Slow Dance in Purgatory

Johnny grabbed Maggie’s hand, and they walked quickly through the double doors, leaving the chaos of the lunchroom behind them. He pulled her down a flight of stairs and through a large corridor before coming to a stop outside the one place he thought they might spend the afternoon undisturbed. No one paid Maggie any attention as she slipped into the dark auditorium and pulled the door shut behind her. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark, feeling Johnny beside her, relishing the heat and energy rising from him. The stage loomed before them, unlit and empty, the curtains pulled wide to reveal glossy floors and darkened overhead lights.

The room echoed soundlessly with the highly charged emotions of a thousand performances. How many prayers had been offered here, pleas for courage and sparkling performances, heartfelt wishes for audience adoration and flawless deliveries? Maggie thought for a moment that she could see ghostly apparitions flitting across the stage. There was so much trapped energy and emotion in this room. It felt almost like a place of worship, a synagogue or a cathedral, where the dreams of so many played out in living color, year after year.

“Come with me,” Johnny whispered, as if unwilling to disturb the church-like silence of the waiting theatre. He wrapped his arms around her and gathered energy around him like a rocket’s boosters preparing for launch. But this time, the lift-off was a silent, weightless, rising. There was no explosive vortex of light and motion. This time, it was more like a suspension of gravity. They floated slowly upwards, gliding above the rows of deep set chairs and carpeted aisles. The ceiling was domed with a second row of balcony seats positioned on each side of a large sound box that boasted a spectacular view of the stage beyond.

Maggie watched as her feet rose farther and farther above solid ground. She felt like Lois Lane in the arms of Superman. She looked up in wonder as the ceiling loomed closer. The darkness was an undisturbed frontier, enveloping them in silky solitude. Suddenly, tiny white lights flickered on, puncturing the blackness with starlight.

“It’s like floating in space!” Maggie sighed, pleasure washing over her.

“There aren’t many things I can show you or places I can take you, but I can show you how it feels to fly.”

“Being with you always feels like flying,” Maggie whispered.

“And being with you brings me back to Earth.”

“Somehow, I think I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Maggie murmured, her face glowing dimly in the white light.

“If only that were true, I wouldn’t hate myself every time I give in to my need to be with you.”

Maggie placed a hand over his warm mouth. “There will be no talk of regrets today. There will be no remorse or second thoughts; today we belong to no one or nothing but each other. Tomorrow will come soon enough and it will take care of itself.”

Silently they floated until Johnny, with no apparent effort, sent them soaring lightly through the curtained opening of the stage and into a high loft where a myriad of old costumes and props were stored. Maggie felt solid ground under her feet, and the pull of gravity reengaged. Life’s weight reasserted itself, and Maggie wasn’t ready to return just yet.

“I don’t want to stop,” Maggie sighed mournfully. Johnny laughed silently, touching his forehead to hers and sliding his hands down to the small of her back.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait any longer,” he breathed.

Maggie was confused by his statement, wondering if he could only maintain weightlessness for so long.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” Johnny repeated. “I wanted to kiss you so bad, but I didn’t want to lose control and send us plummeting to the ground.”

Maggie’s heart fluttered out of her chest and flitted away on butterfly wings. Her eyes slipped closed as he tiptoed his fingers up her spine and lightly traced the long line from her shoulders to her hands. He released her hands and circled her waist, his long hands spanning from her ribs to her hips. Pulling her close, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and was overcome by the desire to dissolve into her. Maggie stroked his hair, her wish to continue flying long forgotten. Johnny raised his head, needing his mouth on hers, trailing his lips across her silky cheek. She met him halfway and brushed her lips softly across his, tasting his warm honey flavor and savoring her name on his lips as he crushed his mouth to hers. They were desperate to be closer, to lose themselves entirely, and never be apart again.

The afternoon passed languidly – as if time had ceased and an alternate world had opened up where they were the only inhabitants. Maggie drug out a box of ancient costumes: top hats, coattails, and dresses with flowing skirts and puffy sleeves. There was a long oval mirror propped in the corner, and Maggie had the inspiration to dress Johnny up and see what he looked like in the mirror. Surely his costume wouldn’t disappear, too. Sure enough, the slacks and suit jacket draped him as if a flesh and blood man wore them. The top hat floated above a missing head, and his cane twirled from an empty sleeve. Johnny didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before. He could really scare the student body of Honeyville High now.