Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: EMBARRASS(ED) (11/03/16)
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TITLE: One, Two, Cha Cha Cha | Previous Challenge Entry
By Pamela Hill
11/09/16 -
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“Invite them all over and I’ll give them a Cha Cha lesson in the backyard by the pool.”
Was I hearing things? Had I entered The Twilight Zone? Did my Father really just say that? MY Father?
I don’t like my father much. He doesn’t give me any indication that the feeling isn’t mutual. That’s why when he came up with the idea to teach a dance lesson to my Scout Troop, I foolishly assumed the world had turned itself upright and something good was about to happen. To me!
My father works two jobs. During the day, he wears a suit and does something at a bank. I don’t know what. After dinner, he goes to the Arthur Murray dance studio and teaches people to dance. On those nights I’m in bed before he comes home.
When he doesn’t go to his second job he stays home and drinks. Those are the nights we don’t lay in front of the television and laugh with my mother at the Smothers Brothers, or see what kind of “really big shew” Ed Sullivan is going to dazzle us with or watch our mother swoon as Andy Williams croons. Those are the nights we leave our poor mom on her own and disappear to our rooms.
On the Saturday before our dance lesson, dad shows up with a purchase meant to “save us a whole bunch of money.” He puts a refrigerated beer tap on our back patio saying, “Now we won’t have to pay by the bottle or can, and it will be great for parties.” There was never any money whenever I asked for something, and now I knew why. We had been paying by the bottle and can. I was glad there would now be more money for things.
Monday and Tuesday were the two longest school days of the year, but finally, it was time for everyone to come to my house for our dance lesson. I got home and dad was already in the backyard. He had the music going and was dancing the Cha Cha. I’ve never seen my father dance before. I’m surprised that he looks like a movie star in one of the musicals I’ve seen. But I don’t tell him that. Maybe I should, maybe it would change things between us.
I watch, mesmerized. How does he dance like that without spilling a drop from the glass in his hand?
At long last, the troop arrives and he wastes no time. He lines us up in a straight row across the patio and stands in front of us. The music is still playing and he starts dancing the Cha Cha. “See how it’s done girls, this is a really easy dance, anyone can do it. One, two, cha cha cha.”
As he continues to dance he encourages us to hear the beat of the music and step in place.
One, two, cha cha cha. Even though we’re trying he starts yelling, “hear the beat, step in place.” While we’re straining to hear the beat and attempting to step in place, he goes to the tap for a refill.
Now, watching us, he laughs. “One, two, come on girls. What are you, a bunch of retards?” Then, shaking his head, he shouts, “One, two, cha cha cha. Any moron can do it.”
Some of the girls start crying. I guess they’re not used to someone that talks mean to them like my father does. He talks mean to everybody, but they don’t know that because. . . NOW I remember… THIS is why I never invite anyone to my house!
Reaching out he takes the hand of a girl in the line and pulls her toward him, dancing the whole time. “Come on honey, just follow me, do what I do.” He’s still dancing, sipping, and not spilling a drop. She stands frozen, staring at him, with fear in her eyes. “What’s the matter with you? I said DANCE!” She turns and runs over to the corner where the cryers are huddled.
Stupid! Stupid! STUPID! That’s me!
Running into the house, I pass my mother on the way to my room and inform her, “Now we have to move.”
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Just wanted to write and let you know how much I enjoyed your piece.
I could empathise with your sense of embarrassment at your father's insensitivity.
Thank you for sharing your experience.
I could feel the pain and humiliation of the MC. Well done!
Me too Bea, this is non-fiction and I would have loved if it had ended differently.