“Runaround Sue” by Dion came up first, and Brett held out her hand to me while swaying her hips from side to side. It was an invitation impossible to ignore. I came in from the kitchen and took her hand.
She said, “Hap, let’s dance, baby.”
I used to dance well, but I didn’t do it much anymore. But right then that music was beautiful and stirring, and I began to dance, and my body became loose and easy. I told myself I would never pick up a gun again. I would never get involved with anything where I might be hurt or I might hurt someone else. It wasn’t the first time I had spoken to myself that way.
Brett dropped my hand and came in close and we rolled our shoulders and swung our hips, touched noses, then moved back and let the music take us.
Reba laughed, but then she and Nikki were out there with us, dancing together, clowning a little. Cason and Manny joined in, followed by Pookie and Leonard.
Leonard proved once again that the idea that all black men can dance is a myth. He had the rhythm of a broken clock. But Pookie, now, he had it, man. He could move.
Hanson kept his seat and clapped his hands to the beat.
Brett signaled to him, did it a couple of times. Hanson got up and came over. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close and the three of us danced until Hanson’s bad leg sent him back to his chair.
More old music followed, the Beach Boys, early Beatles, Buddy Holly, the Sun hits of Johnny Cash, all the gods of rhythm and blues, rockabilly, and rock ’n’ roll. Brett turned it up.
As we danced, the day began to fade and the night began to crawl and the room turned dark.
Hanson turned on the lights. We all stopped and ate some more, had some coffee while some slow ones played, and then we were back at it when the fast ones came, dancing like fools. We did that tirelessly, late into the night, constantly replacing played-out sounds with unplayed sounds, and at some point, for no reason I could determine, there were tears in my eyes, running down my cheeks.
I looked at Brett and smiled, and she smiled back.
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Joe R. Lansdale is the author of nearly four dozen novels, including Jackrabbit Smile, Edge of Dark Water, the Edgar Award–winning The Bottoms, and the Spur Award–winning Paradise Sky. He has received eleven Bram Stoker Awards, the American Mystery Award, the British Fantasy Award, and the Grinzane Cavour Prize. He lives with his family in Nacogdoches, Texas.
BOOKS BY JOE R. LANSDALE
THE HAP AND LEONARD NOVELS
Savage Season
Mucho Mojo
The Two-Bear Mambo
Bad Chili
Rumble Tumble
Captains Outrageous
Vanilla Ride
Devil Red
Honky Tonk Samurai
Jackrabbit Smile
The Elephant of Surprise
OTHER NOVELS
The Magic Wagon
The Drive-In
The Nightrunners
Cold in July
The Boar
Waltz of Shadows
The Bottoms
A Fine Dark Line
Sunset and Sawdust
Lost Echoes
Leather Maiden
All the Earth, Thrown to the Sky
Edge of Dark Water
The Thicket
Paradise Sky
SELECTED SHORT-STORY COLLECTIONS
By Bizarre Hands
Sanctified and Chicken-Fried
The Best of Joe R. Lansdale