Ben nodded vigorously then he frowned. “Taking your dancing away is as cruel as stealing a bird’s ability to fly. Your moves are… magic!” he gushed in wonder.
A joyous smile flashed across her face and Ben couldn’t stop his own smile from erupting across his own.
“We will dance every day, you and I, as I have much to teach you. You follow my steps naturally but soon you will learn to lead. You must be ready to work hard when you get home after school,” she said fixing her stare on him and he nodded quickly. She looked at the floor. “We must get rid of that awful carpet. Carrying it out every day is not practical.”
She thought for a minute then walked into the kitchen. He followed her in and saw her pick up the coffee urn which still had the dregs at the bottom. He watched in confusion as she walked outside with it and stood by the carpet Ben had draped over their picnic table. He cried out in shock when she poured the coffee onto the carpet. Walter was going to be angry but she looked at Ben with both fear and rebellious joy warring in her expression.
Ben shuddered as he recalled the bruising on her arms and cheek the next day. But the carpet was gone. It was replaced with a cheap area rug which was much easier to roll up and stow out of the way. He got a lot of exercise over the following months, from carefully moving the furniture out of the living room and back afterwards as well as the dancing.
His muscles grew and hardened.
At the same time his love for the woman grew and filled his world. He was enraptured when she danced for him. Just when he thought he’d seen, and learned, the most gloriously graceful dance moves possible she would give him a coy smile and show him something new. The repertoire seemed endless! While she encouraged him strongly to excel in his lessons at school she was opening his eyes to entire worlds filled with different kinds of dance and music.
While Ben was falling in love with Margaret, she never kissed him and never touched him sexually. The dancing though, it was the most intimate connection Ben had ever made with another human being and he came to crave it.
Their daily practice was put in jeopardy when the Cosburns were asked to take in a second boy, Richard Fenn. Walter was becoming suspicious of how close his wife was becoming with Ben and agreed to accept Richard as he felt a second boy in the house would keep his wife busy and split her time between them.
Ben quickly discovered Richard had a craving of his own. Fire. He’d been moved from his last home because he’d set a fire in the foster parent’s bedroom. Ben immediately confiscated Richard’s stash of matches and the lighter he kept in his pocket. Richard tried to stop him but Ben was much stronger than the ten year old. He didn’t beat up the younger boy but he did sit on him and search his pockets.
To ensure the house was safe Ben informed Margaret of Richard’s compulsion which had been omitted from his report. They set out to eliminate all sources of fire Richard might use in the house.
Walter walked in while they were digging through the kitchen cabinets looking for stray books of matches. They had a small tin on the counter they were going to keep them in. They froze as he glared at them.
“What the fuck are you two doing with the matches?” he growled low in his chest.
Ben smelled the liquor and realized Walter had been drinking. He had to avoid saying the wrong thing, which could be almost anything. He didn’t dare look at Margaret. “Just making sure we put them in a safe place,” he said cautiously.
Walters bloodshot eyes passed between the two of them then he frowned. “Where’s the new kid?”
“He’s upstairs,” Margaret said.
“Why isn’t he helping collect them?” Walter asked.
The question threw Ben as he didn’t know Walter didn’t like seeing them together. He was so rattled his response came out before he thought it through. “Richard isn’t allowed to have matches.”
Once Ben heard his words his face dropped as Walter’s suspicion became anger.
“The little fucker’s a fire bug?!? I’m stopping that right now!” Walter spun to leave the kitchen.
Margaret started to speak but Walter shot an angry look at her and pointed his big thick finger at her. Her voice died in her throat.
Ben felt sick as he was the reason Richard was going to be beaten. He raced after Walter and leapt in front of the man as he towered over the small boy.
“Please Mr. Cosburn! He’s just a kid! He won’t do anything! You don’t have to do this!” Ben begged.
Walter didn’t like Ben. He was getting too smart for his own good. He was right about one thing though. Richard was very small. One hit might kill the boy. Ben looked like he was made of much sturdier stuff.
“He needs to see what will happen to him if I catch him playing with fire in MY HOUSE!” Walter growled with an evil grin.
That night Ben got his first beating from the big machinist. Walter hit him with his big fists instead of Richard as the smaller boy watched in horror. The punches only stopped landing when Ben finally could no longer raise his arms to protect himself.
Richard listened to Ben moan in their shared bedroom for hours until exhaustion took them both out.
From that day on Richard was Ben’s constant companion. Once his bruises healed enough to let him move freely Ben sat Richard down and told him he owed Ben one favor for taking that beating. His silence regarding the dancing lessons Ben was getting after school. Richard watched them dance when they got home and Ben helped him with his homework afterwards. Life returned to normal and settled into a comfortable pattern.
His secret desire was to protect Margaret so Ben began working out at school and his muscles continued to get larger and harder. Luckily this didn’t affect his dancing except to improve his stamina.
Margaret blossomed now that she was able to truly express herself and she’d found a partner who could keep up with her and was beginning to match her grace of movement.
Ben began to anticipate her moves when they moved to the music. Each time he did, a blissful elation would shine from her eyes, filling Ben’s heart with the purest love he’d ever experienced.
When Walter was home Margaret remained vigilant to hide her happiness as he was becoming suspicious once more.
Margaret had a special treat for Ben one day when he and Richard got home. The younger boy had a lot of homework so he went up to their room to start.
After he moved the furniture and rolled the carpet up and tucked it out of the way she put on a new record. She had a lot of old records but Ben had never heard this one before.
The smooth voice of Nat King Cole began singing ‘When I Fall in Love” and he looked into Margaret’s eyes as she smiled lovingly into his.
“This is our song and it always will be,” she said as she guided him out onto the floor. There was a roaring in his ears as they glided effortlessly around the room, swaying and dipping to the song as the lyrics etched themselves deeply into Ben’s mind. This was their song.
Outside, parked across the street, Walter sat in his car smoking with the windows down in the late afternoon heat. He watched the couple pass by the gap in the curtains. They were dancing. He could just make out the song playing and his knuckles went white as he squeezed the steering wheel with his big hands. He started the car and slowly pulled away from the curb. He needed a drink.
The next morning Ben and Richard got ready for school while Margaret paced nervously in the kitchen. Walter hadn’t come home last night and he hadn’t called. Finally they had to leave or they’d be late for school. Ben touched her arm and she almost turned to embrace him but stopped herself. She nodded and shooed him out with a brittle smile.
School was tough for Ben as he couldn’t concentrate. Just before the final bell for the day Ben was called down to the principal’s office. When he got there he found Richard was already there. He had a black eye.
“What happened?” Ben exclaimed.
“What does it look like? Richard got into a fight!” the principal barked.
Ben looked at the man like he’d grown horns.
“What?” the man growled belligerently.
“Richard isn’t a fighter. Someone obviously hit him but he’d never start a fight,” Ben tried to explain but the sour look on the man’s face said his words were falling on deaf ears.