Shuffle, slide. Swing beat. My hand’s on the ruffled red waist of her dress. Rock step. Brown and white wingtips scuff the floor. Slacks twist and billow, and our eyes spark electric.
Time stops.
The room is expansive, and it echoes of town hall meetings and speeches. Rows of people line the east and west walls: seated, drinking, toe-tapping, and drinking. A few well-dressed older women fan themselves with pamphlets.
The high-hat is still ringing as the dancers hang in space just inches above the dance floor. There’s no other sound or movement. The girl in red—I’ve never seen her before—has her head tilted toward me, looking up with a wry smile. Her left elbow is bent slightly, her hand reaching out to rest in mine, waiting for guidance. Her dress has risen, just a little bit higher than audience comfort, up her thighs. The whole room is inhaling.
The frozen split second ends as the band leader pushes sharply back from the mic and rips the pick across his guitar strings. The drummer smashes both cymbals at the same time.
Every foot hits the dance floor and in an instant takes off. Rock step, left. Shuffle, turn. Shuffle, turn. Rock step. I’m bolder now with her smile, and I pull her closer in the turns and twirls. I hold her left hand low and swing her right hand around her head, so her back presses into my chest, heat and freedom. My neck prickles with the piercing trumpet, and I send my partner circling away again to watch her back, her thighs, her smile.
I know this song, ‘Let’s Dance.’ I used to replay it on my stereo to hear Goodman’s bare-bones solo of quarter notes peaking in-between the beat before he brings the other horns back with a big crescendo. The band here knows that version too, and I’m feeling the build-up. Everything’s blurry, and our fast pace sends a breeze across my sweaty face, grinning. I send the girl in red twirling backward, stop her in place, then spin toward her.
The drummer’s arms are flailing with the finale now, horns are blaring, and the lights shake. I place her right hand high on my shoulder and drop her toward the dance floor; her eyes show no fear or surprise. She exhales and slowly rises as I lift her, smile, and tell her thanks for that great dance.
