 |
Rick Archer's Note:
Following my
poolside revelations at Darya's country club, I made a
sacred vow that I would never touch Victoria again. I felt
so much better about my situation with Victoria. All
temptation was gone. I know it sounds weird, but I
could sense it. For the first time in ages I felt invulnerable
to
Victoria's ample charms.
I was frankly
amazed at the steel that had entered my psyche. My
sudden resolve was so absolute it felt like I had received a
divine blessing. Who am I to say what really happened?
Perhaps it was a case of self-hypnosis. Maybe so, but
nothing I had done in the past had cast out this Temptation
Demon. The coincidence of the prayer and the impact of
my subsequent relief struck me as too important and too
eerie to overlook.
I did not worry
about my Oedipal Premonition. I felt so strong, that
small fear was easily dismissed as idle conjecture. I
brushed it off as me being superstitious.
|
|
THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY |
| |
|
078 |
Suspicious |
Eerie Premonition |
1979 |
| |
Following
the poolside memory of the immense damage caused by his father's affair, Rick
prays to God to help him avoid a similar Fate. The temptation is removed,
but a Premonition of an affair with Victoria is not. |
|
| |
|
AUGUST 1979
ROUGH
DIAMOND
|
|
The size of
my classes had dwindled in August.
Fortunately, even at
half the size of my July classes, my program was
hanging in there. It was now six
months since Cowboy had
debuted around the corner from the
Pistachio Club. In that time I
estimate two dozen Discos had folded
only to be replaced by Kicker joints.
In all that time I still had yet
to receive a single request for Country
dance lessons. It made no sense.
What the heck was going on?
One of my favorite
students was Charles. He was
my age, short and very
husky. I did not know Charles very
well. However I could tell he was outgoing. Charles was one of
those rare genuinely warm human beings
that people like immediately. Charles had a
favorite Disco song, 'Rough Diamond'
by Madleen Kane. Every time he
came to class, he would beg me to play the
song. I played it so often that
this
became our class theme song.
There might be 5 minutes left in the
class and someone (usually Charles)
would point out I had not played 'Rough
Diamond' yet.
I would roll my
eyes and stop what I was doing to make
Charles happy.
The class loved the guy, so why not
indulge him? To great laughter
I would trudge over to the turntable and
play the song. Meanwhile the girls
would line up to dance with Charles
since he was so darn cute. I
wondered why he liked this song so much
because it was very fast. That is
when I noticed he was nowhere near the
beat. Charles preferred to move at
his own relaxed tempo. One day after
the song
ended, I called Charles my 'Diamond in
the Rough' and the girls laughed.
They loved to tease him about it.
Charles blushed, but he liked the
attention.
|
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One night Charles
came up to me after class with a long face.
"I hate to tell you this, Rick, but
tonight is my last class."
"Oh no, that's
terrible. Why is that?"
"I work for the
Houston Police Department. They just changed my hours
to night shift. My new beat conflicts with taking your
evening dance classes. I hate to stop now. I
am having a great time and I
want to learn to dance in the worst way."
Charles grew
silent for a moment. "Hey, Rick, do you have daytime dance
classes?"
"Well, not
exactly, but what
about a private lesson? I don't
work during the day. I could meet you here at the
studio before your night shift begins and work with you that
way. What do you think?"
"Hey, I like
that idea! That's great. I'll ask Becky to
join me. Can we start this
coming Monday around 3 pm?"
Becky was a girl
Charles had met in class. I assumed they were dating.
The thought of working with these two was very appealing, so
I said, "Sure, I will
see you then."
Oddly enough,
although I had been teaching for a year and a half, this was
the very first weekday private lesson I had ever booked.
My students were professionals who had their days filled
with a heavy workload. Consequently there was absolutely no demand
for daytime classes. Today I was in for a surprise. When Charles
showed up the following Monday, he was alone.
"Where's Becky?"
I asked.
"Oh, darn
it, Becky couldn't get off work. I'm sorry, it's
just me. Is that okay? You know the girl's
part, right?"
Uh no, I did not
know the girl's part. I was
immediately filled with panic. I did not want Charles
to leave, so I replied, "Uh, sure,
Charles, no
problem [big fib]."
Oh my God! It was
the return of the Great Imposter. I knew
enough to demonstrate the woman's footwork to a pattern, but had never
actually partner danced with a man in my life, not even my
dance instructor.
Glen had often insisted I try dancing the girl's part to
music, but I had stubbornly refused because he was gay and
very handsome. I feared partner dancing with a man might
elicit a secret passion I preferred not to deal with. I was terrified of losing
control to my sex drive. Not only was I scared my sex
drive would cause a terrible mistake with Victoria, I was
scared if I danced with Glen I would be overcome with
homosexual desire. I hate to say it, but sometimes it
was not easy being me. But let's forget about that for
the moment
and talk about Charles.
As for my
reluctance to dance with Charles,
it was not a fear of gay panic, but rather my woeful
lack of knowledge about dancing 'Follow' instead of 'Lead'. This
was going to be quite a challenge. Moving at the
speed of snail because I was learning the girl's footwork on
the fly, I caught Charles up on what he had missed in last
week's class. Charles did the footwork okay, but he
was really rough. I had no idea he was so strong.
Hmm. Maybe this is why the girls had laughed about my
'Diamond in the Rough' joke. Well, right now I
didn't think the joke was funny any more. Although I
did not say anything, Charles was hurting me. However,
if the girls could put up with it, I guess I could stop
being a sissy and endure the discomfort.
Soon enough came
the moment I was dreading. Charles wanted to practice
to music. Sure enough, he asked me to play 'Rough
Diamond'. Oh no. Now what do I do? I
decided to play along and do the girl's
part as best I could. To my relief, I
picked up the girl's footwork a lot quicker than I expected.
However I was astonished at how poor Charles was at keeping the
beat. Charles was not even close. The
music was too fast and he could not keep up with it. That
was problem enough, but even more maddening was when his tempo would change. First he would speed up,
then he would slow down. I was stunned. The old
joke was a broken clock hits the right time twice a day.
Not
Charles. He could not even hit a beat by accident. Good grief, how was it possible to
not hear the beat?
There was another
problem. Thanks to Charles, I had
just discovered that dancing off the beat made me crazy. This was
sort of like making a fashion model wear clothes in public that don't match. Dancing off the beat with
Charles became a form of psychological
torture. I could not
figure out what hurt worse, the physical pain or the mental
pain. My mind ached and my muscles ached as Charles danced to the
tune of a distant drummer. Throughout the song 'off-the-beat'
messages screamed like a police siren in my brain.
Finally I couldn't take it any more. I decided I had
to do something. Since I was not your typical petite woman,
I deliberately used the strength of my 200 pound body to move
Charles back to
the correct speed. Huge mistake.
I was suddenly overcome by superhuman power I never
imagined possible.
Sensing I was
having trouble keeping time to his rhythm, Charles had
gotten stronger with his leads. Damn he was strong!
Charles pushed me around without breaking a sweat. My
muscles had ached before, but now they really hurt. I thought
my arms would come out of their sockets if this continued
much longer. My trick was not
working, so I decided to stop trying to influence his tempo.
I muttered "Whatever speed you wish, Officer" and stopped fighting him. Excellent idea. It was
much easier to
move to his
rhythm than it was to force Charles to move to the rhythm of
the music.
Once I stopped
resisting, the physical pain mercifully went away. The physical crisis was over,
but those annoying 'off-the-beat'
messages kept popping up in my brain. It was driving
me crazy to dance off the beat, so in desperation I tried
something new. I decided to ignore the
music completely. I stopped listening and
pretended there was no song playing. That helped
considerably. My mental stress disappeared
immediately. By ignoring the
music and moving at whatever speed Charles wanted, things worked much better.
I had made a valuable discovery. Tuning out
the music worked like a charm! I also realized that
resistance was a very bad option. Lo and behold,
Charles was teaching me the secrets of following. My muscles stopped
hurting and those 'off-the-beat' messages no longer
irritated me.
I named my new technique 'Moving at
the Speed of Charles'.
After we finished dancing, I had a
moment to reflect on how fearful a woman might be of a man’s
power. I knew Charles had no idea that he was hurting me.
Despite his brute strength, he was actually a very kind man.
His display of power was not intentional, I was sure of that. I
imagine some men literally do not understand the extent of
their own strength. As a teacher,
what I should have done was explain to Charles that he was
hurting me and that we needed to work on dancing to the
beat. However, I failed to do that. To be honest, I was so busy coping with
learning the
girl's footwork, I decided to save the heart-to-heart for the next time I saw Charles.
Right now I just wanted
to survive the lesson. Little did I know, but my
decision to
surrender had made a good impression on Charles.
At the end of
the lesson, he had the biggest smile on his face.
I was bewildered. What is he smiling about?
"You
want to know something interesting, Rick?"
"What's that,
Charles?"
"At the start our lesson, you were
terrible as a
woman. You are definitely the heaviest woman I've ever danced
with. But you surprised me and got a lot better
as the lesson went on. Want to know something
funny? You really improved as a woman!"
My mouth
dropped open in shock. I was embarrassed to admit it, but Charles was
right. No truer words had ever been spoken. I
wasn't sure who had learned more about dancing today, me or
Charles (probably me). I thanked him for the backhanded compliment. Charles had
taught me an invaluable lesson. When the man and the
music don’t agree, follow the man, not the music.
I was
eternally grateful to Charles. He
had given me several ideas how to become
a better teacher, both for women and men. Not only did I
learn some of the skills of following,
Charles showed me that if I said things
in a nice way, my students did not mind
being corrected. This led to a
deeper understanding of my role as a
dance teacher. That emboldened me
to say more, so in our next
lesson, I found the courage to ask Charles to ease up on the
strength. To my surprise, Charles seemed to really appreciate
my message. I thought he would get mad at me, but
instead he was tickled pink to be told what he was doing
wrong. Pleased that Charles had taken my criticism the
right way, I said something else.
"Have you ever
driven to work with the radio on and
realized you were so preoccupied with a
problem that you didn't hear the music?"
"Sure, happens
all the time."
"Same thing
for dance music. When a man is learning to
dance, he is so busy trying remember his footwork,
his leads and what
patterns come next that he completely
tunes out the music. Meanwhile
women find it easier to 'follow'
when they react, so they turn their
brain off to make it easier to feel rather than think.
Once their brain is turned off,
women hear the rhythm so clearly that
their feet automatically move to the
speed of the song. It drives them
a little crazy to discover the man and
the music do not coincide.
However, once the music and the man's tempo
are in sync, women feel a flow
to dancing that is quite pleasant.
That is why I think that dancing ON the
beat has a much better chance to unlock
a girl's heart."
Charles smiled.
"That makes sense. Where
did you learn that, Rick?"
"Oh, you know,
I dance the girl's part all the time in
my private lessons [a bald-faced lie].
After a while I
start to see how things work from a
woman's
point of view."
Charles nodded.
"I see your point. Do me a favor
and keep fussing at me when I go off the
beat."
I smiled.
"Of course."
Footnote.
Over time Charles
became an excellent dancer. In the
process, we became lifelong friends.
Charles is the perfect example of how
persistence can compensate for a lack of
natural ability. As I am fond of
saying, even a turtle can make progress
if you give it enough time. His
lack of natural dance ability was a
problem, but patience and determination
got the job done.
After retirement
Charles moved with his lovely wife Carol to a
small Texas town known as Giddings, then later to Culpepper,
Virginia. Wherever Charles and
Carol moved, they became famous as the best dancers in the
community. Charles is proof that it
is not necessary to have great talent. A big heart
and lots of persistence compensates nicely. In that way,
Charles
reminded me a lot of myself.
|
Sunday night, AUGUST 26
ANNABELLE'S
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|
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Annabelle's was
an attractive dance club
high in the sky. Back in July
Victoria and I had been hired
by
the
Westin Galleria Hotel
to teach Disco on Sunday evenings
followed by a demonstration.
Unfortunately
the remote location atop the hotel kept
Annabelle's from being a more popular place,
especially on a Sunday evening. The management
had been looking for a way to boost attendance on Sunday
evenings, always a slow night in the club business.
It was a smart move
to hire us. The
place did good business now that
Victoria and I were teaching there. As the manager had hoped, each week we brought our Camelot entourage
with us.
I
would estimate at least 30 of the guests
each Sunday were students who came along for an evening
of dance. Sunday
evening was a fun time for the group. We would order Macho Man
Margaritas and Bad Girl Pina
Coladas, names on the drink list copied from popular Disco hits.
Our students would get politely smashed, then hit the dance floor
with fierce abandon.
I
liked Annabelle's a lot. It was a lovely
place and I enjoyed the spectacular view of the Galleria
area. It felt like Heaven up here in this lofty
skybox. Due to the continuing onslaught waged by
Country-Western,
Annabelle's was one of
the few Discos left in Houston. As the Disco lights
flickered out one by one around town, Annabelle's
was the land that time forgot. Dancing up here was a
happy reminder of how much I loved Disco. Knowing the
days of Disco were shrinking, I cherished every moment spent
here.
|
The date was Sunday, August
26. Victoria said she would meet me at the
club. As I rode the elevator, my
friend Joanne was on my mind.
Annabelle's
was the place where Joanne had lost her temper and
stomped out back in June, so naturally she was in my thoughts as I
entered the Disco. Joanne and I had not spoken
since and
I doubted I would ever see her again. What a
shame.
I missed Joanne a lot.
Sad
to say, I had a heavy heart for another
reason. Victoria had yet to recover her confidence
following
the Lighthouse
and Foley's accidents earlier in the month. Due to her
belief that accidents happen in Threes, Victoria
was terrified a third mishap was certain to befall her.
Whenever we danced, she
was always looking over her shoulder for more trouble.
For this reason she was
skittish about getting hurt tonight.
Victoria was determined to
avoid her Fate. She believed that by being
extra careful, she could avoid
her third dance accident.
|
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Is it possible to avoid one's
Fate? Once upon a time, I decided to avoid calling a
beautiful Israeli girl named Rachel. We had just met
on a Thursday night at a volleyball game. Afterwards I
asked her how she had become such an excellent player.
After a nice talk, Rachel handed me her phone number, then
asked me for mine. I was torn over
what to do. At the time, Rachel was the most superior
woman I had ever met and the temptation to call her was
overpowering. However, with my confidence hovering
near Rock Bottom, I was convinced I would get
overly-attached and Rachel would break my
heart. Since Rachel was only going to be in town
for a week, why risk my heart? I decided to play it safe and skip
calling her altogether. Better safe than sorry.
I was unable to muster the courage to call all day Friday.
Now it was a Saturday morning. The temptation to call
Rachel was strong, but I was on the fence. My
intuition said this girl was so far out of my league, I was
certain to get fall in love her, then agonize when she left
town. Finally I got up enough courage to call.
I picked up the phone, then hesitated. Fearful that a broken heart was a certainty, I lacked the
courage to finish dialing. The stress was too great,
so I changed my mind and put down
the phone. My mind was made up. I was not going
to call. One second after my decision, the phone
rang. It was Rachel calling to ask if we could spend
the day together. This was an incredible coincidence.
I was so stunned by the uncanny timing, I decided the Force
of Fate 'insisted' that I see her.
Sure enough, I fell in love that day. Sure enough,
Rachel broke my heart
several days later.
Just as I feared, my worst fears had come to pass. And
yet once the pain passed, I was grateful for the time we
spent together. Rachel was every bit as remarkable as
I had guessed. In the process, this experience deepened my belief that
a person cannot dodge their Fate.
|
|
042 |
Serious |
Coincidence
Messenger |
1974 |
| |
Rachel phones Rick with perfect timing to initiate a passionate love
affair. She imparts two messages. If Rick can get his act
together, he has a lot to offer. But without a career, he will
never succeed with women |
|
Now Victoria was in the same
spot. Convinced another dance accident was sure to happen, she
was giving free rein to
fears
of her own. Based on my four dance accidents, Victoria believed I had a Dance Curse
hanging over me. She was certain I was bound to hurt her again
despite my fervent promises that I would be careful. On the
other hand, Victoria knew the manager
liked how our weekly performance really stirred up the crowd.
She knew Annabelle's
wanted us to strut our stuff,
so Victoria gave in and said she would dance tonight. However,
I had to promise not to lead anything spectacular.
She would allow me to throw
in a couple dips and flips to keep
the manager happy, but drew the line at
anything risky.
Fortunately, we
were good enough at this point that we no longer
needed to depend
on death-defying acrobatics to entertain. Thanks
to eight months of training with Glen, we were sleek, graceful, and
fast. We had excellent timing, precise
footwork, and stage presence. Possessing a
countless array of complicated Hustle
patterns that were pleasing to watch, it was
gratifying to know Victoria
and I had completed our dream of becoming top-flight
dancers. Alas, just when we had reached this
pinnacle, I was upset that Victoria refused to allow us to show our best stuff
any longer. What
a shame.
For
our dance lesson that night, I taught a pattern known as
Sweetheart. This was a popular pattern and not too tough
to learn. With our usual crowd of 30 experienced
dancers plus 20
beginners, our class was well attended. Many of the
students already knew this move. They came anyway
mostly to hang out. They were here to see friends,
scout for lovers, and do some dancing. Teaching
dance moves in a nightclub was always a headache because veteran
dancers and beginners took the class side by side. The
uneven skill level was an ongoing problem.
If I catered to the beginners, the veterans were
bored out of their mind. And no matter what I taught,
some of the beginners were bound complain that I was moving
too fast. I did my best to overcome the
handicap by telling jokes, teasing people about their
mistakes and doing the best I could to entertain.
Laughter always made a dance class go better.
After
I finished our dance
lesson,
it was time for Victoria and I
to give our dance performance. Our Annabelle's performance
was good entertainment and we
enjoyed making people smile. This was Victoria's dream come
true. She loved being the center of attention
in a glamorous setting like this dance club at the Top of the World.
She said it was like
dancing on a cloud. And of course
Victoria had her rabid fan base
present to cheer for her.
Victoria definitely enjoyed her popularity,
but I was skeptical it justified risking her marriage.
|
 |
Victoria and I were so polished that everyone thought we did
a prepared routine. Not true. We were just dancing for the fun of it. At this point, I could lead any
move and Victoria would know exactly what to do. Since
I could communicate any move to Victoria on the spot, I was
like a football quarterback who improvises the next move based on
experience. That eliminated any need to rehearse or
memorize what order we would do certain moves. Realizing
how good we had become, I felt a strong sense of regret that
our performing career had been cut short by the recent
accidents. Oh well, dancing half-speed here at Annabelle's
was
a nice alternative for the time being.
There was always the chance
Victoria would change her mind about doing serious
performances again. Speaking of Victoria, as
the manager cleared the floor
prior to our exhibition, she pulled me aside.
"Rick, I want to remind you of your promise
to be extra careful
when we dance tonight. Do you promise to limit the
Acrobatics to the easy stuff?"
I
nodded.
The specter of the recent Foley's
accident was still on our minds.
"I'll tell you what,
Victoria, let's skip acrobatics completely until the end.
We can finish with the Explosion that leads to the Flying Flip. That's a flashy
move and it is safe. Will that work?"
Victoria smiled
gratefully. "Yes, that will be perfect. Thank
you."
As we entered
the floor to warm applause, I noticed our dancing area was
smaller than usual. Now that word of our weekly performance had spread,
tonight's crowd was the largest I had seen.
There were a lot people
crowding the edge of the floor when the music started. Soon the problem
grew worse. As we danced, I
noticed people behind the front row were craning
to get a better view. Due to the crowd pressure
behind them,
several
people in front inched closer to the dance floor. This meant we had
even less floor space to
work with. Fearful someone might
accidentally trip Victoria, I made sure to stay close to the center of the floor. Victoria's accusations that I
had a Curse hanging over me made me feel paranoid.
Consequently I was on alert
trying to avoid the next accident that Victoria was certain was bound to happen. In other
words, yes, I was trying to avoid Fate just
like Victoria. That goal was very prominent in
my thoughts.
|
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|
Victoria
surprised herself. People were so excited to watch her spin
and move her hips that she lost her self-consciousness.
Totally committed to dazzle her
audience, she was suddenly on fire.
At
the very end of our performance, I led Victoria into
the Explosion Position. This was our set-up for the
Flying Flip,
Victoria's favorite acrobatic move.
Victoria's
job was to roll to the very end of her left arm and hit an
eye-catching arm pose for styling. As Victoria
rolled to the end of her arm, her eyes were focused
on me. As always Victoria
snapped her
right arm sideways to hit the
dramatic
Explosion dance pose.
Unfortunately
Victoria
was so intent on
looking at me she never noticed a
female spectator standing
directly behind her. Flinging
her arm out with power to hit the dramatic pose, Victoria's
right hand struck
a woman named Benita full force in the jugular.
It was a
brutal hit. Victoria had just landed a dangerous karate chop
straight to the woman's throat. The slapping sound of Victoria's hand
striking the woman was so loud I could hear it over the music. Everyone in the room saw what happened and
collectively
gasped in horror.
Victoria's lethal blow
must have hurt like hell. Benita tried to scream, but her
injured windpipe would only permit some sort of terrible gurgling
sound.
With both hands gripping her damaged throat, the poor woman
collapsed
to the floor in agony.
She fell so hard that for a moment I was afraid Victoria had killed
the woman. The Deejay saw it happen and stopped the music
immediately. The entire audience screamed in horror as the
woman writhed in agony on the floor. It was really
ugly to watch her contortions. Indeed, the poor woman's rasping noises sounded like a death
rattle.
|
 |
| |
Clutching her throat, Benita coughed and wheezed. I winced as the
poor lady
rolled around gasping for air. It
was awful hearing that gulping sound as she tried to suck
air in. I could not bear to watch, so I turned my
back. Then I felt it was
wrong not to look, so I forced myself to
turn back around. It made me sick to watch poor Benita struggle.
She was in so much
pain, but we did not dare touch her for fear of making
things worse.
Victoria watched too. I could see she was even more horrified
than me. Victoria's
guilt-ridden face was contorted into some sort of terrible
death mask. I really felt sorry for Victoria. I
was certain that she was obsessing over the nightmare about Fate come true.
"How well do you know Benita?" I asked.
Victoria whispered, "Benita is one of
my Tuesday
students. I feel terrible. Benita was here tonight because I
specifically invited her."
Hmm. How's that for irony? As
I watched Benita writhe on the floor, I
could not help but wonder why crazy stuff like this kept
happening over and over again. But I would think about
that later. Right now I was more worried about Benita. Fortunately after
several tense minutes,
Benita recovered
her ability to breathe normally. The pain eventually
subsided and she was able to sit up on the floor, an act
that was accompanied by much applause from the concerned
audience. The manager no doubt applauded the loudest.
He wasted no time offering Benita a
glass of water complete with straw. With a wan smile,
Benita accepted the
water gratefully.
Benita was
more or less okay. Woozy, yes, and her throat was
sore, but no longer deep in pain.
Once she was
able to take a deep breath again, color
returned to her face. Thank goodness! Realizing there seemed to be no permanent damage,
I helped Benita
to a chair. At that point, a line of well-wishers passed by to offer
encouragement to their wounded heroine. Benita was shy
by nature, so she seemed to appreciate the concern.
Victoria got down on her knees in front
of Benita, then grasped both her hands to beg forgiveness.
With giant crocodile tears in her eyes, Victoria apologized profusely
for hurting her.
"I am so sorry, Benita. I cannot
bear that I hurt you so badly. I never saw you there. Please forgive me."
|
 |
Benita
was touched by Victoria's gesture. In a rasping voice, Benita
whispered, "Oh,
it wasn't your fault, Victoria. I shouldn't have been
standing so close, but I couldn't help it. The people
behind me kept pushing me forward. You are such a wonderful dancer
that I wasn't paying any attention to where I stood. I'm just glad you
aren't Bruce Lee!"
Benita's small joke brought smiles to the nervous crowd.
However Victoria did not laugh. Benita was sweet
and forgiving, but Victoria hated herself for causing
so much pain. Fortunately Benita was understanding.
She
beamed at this visit from her teacher and said she would be
okay. Victoria was so relieved she continued to cry. I was proud of
Victoria. Going to Benita was a very classy gesture.
Whenever Victoria wasn't busy being a jerk, she had
tremendous warmth and love about her. Why did she have
to be so complicated?
Guilt is a funny thing.
Even though I did not cause the
accident, I also felt guilty. I thought I was
keeping Victoria in the center of the floor, but maybe I
should have realized in advance that the Explosion Position takes up a lot of room.
That's how Guilt works. We always find a way to blame
ourselves. To be honest, I could
not believe this had happened. The memory of hearing
Benita gurgle and choke for air made me sick. Nor could
I forget how much pain she had been in.
The Karate Chop Accident felt like a very bad omen. And so
it was. There would be immediate repercussions, all of
them
bad.
|
MONDAY, AUGUST 27
VICTORIA WITHDRAWS
|
| |
|
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|
 |
Victoria phoned
on Monday morning.
She was still very
upset. Now that the Dance Curse had struck again, Victoria felt
the same Twilight Zone vibes as me. No matter how hard we had tried to avoid a
third
accident, it
happened anyway. As we
spoke, I could tell by her voice that she was taking the Karate Chop
accident
hard.
There was one odd development... this time Victoria
included herself in the Dance Curse. To my relief, this time she did not completely blame
the problem on me. She knew I had been
careful. That was her hand that hit Benita, not mine.
I was relieved not to be blamed.
Mortified at hurting her friend, Victoria
was beside herself with guilt. Making matters
worse, now she believed she was Cursed too. Victoria had been spooked
before, but this time she was convinced we
were infected with
some sort of
Voodoo Curse. This was the
dreaded Third Event
that Victoria had feared so much. Victoria
could not explain it and she could not make
sense of it, but her feelings were clear...
the
Universe was telling her
we were not meant to perform.
"I am
sorry, Rick, but we should
never perform again.
Something evil
is hanging over our heads. It
has to be."
I did not completely agree with her.
I mean, seriously, why would God object to letting us do
something harmless like dance?
Although I was just as spooked as she was, I thought
she was over-reacting by quitting altogether. However,
this was not the time to argue about it. Better to let
her calm down, then talk some more later.
I have
complained endlessly about my problems during the Year
of Living Dangerously. But you know what?
Due to her serious
marital problems,
Victoria probably suffered just as
much as I did.
Victoria had confided her
daughter Stephanie, 4, was affected by
the marital problems. Last night during an
argument with Michael related to the Karate Chop
accident, the little girl began crying. Infuriated, Michael lost his temper.
"For
Christ's sake, Victoria, try
staying home once in while! Maybe your
daughter
wouldn't cry all the time!"
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Now it
was Victoria's turn to sob. There
had to be a Curse,
Victoria
was sure of it.
Her husband
hated her, her daughter cried when they fought,
Disco was dying, she nearly put a woman in
the hospital and she had no idea what to do about
me.
It crushed her when Michael blamed
their daughter's misery on her insistence to dance four nights a the week (Tuesday,
Thursday, Friday Camelot, Sunday Annabelle's). Victoria
reluctantly agreed she was neglecting her
daughter. Right now she was consumed with
guilt... guilt for ruining her marriage, guilt for
neglecting her child, guilt for hurting Benita.
"Rick, I'm sorry to give you more bad news. As
far as I am concerned, that
karate chop incident put the nail in the coffin.
That was the last straw.
I have no enthusiasm
left. Every time I perform, someone gets hurt.
Not only that, now my daughter is crying.
Things aren't going well for my
little Stephanie."
What a
shame about her daughter. I had wondered if
Stephanie would be affected by listening to her
parents fight. It saddened me to hear she was
being hurt in the same
manner as my own childhood ordeal.
With deep regret, I recalled the countless nights
when I had cried myself to sleep while my parents
screamed at each other in another room. It was
bizarre to see Stephanie suffer a similar fate.
"What is going
on with your daughter?"
"Lately
Stephanie cries all the time. She knows something
is very wrong between her parents. I am convinced I am being punished for
allowing my love of dance to interfere with my
obligation as her mother. I have decided I am just as
cursed as you are. I see last night's accident as a sign from God that
I am doing something wrong. No more performing for
me."
I didn't
argue with Victoria. Maybe she was right. This was just too weird. Three
accidents in a row bunched so close together was tough to overlook.
"There's
more. I have decided to stop taking private
lessons with you and Glen."
Uh oh. I
did not see this
development coming. "Why not?"
"What is the point of learning acrobatics to
perform when I won't be performing anymore?
Besides, with my luck, you will break my neck
learning some new move. But most of all, I
can't bear to be reminded of how close we came
to being great."
I
frowned. It was a shame to quit at the exact
moment that our nine months of hard work had finally
paid off. Nor did I want to take Glen's private
lessons alone. However, if she refused to
participate, there wasn't anything I could do about
it.
"What about
the class you teach on Tuesday
and Thursday?"
"I
will continue to do that."
"Tell me
again why are you
quitting private lessons. They have always been very important
to you. We can skip the acrobatics."
"I've had
all I can take. My
superstitious side says enough is enough.
The thought of performing isn't fun any more.
God is telling me to stop now or suffer more
consequences.
I will use that time to spend with Stephanie
instead."
"What about
Annabelle's on Sunday"
"I'm done
with that too. I want you to call
Annabelle's and tell them
we are quitting."
I was not happy
about this at all. "Come on,
Victoria, you enjoy Annabelle's. That was a freak
accident and you know it. All we have to do is make
sure we back people
further away from the floor."
"No, you are
wrong. You promised me you would be extra
careful and it still did no good. Besides, when you're
cursed, you're cursed. You're cursed, I'm
cursed, we're both cursed and I am done performing.
And don't even think about replacing me at
Annabelle's, do you
understand? I don't want to hear about you dancing
with some other woman in my place."
If I had someone
capable of replacing Victoria, I might have defied her, but
there was no one qualified to take her place other than
Joanne. Since Joanne would never dream of returning to
Annabelle's, that was that. The party is over.
With a sinking
heart, I agreed to call the manager later this morning and
resign for both of us.
"There's one
more thing," Victoria said.
I groaned.
"Now what?"
"I am not
going to the Pistachio Club this coming
Friday. Michael and I are planning to have a long talk
over the Labor Day weekend. Stephanie is going to stay with some
family friends who have a daughter her age."
"That's
fine with me. Anything else?"
"No, I guess
that's it for the time being. I
need to give this Dance Curse some more thought and ask
for God's guidance."
And with that,
Victoria hung up the phone. This was a very
depressing conversation. The loss of
Annabelle's and Victoria's refusal to perform
combined with the menace of Urban Cowboy
was very
upsetting. This phone felt like my Magic Carpet Ride
was coming to an end. I really did have a Dance Curse, didn't I?
The outlook for September looked very gloomy. It felt like the end
of my dance career was just around the corner.
I
thought about Country-Western dancing. There
did not seem to be much hope there. The
dancing was so simple that it really did not require
a professional to explain it. Back when
Saturday Night Fever hit big, I had been
inundated with Disco students. Now thanks to
the Western Transformation, roughly 30 Discos had
closed only to reopen as Country-Western dance
clubs. Now that the entire city of Houston had
gone kicker, where was the similar flood of requests
for Western lessons? As things stood, I had
yet to receive a single request for a lesson.
I could not imagine a more threatening omen.
Without students, it was time to turn out the
lights.
Looking on the
bright side, I believed I had finally gotten Victoria off my
back. I had expected to get rid of
Victoria eventually. The way I saw it, Disco
would not last past the Christmas Holidays. Once Disco folded,
Victoria's tentacles would vanish automatically.
However, why wait till Christmas? Now that the
Karate Chop calamity had cleared her eyes, perhaps
Victoria's pursuit was over. I sure hoped so. The
past two months of Negotiations, Dance Curse,
Moonlight Madness, and Darya's influence had been horrible.
Perhaps the Karate Chop had a silver
lining. Based on the sound of her voice, whatever ardor
Victoria once felt for me seemed erased. Victoria
said she and Michael were going to spend next
weekend talking over their problems. With a
little soul-searching, maybe she would come to her senses.
If ever there was a perfect time to call it quits,
this was it. Disco was dying, Stephanie was crying, Michael was
frying. If Victoria followed the implications of the Dance Curse to
their logical conclusion, she would see her dreams of a future with me
were hopeless. Based on her despondent mood, I believed my
freedom was close at hand. I wanted to be rid of
Victoria so much I could barely see straight.
I didn't even care if she left the studio. What was the point
of continuing? Her classes
were certain to be small in September, Annabelle's
was gone, our private lessons were gone, her
enthusiasm was missing. Do us both a favor.
Just go.
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