Chapter 5: Hitting the dance floor

We ate and ate at a hot dog stand,
We danced around to a rockin' band —

Tara quickly regained her trim. Though young, she was already a veteran of such bouts. But Johnny guessed she could still use a respite, although he knew she wouldn't say so. He guided her, subtly he hoped, down a cul d'sac at the southwest corner of the park's acreage. To show her a secret entrance to the grounds. The park's longtime owner was in his late seventies now, and in poor health. (Partly the reason for tonight's closure.) He was a famously kind man who loved children, although he never had any of his own. Early on in his tenure, his groundskeepers reported a gap in the fencing that local schoolkids were slipping through. He told his staff to let it be. He had grown up in poverty, in Czarist Russia, and wanted any child who couldn't afford the gate admittance to be able to visit anyway.

Tara was surprisingly touched by the story. She even stepped through the gap, and back again – probably the final person in history to do so – to share the experience of so many excited youngsters over so many years, sneaking into Paradise. Everyone's dream, she reflected. Then, on an odd impulse, she reached into her shoulder bag. She sorted past her personal items, passport, U.S. currency, and Beretta, and extracted a certain jeweled brooch she had found at a curio shop in April. On Easter morning it was, in fact. She'd felt it meant something important, at the time... yet rarely wore it. But she pinned it on, now.

They stopped at a hot dog stand for one more Coney apiece, "to keep our strength up." (Johnny had a explanation for everything.) Then they meandered down the south loop, past the Dodge-em cars, and Swiss bobsleds, and the Batman Slide. The tall structure he had eyed earlier, still loomed in the distance – ready and waiting.

As the sun was setting, she and Johnny finally ducked into the Music Pavilion, which they had passed by twice already. Live acts would be onstage that night, but for now a DJ was spinning records. There was quite a crowd nevertheless, both at the tables and on the floor, while the Top 40 songs rocked forth. When Johnny and Tara walked in, the last verse of Freddy Cannon's anthem was just fading out. Tara sighed. "Thank goodness. I think we heard that 10 times just walking around."

"Plus my acapella versions," Johnny added cheerily. "But you're in luck! Since it's the last day, they'll only play it 200 times more." They slid into an empty booth, and watched the dancers while Three Dog Night's own anthem, Joy to the World, shook the speakers. Followed by Tom Jones, the Jackson 5, and to Tara's particular delight, Middle of the Road. Then sure enough, by popular demand (as the DJ put it), the familiar calliope intro played yet again. "Last night I took a walk in the dark..."

Johnny got up, and stood in front of Tara, with his arms open wide, and his smile wider.

"No, that is not going to happen. Absolutely not. No dancing on duty."

"All right," Johnny said. "I'll just have to wander off, and find somebody else. But it's a small park. I'm sure we'll bump into each other later..." He turned away, and took a step.

"Johnny...!"

He turned back and, with a gentler smile, extended just his right hand this time, towards her own. And they moved into the throng.

With her natural grace, and "field experience" in London's club scene, Tara handled the rock 'n roll rhythms with ease. Most of the dancers did little more than shuffle from foot to foot, and herky-jerk their hands. Tara instinctively merged her feet, legs, hips, shoulders, arms, and hands, into a smooth flow. Her body a sensuous river in motion, while her head was still. Holding eye contact... a devastating eye contact... with her partner.

Johnny was not a pro, but still held his own. About halfway through the song, he asserted himself to take her hand – and, in the nostalgic spirit of this closing day, spun and twirled her in late 50's style. And quite deftly, Tara noted, as she synched her steps with his.

As the final verse began, he grasped her waist with both hands. Tara leaned back, relinquished control, and entrusted herself to him, as he lifted her from the floor. (At a comely 5'9, she was impressed again.) She was ready for a down swoop; ready to swing her legs past him. But instead he simply held her aloft, steady as a rock; and gazed up at her for a long moment. Tara looked down, into his eyes; and he slowly lowered her to the floor, as the final notes faded away.

As her feet touched down, their faces were inches apart. Johnny's arms, or maybe Tara's hands on his shoulders, drew them an inch nearer. And nearer yet.

The throng faded from awareness. Her eyes gently closed; her head tipped slightly. Her lips began to part. Then her eyes suddenly snapped open. She splayed her fingers against his lapels, and said haltingly, "M-music is over."

Johnny sighed. "Yeah. Only 199 left to go."

They stayed in the Pavilion, and split a Jersey plate – burger, fries, and onion rings – at a ringside table... and on the house. "Compliments of Emilio, for the last day," said the beaming waitress, referring to the manager ("Friend of dad's," explained Johnny.) They dawdled afterwards over root beer floats, and spoke comfortably, and more intimately, about their disparate lives "across the pond." Later on Johnny took the stage to introduce a young local he knew, named Bruce Springsteen, who was filling in for a no-show. It was well after dark when they returned to the midway.

They spent the rest of the evening strolling the grounds, enjoying the happy crowds, and excited children, and the "last night of Mardi Gras" atmosphere. Johnny was keen on seeing the farewell fireworks at midnight, so they would have to stay for that. Meanwhile Tara checked in with New York about 11:00, and all was well there. Watney, contrary to all expectations, had done an excellent job with the clean-up. She would indeed commend him to Mother, as promised, and see if she could get him un-Special-Assigned back to London.

Coming next (and last)...

CHAPTER 6: Midnight ride