Family Dancing by David Leavitt

Author:David Leavitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-05-02T04:00:00+00:00

They go to Carvel’s for ice cream. Ahead of them in line a flustered-looking woman buys cones for ten black children who stand in pairs, holding hands. Two of the girls are pulling violently at each other’s arms, while a boy whose spiral of soft-serve ice cream has fallen off his cone cries loudly, and demands reparations. Allen orders two chocolate cones with brown bonnets, and he and Danny sit down in chairs with tiny desks attached to them, like the chairs in Danny’s elementary school. There are red lines from tears on Danny’s face, but he doesn’t really cry—at least, he doesn’t make any of the crying noises, the heaves and stuttering wails. He picks off the chocolate coating of the brown bonnet and eats it in pieces before even touching the actual ice cream.

“I’m glad you haven’t lost your appetite,” Allen says.

Danny nods weakly, and continues to eat. The woman marches the ten children out the door, and into a small pink van. “Danny,” Allen says, “what can I say? What do you want me to say?”

Danny bites off the bottom of his cone. Half-melted ice cream plops onto the little desk. “Jesus Christ,” Allen mutters, and rubs his eyes.

When they get back to the house, Allen joins Nick and Carol under the umbrella on the patio. Elaine is still lying on the chaise, her eyes closed. Danny gets out of the car after his father, walks a circle around the pool, biting his thumbnail, and resumes his position on the diving board. Nearby, Greg and Jeff are again playing catch. “Hey, Danny, want to throw the ball?” Allen shouts. He does not hear Carol hiss her warning, “No!” But Danny neither does nor says anything.

“Danny!” Allen shouts again. “Can you hear me?”

Very slowly Danny hoists himself up, crawls off the diving board and walks back toward the house.

“Oh, Christ,” Carol says, taking off her sunglasses. “This is more than I can take.”

Now Belle appears at the kitchen door, waving a batter-caked spatula. “What happened?” she asks.

“The same story,” Carol says.

“I’ll see to him,” Allen says. He casts a parting glance at Elaine, and walks into the kitchen. “The same thing happened this morning,” Belle tells him as they walk toward Danny’s room.

But this time, the door is wide open, instead of slammed shut, and Danny is lying on his back on the bed, his face blank, his eyes tearless.

At first Belle thinks he is sick. “Honey, are you all right?” she asks, feeling his head. “He’s cool,” she tells Allen.

Allen sits down on the bed and arcs his arms over Danny’s stomach. “Danny, what’s wrong?” he asks.

Danny turns to look at his father, his face full of a pain too strong for a child to mimic.

“I can’t change,” he says. “I can’t change. I can’t change.”

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