Chapter 15: The Carioca

During the last weeks of August Cookie found herself spending more of her afternoons at the close-by Bedford public library. Being denied most forms of entertainment, all of her life, she had immersed herself in books on a variety of subjects. She had gotten into the library habit during the last school year, spending her lunch-hours eating in the school's library so as to avoid getting her sack lunch taken away or having to deal with the hurt of being avoided and sitting alone in a cafeteria full of students. The library was peaceful for her and safe and a place full entertainment and education. By the end of that summer Cookie was reading and understanding material meant for high-school students and even college level texts.

The late summer had been hot and the only thing that cooled Cookie off was spending a little time in the shower. She had to take those showers before anyone woke up in the morning or after they had gone to bed at night because her father had a standing order that she was never to close the bathroom door, when she was in there, no matter what she was doing.

"You're not so special," he had said, "that you need to keep anything private from the men in this house."

Cookie tried to use the bathroom only when no one was around and, for the most part, that had worked for her.

After putting away the laundry, one hot afternoon, Cookie was cleaning house when Corey turned on the living room radio and started to shuffle and dance to the latest hits on WKNR-Keener 13, the local top forty station.

Besides being good at football, her brother was a very good dancer and knew all of the latest steps. Corey was, in fact, as popular at school as Cookie was reviled. Girls just seemed to flock to him and fawn over him in the hallways and guys both looked up to him and feared him for his size, athletic ability and the attention he attracted from the opposite sex.

"Hey, sis," he called to her, seeing Cookie dusting the dining room table in her comfortable, short, light-blue cotton dress, "come and dance with me."

"Me?" Cookie responded and smiled as if she found humor in the whole notion. "You don't want to dance with me, Corey. I can't dance a bit."

"Nonsense," he said, dancing and beckoning her with both outstretched hands. "If you're my sister, you can certainly dance."

Cookie dropped her dust-rag and reluctantly stepped to him as he took her hands and started to do a dance step, rocking her arms and pulling her around with him.

"Come on, Cookie," he said, stopping for a moment. "Watch me and look at what I do and follow along."

"But, Corey I..."

"This is called the monkey," he said as he stepped back from her and started to work his arms and gyrate his hips to the music. "Come on, sis, you do it."

Hesitantly she started to do exactly as he was doing and, instead of laughing at her movements, he said, "Very good. You're doing it. Yeah."

Then he changed and started to move from side to side with his arms alternating in an up and outward motion, "This is the hitch-hike," he explained and she studied him for a moment and then started to do that with him.

Her brother smiled broadly as she strived to copy his movements and do the dance exactly as he showed her, "You're fantastic, Cookie," he exclaimed. "That's it exactly. You're a natural, sis."

Corey now started to rock his hips and wave his arms out to his sides before her. "This is the swim."

And Cookie did that, waving her arms as he waved and rocking her hips as he rocked and holding her nose and dipping in a low shimmy, with her other arm above her head, as he did that.

"All these years," he exclaimed, watching her move to the music, "I could have had a dance partner, right here at home, and I didn't know it!"

Now the song changed, on the radio, and the dee-jay announced the singer as Chubby Checker.

"Here, Cookie," he said excitedly. "Stand beside me now. This is the pony and we normally do it in a line." And Corey started to show her as she watched him and followed his moves.

"We step to the right, foot crossing foot. That's it. One, two three steps and then clap and turn and three steps to the left, right beside me." And Cookie did as he did, step for step, without hesitation, keeping right with him through the whole song.

"Oh, you're fantastic, Cookie," Corey said excitedly. "I can't believe how good you are and how fast you learn."

"Stop," Cookie told him. "You're just saying that."

"No. You're a natural dancer. I mean it, Sis. You learn so quickly and you move with such ease. There's dances coming up at school and you're going to turn some heads this year I can tell you."

"Oh, go on."

"I'm serious," he told her. "I never joke about dancing. It's important to me and I use dance-related moves when I play football."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I'm always trying to show the guys on the team but they're too stupid to understand. When I quarterback, I use coordinated steps to fall back into the pocket and look downfield for an open receiver. I use dance-related steps to allude defenders and side-step pass rushers. The coach thinks I'm on to something and I think he's going to make me the team captain this year."

"Oh, Corey," his sister gushed, "I think that's great ... my brother, the captain of the football team."

"It's not official yet, so we can't say anything, but I think he'll announce it before the first practice."

The radio started to play a song by the Righteous Brothers now and Corey reached for his sister and told her, "I have to show you how to dance a slow one now." And he took her left hand in his right as he wrapped his other arm around her thin waist, just above the flair of her hips and held her close to him.

Cookie felt that sense of recoil for a moment but it quickly went away and she put her arm to his back as she realized that this was her dear brother, this was Corey, who had never hurt her and had always seemed to love and care about her even though he had to hide it from their father. She understood the reason her brother never bought her presents for birthdays or Christmases and sat quietly at the table while she was being punished. It was because he knew that any affection shown to his sister, around their father, would only bring severe wrath upon her and he never wanted to be the cause of it.

"Just follow my lead," he instructed as he held her and began to slowly dance with her. And Cookie did just that, able to sense what steps he was going to do (before he did them) and what direction he was going in (before he went) and when he was going to turn (before he did). It was so effortless to dance with him and follow his lead and it felt so warm and safe to be held in his embrace as they moved together in unison. This was the handsomest, most popular boy at Pershing Junior High School and the object of adoration of all the girls there and he was giving his full, undivided attention to her.

Cookie had never felt this good in her life and she put her blonde head against his upper chest and Corey put his cheek to the top of her head and led the two of them in a slow turn.