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Feeling like she might be sick, Sandra stepped into the studio for her turn. She tried to be invisible as she tiptoed to the corner of the room.
She watched the women as they came into the large room. They all wore shiny black tap shoes, so it was easy to be quiet and feel invisible in all that clickety chaos. The supermodel who looked like a Barbie doll had already been in the room when she’d entered. She was talking to Joyelle in the front of the room. Whatever they were talking about, they were very hush-hush, and Sandra strained to eavesdrop without looking at them.
The very pregnant woman entered soon after Sandra did. She wobbled to the center of the room and then sat down to stretch out. Sandra was amazed at how flexible she was, given her condition. Next came the Bluetooth woman. She’d changed out of her pantsuit, but she was still chattering away on her earpiece. She also sat down on the floor and started stretching.
Oh, was that what they were supposed to be doing? Sandra grabbed hold of the bar on the wall beside her and pulled her heel to her butt. Her knee screamed in protest. This stretch would be easier on her aging joints if she lay down to do it, but she didn’t want to do that because she was still considering making a run for it. Next through the door came a petite woman with mouse-brown hair. She looked at the floor as she walked, and even though she wore tap shoes like everyone else, they barely made a sound.
Next came the motorcycle woman, who made a beeline for Sandra. Sandra stiffened as she approached. She extended her hand. “Name is Jess!” Her high-pitched, cheerful voice did not match her copious black eyeliner. “Welcome!”
Sandra accepted the handshake and instantly felt more relaxed. “Thank you. My name is Sandra.”
Jess pivoted away from her so she had room to stretch. “I know! Joyelle is very excited you’ve decided to join us. I saw your little cutie in the last class. Joyelle just loves her to pieces.”
Already? That was a good sign. “I do too.”
Joyelle got everyone’s attention and welcomed them warmly. “We’re going to start with some basic techniques. They might feel a little tricky if they are new to you, but don’t worry. Soon they’ll be second nature.” She turned and faced the mirror, and the women spread out evenly into lines.
Joyelle started moving her feet. “This is called a scuffle. It’s heel, toe, step ... heel, toe, step. Just do what I do. Follow my feet.”
Sandra started following her and, shockingly, was able to do what Joyelle was telling her to do. It wasn’t graceful, but she was doing it! Something inside her leapt a little. This was almost fun!
“Great job, everyone! Now we’re going to add to it!” She sounded so excited. “This is called a paradiddle! Start with your scuffle, but instead of stepping, you’re going to dig it, and then put your heel down.” Sandra didn’t know what this meant, but Joyelle demonstrated slowly, and Sandra tried to imitate her. She was really grateful that she wasn’t wearing tap shoes because her feet were not doing what everyone else’s feet were doing. Everyone else was in perfect unison, making a lovely “boom, slap, tap, boom ... boom, slap, tap, boom ...” It was beautiful and fun, and on the fifth or sixth try, Sandra finally managed to get it. “Great job!” Joyelle said again. Boy, she was some enthusiastic. Yet, she seemed completely sincere. “Who wants to try it a little bit faster?”
Oh no.
“Here we go!”
“Hello?” someone croaked from the doorway.
Joyelle stopped and turned to face the newcomer, as did most of the women in the room.
The stout woman in the doorway leaned on a walker. She wore a bright green romper that matched the tennis balls on the bottom of her walker and somehow complemented her orange hair. She only wore one sock. It was black, pulled up to her knee, and sported a collection of white hairs that made Sandra felt better about her pants.
“Can I help you?” Joyelle asked sweetly.
“I’m Gertrude!”
