of a fantastically bejewelled chest in the corner. She rummaged through piles of silk and satin and muttered to herself, “I can never find anything in here.” After a few minutes, she drew out a small black tuxedo on a hanger, complete with red bow tie and cummerbund. “There, you see? Now, put this on before anyone arrives.”
As Miss Val was tying his bow tie into a fat knot, the double doors at the end of the room opened and a line of finely dressed men and women entered, their arms linked in couples, the women’s skirts brushing the floor. Miss Val placed a hand on Danny’s head and whispered, “Be yourself, sweetie, and everybody will love you.”
While Miss Val chatted with the people in the crowd, Danny stayed as close to her as he dared, his nose on level with her gloved elbow. He stared at her green strapless dress, at the ruching on its sides and the slit up the thigh. How wonderful.
The music started and couples floated out into the middle of the room, the women with their necks held gracefully, like porcelain figures, the men smiling, close-lipped, over their partners’ shoulders. It was all so flawless, without dust or pickles or the smell of bubble gum. Danny heard Miss Val laugh and he looked up at her clear, white face.
Gently, he tugged on her hand.
“Yes, honey?”
Danny bowed his head and, in as low a voice as he could manage, said, “Would you care to dance?”
Miss Val smiled and took his hand in hers. “Why, of course.”
They spun out onto the dance floor, his left arm clutching the fabric around her waist, his right holding her hand. He peered down at his own feet, careful not to step on her toes. Gently, she said to him, “Look up. Only a fellow with something to hide doesn’t look into the eyes of his partner.”
And so they danced, slipping through gaps in the crowd, skimming over the floor as if they weighed no more than feathers. He could see their bodies in the mirrors, the whirl of movement that meant they were fast and smooth, like the wind Danny felt when he stood at the top of the hill in the school playground. When the music stopped, Miss Val embraced him and his face was crushed against the smooth satin of her dress. He put his arms around her and closed his eyes, wondering if he could somehow make this moment last and last, preserve it with perfume or shellac it with hairspray. He sighed, because he knew that this was impossible and he would have to return to his real life.
He said, “There’s something I want to tell you.” There was nothing she couldn’t understand. She would know how it was to feel like a Martian. She would help him figure out why he always stood apart from the other boys as they played in the schoolyard. She would never look at him with disappointment or confusion. Or sound like she was sorry whenever she spoke. Or plod down the street in tan walking shoes when all Danny ever wanted was to see her in a pair of high heels.
Val knelt in front of him and touched his cheek with her cool hand. “I have a secret too.”
And he leaned forward, his ear practically touching her red lips. She breathed in and he shivered, knowing the words were coming very soon. She would know everything about him and he would know everything about her.
Danny woke with a start, rubbed his eyes in the grey light of early morning. He stood and pressed his nose to the window. Even though his small room looked out at the house beside theirs (a newer, taller house, covered not in wooden siding, but in a fine layer of beige gravel with bits of granite that winked in the sunlight and grew shiny in the rain), Danny could see the reflection of the sky in the neighbour’s window. Usually, in this small square of glass, he tracked the speed of the clouds, the magical break in the mist when the sun shone for one second, long enough to illuminate everything and remind him that it couldn’t possibly rain all the time. But now he squinted at the barely blue sky and listened, hearing nothing but the two-note song of the bird that lived in the scrawny birch tree across the street. He must have slept through the night, but it was just as