MYSTERY OF THE TEXAS TWOSTEP

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE:

CONSPIRACY

Written by Rick Archer 

LIMBO MONTH TWO Monday, NOVEMBER 26, 1979 THE CONSPIRACY UNFOLDS

As Devin and Mona practiced the Waltz, people from my 8 pm Western class were beginning to show up.  I tried to get my nerves under control.  This had been the closest call of my fledgling Western dance career, far more serious than Bronco Bill.  Nor was I sure I had made a clean getaway.  I worried that my initial confusion still bothered Devin.  They say Procrastinators are incurable optimists right until the curtain comes crashing down to kill them.  That could very well be me tonight. 

I went back to my Disco class to wrap things up.   I thanked Lynette for taking over while I fiddled with Devin and Mona.  I was alarmed when she offered only the faintest of smiles.  Then she walked away in silence. 

What was that all about?  Tracking Lynette's direction, I noticed she was headed to Devin and Mona to swap notes.  Certain that she wanted to know what was going on, I felt a shudder race down my spine.  Well, nothing I could do about it, so I turned to the Western students.  "Okay, everybody, let's warm up."  

As the room began to fill up with my Western students, no one was smiling.  This was not going to be easy.  It was my own fault.  I had dug myself into quite a hole.  Would I be able to crawl out of this fix or would the Firing Squad have the last say?

I felt like I was attending a funeral, my own. 

Should I bring my own blindfold or would the Lynch Mob provide one for me? 

Well, I was not going to give up without a fight.  Putting my game face on, I played a Polka and told them to warm up.  This time I paid better attention to the speed of the music.  By reducing the tempo, the slower speed made a big difference for my beginners.  Immediately their performance improved, a good sign.  I smiled.  One small step for my comeback.  Just then I noticed one of the students ask Lynette to dance.  I sighed with relief as she excused herself from Devin and Mona.  The less they spoke together, the better.  While everyone practiced the Polka steps we had covered last week, I asked Sally to dance. 

I noticed Susan was not with her.  Curious, I asked Sally about it.  "Where's Susan tonight?"

"Susan chickened out.  After she fell one time, someone made fun of her dancing.  Susan was too embarrassed to see that man again."

"Are you serious?  Some guy picked on Susan last week?"  

"Yes.  He was very mean to her.  He told Susan she had no business being in here."

I winced.  Whoever said that was correct, but I could not believe someone had the nerve to say it out loud.

"Susan never mentioned it to me."

"She doesn't know you well enough.  But she told me afterwards."

"Who was the man?  Is he here tonight?"

Sally pointed to Dave.  "He was mean to me too, but I was mean right back to him so he left me alone after that.  Susan's different.  Susan isn't very brave."

I immediately frowned.  Dave was the same guy who had given me trouble in my first week of class concerning the neck wrap.  What was wrong with that guy?  Where did he get the nerve to think he had the right to criticize these women?  For that matter, what was wrong with people in general?  Shoving people at dance clubs and criticizing a woman just because she was a beginner... why were these Western people so mean?

Speaking of Dave, at the moment, he was over in the corner with Devin and Mona.  I smiled grimly.  Based on the nasty look on their faces, this had the markings of a conspiracy.  Dave must have sensed my eyes on him because he looked up and frowned when he saw me.  What was that all about? 

Devin glanced my way as well.  His furrowed eyebrows reinforced my fear that he was not going to let me off the hook.  No doubt Devin had spotted the fear in my eyes when he confronted me.  I worried that he and Mona were busy telling Dave I had taught them the wrong move last week. 

When Dave's girlfriend Sylvia arrived, she joined the hush-hush conversation with Devin and Mona.  While everyone else practiced to the music, the four of them were in heated discussion.  Given my paranoia, I was reminded of Roman Senators assembling to discuss the fate of Julius Caesar.  I was certain Devin and Mona nursed a grudge.  Nor did I blame them.  My mistake had caused them immense humiliation.   Had I been in their shoes, I would have been upset too.  I had made a very serious blunder.

"Beware the Ides of Waltz!"

If there was to be an ambush, I was certain Dave and Devin would lead it.  I was a marked man.  Would they knife me, hang me or shoot me?  More likely, they would simply tie me up and play Mamas, don't let your Babies grow up to be Cowboys on endless loop.   Cruel, yes, but justified. 

Effective too.  I would die quickly because I couldn't take the pain.

THE TEXAS TWOSTEP gamble

When the Polka song ended, it was time for the biggest gamble of my career.   I was about to introduce a style of Twostep based on Foxtrot patterns that had probably never seen the light of day on a country-western dance floor.

Three years earlier I had dated a girl named Caitlin.  Returning to her apartment after a movie, Caitlin insisted on teaching me the Aggie Twostep in her living room.  Side-touch, Side-touch, Walk-Walk.  At the time, I assumed the two walking steps forward gave the Twostep its name.  Caitlin, a graduate of Texas A&M, had told me this dance was all the rage back at her school.  Of course I rolled my eyes.  Compared to Disco, this had to be the lamest form of dancing I had ever encountered.  I mastered it in two minutes.

One year ago, July 1978 to be exact, I had seen my boss Lance Stevens teach the exact same thing to a small group of five Country-Western couples.  To be honest, I was shocked to see Caitlin had been correct.  By moving sideways most of the time, this goofy Side-Touch dance barely moved.  Not only that, the women were expected to dance backwards for the entire song.

Then it happened a third time.  During my June 1979 visit to the Cactus Club, there it was again: Side-touch, Side-touch, Walk-Walk.  That was all the proof I needed to become certain.  I had three examples to support my belief that the Aggie Twostep was the most primitive form of partner dancing in existence.  However, I had another name for it.  I called it the 'Prairie Twostep'.  Curious why the dancing was so easy, I came up with my theory about the vast Texas prairie.  The only way a cowboy could meet a single girl other than saloons or church was to ride into town from far-flung ranches to attend the big Saturday night barn dance.  Since there were no dance studios on the prairie, they kept the dancing simple enough to learn on the spot.  In fact, by shuffling sideways half the time, that made it easy for the Cowboy to strike up a conversation with a young lady as they danced.  Besides, all he really wanted was an excuse to get his arm around the girl.  He could have cared less about making the dance stimulating.

Unfortunately, the dancing had not progressed much in the past hundred years.  How would I ever carve out a fabulous career given such uncomplicated dancing?  As my Monday night Western group had demonstrated, an accomplished dancer could learn everything I knew in a couple of hours.  Fortunately Joanne had thrown me a lifeline.  She claimed there was some sort of emerging 'New Country' Twostep.  The irony was that the new version seemed to have originated at Texas A&M.  Upon questioning, Joanne estimated 90% of the men she danced with used the old 'Prairie Twostep' while a handful of young A&M graduates used the new version.  Noticing the phrase "Slow Slow Quick Quick" suggested a connection to the Ballroom dance known as Foxtrot, I decided to bet the farm on Joanne's admittedly sketchy understanding.  This was a very risky gamble.  Would someone recognize that I was teaching Ballroom Foxtrot?  Probably not, but there was always a chance.  More likely someone would point out I was teaching patterns that did not in any resemble what people were dancing in the clubs. There was no guarantee what I was about to teach resembled Joanne's New Twostep.  Nor was there was any guarantee my students would like it.  More likely they would conclude this strange concoction proved I had no idea what I was doing. 

But here's the deal... what choice did I have?  If I taught Side-touch, Side-touch, Walk-Walk, my career was over because I had nothing else left to teach.  Joanne swore there were no other patterns to the Prairie Twostep.  It boggled my mind to think that women were willing to put up with this.  Can you imagine women forced to dance backwards for the past 100 years doing nothing but Side-touch, Side-touch, Walk-Walk all night long?  I guess if the guy was cute enough, anything's possible.  But that would not work for me.  Since the "Old Country Twostep" was so limited, I decided the only possible way to extend my dance career was to introduce the laboratory concoction that Glen and I had cooked up based on hints from Joanne.

What should I call it?  The Aggie Twostep?  The New Country Twostep?  Neither name felt right, so I decided to call it the 'Texas Twostep'.  Not terribly original, but effective.  Tonight I would see if my gamble worked.

INTRODUCING THE 'NEW' TEXAS TWOSTEP

I had a surprise for my class.  I had decided to quit cowering.  The best way to deal with trouble-makers is to keep them too busy to complain.  I immediately recognized Susan's absence was a real blessing.  Without Susan around, I would be able to move at a pace which challenged my thoroughbreds while keeping Sally as my partner to protect her.

Without warning I skipped a Polka review and introduced the 'New' Texas Twostep instead.  There was no mention of 'Ballroom Foxtrot'.   No reason to arouse suspicion.  There was enough of that already.  Now that I had blown my chance to study the Twostep by actually visiting a dance club, I had no choice but teach what I had learned from Joanne and Glen.  If my Foxtrot/Twostep creation was correct, I had a chance to get through this.  But if anyone objected to my invention, game over. 

To my surprise, my concoction worked.  No one objected when I called it the Texas Twostep.  Even better, they seemed to like my fake version of the Twostep.  Of course, I did pull one trick.  I only used Foxtrot patterns that went forward.  I would save asking the men to go 'Backwards' till next week.  Magically, my students accepted Ballroom Foxtrot as the real thing.  Wow.  What a relief!  One thing I learned was that people liked the Twostep better than the Polka.  This is because the pace of the Twostep was considerably slower than racetrack Polka.  That made everyone happy.  In addition, I moved things along at the same speed my Disco classes used to move at. 

This was good and this was bad.  The good news is that my students were finally in a good mood.  Since the energy was reminiscent of the Days of Disco, it was like the 'Old Rick' had reappeared.  It had taken me four weeks to hit my stride, but better late than never.  Unfortunately there was one major problem.  I was forced to use virtually all the material I had left in the tank in a desperate attempt to feed the beast.  Even if I survived tonight, I did not have much to teach next week or the final two classes in December.  Well, that was a chance I had to take.  Maybe Glen could show me something new.  Plus I could make the guys dance backwards.  I'm sure they would love that.

I kept Sally to myself all night long rather than make her switch partners.  Sally was a slender white-haired lady twice my age.  Keeping her as my permanent partner was a wise move because it shielded her from any further hostility from Dave or some other impatient men.  This allowed me to keep the class moving at a rapid clip.  As a result, no one could get a word in edgewise.  Good!  The fewer questions, the better. 

I was on guard the entire evening.  My tension prevented me from using my usual joking, teasing style.  I wasn't in the mood.  Instead I was all business.  I made them all the fancy moves Glen had shown me like Side Travel and Conversation.  I kept them moving so fast that even some of my veteran students were struggling to keep up.  That is what I wanted.  I needed to dictate the pace and keep these people off balance so they would be too busy to complain.  Poor Sally!  She could barely keep up due to the rapid pace of the class.  However I think Sally caught on to my strategy because she gamely hung in there.  I was proud of her.  Or should I say she was proud of herself.  Sally was actually starting to catch on.   

Due to my work with Glen, I was able to handle a few questions, but every moment was full of anxiety.  I worried the next question might be the kill shot.  Danger could come from any direction.  Between the Waltz challenge, the Twostep gamble, and questions on some of my blank areas, I walked a tightrope the entire night.  Yes, I was winning the battle, but the pressure was nearly unbearable.  All it would take would be one mistake at the last minute to undo my command performance.  Besides, I still had this Waltz problem hanging over my head.  I recalled the conspiracy over in the corner before class.  Who knows what Dave and Devin had planned?  I was a nervous wreck all night long, but at least the Great Imposter was on his game.

One of the Twostep moves I introduced was Glen's Foxtrot pattern called the Zigzag.  I was scared out of my wits.  It was an odd move where the man moves sidewise down the floor as opposed to going straight forward.  I had no idea whether this was a valid Twostep move or not, so I was taking a big chance.  As I feared, no one had ever seen this move before.  But no one complained!  In fact, to my consternation, several men said they liked the move.  I got the impression the men liked learning something they had never seen before, especially since the women were definitely smiling.  As the evening continued, this class went a lot better than I could have expected. My students liked the new Twostep material and the increased pace of the class.  Despite my catastrophic fantasies, nothing happened.

One reason the class went so well was due to my extensive preparation with Glen.  My hunch that Foxtrot and Twostep were pretty much the same had paid off handsomely.  Of course, I had to sacrifice yet another one of my nine lives of the cat to escape unscathed like this.  Considering all the escapes I had made lately, I figured I had at most two cat lives left.

AMBUSH

Unlike Caesar, I did not need a soothsayer to warn to me of impending doom.  There was something in the air tonight, I was sure of it.  I could feel it, but I could not see it.  At the same time, I was very confused.  Everyone seemed so happy to finally be learning something useful, maybe I was wrong to be suspicious.  Was this plot a figment of my overworked imagination?    If there was a plot, then why is everyone so damn cheerful?  If there was an attack coming, it was well disguised by smiling faces.

Keep in mind that most of these people were long-time friends.  If there was danger, it would come from Devin and Mona because they had a legitimate axe to grind.  I was also concerned about Dave, Jerry and Lynette.  Lynette had been distinctly frosty tonight and Jerry had asked several pointed questions. 

As it turned out, the cabal was simply waiting for class to end.  The moment I began my concluding words, Devin, Mona, Dave, and Sylvia circled me.  Jerry and Lynette were right behind them.  The ringleaders beckoned for the rest of the students to surround me further.  Curious, every person in the room came over to see what was going on.  I was certain this trap had been planned.  Enveloped in a tight circle three people deep, I wondered who held the knife.  Was it Lynette?  Was it Dave?  Et tu, Brute.  

Lynette had most everyone laughing, but not Devin and Mona.  Their arms were crossed and their frowns said it all.  As for Dave, he was running out of patience.  There was a look of hostility on his face that said he was ready to get ugly if I resisted much longer.  With Dave itching to lower the boom, I decided my best move was to cooperate before he lost his temper.

The other students who encircled me were not hostile.  However they were pushy.  Something definitely had them agitated.  They were all pressuring me to go dancing with them TONIGHT.  Like it or not, I had no choice.  To say 'no' would provoke a rebellion.  If we had a confrontation right here, I would never survive.  No, going to Cowboy was a far better option than standing here making lame excuses. 

I was panic-stricken.  What would I do if I was the worst dancer on the floor??  Surely there was a way out.  There had to be some way for me to escape.  Nope.  Not with twenty people surrounding me.  Seeing I was trapped, I gave in.  With a heavy heart, I reluctantly said, "Okay, I guess I can go.  Let me go make a phone call to Victoria."

Believe it or not, no one left the dance studio.  Believe it not, all 20 people stuck around to watch me go through the charade of making a phone call.  In truth, I simply called my own house and pretended to speak to someone.  After I hung up, I said Victoria couldn't make it on short notice, but did not mind if I went to Cowboy with the gang.  I put on a brave face and announced I was ready.  It was time to face the music.  I groaned.  Bad choice of terms.  I groaned at the thought of listening to country music for a full night.

"Up aginst the wall, Redneck mutha!"

No truer words had ever been sung.