The second weekend free I made it to 53rd and Third. Just checking it out, see. I didn’t say nothing to nobody. I just stood at the corner. I didn’t even go into any of the bars. What for? I didn’t have no money to spend on drinks. And I didn’t know yet how to look like I wanted something to drink so the men who was buying would notice. I stayed outside, checking the whole scene out until it got cold. I stopped at a nearby coffee shop and had hot chocolate. I didn’t expect nothing there. That’s probably why I looked so relaxed and calm. But this older guy spotted me and sat down at the counter. He ordered a coffee. Black. No sugar. Before I knew what was happening, he pushed a folded note to me. I thought it was just paper and would have thrown it away, but it felt like money. It smelled green. A ten-dollar bill. Then he reached for my check and paid for both of us. I didn’t know what else to do. I followed him outside.

Ruella

Ruella

That spring of 1976 I looked forward to the coming dance con certs and theater festivals. Especially since I was with the Taylor Johnson First Company. We’d been in rehearsals all winter, doing warm-up stretches close to the radiators and with as many leg and body warmers as we could wear and still move around. I thought about Phillip who was getting out on parole. And I thought a lot about Jesse. In spite of all we had been through, he was still my friend. We still fussed like cat and dog, but I couldn’t keep him and couldn’t let him go.

After the trial in December, when the boys were found guilty of murdering Metro, Jesse returned to the apartment on West 4th Street. He fixed it up differently and he was living there alone, but he was dating Rodney, who hurt his ankle and wasn’t cast in the show. Too bad for him. Truth is, I didn’t care if Rodney got back into the company or not. I was dancing solo. Jesse got my message and left me alone. I didn’t even miss him staying with me. We saw each other enough during rehearsals. Sometimes we danced together just to practice.

Jesse was luckier than I thought. He was asked to create a piece for a workshop presentation at City Center in May. He wouldn’t talk about the piece except to say it was a dance for males. I figured as much. Something about brothers, maybe, or fathers and sons. Lovers, perhaps. He promised to show me some of the steps before the company director saw the whole thing. Up to now Jesse had been silent. A little too cautious, if you ask me. They were at least giving him a chance. That was more than most dancers got.