Free The Puzzle King by Betsy Carter Page B

on my face.”
    Seema led Flora down the back hall past the Whites’ hulking mahogany furniture and wood-paneled rooms with Tiffany windows and Persian rugs on the floor. As Seema pushed the door open, Lulu ran past the two of them and jumped on the narrow cot that was pushed up against the corner of the small, sweltering room. “This is the only room where she gets to be on the furniture. The Whites are very strict about that,” said Seema, pushing Lulu to the foot of the bed and placing Flora’s suitcases atop her linen sheet.
    Seema closed the door and the air inside the room became even more still and clammy. “I have a surprise for you,” she said, turning to Flora. Maybe it was the way she’d lowered her voice toa whisper that made Lulu sit up on her hind legs and widen her liquid black eyes. Both dog and sister leaned toward Seema as she revealed her secret. “We’re going to a dance tonight. It’s at the New Irving Dance Hall on the Lower East Side. The other girls who work here go every week. I’ve never been, but I’ve decided it’s time we go.”
    “A dance?”
    “Shh,” cautioned Seema. “Keep quiet.”
    “Why? No one’s here.”
    “Just in case. Aunt Hannah and Uncle Paul would be so displeased if they knew I took you to a dance. Or to the Lower East Side. It’s not really a place for people like us.”
    F LORA NOTICED HOW Seema’s face changed as they walked into the New Irving Dance Hall. The eyes of every boy in that hall were on her, pleading and caressing. Seema glanced at all of them, settling on none of them. Flora wondered was it her imagination or was Seema swaying in a way she had never seen before, as if she were balancing a large package on one hip, then the other. Her mouth melted into a hint of a smile. She must have realized the effect she was having, but she just tossed her hair and kept walking. Seamless indeed.
    Flora followed in her wake, feeling that each of her steps was landing with a thud. Why had she agreed to come here in the first place? Unlike Seema, who had the air of someone who’d spent her whole life going to dances, Flora had no idea how to act in a place like this.
    She followed Seema to the corner of the room, where the rest of the girls were lined up, whispering as they studied the boys standing at the other side of the room. The room was so largeand crowded with people that it was impossible to see from one end to the other. The girls wore their best dresses and fancy bows in their hair. Some boys wore knickers, others long pants. Everyone’s face was scrubbed. Only the ground was filthy with peanut shells, spilled beer, and globs of spit. Flora had to sidestep a cockroach, and her shoes stuck to the floor. Best to look up, she thought. Besides, she didn’t want to miss a thing.
    In the center of the room stood a man in baggy trousers holding a silver triangle in his hand. “Okay, all of you Romeos, shut up for a minute and listen to me,” he shouted.
    The man had one of those accents that Uncle Paul liked to mimic. “Shaddup ya little creeps,” he’d say, talking as if he had a cigar dangling from the side of his mouth. Only this man wasn’t pretending. “So here’s how it goes. When I ring the bell, the gentlemen will go over to the other side of the room and ask one of these fine ladies to dance. And ladies, if any of these gentlemen don’t suit your taste, just give ’em the brush off. Remember, this ain’t no barnyard, so be polite. And no running. Ready?”
    He hit the silver triangle with a metal beater. The pings were still reverberating in the air as at least eight boys lined up in front of Seema. Most of the others lagged behind and only a handful stood at the feet of girls they knew, sisters or cousins or girls who had caught their eye earlier. Flora watched her sister scrutinize her admirers the same way she’d seen Aunt Hannah squint her eyes and examine the chickens that hung at the butcher’s. Seema looked away, her mouth