Part 6 (2/2)
”About what?”
”About anything. Everything is simple and . . . and I don't have to think about things all the time.”
”Do you love Tommy?”
”I guess so, I'm not sure. But I can't be with him.”
”Too much pressure?”
”Yes.”
”Pressure to dance?”
”Pressure about everything.”
”Maybe you should move to San Francisco,” I said.
”Huh?”
”Private humor,” I said. ”You don't seem happy.”
She shrugged.
”On the other hand, I wasn't hired to make you happy. I was hired to find you and rescue you. But you don't seem to need to be rescued.”
She s.h.i.+fted in her chair. She looked at Owens and the deacons. Her hands still rested, folded, on the table before her.
”Where are you living?”
”Will you tell Tommy?”
”No.”
”Salisbury.”
”In the branch church on Route One?” She nodded.
”Between the roadhouse and the salvage yard?”
She nodded again.
Owens and the deacons sat silently watching us across the room. All five men had their arms folded. Uniformity.
”I might come visit you now and then, Sherry. Not to ha.s.sle you. Just to visit. See if you need anything.”
She nodded.
”You won't mind?” I said.
”No.”
”Okay. You may as well rejoin your party.” We stood. Sherry walked quickly back to Owens and the deacons. I went too.
”She says she wants to stay,” I said to Owens. ”I believe her.”
”I should hope so,” Owens said. The deacons all sat poised, like I might kick one of them at any moment.
”I told her I'd come visit occasionally. She said that was all right.”
Owens didn't say anything.
”If I come to visit and don't find her, I'll start looking again. And I'll be really mad.” I couldn't watch all four deacons at the same time. The one I was watching didn't blanch.
Owens said, ”Let's go,” and they got up and left. Owens and the Deacons. Actually Sherry and the Deacons sounded even better than Owens and the Deacons. I went out to the parking lot to find my car.
Sherry and the Deacons. Do-wop!
CHAPTER 16.
I sat with Tommy Banks on the only two chairs in his studio, in a corner, near a window that looked out onto Huntington Avenue, in case anyone wanted to. We sipped coffee from paper cups. On the other side of the studio the dance company took a break. I had already begun to realize that dancers almost always moved and made little step motions even as they rested. It was as if they were always hearing music, always carving shapes in s.p.a.ce.
”She says she wants to stay where she is, Tommy,” I said.
”Of course she does, they've brainwashed her.”
”No. I don't think so. She says she wasn't kidnapped, and that she's free to leave.” Banks's hands were clasped in front of him, forearms on the knees. His knuckles were white.
”They've made her say that. They took her and brainwashed her. I was there, they came and took her and tied and gagged her and dragged her away in the trunk of their car.”
Across the room a complex short rattle sounded as someone did a tap step, someone laughed. I kept watching Banks.
”Do you know where she is?” he said.
”Yes.”
”We've got to get her out of there. I'll go with you, we'll rescue her.”
”Tommy, I don't think she's a prisoner. She has a right to stay there if she wants to be there.”
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