Chapter 8

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“The creepy guy.”

“Who?”

“You know the creepy guy.”

“Do you meant the guy who is always quoting dead people.”

“Yes.”

“What did he do?”

“He asked Denise to dance.”

“Whoa! Where’s the body?”

“She didn’t kill him.”

On hearing that, more people joined in the conversation.

“You’re kidding. What happened?”

“She said, ‘No thank you.’”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s not like her at all.”

“She chewed up and spit out the last guy who asked her to dance.”

“Believe it. She said something to her boyfriend. He picked up the creepy guy and carried him outside.”

“Scratch one creepy guy. He’s dead.”

“No, the creepy guy just came back.”

“He isn’t bleeding.”

“Is this like some kind of horror show?”

“Where’s Denise’s boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s creepy guy doing?”

“It looks like he’s headed back to Denise.”

“Where’s the music from the Twilight Zone?”

A crowd of people moved closer to catch all of the action. This was going to be good.

Danny said, “Hello, Denise. May I have this dance?”

Looking like she had swallowed a lemon, Denise said, “No, thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll be back,” Danny said while starting to turn away.

“Where’s my boyfriend?”

Danny paused and turned back to face Denise. He answered, “He’s recovering.”

“From what?”

“It was the weirdest thing. He hit the funny bones on both elbows at the same time. You should have seen the look on his face.”

“He hit his funny bones?”

“Yes. I would have said that his expression was one of surprise, but it was more like, ‘Oh shit. What do I do now?’ I would have helped him, but usually people like to deal with their embarrassment alone. I’m sure he’ll be back anytime, now.”

“Goodbye,” Denise said said through gritted teeth.

“As Robert Plant said, ‘Whenever I have bid a hasty goodbye to a loved one, I’ve always made sure that my record collection was safely stored away in the boot of the car.’ You wouldn’t happen to know where your record collection is, would you?”

Denise rose out of her chair toward him. At the last second, she looked over at Mrs. Shapiro, and growled. With a smile that bore a striking resemblance to a grimace, she said, “Goodbye.”

“All right,” Danny said turning to walk away.

The peanut gallery burst into excited chatter. Once again the creepy guy had emerged from an encounter with Denise unharmed. Twice in one evening was a record of sorts.

“The creepy guy asked her to dance again.”

“He must be crazy.”

“What’s the matter with Denise?”

“She’s not acting like herself.”

“Do you remember when that guy from the chess club asked her out?”

“Who can forget that?”

“There was blood everywhere.”

“What’s Mrs. Shapiro doing?”

“She’s saying something to Denise.”

“Denise doesn’t look happy.”

Danny walked over to where Steve was sitting at a table with some of his football friends. Everyone had a date except for Steve. The whole table turned to look at Danny. He smiled.

Steve asked “What happened to Greg?”

“Who?”

“The guy who carried you out of here.”

“So that’s his name? He didn’t introduce himself.”

“So what happened to him?”

“He hit his funny bones.”

Raising an eyebrow, Steve asked, “Both of them?”

“Yes.”

Half the table grimaced at the thought of hitting their funny bone. That hurt.

“How hard?”

“Really hard. He should be all right in a while.”

“I guess we better go out and help him back in,” Steve said.

“Could you wait until after I ask Denise to dance a third time?”

The whole table, guys and gals, all stared at him. It was like a Martian had just showed up and asked if anyone was interested in having a spot of tea. He didn’t react.

“Are you crazy?”

“You asked Denise to dance?”

“You did that in front of Greg?”

“The creepy guy isn’t just creepy, he’s suicidal.”

“‘Don’t call Danny the creepy guy. He’s not creepy,” Steve said, “He’s not crazy or suicidal either. Mrs. Shapiro assigned him the task of asking Denise to dance three times tonight. It’s a test. He fails it if he doesn’t do it.”

“Let’s see – fail a test or die? I think I’d rather fail a test.”

Dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand, Danny said, “Hey. I only have to ask her one more time. She’ll say no and then I can go home.”

“Would you take a couple of steps?”

“Huh?”

“I want to hear those brass balls of yours clinking when you walk.”

“Very funny,” Danny said.

Steve asked, “What are you going to do if she says yes?”

“Like that’s going to happen,” one of the girls at the table said.

“Never in a million years.”

Looking worried, Danny said, “I didn’t plan for that possibility.”

“You better. Mrs. Shapiro just gave her an earful,” Steve said pointing across the room.

Looking across the room, Danny said, “That’s not good. I’ll be reciting King Lear while hopping up and down on one leg before this evening is through.”

Steve said, “Why don’t you ask her again while I take care of Greg?”

“Okay,” Danny said. “I’ll die if she says yes.”

While Danny walked across the room, one of the guys said, “Clink, clink, clink...”

“What are you doing?” his girlfriend asked.

‘Brass balls. Don’t you hear them clinking?”

By this time, half of the room was watching Danny walk across the room. Word about the creepy guy had spread quickly. No one ... absolutely no one ... asked Denise to do anything Denise didn’t want to do, particularly if the person asking was ... well ... a creepy guy.

There was only one couple on the dance floor when the next song started. That couple was Danny and Denise. The rest of the attendees were standing around watching them dance in a state of shock. Never had anyone ever thought that Denise would dance with the creepy guy. They were about halfway through the song before the comments started.

“He’s not a bad dancer.”

“He’s pretty good.”

“She’s gonna knee him in the nuts the second the music stops.”

“That’s a given.”

“I wouldn’t mind dancing with him.”

“He’s a creep. He’s always quoting dead guys.”

“He might be a creep, but he’s a good dancer.”

“I tell you, she’s gonna knee him in the nuts the second the music stops.”

“Stop stating the obvious.”

“The song is about to end.”

“Cool. He ended the dance with a dip.”

“She’s going for it ... Damn ... she missed.”

“She never misses.”

“She did this time.”

“He’s fast.”

“You’ve got to admit, the creepy guy is a good dancer.”

“How come you don’t dance with me like that?”

“Did anyone record this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, did anyone record this?”

Danny, making sure that he never faced Denise directly, escorted her back to her chair. She sat down and glared at him.