Unwept by Laura Hickman Tracy Hickman

or thought they knew. Squeals and peals of laughter rang out as they danced like a swarm of bees gone mad.
    â€œSay, here’s a Victrola!” yelled a fellow wearing a bright red blazer as he moved to the back of the hall.
    Merrick’s head snapped toward the voice. He glared, his eyes fixed in astonishment on the machine.
    Ellis could not remember seeing it when she first came in, but now a new Victrola record player stood plainly near the entrance door. She stepped up to it, admiring the shining flower horn, the fresh felt on the turntable and the finish on the case. A record case leaned against the table. Ellis reached down and pulled out a glass gramophone from the sleeve. She read the label and smiled. “Maple Leaf Rag,” it read. She centered the gramophone on the spindle, cranked up the motor and set the stylus on the outer area of the spinning disk.
    The up-tempo music poured into the hall out of the Victrola’s horn. Ellis stood in wonder as she watched everyone’s astonishment.
    â€œWhat do we do now?” demanded Alicia over the tinny music.
    â€œWell, you dance,” Ellis said. “Most people dance a turkey trot to this music.”
    â€œIn the city, right?” Jenny urged. “Show us, Ellie, please!”
    The jaunty strains of the Joplin rag echoed throughout the large room.
    â€œWell, I think it’s something like this.” Ellis pulled Jenny toward her, putting her in dance hold. “Hop on your left foot while raising the right knee, then up on the right foot while raising the left knee. Then you hop four times on your left foot with your leg out to the side while turning, then continue the turn while hopping on the right leg with the left leg held out to the…”
    The Nightbirds in the room were already pairing off. Each couple was trying to dance the steps they had barely seen with enthusiastic abandon. The hall was a chaos of crazy motion, a mad caricature of a dance.
    â€œNow you’ve done it.” Jenny snickered lightly.
    â€œNo, you started it with that hair,” said Ellis, grinning as she returned the tease.
    Ellis’s laughter faded into curiosity. She watched as Merrick stepped slowly toward the back of the hall, approaching the blaring record player as though it were a thing of menace. He stood for a long moment glowering at the cheerily playing device. He was reaching forward hesitantly to touch it as Ellis stepped up to him.
    â€œDon’t you care for the music, Mr. Bacchus?” Ellis chided.
    Merrick jumped slightly as though startled but regained his composure as he turned toward Ellis. “I am not accustomed to stepping out, Ellis, and not all things from the city have reached us here as yet. Tell me, did you happen to bring your book with you?”
    â€œMy book?” Ellis replied with a smile. “No, sadly, I did not bring a book. I was hoping I might borrow one … perhaps from this literary society.”
    Merrick gave her a quizzical look. “Indeed? You surprise me, Ellis.”
    â€œDo I?” Ellis said, tilting her head. “I can’t imagine how.”
    The set of double doors on the far side of the Victrola swung wide open. Ellis turned at the sound. Beyond the open doorway was revealed one of the side rooms from the hall. A long, linen-covered table was set with plates of assorted foods.
    Alicia clapped her hands together to gain some attention. “A light luncheon is now on the buffet, people. Please continue to enjoy yourselves.” She strode into the side room, picked up a china plate from the buffet and, giving Jenny a baleful look, turned her back on the hubbub.
    Jenny laughed, joining Ellis and Merrick. “Whatever Alicia commands must be obeyed!”
    Merrick, a smile at the corner of his mouth, gestured Ellis and Jenny toward the side room.
    A few dancers were attracted to the food. Ellis stood hesitantly, knowing it would be impolite to skip the luncheon in