I stood on the road, and Isaac stood on his driveway. At my feet were the tally marks. There were 47 marks for 47 days.
“Looking pretty sharp, Quinny.”
“Thank you.”
I was in the red satin dress I had picked out ages ago. I had on low heels and a bit of makeup, and my mother had helped me with my hair.
“No comment about how good I look?” Isaac asked.
Isaac was in a shirt, tie and a jacket that was way too big. To complete his outfit, he wore bright red skateboarding shoes and matching red, baggy shorts. He had joked that this was “semi-formal done by Isaac.”
“You look very handsome,” I replied.
“I was going for stunning.”
“Do you think anyone is even going to come?” I asked.
“What do you mean? There’s already two of us. And Reese and Jenna will be here for sure.”
“Well, because the school didn’t agree to it, I’m not sure Jenna’s parents are going to let her come.”
“Okay, then three of us at least. Which means you can only expect every second dance with me. Don’t be jealous.” He paused. “I’m just kidding, Quinny. Don’t worry. This is going to work.”
I caught sight of flashing lights. Two police cars had pulled in so that together they blocked off the street at one end. I turned around in time to see more flashing lights. It was a third police car and an ambulance. They formed a barricade at the other end of the block.
“Why an ambulance?” I asked.
“Just the thing they do at parades and soccer games—you know, big public gatherings.”
“So far not so big.”
“There’ll be more people,” Isaac said. “Who would want to miss seeing all this?”
“It is pretty amazing.”
Up and down the whole length of the block were boxes drawn on the street with chalk. Each box was ten feet by ten feet and was separated from the next one by six feet. There were two rows, with a six-foot strip between them. Each box was numbered, from 1 to 100. One hundred boxes for 100 guests, drawn so each person would remain at a safe distance from everybody else. It had taken us almost a full day to measure and mark them all off.
Isaac’s mother came out of their house. She was in full uniform and carrying a police bullhorn.
“It’s good to see my officers have arrived,” she said. “You two look very nice.”
“I think we’ve agreed that we’re both stunning.”
“Thank you for getting us permission to do this, Ms. Peters. And for agreeing to be one of the chaperones,” I said.
“I think you kids need this. Maybe all of us do. Oh, look. Your first guests are arriving.”
At the end of the street a couple of cars had pulled up. A kid got out of each. As the parents drove away, the kids were both let onto the street by the officers.
From this distance I couldn’t tell who they were. The guy was in a suit, and the girl was in a formal, fancy, sparkly party dress—it was Jenna! The mask she was wearing had big red lips painted on it. Noah’s mask had a big, burly mustache.
“Your parents let you come!” I exclaimed to Jenna as Isaac greeted Noah.
People had started to come out of their houses. They were setting up lawn chairs and sitting down on the edge of their properties. Every family on the street knew what we were doing. We had invited them to come out and listen and watch and cheer—their presence would just add to the atmosphere.
Cars kept pulling up at both ends of the street to drop off kids, and more and more of our classmates appeared. Some came by themselves, on bikes or on foot. As each person arrived, they went to their assigned spot. We had sent everybody an email telling them what they needed to know. They each knew their number and that they had to go to that square and stay apart from others. We had also made it clear that there would be no second chance for anybody who didn’t respect physical distancing. Isaac’s mom had insisted on that. Violating the rule meant being sent home. Each person had brought a backpack containing their supplies for the night—snacks, a water bottle or two, a set of earbuds and a phone.
A little cheer went up, and I turned to see Miss Fernandez arriving. She waved to people as she walked down the center strip and to her assigned square. Like everyone else, she was wearing a homemade mask. And her dress was fancy! She looked like she was ready to party, but she was also one of our chaperones, along with Isaac’s mom and both of Reese’s parents. It was good to have the police chief and teachers around to keep everybody in line. More and more people kept arriving.
“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Isaac said. “Almost everybody is here.”
“Which means it’s time to stop watching and start taking charge,” Isaac’s mother said. She tried to hand the bullhorn to Isaac.
“Quinn’s in charge. Give it to her.”
“It’s been sanitized,” she said as she put it on the ground.
I picked it up with my gloved hand.
“Just push the button and speak.”
I brought it up to my lips. “Good evening, everybody!” My words echoed off the houses. I was surprised by how loud my voice was. “Welcome to the Chambers Avenue party! We’re so glad you’re all here. Thank you for finding your square. We’re going to wait a few more minutes for any stragglers to arrive, and then we’ll get started.”
A gigantic cheer went up.
The first lights came on at the house three doors down. Red and green Christmas lights. Then the house beside it lit up, and then a third and fourth house partway down the block. We’d asked people who lived on the street if they could do that. Many neighbors had. It all looked so beautiful!
I turned to Isaac. “You promised me you’re going to play good songs, remember?”
“Quinny, I’ve made the perfect pandemic playlist. Time to get this party started.”
Isaac went to the sound system he’d set up on his driveway. There were wires connected to six speakers spaced along the block. The whole thing had been rented, sanitized and delivered in a police van.
As well, five digital projectors had been set up in sequence along the block. The screens were either a garage door or a sheet strung between step ladders. This was going to be an audio and a visual dance.
People had come out of almost every house now, some sitting in lawn chairs, some standing. My mother and father stood at the end of our driveway—six feet apart. I’d drawn two separate squares there just for them. They both gave me a big thumbs-up. On the street, filling every square, were our classmates. Each person wore earbuds, one bud in their ear, the other hanging loose so they could talk to the person in the square facing them. That person was their partner for the first dance. We were ready to go. I gave Isaac the signal.
“Good evening, everyone. Are you ready to party?” Isaac called out clearly through the speakers. In answer, a cheer went up along the street. “Nobody can party like a Panther can party!” There was an even bigger cheer. “I give you our first song of the night!”
The music started playing. I recognized it immediately. It was one my parents liked, an oldie but perfect for the occasion—“Don’t Stand So Close to Me,” by the Police.
Another cheer went up. It was even louder from the people watching. Kids started dancing. The adults on their driveways started dancing. Their little kids did too. Somehow we’d done it!