We decided in our last Dumb Luck Club meeting, at KC’s insistence, to store our split kits in the clubhouse. Doom rigged up some clever little plastic doohickey that should keep out any potential looters. He showed us where to press it and at what angle so we can unclip it. It’s a bit like the device people would put on the cleaning cabinet to keep babies out, but if you don’t know how to use it, you’re not getting in. We’ve also set up shifts to check the clubhouse. We’ve used the excuse of creating a skit to perform at the dance as a reason for us to be hanging around the stage so much; which makes me think that maybe we should actually come up with one.
KC and Killer spend most of their time inside the clubhouse. People are still uncomfortable around her and are glad she’s not around. It’s like they thought Ghost was crazy and then KC went crazy so maybe their craziness is catching.
Unfortunately we can’t be anywhere near the clubhouse at the moment, because we’re all required to be at the much-hyped (due to Nadia’s nattering) Last Dance. Or as it says on the banners draped over the doorways, “May I Have This Last Dance?”
I love dances no matter how lame the theme is. I love getting out there and getting lost in the music and breaking out my moves. If there’s one thing I can do it’s dance, and this makes any disco my territory. Not that I need much skill here. From the looks of things I’m the one-eyed king in the Land of the Blind.
But I have to put my moves on hold for the moment because the first dance, at Nemesis’s insistence, is a slow dance. Since Ghost died she’s gone from being KC’s nemesis to being her BFF. Come to think of it, it wasn’t when Ghost died; they’ve been close ever since the last dance. Maybe KC became friendly when she realized Ghost was into her and not Nemesis. Now she spends most of her time with KC. They’re practically sisters. This thought doesn’t keep me from pulling her onto the dance floor.
“Hey, you!” she says playfully, but she willingly follows anyway. I twirl her around, dip her down low to the floor, and pull her up into a swaying embrace so I can start talking to her. I’m feeling a bit daring tonight as I hold her tight and whisper in her ear, “Okay, why the slow dance? Why this song? Who’s the guy?”
She sheepishly smiles and says, “It’s not for me, it’s for KC, and the guy is…was…Ghost. This is the song he requested so he could ask her to dance.”
I look over at KC sitting in the bleachers and I can see from her expression that she knows this is her song. She doesn’t bother to hide her tears, yet at the same time there’s a half-smile on her face. Her eyes have taken on that far-away look that shows she’s lost in the land of what-could-have been. This song’s both hurting her and helping her. She’s learning the depth of Ghost’s true feelings through the music, making it both touching and tragic. I stop to have a listen, even though I feel like I’m intruding on their relationship. It’s like I’m eavesdropping on a whispered conversation or reading a found love note.
I don’t know when I started to love you so
I’ll enjoy sifting through the memories
Till I find that moment when
I needed you with me.
You lift me up.
The sound of your voice
Cuts through the confusion...
I look back at Nemesis but she’s not really here. She’s as lost in the music as KC is. We shuffle and sway in silence, neither of us paying attention to what’s going on around us. It’s hard to focus as it is. Our surroundings have suddenly taken on a dreamy quality. I feel unbelievably sleepy. Did I eat too much from the buffet? It was hard to resist, I haven’t seen that much food in a while and I justified eating more by thinking we should carb-up before our big move. But still, I’m surprised I can feel this sleepy while dancing…
I have been wound in the bounds of love
And I don’t mind if remain in chains
“Can we sit down?” Nemesis asks, her voice heavy and slow. Her words are slurred like she’s drunk, but I know that’s impossible. There’s no booze here. Maybe she’s talking normally; it’s just my clouded mind that’s warping her voice. “I don’t feel very well.”
“Glad you asked. I’m feeling tired myself.” We drag ourselves over to the bleachers where other sleepy-looking partygoers sit. Wait. They’re not sitting. They’re lying down! Their bodies are draped all over the place. Something about this feels very wrong, but I’m too tired to sort it out in my head. Nemesis and I plop down heavily on a bench and lean on each other for support. My eyes start to close but I force them open. Where’s Jesse? Oh, there she is, she’s lying in KC’s lap while KC strokes her hair. Something is definitely wrong here…my eyes are closing again.
I wrench them open one more time to see if I can find my mother. All I can see are prone bodies before I lose the battle and join them in an enforced deep sleep.