Among the forty-one open, unsolved stories I have on my desk at this moment (... in reality I think it's only five) this one demanded my immediate and undivided attention Among the forty-one open, unsolved stories I have on my desk at this moment (... in reality I think it's only five) this one demanded my immediate and undivided attention. Actually, it was the image of one slim, green-eyed Italian in a form-fitting black turtleneck and charcoal-grey, silk/wool blend Armani slacks, gliding across the dance floor, that demanded my attention. The actual story is superfluous. J Disclaimer: Much as it pains me to admit it, they aren't mine. L THE DANCE LESSON "Ray, do you know how to dance?" Ray glanced at his partner, then turned his attention back to the road. "Sure." "Ah, good. Good. I, ah, do you think you could teach me?" "What for? I thought you already knew how to dance." "Well, yes, technically, I do, I mean, my grandmother taught me ballroom dancing when I was seven." The Mountie was stammering, a sure sign that he was nervous. "And I know a few of the Inuit ceremonial dances, and when I was in training with the RCMP I learned some disco." "So what's the problem?" "Yes, well, ah, the problem is, the Consulate is holding a reception tomorrow night, and as a part of the movement to bring a new dynamism to the Canadian image, Inspector Thatcher has just informed me that the music she has selected is of a more, ah, modern turn, and that I will be expected to, as she says, represent my country on the dance floor." Ray grinned. "So, the dragon lady's working on a new scheme to drag the Mounties into the twentieth century." "Well, actually, Ray, we're entering the twenty-first... oh. You were attempting... that's just not amusing, Ray." "Yeah, well. So you wanna learn how to dance, huh? Ok, tell you what. You let me go home and get some stuff, and I'll meet you back here about 7. With your apartment, it should be easier to clear some floor space than at my house with the entire family underfoot." "All right, Ray. Shall I order in?" "Sure. It's your week to choose, anything but that Thai stuff is fine with me. I'll see you later, OK?" "All right, Ray." Ben got out of the car and pulled the seat forward for Diefenbaker. "I'll see you at seven. And thank you kindly."   At precisely five minutes to seven, Ray arrived at the door of apartment 3J with his arms full, and Ben answered the door on the second kick. "Ah, Ray. Come in. I took the liberty of ordering Chinese." Ray entered the apartment and placed his burdens on the small table, which had been pushed as far into one corner as possible. "It should be here in about half an hour," he continued, closing the door. "Maybe we could... get started, while we wait?" "Sure. I brought a portable CD player," Ray answered, plugging it in, "and some CD's. I had to borrow a couple of Frannie's." "Thank her for me, please." "Already did. And," he said, producing a plastic container, "I managed to talk Ma out of sending dinner, but I couldn't get away without dessert. So we got cake to go with our fortune cookies." "That sounds lovely." Ben picked up a few of the compact disks from the pile on the tabletop. "Francesca listens to these?" "Incessantly. God, listen to me. I've been hanging around with you too long. Actually, that one's mine," he said, as Ben came to a CD with a black cover. "Well, then we'll listen to that one first," he said, opening the case and handing over the shiny silver disc inside. He walked the few steps into the living room, where he stood nervously as Ray started the machine and a warm Latin beat filled the apartment. "Ok, Benny." Ray shed his jacket, revealing a slim black turtleneck over charcoal slacks that moved with him, emphasizing his lithe grace. "Now, for this kind of dancing, you just have to go with the flow. Loosen up, take a deep breath, and let the music move you." He demonstrated a few steps. Ben watched carefully, then copied his movements precisely, though a bit stiffly. "Like this?" Ray watched critically. "Not bad. Keep going." He himself continued to sway to the music, and Ben mirrored his actions. After a few minutes, however, he gave in and cracked up. "Benny, you can't just copy what I'm doing. There aren't any steps you can memorize. Modern dancing is a state of mind. You just have to do it. Now, I'm gonna sit down, and you keep dancing." He sat, and with a Herculean effort refrained from laughing as Canada's most dyed-in-the-wool Mountie attempted the cha-cha. Finally, the food arrived, and they were able to take a break. They discussed dancing as they ate. "I can't do this, Ray." "You're doing great, Benny. You just need to relax." "I think I've discovered what the problem is. All the styles of dance I've mastered are highly ritualized, with specific steps performed in a specific way. I can learn those. What I can't seem to do is improvise." "What are you talking about? When we're working on a case, all you do is improvise. You come up with stuff nobody in the world's ever heard of." "That's different." "Hmm." Ray concentrated on his mu-shu. "I know what it is. Dancing is about self-expression, about letting yourself go." "I can let myself go." "Hey, don't get all huffy on me! And you can not." "I can so." Ray said nothing, but sat back in his chair, a challenge evident in his face. "All right, I'll prove it." Ben stood and pressed 'play,' and as he waited for the music to begin, there was a new gleam in his eye and a touch of color in his cheeks. The opening chords were struck, and he executed a perfect turn with a flourish. He continued to move with the music, developing a style that was a little bit Inuit, a little bit ballet, a pinch of tango, a touch of disco, and completely Benny. "You got it! You really got it, Benny! That's great!" Ray exclaimed delightedly. At the end of the song, Ben collapsed into his chair, breathless, laughing, and triumphant. "That was great! You do it like that at the reception, and you'll be the life of the party." Suddenly a thought struck, and Ben's smile faded. "Ray, how do couples dance like that?" "Oh, it's not that hard. Come on." He stood and extended a hand, which Ben took. "Now, in this case, you are supposed to follow what I do. Don't copy me, but try to stay kinda in step with me." Ben complied in silence, and in a few minutes they were dancing smoothly. "Ok, good. Now you lead." Ben's step faltered, and he closed his eyes for a second, suddenly unsure of himself. Then he opened them and saw Ray's quiet encouragement, and he slipped back into the rhythm, taking the lead without thought. His confidence increased as they moved together, and he even tried a few new steps. They danced until the CD came to an end. As the music began to fade out, Ray asked, "So, you think you can handle this tomorrow?" Ben just smiled, and said nothing as he pulled his friend and teacher into a dip. END Let me know what you thought!