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Dancing in the Silence, Book 2 in World Without Sound series

By Linda Sammaritan

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Chapter 1: The Best Thing and the Worst Thing (February 1967)
Last summer, Fwan-nee
Saved me from dogs in a barn.
I like Fwan-nee now.

***

Leaf shadows danced in the sliver of a moonbeam reflected on the bedroom wall. I yawned and snuggled under the covers while Francie fussed with her pillow on the other side of the room. The best thing in the world was this moment, getting to visit my oldest friend for three whole days.
“Debbie?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The heat ticking through the baseboards created a cozy lullaby.
“We haven’t talked about the worst thing.” Francie and I used to have sleepovers every Friday night when I lived around the block, and we always talked about the best thing and the worst thing of the week.
I’d spent the last month ignoring the worst thing in my life.
“Now or later?” Her voice died to a whisper.
“Now. Then we can get up tomorrow and have fun.”
Like killing mold by exposing it to sunlight, we needed to toss out all of our sadness where we could see it clearly instead of letting it lurk in dim corners. Then maybe we could enjoy the rest of my stay.
Francie turned on the bedside lamp, creating a soft glow from the milk glass. “I’ll start.”
Even after she’d crushed her honey-brown hair on the pillow, it draped silky and smooth over one shoulder. My frizzy blond waves never looked that good.
Francie’s deep blue eyes glittered with tears. “My dad has a new job, and we’re moving to Idaho.”
Back in January, she’d told me the news over the phone. It was bad enough when I moved to the opposite end of New York State after fifth grade. Now, we’d live even farther apart. Who could take time for a road trip across the country? And nobody was rich enough to fly. We might not ever see each other again.
I stared at the Beatles poster on the wall above the dresser. John Lennon, who always seemed to brood over the problems in life, peered back at me. My old Tressy doll sat on top of the dresser. Her perky smile created an odd contrast with his solemn expression. “What’s the worst thing about moving?”
Francie’s tears spilled over. “I’ll never see Ernie again.”
I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend, Chip, were gone from my life forever. “Are you going to write to each other?”
“Probably. But I haven’t told him yet. What if he breaks up with me now so it won’t hurt so bad later?”
“If he’s that much of a weenie, he’s not good enough for you.”
She hiccupped a laugh through her tears and sniffed. “Thanks.”
“What’s the best thing about moving?”
Paul McCartney’s face smiled at me from the poster. His upbeat personality kicked aside John’s glum attitude.
She thought for a moment. “I’ll get to ski in the Rocky Mountains. They’ll make the Adirondacks feel like bunny hills.”
“Then I’d better not visit you in winter.”
Francie snorted. She knew I was terrified of skiing. “We’d have to be on the lookout for bears in the summer.”
“Better than swimming with sharks, right?” She was terrified of the ocean.
Our giggles brought a parental voice from the other side of the wall. “Girls.”
Francie turned off the lamp. Your turn,” she whispered. “Worst thing.”
All of my laughter drained away. “We’re moving to California next month so my dad can train for Vietnam.” The idea of my father being in danger every day for a whole year hovered over me like a dark parachute descending to the ground and burying me underneath folds of fear.
In the moonlight, her eyes widened. “Will he have to bomb villages?”
“I don’t know. I think he’s supposed to shoot enemy planes.”
We never talked about these things at home. I couldn’t picture my father killing anybody. He was the nicest, kindest dad in the world, but…he was a fighter pilot.
“Have you seen all the protests on the news?” Francie was full of uncomfortable questions.
“We try not to watch.” What if she was like the people on TV, screaming and swearing at any man in a uniform? Would she hate me because my dad was in the Air Force? “What do you think of the war protests?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Those people are so nasty. But I guess I do wonder why we’re in a war at all.”
How had Daddy explained it?
“Before we were born, communists in North Korea tried to take over South Korea, and we went to war to stop them. Now, communists in North Vietnam are trying to take over South Vietnam, and we have to do it again.”
“Why not just let them be communist?”
“Because the people in the south don’t want to be, and we’re their friends. If we don’t help our friends, they’ll lose the war, and then the communists will try to take over Cambodia and Burma and Laos and Thailand.”
“And those people don’t want to be communist either, I guess.” Silence for a few seconds while she paused to consider strangers halfway around the world. “What’s the worst thing about moving to California?”
“My dad could die.”
If I didn’t want to watch the news, and I didn’t want to think about what my dad might have to do in a war, I sure didn’t want to think about him dying. I’d never even said those words out loud before. To stop her from asking any more questions, I rushed on with my list of “next-worsts.”
“Then there’s other stuff like I won’t see Chip for months. I’ll have to make new friends and then leave almost as soon as I’ve gotten to know them. Without Dad around to referee, my mother will drive me crazy. But I’m the oldest kid, so I’ll be expected to help out, especially with Krista. What if I mess up?” I paused for breath. “And I’ll be living in a desert with rattlesnakes, scorpions, black widows, and who knows what else that can kill a person.”
I didn’t appreciate Francie’s snicker.
“If it were that dangerous, nobody would survive in California. There’s an awful lot of people there.”
“Maybe, but I’ll be praying for angels to protect me every night while I sleep.”
“You do that.” The smile remained in her voice. “What’s the best thing?”
Easy answer. “After four months, I get to go back home to Hampton Shores and the ocean.”
“That doesn’t count. What’s the best thing in California?”

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