Slow Dance in Purgatory

The rest of the afternoon passed in relative normalcy, with Maggie and Johnny trading questions and answers, tidbits and tit for tat. The conversation was all lightness and ease, but an undercurrent of tension buzzed between them, and both avoided close proximity for a couple of hours.

They covered everything from favorite colors to favorite films, to least favorite foods and most embarrassing moments. Johnny seemed fascinated by the smallest details, and Maggie wondered if it was truly her he was fascinated by, or simply the intimacy of human contact so long denied him. Regardless, she relished his rapt attention and returned it tenfold. The late afternoon sun was beginning to descend when Johnny pronounced Belle, ‘good as new.” He asked Maggie to start her up, and when she offered to let him do the honors, he shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’ll throw a spark.”

Maggie didn’t question him. She knew he threw sparks. She climbed in and turned the key, pumping the pedal as she did. Belle roared to life and sat purring like a well-loved housecat. Maggie threw Johnny a delighted grin and, jumping out of the car, did a little happy dance around the shop room. Johnny tried not to notice how good she looked doing it. Girls in his day wore skirts most of the time. He hadn’t known what he was missing. He suspected, though, that most girls, both then and now, didn’t look like Maggie in a pair of blue jeans. He wisely turned away and began returning the borrowed tools to their proper shelves and trays.

“So….you used to go to drive-in movies, right?” Maggie said from behind him, easing up next to him, but still keeping a wide berth.

“Yeah. We called ‘em passion pits.” Johnny groaned inwardly at the awkward silence that ensued.

Maggie attempted a laugh and cleared her throat instead. “Well, I’ve never been to one. So I was thinking…maybe we could make our own. I’ll be able to drive the car back tonight, right? So I don’t have to leave any time soon. The library has a big projector, we can use the back wall as our screen, and I have the perfect movie. We can watch it sitting in the Caddy. It’ll be fun. Whaddayasay?”

Johnny couldn’t think of a sweeter agony than sitting next to Maggie for a couple of hours in the front seat of Irene Honeycutt’s car. He knew he was a fool. And worse, he knew none of this was good for Maggie. But so much had been taken from him, and he’d been stranded in Purgatory for so long. He couldn’t deny himself tonight. He wanted it too badly: the conversation, the laughter, the girl. Whatever she gave him -- time, attention, affection -- he would take it. He would worry about the consequences later. Later was something he had plenty of.

***

Shadrach Jasper was bored. He kicked at the rocks, sending one flipping up and nailing himself in the head.

“Ow!” He yelped loudly, and cursed the big feet that made him awkward and ungainly. One of these days he would grow into his feet, just like his grandpa promised. Then maybe Maggie would like him the way he liked her. Of course, by then she would have graduated, and she would probably be off to some big dance school, or dancing in New York on Broadway or some such B.S.

Shadrach knew he was in a bad mood, but he had had the worst week ever, and he really wanted to spend the day with Maggie. He was crazy about Maggie. Sure, she was three years older than him, but someday that wouldn’t matter.

Maggie was beautiful and kind and funny, and she didn’t make him feel like a loser. And she was nothing like his mom. She wouldn’t drink and get mean, or run off with some guy for months on end, or sell herself for drugs or the money to buy them. And Maggie didn’t embarrass him like his mom did.

He couldn’t believe that the first time the guys on the football team had paid him any attention it was because of her. He had been trying to impress those guys since the school year started. Now they were all laughing at him. He hadn’t made the football team…but he would when he grew, and then those guys would beg to hang out with him, he was sure of it. He knew lots of stories about guys who didn’t make their school football team until their sophomore or junior year, and then went on to play in the pros. His time would come. And if football didn’t work out, there was always basketball.

Shad nodded his head and clapped his hands, feeling much better after his little personal pep talk. Maybe he should get his bike and ride over to the school, maybe practice a little bit, sharpen his skills. The doors would be unlocked if there was dance practice going on. Then he could work on his basketball and ride home with Maggie. Maybe they wouldn’t have to wait until Sunday night to hang out.

His mind made up, Shad began loping down the street as fast as he could go, tripping only once and congratulating himself on his improving speed.





11


“KISS OF FIRE”

Georgia Gibbs - 1952