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Written by: Miri Samsom
Dance Dance Dance
It had been four days since Mary had beed nearly hit by the car (she still hadn't called Matthew.) The boy upstairs, David, had come to her rescue like a White Knight on his steed. He had taken care of Mary, washed her scrapes and stayed with her for what turned out to be three hours before her friends could take he back home. She had enjoyed being with him for some reason. He was very kind and gentle... not to mention cute! But Mary hadn't seen him since that morning. He had disappeared. David was gone, even though Mary could easly go upstairs and say hello, she didn't want to. She thought it was to forceful for some reason. Just going to someone's door whom you met once didn't seem right. For a day or so, she had wanted to bring something to him as a way of saying "thank you." The best thing would have been a baked good, but Mary didn't know how to cook and she didn't want to appear as the housewife type to anyone!
So, she tried to put David out of her mind and spend more time trying to decide what to do with Matthew. Yet, the more she thought a Matthew, the more she didn't want to. Mary became sad everytime she remembered her first and only boyfriend. She had felt ugly and alone before she met him and that fact that he wanted to date her made Mary feel good; almost pretty. Now that he was gone, she felt ugly again, but Mary wouldn't let her friends know that. No, that was the last thing she wanted. Mary had built up a strong self-confidant image for herself - by hiding her true feelings - and she wasn't about to let any depression knock it down. If fact, the only thing Mary didn't like about herself and people knew about was her hair. She had begun to dye it blonde when she was sixteen and still did.
The mail came at noon. Bridget passed out letters, but kept one advertisement in her hands to read. Mary watched as her friend's eyes lit up.
"Hey, the Country Club's hosting a fund-raiser dance tonight!" she exclaimed.
"How much does it cost to get in?" Christine asked, worried about where her precious funds would go.
"A dollar."
Christine was pleased with the low price, while Katy was wondering what the club was raising funds for. She asked this aloud.
Bridget looked back at te letter and raised and eyebrow, "For homeless families in... Trish-aba-daily-nightly-jan-fram-asia?" She passed the letter to Mary who correct the Bridget's pronunciation.
"That's Trishanog'frimsa. It's a city in Australia."
All the girls said that they wanted to go, except Mary. Why should I go? I don't like going to dances without a boy to dance with? But if I don't then they'll know there's something wrong. So she agreed to go to the dance with her friends.
Christine wanted to fix her hair up a bit. Katy styled it into a French braid, with ribbons twined through hair itself. Then Katy talked Mary into letting her do her hair too. Even though Mary's golden tresses were short, she was able to fashion them into something that resembled an Egyptian: straight and tightly in place.
When it was time to leave, the teens took a short bus ride to the dance hall. It was darkened inside, but the bright colors of the walls could be made out well. The Disc Jockey was playing the Beatles' number "Help!" one of Christine's favorites and she immediately began to dance, although not as well as Bridget could.
Mary felt a bit out of place, as if she didn't deserve to have fun. She had just broken up with her boyfriend. Shouldn't I be crying into my pillow just about now?
Katy noticed her friend was unusually silent and inquired as to why.
Mary didn't acknowledge the fact that she was quiet at all and to prove it, began to dace wildly to Frankie Valley's hit, "Big Girls Don't Cry." She allowed her voice to go all over the place, trying to mimic Mr. Valley's method.
"Hey, you're pretty good, " Katy remarked. Then she to began to sing. The two girls say together and Mary broke off into harmony. Christine and Bridget joined in, each singing a part of the Four Seasons. They mastered it perfectly and that gave Mary an idea.
"Maybe we should start our own band!"
"Maybe," Bridget took the time to add and then went back to singing. It wasn't the answer Mary had hoped for, but she still valued the thought. What would we call ourselves? What kind of music should we sing? Those guys who live above us formed a band, why can't we? For few few moments, Mary forgot her worries about Matthew, but they came back as a group of four boys entered the hall. They were dressed identically with maroon shirts and black pants, but one of them wore a green hat that stood out dramatically. Three were the same height, but the boy on the left was much shorter. Even smaller than Mary, who was lowest in stature among her friends. She couldn't get a good look at their faces or hear what they were saying over the music, but it was easy to hear her friends speak for they were next to her.
"There're the noise-maker's, now. They must have just come from a gig," Bridget remarked.
"What do you mean?" Mary asked, turning back to her friends and begining to wonder who the boys were.
"It's the band that lives above us. What do they call themselves, Katy?"
Katy didn't know, but Mary knew something. The short boy in the group was David Jones from upstairs and she had some questions about music for him.
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Boy am I tired. David yawned. He and his friends, who had formed a band called the Monkees, had just come from a music job. They had thought dancing would be a great way to loosen up, but, frankly, David was to tired to stand. He took a folded chair from its place leaning against the wall, set it up, sat down and closed his eyes. David drifted off and fell into a deep dream. In it, he was with Mary, that girl he had met just a few days ago. They were on a white boat in the middle of the sea. Neither of them spoke, but David had his arm around her. The only sound came from the sea, as it sung to them and rocked them back and forth across the water.
"Dave, are you asleep?" Michael Nesmith's voice cut through the dream.
David fluttered his eyes open and shook his head, "No, I'm awake."
Peter Tork raised his eyebrows and turned to Micky Dolenz, "I didn't know people snored while they were awake."
"Fine, I was asleep, but I'm up now." He suddenly became very thirsty for a soda, "Where's the refreshment table?"
Micky looked around for a second and then pointed to an area a short distance away. David followed the direction of his friend's arm and found a small both where they sold a wide variety of snacks and drinks. He purchased a root beer and then went back to sit with his friends.
"How much was it?" Peter asked.
"Fifty cents," David replied and then took a long drink. Through the neck of the bottle, he could see through the clear, glass bottom. On the other side of the room was a group of four girls, seperate from everybody else. The smallest one, who had had her back to him, suddenly turned around and he got a good look at her face. He choked in mid-sip. Michael hit his coughing friend on the back several times.
"Mary!" David exclaimed.
"Where?" Mickey asked, remembering the story David had told about the girl he'd met.
"Right over there," David motioned... but she was gone. "Where did she go? I have to find her!"
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Memories of Matthew had drifted back to Mary's mind. She didn't want to be at the dance any longer and was about to say so when someone tapped her on the soulder. It was a boy, about her age, but a few inches shorter with dark long-set hair and brown eyes. She recognized him immediately, "David."
"Hi Mary," he appeared shy and bit at his bit. "Do you want to dance?"
Right away Mary answered, "Yes." Although she missed Matthew, David was really nice and she wanted to get to know him better. Mary let him take her hand and David led her to the main dance floor. They embraced, swaying to a slower number. Mary felt so peaceful in his arms, as if she could stay there forever, but this feeling only lasted for a few moments. Her heart began to pound inside her chest; she felt dizzy. So dizzy that Mary stopped dancing. It took David, who was it in ecstasy, a few moments to notice this.
"What?" he asked.
"I guess I just don't feel very well, tonight."
"Oh," he slowly let go of her. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Mary sat down in a chair.
"Would you like me to stay with you?"
Mary shook her head, "No, maybe I should just go home."
David helped her up, "I hope you feel better."
Mary told her friends that she would take the bus home and let herself in with her new key. This she did and was soon trying to sleep on her cot. Mary had lied to David. The dizzy feeling wasn't making her feel sick, it worried her.
Scared her.
When she had first met Matthew, Mary had had the same feeling. It's the type of thing you get when you really care about someone and you really like them. Enough to love them. Mary had loved Matthew, but he hurt her so much. If she felt the same way about David ...if she loved him... there was a chance they could hurt eachother. Mary didn't want to be hurt anymore! I'll just be his friend. Friends don't hurt like lovers do. But, she didn't want to only be his friend if she could be something more. I don't he'd hurt me... but I can't take a chance. I don't know what I'd do if I had more pain. She cried herself to sleep.
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The Pier
Mary looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. It was...okay, nothing stunning. She didn't think she was very pretty, but others didn't know that. To them, Mary thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. There were so many lies she held secret within her.
From the bathroom, she could hear a knock at the door. Footsteps went to it and the door opened. Mary strained her ears to hear any clues as to who it was, but there was nothing. A few moments later, someone knocked at bathroom door. Mary put her brush down and stood close to the door to speak, "Who is it?"
"It's me," Bridget verified. "Do you feel better?"
Mary had told her friends she was sick at the dance the night before. Another lie. "I feel fine."
"Do you want to go to the beach today?"
"Sure!" Mary loved to swim.
"The guys upstairs invited us."
She frowned. That meant David would be there. Mary reminded herself about her "Just Good Friends" policy, but there was another reason she didn't want to go to the beach. Her only bathing suit was a black bikini. She had worn it back home only because she thought it would make her look pretty. Besides that, there weren't very many people on the beach. Now, in the city, not only would there be sworms of people, but four boys that she would be spending that day with. Yet, she had still agreed to go. There was no backing out now.
Mary left the bathroom just as Katy closed the front door.
"I can't find my bathing-suit!" Christine declared.
Mary looked over he sister's shoulder into her suitcase. Within a minute, she had found Christine's suit. It was purple and in one piece. Then she found the two parts of her bathing-suit. Even touching them made her feel dirty. She wanted to run to the store and get a new one, but there was no time. Mary took her bikini back to the bathroom and changed there. Then she tied a white robe tighty around her. I'll just sit on the beach and stay out of the water.
The four girls piled into Bridget's VW Beetle - which was painted over with peace signs - and drove off to the beach. They arrived there at the same as four boys. They where each holding a surf board. Mary got a good look at them for the first time.
The tallest - by an inch - wore a green, wool, hat. He had black hair with very interesting sideburns. The boy shyly introduced himself as Mike with a Texan accent.
The second tallest had blonde hair and a large smile. When he first saw the girls he greeted them with large waves. His hand shake was very strong, "How 'ya do'n? I'm Peter!" He frightened Mary a bit.
"Call me Mick," said the third one as he extended his hand to each girl. Taking some time with Christine, Mary noted. He was average in height with dark curly hair and very friendly.
And then there was David. He took the time to intruduce himself eveyone, leaving Mary until last so he could walk with her to the beach.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah... I'm fine," she replied and made sure her cover-up was still tied.
The eight laied a bright blue blanket a few feet from the shore and an umbrella over it. Christine ran into the water, giggling like a young child. Micky and Peter followed her and laughed, spraying water about. Mike took the time to rub some suntan lotion on his skin, and then ran in after his friends, not bothering to take his hat off. Katy and Bridget exchanged confused glances, raised their eyebrows at him, and then ran into the water. Mary sat down on the blanket with a despondent look on her face.
David crouched down in front of her, "Are you coming in?"
"Um..." Mary stalled, looking for an excuse, "I will... later. Yeah, later."
He waited for a moment and then went into the ocean. Mary stayed on the beach for an half hour, board to tears. I'll just go in for a few minutes? I don't want them to think something is wrong with me. She untied her cover-up and stood. In the water, all the boys caught sight of her and stopped what they were doing. They stared. Micky and David's mouths hung open in astonishment. Mary felt embarassed and a bit dirty. She wanted to burry herself in the sand.
David, who was holding a red beach-ball, dropped it into the water. He started to say something, but Mary cut him off.
She picked to the floting ball and tossed it to Peter, "Think fast!"
Unfortunately, he didn't and the ball bounced off his head. Peter fell into the water. Mike helped him up, while everyone laughed. Peter grabbed the ball and threw it with all his might back at his attacker.
David jumped in front of Mary and caught the beach-ball, "Whoa!"
"I could have handled that, David," Mary reasured him in a bitter tone. She didn't want him to think she was weak.
He turned to her and comemnted to her bathing suit, "I'm sure you could."
Mary snatched the red ball and bonked David on the head with it. He fell and Mary headed back to her place on the beach.
David ran after her, yelling apologies, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that!"
"I'm sure you didn't," she snorted and put her cover-up back on. Mary turned to face him again, her look as cold as ice, "What? Did you think I couldn't have handled that? That I just some kind of weak girl?"
"No," David blushed till he was as red as the beach ball, "I was just...worried that if the ball hit you too hard you might...well, get knocked out of your suit." He look her hand, "Come for a walk with me."
Mary wasn't sure what to do. She new he didn't mean anything by what he said...and really wanted to go for a walk with him. But what if something happened. Just Friends. She nodded and he led her down along the shore. They walked in silence for ten minutes until they came up the pier. David leaned himself against one of the dock's columns and looked out to the sea, only his eyes were closed. He seemed to be in some sort of trance. She sat down on the damp sand under the pier and after another minute David joined her.
"I come here a lot," he said. "Whenever I'm sad or need time to think. I think you could use a place like this?"
"What do you mean?"
"You seem very sad. Are you?"
Mary hung her head, "Does it really show?" She became worried that if David was able to see through her mask., then so was everybody else.
"No, you hide it well, but when you where up stairs a few days ago it showed. You were so quiet when you were with me. Is there something you want to talk about?"
"No." Mary didn't want to talk to anyone about Matthew, especially to another boy.
He mentioned that people feel better after they talk about something.
Mary snapped back, "I don't want to talk about it." Their eyes met. Mary's heart began to beat faster, but she couldn't look away. David moved closer and met her in a kiss. She pushed him off, "No!"
"I-I'm sorry. I really am. I souldn't have done that," he stood to leave. "I'll go."
The pain inside Mary was growing worse by the minute. She took David's hand, brought him back down to sit next to her, and began to cry.
He took her by the shoulders, "What's wrong?"
All Mary could do was sob.
"Please don't cry, Mary," tears started to flood his eyes. "It's making me hurt, too."
She told him everything. Mary let out all her pain and grief about Matthew. David listened to every word and then was quiet for a moment.
"No man is worth crying over...but the one who is won't make you shed a tear."
The words were profound and they touched Mary's broken heart. They began to heal it.
"Someone as beautiful as you should never have to cry."
Mary cried a bit harder, "Please don't say that."
"It's the truth! I wouldn't lie to you."
As much as she wanted to believe him, Mary couldn't, "Don't tell me I'm pretty, 'cause I'm not and you know it! That's why I wore this," she motioned to her bathing suit. "It makes we looked prettier that I really am!"
David looked at her and shook his head, "Sexy doesn't equal beauty, no matter what you say."
"But I'm still not pretty."
He placed his hand on Mary's cheek and used his thumb to wipe away a tear, "You are, but that's not why I like you."
Mary's heart began to pound again. That mean's he has something going for me, too. Oh, I want to tell him how I feel so badly, but I'm too afraid. I don't want to get hurt again. She turned her eyes away from him and towards the sand. A folded up piece of paper fluttered by. Mary reached out and grabbed it. It looked very familiar. She opened it up and found a few paragraphs written in pen; in her hand writing. It was a song she had written a long time ago, back in the country. A duet for a man's and woman's voices. "I haven't seen this in ages! It must have been in my cover-up pocket."
"What is it?"
"A song," she told David and passed the yellowed paper to him.
He read it, muttering the lyrics to himself, "You have some good rhyme here." David handed the paper back and asked a surprising question, "Could you sing it for me?"
Mary blinked a few times, "I'm not very good at it."
"I bet you are," his smile lit his eyes up.
She sang the song quietly, but well. It was titled "A Duo" and told the story of two lovers who drifted apart, but got back together once they realized they were meant for each other.
"That was really good," David smiled and then asked another surprising question. "Would you care to sing it next week on the Forth of July."
Mary raised an eyebrow.
"Me friends and I are in a band, The Monkees, and we have a gig on the beach for the 'Fourth.' I'd like to fit your song in."
She shook her head, "I don't think so. I don't have and music written, just words."
"We could do that. We're pretty good. Please!" he begged like a small child on his knees until Mary agreed. "Good," He looked around. "Hey, we better be getting back."
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