Short Story, The Dancer - by David Sky

Roberto left the bank at 5:02PM whistling a popular tune. He felt happy as usual. A beautiful fall evening around him as he walked home stopping in the bakery and then the meat shop on the way. He had in mind grilling lamb kabobs with couscous and a salad with some fresh sourdough. Dinner, Roberto felt, is his highest daily priority after work.

The butcher said, Roberto, the “Smiling One”! I have a fresh rack of lamb with your name on it. Fresh from the Lugo farm this morning.

Perfect! Roberto kisses his fingers.

He practically skipped up the steps to his flat with a grocery bag in tow. If anyone were paying attention Roberto's background as a dancer was evident with his every movement and blatantly so as he sprung easily up the steep steps.

He knocked on the landlady's door and she handed him his mail for the day. What is for dinner tonight? she asks Roberto.

|Herb roasted lamb, he says brightly.

His apartment was built out of half the upstairs of Mrs. Salazar's house and though very small it came well equipped and fortunately Roberto always had been meticulously organized so he made the tiny kitchen work for after all he cooked merely for himself here. After placing the lamb in a big pot to marinade with olive oil and a host of fresh herbs taken from Roberto's small window garden, Roberto drew himself a hot bath which he enjoyed for almost an hour continuing his reading of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude. The bathroom window faced west and the light of the sun now getting quite low in the sky spread through the humid room with a slight orange cast that Roberto found beautifully romantic.

When he was out of the bath Roberto shaved and blew dry his long, black hair and decided to glam it up for tonight's date adding luxurious eye lashes, eye liner and some light highlighting make up. By the time he finishes it is just after 7PM and he admires himself in the mirror. His date tonight via “video chat” is with a beautiful woman from America who Roberto had chosen to bless with his own special love and attention. He put on a pair of light green hip hugger bell bottoms and a woman's blouse that was just a little lacy and flowed elegantly with the hip hugger bell bottoms. He chose a favorite necklace which was very masculine hanging upon his hairless chest and matching earrings of glassy black obsidian.

He set the table just in front of his beloved laptop with a black tablecloth and silverware putting down two silver candle holders with fresh red candles while the couscous cooked on the stove and his rack of lamb cooked in the broiler. He placed a few fresh flowers he had gathered on the walk home into a small, cobalt vase which he sat so that it would be visible along with the candles to his date, Becky, who would be looking at him via their video chat link. At 7:55 Roberto placed the bottle of red table wine he had breathing on the table in front of the laptop along with a beautifully presented plate with a portion of the lamp chops, couscous and a salid with a big, buttered slice of the sourdough bread. His slight frame did not know the meaning of “weight gain”. Just at eight when Becky dinged in right on time Roberto bowed his head in prayer asking God to allow him great and good focus upon this woman tonight. He turned himself off in a manner of speaking and gave himself utterly to this beautiful, American stranger.

O my! Exclaims Becky when she sees Roberto sitting now at his dinner table.

Welcome, my Love, he says. You are too gracious to agree to have dinner with me like this. I am honored and grateful for your company.

She does not quite no what to say. Finally, with a glint in her eyes, Becky says that she perhaps had not understood the literalness of dining together and that she had not prepared anything.

You must join me, Becky - perhaps you can find something to eat, maybe a glass of wine? Something so I will not have to eat alone here.

Wait one, Becky says leaving the screen's sight.

Roberto sips his wine and waits for her to return. Of course, he would not dream of starting without Becky for he is a gentlemen above all else. She returns with a plate of cheese, some apple slices and a glass of white wine.

I am sorry it is not so beautiful as what you prepared, Roberto. I wish I was there with you did not know you were such a magnificent cook!

I wish you were here with me too, my Love, says Roberto, raising his glass of wine in a toast which Becky joins on the other side of the world from her own apartment. To you, Becky, Roberto says with flair. You of raven hair and hazel eyes you who loves the little dogs so much and who is so strong and wise and compassionate and so very kind as to be my lady this night.

Becky blushes a little. O Roberto, she says, a perfect toast! You remembered my work at the SPCA that means so much to me.

I remember everything about you, Becky. Because you are so beautiful and so special to me. I love you, Becky, very much.

Becky is taken back a little by the rawness of Roberto. His ease and his sincerity. Thank you, she says, looking down.

Roberto eats at the table in front of her just as if they were together in a quiet, romantic restaurant. After a while and a few glasses of white wine, Becky loosens up and begins to laugh. Roberto, she says at one point, you are without a doubt the most handsome and charming man I have ever laid eyes on. Roberto asks many questions of Becky and at every turn points out the positive in her and in her life with an effect after the first hour through such total validation of leaving Becky mildly in love and strongly in lust.

Roberto reaches just out of view and brings up his classical guitar. Sometimes he made up songs for his date but tonight decided to play from some guitar transcriptions by Bach that he had been listening to Segovia play recently. Becky had a love for classical music so Roberto thought this would be the most meaningful for her? This date was all about Becky, Roberto knew, this was his passion, his true work, not banking for god's sake, but this work of his as a “romanticist”. After five minutes listening to him play Becky began to sob quietly then as Roberto continued to play for her, she sobbed more openly her shoulders shaking almost violently as if something were being shaken loose inside her by Roberto's incredible guitar performance.

I feel like you are playing this just for me, Roberto, it is so beautiful.

I am playing just for you, Becky. I love you very much. I do everything tonight for you. You deserve this and so much more, Becky. You are perfect and whole and beautiful and you deserve all the world. All of the world. Now I will dance for you, my Love. Roberto placed his guitar back out of sight and rose up adjusting the screen to capture his upright form best. He removed a green sash from around his waist and place in behind his neck. His movements almost feminine at times as he danced a special dance for Becky who appeared to be beside herself with joy actually applauding at times. His dance goes on and on and as usual Roberto does not speak but does look into Becky's eyes as he dances with all the sincere intensity of true love.

Finally it is obvious that Becky is touching herself on her end as Roberto continues his dance. When she cums Roberto sits back down and speaks for the first time in over an hour and as Becky is catching her breath, he says, I love you very much, Becky. Was that good for you, my Love.

OMG says Becky, laughing, WAS that good for me! Ah, YES! It is almost midnight and Roberto always ends his dates at midnight. The goodbye is tearful and intense and now Becky is also telling Roberto that she loves him.

It is crazy, I know, but I love you too, Roberto, she offers.

When they are done and goodbyes are said, Roberto blocks Becky on his online video chat site and turns off the laptop and returns his dishes to the kitchen. He will never speak to her again. Tomorrow night will be another woman who needs Roberto in her life. Every night a different one. One per night. Occasionally two on weekend but Roberto found that he could not sustain that level of love he wanted to have for them when he did two in one night so mostly it is one per night.

He takes up a letter on his kitchen counter still unopened after a week. His mother sent him these letters regularly for years now. He did not know what she said in these letters because he never opened them. As he threw this letter in the trash, thinking of how she had abandoned him so many times as a child, he did not even feel bad about it.

What he felt was that American women were the most difficult of them all and they did not ever seem to want to eat anything? He gave thanks that his date tomorrow was an older woman from Buenos Aires. He had coordinated dinner with her already because he knew she would cook and eat with him since most of the rest of the women in the world outside of these Americans seem to like eating?

Still, he thought seriously - the Americans need me the most of all.