Page 96 - Some Dance to Remember

66 Jack Fritscher

“You’re hurting me. I want to hurt you. I want you to tell me you
love me.”
“I want you to move out. I mean it this time. Let go of me, and, god-
dam it, move out!”
Teddy held Ryan out at arm’s length with one hand on his throat. As
hard as he could, with his other hand, he slapped Ryan across the face.
The blow spun Ryan free. He ran to the front door, escaping from his
own house. “Move! Goddam it! Whatever was left between us you finally
shattered. Nobody’s ever hit me before.”
“That’s a miracle.” Teddy was coming toward him down the long hall,
slowly at first.
“I won’t be your abused lover.” Ryan was backing out the open door.
“I don’t come from a family that hits each other.”
“Your family’s a laugh,” Teddy shouted. He was approaching faster.
Ryan went for Teddy’s jugular. “Your father beats your mother!”
Teddy broke into a run coming for Ryan’s throat. Ryan stooped down,
and with all his might, pulled a hard yank on the long oriental runner
exactly at the moment when Teddy’s feet hung in midair gallop. His next
step came down on the fast-sliding rug and he sprawled screaming across
the waxed hardwood of the hallway. Ryan dashed down the porch steps to
the safety of his VW Rabbit. He fumbled for the door key, but Teddy was
not chasing him. He had crawled to the front door and was lying across
the threshold broken like Stanley calling for Stella. “Ryan! Don’t go.” He
was crying. “Don’t go. Ryan! Ryan! Ryan! Don’t leave me.”
Ryan looked across the street to see if the gay-boy clone couple they
rarely spoke to was looking out from behind their Levolor blinds. They
weren’t. He shouted over the car roof back at Teddy. “I hate this. I hate
you.”
“I love you. I love you.”
“Move out!”
“Please. Please. Please. Please.”
“Omigod.” Ryan closed his eyes, but he could not close his ears. He
climbed into his pea-green Rabbit with the MANUVRS license plates
and peeled out from the curb. “Omigod,” he said, and he was crying.
“What have I done?”
He drove west to the beach, to the ocean. Waves of guilt washed over
him. “A man’s got to do, oh, chow yuk, what a man’s got to do.” The late
afternoon turned to a brilliant twilight. The sun disappeared out beyond
the far horizon. In the evening mix of dying sun and rising moon, two
ships, lit brilliantly, passed in the soft light, one heading safely into shore,

©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
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