Eight Dancers and One Clear Voice

Leena watched her relatives square dance in the lakeside pavilion. Four pairs stood like the sides of a picture frame, following Aunt Pilar's directions over the fiddle music. Leena loved knowing where each dancer would go. Joining them was another matter. She was cautious about unfamiliar things, even choosing a seat where she could watch before anyone invited her onto the floor.

Before the last dance, Aunt Pilar approached her. “I'd like to dance with your grandfather this time. Would you be our caller?” The caller announced the movements so the dancers could move together. Leena pressed her palms against her knees. She knew the calls, but knowing them inside her head seemed different from sending them across a room.

“What if I mix up the directions?” Leena asked. “Then we'll straighten them out,” Aunt Pilar said. “You're good at noticing what people need.” Leena glanced at Grandfather, who was already offering Pilar his arm. “Could we have a rehearsal without music first?” she asked. Her aunt nodded and went to gather the other dancers.

Leena opened her notebook beneath the heading “Our Family Square.” She had drawn four pairs around an empty center. Beneath the drawing, a caption read, “Four pairs face the center.” Now she added arrows and a short list of calls. She traced the arrows with her finger, picturing the dancers moving instead of trying to memorize a string of words.

During the rehearsal, Leena spoke softly. Cousin Nico cupped a hand behind his ear. She tried again, aiming her voice toward a screen door beyond the dancers. This time, everyone heard. They practiced circling left, circling right, and walking around the square with their partners until they reached their starting places. Leena checked each pair before giving the next direction.

Then the music began. Leena hurried her first two calls, afraid she would fall behind the tune. Uncle Dev started right when the others moved left. For a moment, the pattern looked tangled, like yarn pulled from both ends. Leena's cheeks warmed. Her next call waited on her tongue. She could rush ahead and hope, or help everyone find their places.

“Pause there,” she said in a steady voice. “Let's return to our starting spots.” She waited until Dev faced the center again. Then she gave one direction clearly and left time for the dancers to follow it. Around they went. Soon her words and their footsteps fitted together, and she stopped gripping the notebook so tightly.

When the dance ended, Aunt Pilar asked whether Leena wanted to dance next. “In a minute,” Leena said. She wrote a note beside her arrows: Leave room for people to move. Her knees still felt fluttery, but she no longer wished she had stayed in her chair. “First, does anyone want me to call that one again?”