Epaule

 

Silence was a kind of lie. Leaving something unsaid that one ought to say. 

Jackie lied for the fear of being revealed in her hopes.  She knew what everyone would say, “You?  With him!”  And they would all have a good laugh.  Then they would say things to remind her of her place.

It meant confronting the fear of standing alone in love.  Looking like the fool she knew she was.  She lied for fear of being seen in her brokenness and frailty and incompetence.  The little girl she had been, left alone, uncared for and undernourished, pitiful, and desperate…in need of a good holding and repair.

 

James lied for the protection of his reputation, for fear of being laid low in love, and losing everything he had earned in social standing and reputation.  All the scaffolding he had set in place to do well, to achieve.  He lied from his practical mind, the place that insisted he stay reasonable and sound and not align himself with anything that would impede his sensibilities, good decision, and prudence. He pushed down what his heart was trying to tell him.  Why should he answer this impulse?  They were feelings, only feelings and they would pass. It was only fleeting passion and foolery.

 

“Have you never been to a dance?” James asked as they were lying together one rainy afternoon.

Jackie covered her face and giggled. “Not the kind you’re thinking, I’m sure.”

James uncovered her face and held her hands, he rose from the bed, and she followed.  They stood facing each other and she smiled for whatever his plan might be.  He placed his hand at her waist and held her other hand in his.  He showed her a basic box step and of course she took to it.

“Do you have music?”

 “Only and old music box.” She laughed.  “I’m sure it will do.” He assured her.

 She walked over to her bedside. It was a child’s jewelry box with nothing in it except for a snow globe with a ballerina inside posed in Epaule.   Jackie wound the underside and when the music began to play, the dancer went round to the song, Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the swans.

The afternoon went on and James stayed longer than he should, and they danced in bedclothes, smiling until the Mistress yelled for him to leave.

And when he walked down the street, away from the Brothel he looked back to find her window open, and she, still dancing by herself. He watched her a moment until she saw him watching her from the street, and reached toward him in Epaule, like the Ballerina in her silly globe.  He found himself reaching back toward her and stood there a moment, smiling at her with a full heart.

“Yours for a price!” A stranger cackled at him, passing by.

All at once James remembered himself, tucked his hat on his head and ducked into an alley, lest he be seen by anyone he knew.

 From her window Jackie danced on, safely tucked in her room, her own little globe, dancing with  a heart full of love.