* * *
Kate took a year of dance before I did. I was jealous of her mostly because she got a trophy at the end. The next year, I took a combo class of jazz, tap, and ballet. The trophy totally wasn't worth it as I recall.
Often when Kate danced, Ma and I would wait in the little side room with the other mothers for their child to finish the 45-minute-or-so class. It was like a walk-in closet jammed with chairs.
That day I had to sit on the floor next to Ma's chair which was closest to the door. From my spot, I could watch the younger dance class practice, which had a bunch of blonde girls and one poor boy who looked miserable. Ma was in the chair grading papers for her high school biology course... or maybe it was 7th grade science?! The other moms were quietly reading, staring into space, or messing with whatever.
Suddenly, Ma let out a strange, LOUD cackle! If you've ever heard my mom laugh, you know she can really let it fly. She has this giddy cackle that can be heard for miles! And that's exactly what she did that day.
The other mothers immediately froze. I nearly jumped out of my skin from fright. We all stared at her.
When she finally noticed the rest of us, Ma continued to laugh.
"I'm grading my class's test papers," she said.
Apparently, one of them was either really dumb or really sarcastic and had written something completely outrageous. At that point in my life, I probably didn't get a high school science problem or why someone's answer would be funny in comparison to that problem. Back then, all I wanted was to play; I hated school! Which would explain why I don't remember what my mom told the women that day. It was Greek to me!
The rest of the room laughed, maybe a few out of politeness because it went over their heads, too. Then, the "closet" returned to quiet until it was time to gather up the dancers for home.
* * *
I don't know why I remember this simple story so vividly. I'm not even sure Ma will remember what I'm talking about after she reads this post. I guess it's because that was one of the few times I saw my mom as the center of attention of a larger group of people, particularly women.
Growing up, Father and Ma never had any parties at the house or went out with a large group of people, leaving Kate and me with babysitters. If there was ever a group they socialized with, it was when their Bible study group at Cook's Presbyterian Church started reading the Bible chapter by chapter and supposedly grew closer. Suddenly, all they were talking about was what this chapter meant and what So-and-So and Jane were doing. Even then, I never saw those interactions; I merely heard about them secondhand. Ma never had cocktails with the other lady teachers on a Wednesday; Father never spent a night out of the week to skip family dinner to hang out with his work office in Charlotte at a sports bar. It wasn't because we couldn't afford it. They just didn't. It was one of those things that we all shrug at because that's just how it was.
I'll probably always remember that day of Kate's dance class, and I'll probably never figure out why I remember it. It's just one of those random memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment