Gracie had waited for Marty to get there. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the school felt totally different when it was empty. No shouting. No bag throwing. No Gerry and his mates. Just an empty yard with a few leaves rustling across it. The competition was coming up fast and if she didn’t have a show dance, she stood no chance. Marty watched as she took off her jacket and threw it on the grass before placing her phone against the middle of the whispering wall. She pressed the screen and selected a song and went to stand, letting the music bounce along the wall in both directions so that it amplified the sound behind her. She’d wanted him to be there because she’d never danced in front of anyone before, and since there’d be a whole panel at the competition, she’d have to start somewhere, and Marty was the one she trusted most.

She did her stretches first, switched off her sound processor, then slowly moved to the middle of the floor. She closed her eyes and started to feel the music. Marty had never seen a dancer before, not really. He’d seen people dance, of course, Grandad doing his shimmies and that kind of stuff, but not a real live person with dancing in them. With dancing in the way they moved their arms or tilted their head. Someone who could hear something in the world that he couldn’t. He sat on the floor with his back to the wall, letting the waves of sound roll over him, and watched. She stood still at first, as if she was listening to something deep, deep inside. Closed her eyes. Felt the rhythms moving up her legs. She stood and stood and stood until she almost seemed to tip to the side. Step. Swaying her arms. There didn’t seem to be a pattern, but it all kind of made sense. The music wasn’t happy; it was a kind of—Marty hunted for the word—regret? Was that it? Regretful? She wasn’t there anymore. Not in the way that he was. It was as if she were far away, speaking with this world through her body, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else. Marty watched her, his skin prickling. She did have a superpower. She could disappear. In this space. Dancing allowed her to imagine, and be and disappear wherever she wanted to go. She seemed totally free.

Suddenly Marty felt a tinge of something, he wasn’t sure what it was. Admiration? Yes, but it was more like envy, of the ability to be that free. That flowing. To have that space. And hope? Was that it? That somehow, far away, a tide was turning.

Gracie practiced for a long time while Marty watched her. He was so spellbound, he didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks.

TWELVE