Ruby Hobbs came out of her room, dancing and singing, buck naked, again. “All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air,” she warbled, her old body jigglin’ and wigglin’.

Ruby being naked may sound funny, but it’s a sight so disturbing even Teddy C can’t take it, and that’s saying something. Teddy C ogles all the oldies. Fat ones, bony ones, doesn’t seem to matter to him. He’s ninety, but his eye is always roving. He does the whistle, too. Or at least he tries. It’s more air than sound, but there’s no mistaking what he’s thinking.

At first I thought the whistle was a joke, but Ma says it’s for real and that his old-guy eyes see what they used to know, not what’s actually there.

Except, I guess, in the case of Ruby Hobbs. “Somebody help!” Teddy C called, like he was being robbed. “She’s at it again!”

“Now, now, dear,” Gloria said, snatching a sheet from one of the monster-eye dryers and rushing over to wrap Ruby in it. “You can’t dance at the ball without a gown on. What would the governor think?”

Gloria sure does have a way with the oldies. Maybe it’s how she can jump inside whatever fantasy or memory they’re in the middle of. Or maybe it’s the fake flower she wears in her hair. It’s the exact same one every day, but every day it seems brand-new to the folks living at Brookside. “Oh, what a beautiful bloom!” someone’ll say, like it’s the first time they’ve seen it. “As pretty as you,” Gloria’ll reply, which makes them blush. Like it’s the first time they’ve been paid the compliment.

It could also be the way Gloria’s voice always seems to calm things down. Her now, nows and there, theres work like she’s castin’ a spell.

Whatever it is about Gloria, her magic doesn’t only work on the oldies. It works on me, too. Ma tells me, “Focus,” but all I can think about is how dumb it is that I have to spend my afterschools here, in an old-folks’ home.

Gloria, though, will give me a little smile and whisper, “Now, now, Lincoln. Remember, the more schoolwork you get done here, the less you’ll have to do when you get home,” and just like that, I buckle down.

But back to Ruby.

I’d been coming to Brookside every school day since September, and even though we were in the middle of November, it was still a surprise to see Ruby bust out her dance moves. Aside from her being naked, which I guess anyone can figure out how to get, the big shock is always seeing her move.

Normally she shuffles. Shuff, shuff, shuff, her slippers go. Shuff, shuff, shuff, slow and tired. All the oldies shuffle. Usually with walkers, or while hanging on the arm of one of the nurses. Or, I guess, “caregivers.” The word seems so stiff, but Ma says I need to use it, seeing how caregivers are not actually nurses. At Brookside, nurses are the ones in white shirts, and caregivers are the ones in purple shirts. Nurses do the pills and the blood pressure and call the ambulance. Caregivers do the meals and the clothes and all the nasties. Like mopping up accidents. And changing diapers. And dressing corpses.

But back to shufflin’.

It’s what all the oldies do. Going to the Clubhouse at mealtimes, to the Activities Room for entertainment hour, to the patio for a little afternoon sun…they shuffle and they look straight down at the floor. It’s easy to get lulled into how slow everything goes. Which is why Ruby coming out of her room naked with her arms out and twirling is always such a shock.

This time, though, it was different.

This time, the flower and the sunny sounds from Gloria didn’t help. Ruby cried when Gloria wrapped her up, and she whimpered, “Let me dance. Please. Let me dance.”

This time, seeing Ruby Hobbs was more than just surprising or disturbing or funny. It was sad. And sad on top of everything else that had happened was an unexpected blow. One that knocked the wind right out of me.