A Dance Phil’d Heart

It was only noon but Phil was already sweating profusely. His wife had been right, July was no time for turtlenecks.

As he shuffled up the street he could feel beads of moisture run down his sides and into the waistband of his boxers. Phil did many weird things but wearing winter clothes during the summer months was one of the strangest.

But stranger things were upon young Phil than fashion choices. For instance, why was his summer school science teacher assigning him Shakespeare to read? And in Spanish?

As Phil read the classic line “ser or no ser” in his new sequin track suit, he realized his science teacher had left the classroom. Where did Mr. Jackson go? Phil stood up so fast he knocked his desk over, causing everyone to turn towards him. He knew what to do next.

All his tap dancing night classes could finally be put to work. No longer would his classmates look down on him as a young man who didn’t know how to tap dance. He’d finally impress them all, including one special lady in particular.

Phil approached his mark in the velvety darkness of the theater. His steps graceful, his tap shoes inaudible. Phil knelt down, as he had done a hundred times before, and waited for the beat.

And with a snap of the band leader’s fingertips, the percussive brassiness only a troupe like Saul’s could muster was off and running. But could Phil’s delicate choreography keep up?

The pressure was enormous. He marched. He turned. He marched some more. With every step, Phil could feel the music flowing through him. The crowd was on their feet, their “oohs” and “ahhs” giving him power and strength. Phil couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt so right.

When the music ended, there was a hushed quiet. A single clap broke the silence. Then another. Until the whole auditorium was full of boisterous applause. Phil couldn’t help but smile at his success.

He picked one rose up off the floor and smelled it deeply as he thought of all the moments that led to this one. His skeptics, his supporters. The very first dance lesson he had with his grandmother. After crying and sweating in equal measure, Phil took a long and gracious bow and walked off the stage, right into the audience.

Pulsing with the euphoric energy of the crowd, Phil realized that entertainment was both his alpha and his omega. With sweat on his brow he knocked on the door to his once feared competitor. It was time for reconciliation.

Phil thought about everyone who had gotten him to this moment. He pictured his tough-love father yelling at him to run faster, his kind-hearted mother hugging him tight, his rambunctious brother wrestling him to the floor, and his free spirited sister dancing in the kitchen. “This is for you” he whispered to himself.