The Song of David

“But in the basement with the pole, with the music pounding as loud as I want, I can put my dance and gymnastics training to good use. And no one has to help me. Nobody has to make sure I don’t fall or hurt myself. When I dance, I can pretend like I’m the real thing, I can pretend I look as good as dancing makes me feel. I even got brave enough to show Robin. She told me I looked amazing. She was so excited for me. So I started creating routines, you know, dreaming a little.

“I even choreographed a routine to “Perfectly Blind” by Day 26. It’s a sexy song and that’s funny, admit it. I figured if I could laugh at myself, then it wouldn’t bother me if other people laughed too. I wanted to dance. I dreamed about it. But I could just imagine the wave of new material available for stand-up comics. I would start a movement. Instead of blonde jokes, or Yo’ Mama jokes, it would be blind stripper jokes.”

“I can think of a few.” I was teasing her, and she giggled.

“Yeah, me too. I have a million of ‘em.”

I didn’t ask her to share, but I was curious. Her laughter faded quickly, and she smoothed her hair self-consciously.

“I make jokes, but I actually care about the way I look. I go to a lot of work to take care of my appearance. Robin’s a beautician and that helps. I’ve been told I’m pretty often enough, and there’s no reflection in the mirror to dispute it. So I choose to believe it. But dancing in front of people? That’s a whole different story.

“A few months ago, Robin told me they were hiring dancers at the club on the corner of Broadway and Rio Grande. She thought I should apply. I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I could laugh at myself with Henry and Robin, and I could dance around a pole in my basement, but could I actually dance anywhere else? Could I actually get paid to dance?”

“Tag apparently thought so,” I interrupted.

Millie nodded but continued her narrative.

“Robin told me she would help me. And she would have. She would have had me looking like a million bucks. But in the end, I walked into the audition looking like a bag lady. A blind bag lady. Or at least what I imagined a bag lady looked like. I walked in off the street, prepared to be turned away, my clothes unflattering, my hair a mess. I did it on purpose. I wanted to give them every reason to turn me down. I wanted to provide them with an easy way out. But they didn’t turn me down.” Millie paused. “I guess now we know why.”

I had no idea why Tag included that part of his story on the tapes. I’d watched Millie when Tag had recounted the scene with Morgan, and her face had fallen like a house of cards. I’d wanted to throw the tape recorder out the window and hunt my best friend down, so I could slap some sense into him.

But then, as Tag had continued talking, Millie’s expression grew thoughtful and her stiff posture relaxed, and I realized suddenly why Tag was sharing the uncomfortable story. Tag confessed the details of Millie’s hiring because he didn’t want her hearing it from someone else and thinking that he was in on the joke. Tag clearly wanted Millie to know that the first time he’d seen her dancing, he’d had no idea she was blind. He’d thought she was beautiful.

“You heard what he said, Millie. He didn’t know. You convinced him you were the real deal. He thought you were even better than the other dancers.” My gut twisted again. If Tag were coming back, he wouldn’t have felt the need to make that clear or insulate Millie from gossip.

“I know,” she whispered and then stood. “I need to take a break, Moses. I need to go home and make sure Henry’s okay.”

I offered to give her a lift, but she refused, claiming she needed to stretch her legs. She had to dance at the club in a few hours too, and I was glad to hear it, even if she was only going through the motions. Going through the motions means you aren’t sitting still. Sitting still is what kills you. And so far, everyone was keeping up appearances for Tag, everyone was showing up for work, doing their jobs at his gym, his bar, and his store on the corner. Tag may have abandoned his world, but if we all went through the motions, maybe we could keep it turning for him until he came back. I didn’t let myself think any further than that.





MORGAN DIDN’T COME back to work. I made sure I was at the bar at two the following afternoon, ready to meet him or fill in for him, whichever it was going to be. When five thirty rolled around with still no sign of my manager, I cursed and started flipping through options in my head. I had a big fight to get ready for, and I didn’t want to be working late shifts at the bar every night. That’s why I’d hired Morg. I wanted to come in, make my rounds, slap some skin, and work the back room. I didn’t want to be working forty hours a week behind the bar managing the place. I already had too much on my plate. But I’d embarrassed Morgan. Hurt his pride. Still, I was surprised he hadn’t shown.