Don't Stand So Close to Me Page 6

  Even now, Isaac was Isaac.

  “If it helps, I could try to speak in an English accent,” I suggested.

  “Pip! Pip! Just get on with it,” he replied. “Why are we here?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the spring dance,” I said.

  “What’s there to talk about?” Isaac asked.

  “I want to discuss planning it,” I said.

  “You really need to pay more attention, Quinny. There’s this thing they call a pandemic, and school has been canceled,” Isaac said.

  “Would you like to keep talking, or would you like me to explain?”

  “I think explaining would be good,” Reese said.

  “Yeah, I’d like to hear what Quinn is getting at,” Jenna added.

  “It is going to mean a lot of work for us,” I warned.

  “I can do work, and believe me, I have time,” Isaac said. “Let’s hear your plan.”

  “It’s more the start of my plan,” I said.

  “Just tell us, Quinn!” said Reese.

  In a quick burst I gave them my idea.

  “What do you think?” I asked. Every one of them was smiling.

  “I’m in,” Reese said.

  “This could work,” said Jenna. “Where do we start?”

  “We need to get Miss Fernandez on board.”

  “And it wouldn’t hurt to consult my mom,” Isaac said. “We probably need her support.”

  “What about your dad, Quinn?” Reese asked. “It couldn’t hurt to have a doctor sign off on it.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to Dad tonight. Isaac, see what your mom says.”

  “And how about we set up a Zoom conference with Miss Fernandez for later today?” Jenna suggested.

  “Good. We have a plan. Now let’s see if we can have a dance.”

  It had taken three days to put it all together, get our parents to agree and convince Miss Fernandez to support us. Then we’d had to present the whole plan to Mrs. Reynolds to take to the board. Now we were all waiting for Mrs. Reynolds to join the Zoom conversation and let us know if we had permission to proceed. My mother and I were staring at my screen in the kitchen. My father was joining us from the hospital, Isaac was at his house, his mother was at the police station, Jenna was with her parents, and Reese was with hers. Miss Fernandez was the moderator. She had all the microphones unmuted, and there were multiple conversations going on. It seemed to me the parents were enjoying talking to one another even more than we kids were.

  Mrs. Reynolds finally joined the session. Everybody greeted her, and then Miss Fernandez muted all the microphones except for hers and the principal’s.

  “Mrs. Reynolds, we’re glad you can be here today. We’re all waiting for your news.”

  “As you know, I brought your plan to the board,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “I shared all the very thoughtful details you kids had carefully laid out. I explained that you had the support of your class, your teachers and your parents. I also told them that I, as the principal, supported your plan.”

  This was going to happen! It was going to happen!

  “So I am very sorry to inform you they turned down your request.”

  My mother groaned, and I felt my heart sink. Little electronic hands popped up from my father and from Isaac’s mother.

  “They said that since the school is closed, there could not be a board-sanctioned dance.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Miss Fernandez said. “I’m disappointed, and I know the students must be even more disappointed.”

  “However,” Mrs. Reynolds said, “that doesn’t mean you can’t go ahead with your plan.”

  “What does she mean?” my mother asked me.

  I shrugged. But we were about to get our answer.

  “You cannot have a school dance. But there’s nothing stopping you from organizing a community event. I’m going to leave that to you to decide.” She paused. “I wish you all well.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stood on the road, and Isaac stood on his driveway. At my feet were the tally marks. There were 47 marks for 47 days.

  “Looking pretty sharp, Quinny.”

  “Thank you.”

  I was in the red satin dress I had picked out ages ago. I had on low heels and a bit of makeup, and my mother had helped me with my hair.

  “No comment about how good I look?” Isaac asked.

  Isaac was in a shirt, tie and a jacket that was way too big. To complete his outfit, he wore bright red skateboarding shoes and matching red, baggy shorts. He had joked that this was “semi-formal done by Isaac.”

  “You look very handsome,” I replied.

  “I was going for stunning.”

  “Do you think anyone is even going to come?” I asked.

  “What do you mean? There’s already two of us. And Reese and Jenna will be here for sure.”

  “Well, because the school didn’t agree to it, I’m not sure Jenna’s parents are going to let her come.”

  “Okay, then three of us at least. Which means you can only expect every second dance with me. Don’t be jealous.” He paused. “I’m just kidding, Quinny. Don’t worry. This is going to work.”

  I caught sight of flashing lights. Two police cars had pulled in so that together they blocked off the street at one end. I turned around in time to see more flashing lights. It was a third police car and an ambulance. They formed a barricade at the other end of the block.

  “Why an ambulance?” I asked.

  “Just the thing they do at parades and soccer games—you know, big public gatherings.”

  “So far not so big.”

  “There’ll be more people,” Isaac said. “Who would want to miss seeing all this?”

  “It is pretty amazing.”

  Up and down the whole length of the block were boxes drawn on the street with chalk. Each box was ten feet by ten feet and was separated from the next one by six feet. There were two rows, with a six-foot strip between them. Each box was numbered, from 1 to 100. One hundred boxes for 100 guests, drawn so each person would remain at a safe distance from everybody else. It had taken us almost a full day to measure and mark them all off.

  Isaac’s mother came out of their house. She was in full uniform and carrying a police bullhorn.

  “It’s good to see my officers have arrived,” she said. “You two look very nice.”

  “I think we’ve agreed that we’re both stunning.”

  “Thank you for getting us permission to do this, Ms. Peters. And for agreeing to be one of the chaperones,” I said.

  “I think you kids need this. Maybe all of us do. Oh, look. Your first guests are arriving.”

  At the end of the street a couple of cars had pulled up. A kid got out of each. As the parents drove away, the kids were both let onto the street by the officers.

  From this distance I couldn’t tell who they were. The guy was in a suit, and the girl was in a formal, fancy, sparkly party dress—it was Jenna! The mask she was wearing had big red lips painted on it. Noah’s mask had a big, burly mustache.

  “Your parents let you come!” I exclaimed to Jenna as Isaac greeted Noah.

  People had started to come out of their houses. They were setting up lawn chairs and sitting down on the edge of their properties. Every family on the street knew what we were doing. We had invited them to come out and listen and watch and cheer—their presence would just add to the atmosphere.

  Cars kept pulling up at both ends of the street to drop off kids, and more and more of our classmates appeared. Some came by themselves, on bikes or on foot. As each person arrived, they went to their assigned spot. We had sent everybody an email telling them what they needed to know. They each knew their number and that they had to go to that square and stay apart from others. We had also made it clear that there would be no second chance for anybody who didn’t respect physical distancing. Isaac’s mom had insisted on that. Violating the rule meant being sent home. Each person had brought a backpack containing their supp
lies for the night—snacks, a water bottle or two, a set of earbuds and a phone.

  A little cheer went up, and I turned to see Miss Fernandez arriving. She waved to people as she walked down the center strip and to her assigned square. Like everyone else, she was wearing a homemade mask. And her dress was fancy! She looked like she was ready to party, but she was also one of our chaperones, along with Isaac’s mom and both of Reese’s parents. It was good to have the police chief and teachers around to keep everybody in line. More and more people kept arriving.

  “I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Isaac said. “Almost everybody is here.”

  “Which means it’s time to stop watching and start taking charge,” Isaac’s mother said. She tried to hand the bullhorn to Isaac.

  “Quinn’s in charge. Give it to her.”

  “It’s been sanitized,” she said as she put it on the ground.

  I picked it up with my gloved hand.

  “Just push the button and speak.”

  I brought it up to my lips. “Good evening, everybody!” My words echoed off the houses. I was surprised by how loud my voice was. “Welcome to the Chambers Avenue party! We’re so glad you’re all here. Thank you for finding your square. We’re going to wait a few more minutes for any stragglers to arrive, and then we’ll get started.”

  A gigantic cheer went up.

  The first lights came on at the house three doors down. Red and green Christmas lights. Then the house beside it lit up, and then a third and fourth house partway down the block. We’d asked people who lived on the street if they could do that. Many neighbors had. It all looked so beautiful!

  I turned to Isaac. “You promised me you’re going to play good songs, remember?”

  “Quinny, I’ve made the perfect pandemic playlist. Time to get this party started.”

  Isaac went to the sound system he’d set up on his driveway. There were wires connected to six speakers spaced along the block. The whole thing had been rented, sanitized and delivered in a police van.

  As well, five digital projectors had been set up in sequence along the block. The screens were either a garage door or a sheet strung between step ladders. This was going to be an audio and a visual dance.

  People had come out of almost every house now, some sitting in lawn chairs, some standing. My mother and father stood at the end of our driveway—six feet apart. I’d drawn two separate squares there just for them. They both gave me a big thumbs-up. On the street, filling every square, were our classmates. Each person wore earbuds, one bud in their ear, the other hanging loose so they could talk to the person in the square facing them. That person was their partner for the first dance. We were ready to go. I gave Isaac the signal.

  “Good evening, everyone. Are you ready to party?” Isaac called out clearly through the speakers. In answer, a cheer went up along the street. “Nobody can party like a Panther can party!” There was an even bigger cheer. “I give you our first song of the night!”

  The music started playing. I recognized it immediately. It was one my parents liked, an oldie but perfect for the occasion—“Don’t Stand So Close to Me,” by the Police.

  Another cheer went up. It was even louder from the people watching. Kids started dancing. The adults on their driveways started dancing. Their little kids did too. Somehow we’d done it!

  Chapter Seventeen

  I walked up and down the strip between the rows of squares. Everybody was having a good time. I knew it was partly because we were throwing a great party, but it was more than that. It was like giving somebody a glass of water who’d been wandering in the desert for days with nothing to drink. Everyone was so thirsty for contact with other people—even if that contact was at a distance of six feet and they couldn’t touch one another and they were all wearing masks.

  And I loved the masks! Some were made from the same material as the dresses. Others had logos from favorite sports teams. Some featured fake smiles and grimaces and even missing teeth. There were monsters, zombies and superheroes. My mask was pretty simple. I was wearing a smile.

  Each time a song ended the kid in each square moved one square to their left. It was like a gigantic game of musical chairs except nobody was eliminated. Whoever was in the square across from you was your partner for the next dance. Most of the time everyone was dancing. In fact, there was way more actual dancing than there had ever been at any real school dance.

  Sometimes kids took a break. They sat down and had a snack or a drink and talked on the phone to each other. Whether dancing or talking, they were having a good time.

  There was a square called Pandemic Pictures, right in front of the Jacobson house. Mr. Jacobson was a really good amateur photographer. He had lots of expensive lenses for his camera and could zoom in from a safe distance to take pictures. He’d also set up a green screen for special effects. We took turns standing in front of the screen, picking a background from anywhere in the world. Maybe we couldn’t travel very far right now, but we could look like we were. Kids were placed in front of the pyramids, in Paris, on the moon and under the sea, swimming with turtles and dolphins. The photos were spectacular. I chose the New York City skyline as my background.

  These pictures were going to be used for the mask-decorating contest. Miss Fernandez was going to put the pictures on a website, and we would vote for our favorite mask.

  Of course, Mr. Jacobson wasn’t the only one taking pictures. There had to be thousands and thousands of pictures and videos being taken. Everybody had a phone, and almost everybody had theirs out. There were selfies, shots of other people, videos. I knew everyone would be flooding their social media pages with pictures and videos. Those would be things we could see and remember forever.

  In the background of all this was the music. Isaac was killing it. He played many different types of songs and got everybody up on their feet.

  He played “U Can’t Touch This,” which I thought was just about the perfect pandemic song. While MC Hammer danced on the screens, I got to see my father do his best imitation of the dance. Turned out my father had some moves.

  Isaac had picked lots of the standard guaranteed-to-make-you-want-to-move songs but also a lot that spoke to what this dance was really about. Ones that made us laugh. Or maybe cry a little. Songs like “Don’t Stop Believing,” “I Think We’re Alone Now,” “We’re All in This Together,” “I Will Survive,” “The Safety Dance” and “Don’t Come Around Here No More.”

  He was playing—and showing—lots of videos too. When “Renegade” came on, the cheers were so loud I was positive people miles away could have heard the roar. Maybe my father could dance like MC Hammer, but every single person in my class knew the moves to “Renegade.” Of course, most of the adults didn’t know the song or the dance. Miss Fernandez was an exception.

  That was the way it was all night. Different groups reacted or danced to different songs. Isaac seemed to be keeping them all happy. The guy had real DJ skills. And it wasn’t just the songs. It was also the things he said between songs, getting people involved, making jokes. It was like all his joking and fooling around in class over the years had prepared him for this.

  When the song “Staying Alive” came to an end, Isaac got back on the PA.

  “Hey, everyone, I’m afraid to say we’re getting close to the end of our night,” he announced, and the crowd reacted by booing.

  “I know, I know. But we promised to obey the permit laws, and I need you all to help us keep that promise. We do have time for one more song. And it comes with another dedication.”

  Throughout the night people had been texting Isaac requests.

  “This is from Mrs. Reynolds and is dedicated to Mr. Reynolds,” he said. A whole bunch of students said, “Oooooh.” It made me laugh out loud.

  I turned around, looking for our principal. I hadn’t known she was even here! I spotted her and her husband standing on one of the driveways. They waved, and people cheered.

  “I have to say I’m disap
pointed Mrs. Reynolds didn’t dedicate this to me, since we normally spend so much time together,” Isaac said. “But that’s okay. Remember, if you don’t dance to this one, you’re all getting a detention!”

  The music started. I watched on the screen as a man with a punky hat climbed out of a garbage can. I knew the song because it was one my parents liked too—“Dancing by Myself.” I looked over at Mrs. Reynolds. She and her husband were bouncing up and down to the music. Along the entire block, and on the driveways and grass, it seemed like every single person was dancing. It was magic. And it was nearly over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The street was almost empty, and house by house the Christmas lights were being turned off. The screens had been taken down, and the speakers had been returned to Isaac’s driveway. At the far end of the street, the last of the police cars drove off. The chalk squares on the street were still there, of course, but there was really not much else left to prove anything had happened. There wasn’t even garbage to clean up, since people had taken theirs with them when they left.

  I sat down at the edge of my driveway. It was the first time I’d sat down all evening. I closed my eyes and could see the dance playing out in front of me. It made me smile.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I looked up. It was my father.

  “Of course.”

  He put his chair down six feet away from me.

  “You must be happy,” he said.

  “Yes. I think it went pretty good.”

  “Pretty good? It was amazing, Quinn. Your mother and I are so proud of you. You did something very important here tonight.”

  “It was just a dance,” I said. “It’s not important like what you do.”

  “Don’t underestimate what you did. It was much more than a dance. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but for a few hours, during these very strange times, you gave a bunch of people some happiness. You gave them joy. You helped them to forget for a little while. And not just your classmates, but all the people on our street. You gave them hope. You gave me hope. Thank you for that. I love you, Q-Cat.”