Dancing with Jesus
Dancing with Jesus
Van Nuys.
She hated the words.
They meant nothing.
She cried the first day and was left alone.
Except for prayer time.
It seemed like the bells were always ringing.
The room was small, yet longer than
her bedroom in El Paso.
She put her hand out the window
but Ranger didn’t lick it or breathe
into her cupped hand.
She was on the second floor.
Someone had a left a white flower in a vase on her dresser.
The Mistress brought her dinner
and nodded quietly
when she said she wanted to go home.
To Alfredo, who had been on his way to propose.
That is the only thing I would let you go for,
he had said.
They had danced the Saturday before
and she could feel his arm around her.
Was that love?
She fell asleep in the unfamiliar,
stiff bed, sheets starched taut,
the stirring of winds pushed from far away
breathing in on her like a giant ghost.
In her dream a man came up to her
after work while she sat on the dock,
her last day there.
She jumped down to walk away
but he smiled and held up his hand for her.
She blushed and walked to him.
She swirled and there he was.
His boots were like
a mirror,
his eyes like a lake.
They danced and danced until
she heard her father’s voice,
looked away and he was gone.
She woke to someone gently shaking her.
It was still dark.
She thought she smelled smoke.
She heard sirens in the distance.
It is the Santa Anas.
We must serve.
Said the Aspirant.
She dressed quickly
and ran down to Prayers
which were hurried.
Young women got on a bus
and were passed out warm rolls to eat.
She still felt him and smiled.
The Mistress stood and said-
This is what we do.
The Valley is on fire
and we will care for the people.
We serve.
Mistress Clara looked right at her.
Did she know about my dream?
Should I have dreamt about
dancing with Our Lord?
She blushed again and looked out
at smoke and ash
and the desperate, scurrying people.
She fed the people
who were tired and beaten.
The fires were still in their eyes.
She smiled at them and they smiled.
Sisters worked serving the food
and passing blankets and arranging cots.
Someday I will dress like them.
Not like this, like a girl.
Carrying diapers to a young mother
she thought of the dance.
Elvis? A Waltz?
It seemed like both.
She hummed the music.
She saw his face.
It was- a face.
She saw what he saw.
A great wind-swept desert.
The young mother smiled,
The baby cried.
The fires flickered in the window panes.
She held the baby.
The mother closed her tearing eyes.
She knew her place.
It was right here,
here beneath the Great Basin
in the canyons of greatest need.
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