Murray Benowitz shuddered. He wondered if Krupke would mind driving him to the subway station and seeing him safely on a train for home? What a way to earn a living!

From the moment he had arrived at the dance, Tony had felt out of place. He hadn’t brought a date and everyone there was paired off. And when he saw Bernardo and the Sharks, Riff and the Jets, they all seemed like foreigners. If he moved toward the door, no one would notice and he could get away. If Riff were stupid enough to challenge Bernardo, that was his business.

Then he saw the girl in the white dress standing against the wall. And as he saw her, she saw him, and any thought he had of leaving was gone. As if he were being led, Tony Wyzek approached Maria Nunez, looked into her dark eyes, stretched out his hands, and was led by her into another land.

The mambo had ended and a lighter, slower record had been placed on the turntable. As Tony drifted onto the dance floor, he gently clasped her fingers and looked down at her heart-shaped face, her liquid brown eyes, her lovely mouth just touched with lipstick. He nodded to approve of her dress which was white, beautiful, so different from anything worn by the other girls.

His fingers barely touched her back. Her touch on his shoulder was light, fragile; when he moved her through a turn and his hand pressed more firmly, she shuddered and moved as if to leave him, so Tony tightened his fingers only for a moment, then relaxed them.

There was nothing to fear, he told the girl. Never having been in this land before, he knew it well. It was a gentle land of green fields, warm winds, brilliant birds and perfumed flowers; no matter that they walked on clouds, they would not fall. Although he heard the music, it was as if from a distance.

Maria felt that her heart might burst. Were the lights above them dimmed so that she could not see this Anglo boy with whom she danced? And why wasn’t she frightened of him? Why didn’t he look, act, speak, as Bernardo said the Anglos did?

The night was hot, she felt perspiration trickle down the small of her back, but the fingers of this boy were so cool, and he danced so easily, without pressing against her, without trying to “sock it in,” which was how Bernardo described Anglo dancing. But she had seen how Bernardo danced with Anita, how all the Sharks danced with their girls, so they were no different from the Jets.

“You’re not thinking I’m someone else?” she heard him ask. It was a good voice, very shy.

Maria shook her head. “I know you’re not.”

“Or that we’ve met before?” Tony asked instead of shouting with joy that the girl wasn’t going to leave him. He was certain of that now. This was as it had to be in this land: people who entered together remained there together, forever.