A Time to Dance

Because friendship is about laughing when the other person is joking to make you feel better. Even if you don’t find her joke all that funny.

I want to tell the nurses no scale can measure the pain of my dreams dancing beyond reach.

My skin tingles as I step into the music, give in to the icy thrill of pleasure that spreads through me whenever I dance, the pleasure of leaping into a cool lake on a sweltering day.

I'm not sure I can empty myself of wishing for those able bodies I don't own.

My hand slips into his as though it remembers his touch and we've held hands often in a previous life.

Will you go out with me for a cup of coffee?" "No." "No?" "I prefer tea, thank you.

You don't have to climb ladders to reach God. He dances within all He creates.

Jim was cricket practice; Govinda's the real match. Match. Get it?

How does the new leg feel?' I don't point out their question misses a point: even this new leg doesn't feel.

It feels like Shiva destroyed my universes of possibility, like He's dancing on the ashes of my snatched away dreams.

I feel the American’s eyes on me, looking as though I’m more than an amputee, a number, a chore. He crosses over to me, his strides large, a broad smile on his lips. “Veda? Did I say your name right?” “Yes, Doctor.” “Call me Jim. Please.” His left hand in his pocket, he holds his right hand out to me. As though we’re equals. “Thank you, Doctor—I mean—just Jim,” I say. He chuckles. “Haven’t done anything yet.” He has. No older man ever invited me to shake hands. No other adult ever asked me to call them by name. He even said “please” although I’m a patient.

The van lurches forward. My thoughts race back.

I can dance beauty into my body

I don't mind pushing my body to test my balance. I don't want to push my mind back to where the accident led me.

I take a step down into the space where light is an enemy but not even darkness shrouds my terror.

Chandra told me once about absolute zero, a temperature cold enough to bring the universe to a standstill. My heart feels like it's at absolute zero.

I shake my head. It was all me. My mistake. I read too much into everything. Dreamed, imagined, and let my thoughts get as out of control as my body. “Veda,

Dance isn’t about winning or losing,” he says, “it’s about enjoying how your body moves.” I

Nothing else fills me with as much elation as chasing down soaring music, catching and pinning rhythms to the ground with my feet, proud as a hunter rejoicing in his skill. The

I lean into his touch. He looks shy and almost as scared as I was just feeling. I burst out laughing. Never imagined we'd share being scared the first time we went out together. "What's so funny now?" "You. You look so frightened." "I am frightened." He exhales. Then smiles and slides closer to me.

I'll be back in his classroom, back in competition, back on my own feet. Or rather, back on my own one foot.