The Book of Extraordinary Femme Fatale Stories by Maxim Jakubowski

Author:Maxim Jakubowski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mango Media
Published: 2022-07-20T00:00:00+00:00

The Dance of Love and Hunger

by Robert Lopresti

The first time I saw her was at a party on Treaty Street, over by the university. K.C.’s brother was working at Hale’s Ales, and he would tell us whenever somebody ordered a keg. We knew if that much beer was flowing near the school, we could probably crash the scene.

This was a big one. Four or five kids were living in the house, and they must have invited everybody they knew. There were nearly fifty people, so slipping in was no sweat.

I had a couple of beers and went looking for K.C. but he was already talking to a redhead in a tight blue dress. I don’t know how he does it.

I headed toward the dining room, hoping for something to eat. The speakers were blasting Kings of Leon, but a guy with pink hair turned it off. “Show’s starting in the back,” he yelled, and people headed outside.

I didn’t know what kind of show it was, but I followed the crowd.

In the middle of the backyard someone had laid down strips of yellow tape and made a sort of a circle, maybe ten feet across. Everybody gathered around it and the folks in front sat on the ground.

There were two people in the circle. One was a dude with long blond dreadlocks. He sat cross-legged on the grass, playing a tabla. The other was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

She was a head and a half shorter than me, maybe five foot six. She had black hair that went past her waist and a bright green blouse and a white skirt that almost reached her bare feet.

Nobody in Broughton looks like that.

“This is the Song of the Gray Ghost,” she said. She had an amazing smoky voice, but she didn’t sing. Instead, she raised her hands and I saw that she was holding a violin and a bow. The drummer played a beat, and she closed her eyes and played.

I couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to, because it would take energy I needed to watch and to listen.

Nobody tried to dance to the music. Nobody except her. She swayed and flowed like water down a brook. The audience just stared at her like I did, like we were all hypnotized.

She played for nearly an hour, only stopping for applause and to announce the next tune. “The Way of the Sinner.” “The Fire Hymn.”

I didn’t know what any of the names meant, but I remember them all. They all sounded wild and amazing and strange, just like her music.

Just like her.

When she stopped, everybody was dripping sweat like it was August instead of October. The crowd went crazy, and everybody rushed up to congratulate her.

I just stood there.

“She’s something, huh?” said K.C.

“Who is she?”

“A music student at the university, believe it or not. Calls herself Wren. Drummer is Larry somebody.”

“Are they together?”

K.C. did a double take. “I’ll be damned, Hugh. You hot for Wren?”

I went red. Some girls like me ’cause I’m big and strong, so it’s not like I’m a virgin, but they find me.

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