"Jess!  Jess, where are you!"

Jess was surprised to hear Doug yelling through the house for her.  Just a moment ago, she'd seen the black car drive past the window bringing Doug and Uncle Jonathon home from work, but whatever the reason, he sounded excited rather than upset or angry.

"I'm in the dining room!" she called out, placing the last pieces of silverware at her uncle's spot.

"Oh, there you are," Doug said, walking through the doorway with a big smile and carrying a flat paper bag.  "You gotta come with me," he said, motioning for her.

"It's almost time for dinner.  I'm helping Annie."

"She can spare you for a few minutes," he replied, approaching her.  "You have to come!  I want to show you something."  She thought he was going to open the sack, but instead he took her hand and began pulling her out of the room.

"What's going on!" she laughed.  "Why can't you show me in the dining room?"

"Because I can't!  There's this new dance I have to show you," he said, smiling back at her as he led her through the hallway.  "Everyone's doing it."

They entered the grand parlor and if it wasn't for the fact that Doug still had her hand, she might have hesitated to continue.  Uncle Jonathon was mixing a drink at the bar cabinet with his back to them.  Even though he'd gone back to mostly ignoring her over the summer, Jess was still relieved she was with Doug.  She knew he wouldn't say anything critical as long as Doug was there.

"I went out on my lunch break to buy the record," Doug said, letting go of her hand and taking a 45 out of the bag. 

He lifted the lid on the high-fidelity stereo and placed the 45 on the platter.  After starting the record, he turned around and Jess heard the opening notes played by a saxophone.

"I heard this on the radio!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, they've been playing it non-stop.  It's called 'The Twist'." 

Jess stepped forward so they could dance together but Doug put his hands on her shoulders and moved her back a few steps. 

"Watch me," he said. 

He bent his knees and began swiveling his hips while moving his arms in the opposite direction in time to the music and Jess's eyes widened.  She'd never seen anything like it.  And it was especially surprising to see Doug doing it in his dark suit, his shined shoes sliding on the rug as he twisted his body.

"Try it Jess!" he said with a grin, and she slowly began mimicking him.  Speeding up as she got the hang of it, she felt a tremendous joy moving her body in time to the music and feeling her skirt swish past her legs.  There was something freeing about it. 

"It's fun, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Jess agreed. 

"What on earth are you doing?"

Annie was standing next to Uncle Jonathon who was now watching them while he sipped his drink.

"We're dancing!" Doug laughed, not stopping.

"But – you're not holding Jess!"  She seemed completely scandalized.

"You don't hold your partner with this dance.  It's new," Doug explained as the song ended, and he put the needle back at the beginning.

"Can you believe how children are dancing now?" Annie asked Uncle Jonathon while the music started up again.

"That's not dancing," Uncle Jonathon said mildly.  "And it's not music," he added, then turned and left the room.

"You two should come eat," Annie said worriedly.  "Your dad won't want dinner to be cold."

"We'll come as soon as it's finished," Doug assured her, and she left them alone.

When the song ended, Jess was breathless and giddy. 

"I loved that!" she said as they walked back to the dining room.

"I know!  As soon as I saw my friends doing it, I had to learn.  I bet everyone at State will be doing it!" he said happily.

"You're probably right," she agreed, smiling up at him.  In just a week, he was leaving for college and Jess knew his excitement was growing by how much he'd been bringing it up.  "Do you want to dance again after dinner?"

"Sure!  That'd be swell!"

~

The next afternoon, Jess and Marty were relaxing under the willow tree in their swimsuits after eating lunch.  Marty was lying down and Jess could tell he was drifting off, but she wasn't tired.  Most days she'd been able to combat the monotony and boredom of summer by swimming until she was exhausted and reading late into the night until she fell asleep, but today the restlessness was worse than normal.  Remembering how much fun she'd had dancing with Doug, she got an idea.

"Hey," she said, putting her hand on Marty's shoulder to jiggle him.

"Yeah," he said, opening his eyes and squinting at her.

"Get up.  I want to show you a new dance."

"I don't dance," he said, closing his eyes.

 "Come on, Marty!" she prodded, jumping up.  "It's real fun.  Everyone's doing it."

"Not everyone," he replied dryly.  She could tell he was trying not to smile and she felt frustrated, knowing he'd now turned it into a game.  Looking down at him, she decided on a different tactic.

"Come on baby," she sang slowly, reaching down to take his hand, and Marty opened his eyes with surprise.  "Let's do the twist."  While she gently pulled, his expression changed and his face lit up.  "Come on bay-bee, let's do the twist."  He allowed her to pull him to a standing position and from the way his brown eyes were glowing when he looked down at her, she knew she had him.  "Take me by my little hand, and go like this."

Dropping his hand, she continued singing the lyrics and began swiveling her hips, her bare feet pivoting on the grass.  Marty gazed at her with wonder, but after a few minutes he still hadn't started dancing and she stopped singing.

"Try it.  Move your hips," she urged, continuing to dance.

"They don't move like that," he said, slowly shaking his head while he continued to watch her.

"Try, Marty!" she said, and she reached over with exasperation, putting her hands on his hips in an attempt to move them, but he immediately barked out a laugh and jumped backwards.

"You're tickling me!"

"If you don't do it, I'm going to tickle you for real!" she warned angrily.

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, putting his hands up.  "But I need music."

From the wily grin in his face, she knew he was being difficult on purpose, but she was determined to get him to dance with her.  Starting the song at the beginning, she danced and Marty began making jerky motions with his body as if he was having a difficult time figuring out how to move.  It was clear he was no natural dancer like Doug, and Jess tried hard not to laugh, not wanting to discourage him, but then he seemed to put it together and began swiveling his hips, although somewhat jerkily. 

"See, it's not so hard!" she encouraged.

"If you say so," he grumbled.

She laughed with delight, happy she was dancing with Marty for the first time, but he looked serious, as if he had to put all his concentration into moving his body correctly.  After a few more minutes, he stopped. 

"I'm tired!  Can't we quit," he whined.

"How can you be tired?  I could do this all day, but – okay," she relented, realizing it was a losing battle.  He dropped dramatically to the ground.

"I'm gonna need two naps now!" he said, sprawling out and throwing his arm over his eyes.

"Stop being such a baby," she said, sitting beside his prone body.  While she looked out at the water, her thoughts drifted to a time when she wouldn't be stuck at home for the entire summer. 

"I bet they have dances at college," she said, looking over at him out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't say anything.  "I bet they have them every weekend.

"I reckon," he said lazily, with his arm still over his eyes.

"Will you go and dance with me?"

"Maybe," he replied with a shrug, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. 

Grinning, she hugged her knees, and looked back out at the water, thinking about all the fun things she was going to be able to do with Marty.  College was going to be the best time of her life.  She just knew it.

~

The next day was Annie's day off, and Jess woke to a silent house.  After eating breakfast in the kitchen, she made lunch for her and Marty, and then took her time walking to the cabin.  It would be at least another half hour before Marty arrived. 

When she walked inside, she propped the door open to air out the cabin, and then turned to open a window. 

"Marty!" she gasped with surprise.  He was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the darkened fireplace, leaning forward with his head in his hands.  "I thought you were still at work."

"I didn't go to work," he muttered without moving. 

Her heart leapt in her throat as she went to him, knowing something was terribly wrong.  Setting her basket aside, she knelt in front of him and he slowly lifted his head.

"Oh, Marty," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.  His lower lip was split open and swollen, and his left eye had a large deep purple bruise under it, but it was the anguish she saw in his eyes that broke her heart.  "What happened?" she said, reaching up to gently caress his cheek.

 "I thought he was asleep, but he was waiting for me," he spat bitterly.

"I'm so sorry," she said, blinking back tears.

He leaned into her hand while she stroked his cheek with her thumb, his eyes filled with pain, and she wondered what kind of a man would want to hurt his son like this.  She wished she could make it all go away so he wouldn't be hurting so badly, but it was impossible.  She felt helpless. 

"I'll get a cold cloth for your swelling," she said standing up.  At least that was something she could do.

"Jess!" he said desperately, grasping her hand, and she looked down at him.  "Don't go," he begged, struggling not to cry and her heart ached for him.  Kneeling again, she put her arms around him and he hugged her tight, burying his face in her shoulder.

"He found it," he said, his voice cracking.  "He found all of it."

"He found what?" she asked gently.

"The money I was saving, almost a hundred dollars.  He took it all."

"Oh, no," she moaned, and hugged him tighter.  How awful it must have been for him, not just to have his dad beat him, but to steal his money for college.

"You can save more," she said, trying to give him hope.   "You have time."  She felt him shake his head against her shoulder.

"No, Jess.  I can't."

"But you have more than two years," she said, letting go so she could look at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, his face grim as he stared at the floor. 

"He was mad I'd been holding out on him," he said bitterly.  "He says I gotta pay my own way now."

"What – does that mean?" she asked, dread rising up in her.

"He says I gotta pay rent – and help with bills.  If I don't, he's gonna throw me out.  I ain't got nowhere else to go!" he cried, finally looking up at her, his eyes filled with pain and desperation. 

She grabbed onto him, and he buried his face in her shoulder again.  How could this be happening?  How was he going to go to college if he couldn't save any money?  There had to be a way, something he could do, and she wracked her brain, trying to come up with a plan.

"Maybe – maybe I can find a really cheap college," she said, thinking out loud.  "Then you wouldn't need to save as much, and in two years –."  He let go of her and leaned back, examining her with incredulity.  

"You don't get it.  I can't make enough money to pay my old man running deliveries a few hours after school."

"What do you mean?" she asked faintly, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"I'm finished!" he spat.  "I ain't going back to school."

"But – you have to go!" she declared.  "What about your future?  What about our future?"

"There is no future," he said grimly, shaking his head. 

"No!" Jess cried, covering her face with her hands as a flood of tears came.  It couldn't be true.  It couldn't be the end.  Leaning over as she sobbed, she felt like her heart had just been torn in half.  

"Jess, please don't cry," Marty pleaded, pulling on her arms in an attempt to lift her.  "I'm sorry I said it like that." 

As he lifted her off the floor, she put her arms around him and climbed on his lap.  He held her tight while she sobbed into his neck.

"I don't want to leave without you," she cried.

"I know," he sighed, squeezing her tighter.

"Did you tell your dad you were going to college?" she said, lifting her head and wiping her eyes.  "Maybe if you did, he'd give you –."

"You think he cares about that?" Marty shouted, his body shaking her.  "I told you no one in my family ever graduated high school!  He thinks I'm worthless and – I am," he muttered, his body slumping in defeat.

"No, Marty!  You're not worthless," she cried, holding him tighter and burying her face in his neck.

"I really liked school," he said quietly, his voice breaking.

"I know you did," she whispered, burrowing into him and stroking his cheek. 

"I shoulda never gotten my hopes up," he continued bitterly.  "I shoulda known it would never happen." 

She didn't know what to say, and in the silence that followed, her heart ached for both of them.  All of her dreams of going away with Marty had been shattered.  When she thought about her future now, she knew she could never leave town forever since that would mean leaving Marty forever.  But she'd never be free to see him either.  After everything Doug had gone through with Donna, she knew there was no chance her uncle would ever approve of her seeing Marty.  They would never be free.

"I'm gonna have to tell Mr. Dwyer I'm quitting.  My old man wants me to work at the gas station where he works."

"Marty, you can't work with him!  He – he's mean to you!"

"I got to if I'm gonna make enough money!" he insisted angrily.  "I ain't got no choice."  She could hear the defeat in his voice and she slumped, feeling just as defeated.  "I'm gonna be just like my old man," he muttered.

"That's not true, Marty!" she said fiercely.  "You'll never be like him!"  He didn't say anything and she was overwhelmed with helplessness, knowing she could never make him believe it now. 

"I better go," he said, letting go of her.

"Where are you going?"

"I gotta see Mr. Dwyer," he replied, refusing to meet her eyes.  "Might as well get it over with."

"No, Marty," she pleaded, the tears coming back.  Once he quit his job at the drug store, that really would be the end of his future.

"Come on, Jess," he said grimly, taking hold of her arms and lifting her off him, his grip tight enough to hurt.  "I gotta do it."

Once she was off his lap, he let go of her and headed for the door.  She wanted to stop him, but she knew there was no use.

"I'll walk you to the fence," she said.  She thought he might refuse, but he didn't say anything and she followed him out of the cabin.

While she walked beside him across the clearing, she tried to think of a solution.  Marty couldn't work all day with a man who beat him and stole his money, but what other options were there?  If he didn't find full-time work, he'd be homeless.  There was the cabin, but as soon as she considered it, she realized it wouldn't be practical.  There was no bed leaving him with only the hard wood floor to sleep on, and with the winter coming, it would be even more difficult.  It was hard enough for them to find enough wood to keep it heated just for a few hours a day.  It would also be risky since it would increase the odds of him being caught.  The situation was hopeless, she thought forlornly.

"Well, I'll see you later," he mumbled with his head hanging when they'd reached the edge of the trees.  He looked utterly broken, and she couldn't bear it.  She stepped forward to hug him tight.

"Don't give up hope Marty." she murmured into his shirt.  "We'll figure something out.  You'll see. We have plenty of time."

He pulled her arms off and turned to leave without a backward glance, disappearing through the brush.  She pulled a branch aside and watched him climb the fence and then shove his hands in his pockets as he walked away with his head down.  When he got too far for her to see him, she stepped out, unable to let him out of her sight.  It was only when she could no longer see him even with her face pressed against the iron bars that she turned away. 

When she reached the cabin, she stood in the living room feeling like the silence was crushing her.  Collapsing in the chair where Marty had been sitting, she leaned onto the arm, burying her head in her arms and feeling utterly desolate.

                ~~~~~~~

While Marty trudged towards town, he tried not to think, but pain mixed with anger coursed through him.  He was angry at his old man, but he was even more angry at himself.  How could he have been so dumb to think he'd ever be anything but a bum like his old man?  Maybe people like Jess could do things differently, have lots of choices about their future, but people like him would never have a choice. 

His course had been set the moment he was born, and no matter what Jess believed, he knew he would never amount to anything.  He was worthless, just like his old man had always told him, and there was no use even trying to fight it.

When he reached town, he kept his head down and didn't make eye contact with any of the people he passed on the sidewalk.  Hearing a gasp from a woman pushing a stroller, he ducked into an alley.  The day was bad enough, there was no point being the town freak on top of it. 

Reaching the back door of the drug store, he sighed deeply, steeling himself for what he had to do, and then let himself in.  The backroom was empty, but he decided to wait.  There was no need in causing an unnecessary scene by letting people see him looking like that in the store. 

While he waited, he looked around, but when his eyes rested on the shelves of medicine jars, it made the pain in his chest worse and he turned away.

"Marty!  Where have you been?" 

He could tell Mr. Dwyer was angry, and he was glad.  It would make what he had to do easier.  He turned around as Mr. Dwyer approached him but when Mr. Dwyer saw his face, he stopped, his expression changing from anger to shock and back again.

"Who did that to you?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"My old man," Marty muttered, dropping his head.

"Let me get you something for that cut," Mr. Dwyer said, heading for the shelves of medicines.

"I don't need anything," Marty said loudly, stopping him.  "I came to tell you – I came to tell you I'm not coming back," he said, finally forcing it out.  "I'm going to be working somewhere else."  Mr. Dwyer's eyes widened with surprise, but then it was gone, his face smoothing out.

"I see," he said, leaning against the table where he mixed the medicines and crossing his arms over his chest.  His eyes examined Marty with intensity, but his face was impassive.  "Where will you be working?"  Marty was finding it difficult to withstand his fierce gaze, and he dropped his head again.

"For my old man – at the gas station," he mumbled.

"Is that what you want?" Mr. Dwyer asked after a long pause.

"I ain't got no choice.  I gotta pay my old man rent," he replied casually with a shrug, but his chest ached unbearably.

"So you need to work more hours?"

"Yeah," Marty mumbled.

"What about school?"

"I'm quittin'.  I got to."

He heard Mr. Dwyer let out a breath, but he didn't look up.  He didn't need to see the pity in the man's eyes.

"You don't have to work for your – father," Mr. Dwyer said, stumbling over the last word.  "I can give you more hours."

"No, sir," Marty said firmly, lifting his head.  "You already have Mrs. Schmidt.  You can't afford to pay both of us."

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" Mr. Dwyer said loudly, anger flashing in his eyes as he dropped his arms and stepped forward.  "You don't know that!" 

"I ain't taking a handout because you feel sorry for me!" Marty retorted angrily.  "I can take care of myself!"

Mr. Dwyer breathed deeply while he opened and closed his mouth, and then he let out a deep sigh, his body visibly relaxing and his face smoothing out again.

"Look, son.  You don't know this, but Mrs. Schmidt has wanted to work less.  I asked her to wait until you graduated and could take on more hours.  You're a hard worker, the best I've had in long while.  There's a job here for you, son.  It's been yours." 

Marty opened his mouth and then closed it, stunned into silence.

"I can't keep this place running forever," Mr. Dwyer continued.  "Eventually I'll have to pass it on to someone, and with my boy gone –."  He stopped and cleared his throat as he looked away.  When he faced Marty again, his eyes were shiny.  "I've been thinking on it for while now.  I want you to take this place over for me.  Will you stay on, son?"

Marty swallowed hard.  He'd never had any idea Mr. Dwyer had considered giving him the drug store.  For the first time since the previous night when his world had come crashing down around him, he felt a faint spark of hope.  But then doubt creeped back.  Don't be stupid, a voice in the back of his head warned.  And then it suddenly became clear that it would never work.

"Without schooling, I'll never be able to –," he started, but Mr. Dwyer interrupted him.

"Let's cross that bridge when the time comes.  We've got quite a few years to work something out.  Is it a deal son?" he asked, holding his hand out for Marty to shake.

Marty hesitated.  Wasn't this another instance of him getting his hopes up only to have the rug pulled out from under him?  It couldn't possibly be as easy as Mr. Dwyer made it seem.  But then he looked in Mr. Dwyer's eyes and saw something he'd never seen in his old man's eyes – Mr. Dwyer believed in him. 

"Yes, sir.  It's a deal," he answered, taking his hand and Mr. Dwyer shook it firmly.

"Good job, son!  Good job!" he said smiling, and Marty returned the smile, feeling infinitely better.

****

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!  This is a huge game changer for Jess and Marty since their plans to go to college have been squashed.  Even though Mr. Dwyer has saved Marty's future from being completely wretched, it's still going to be grim without him being able to complete high school.  What do you think of Mr. Dwyer's decision?  And what do you think will happen with Marty and Jess?  If he can't go to college, will she leave without him?  I can't wait to hear what you think!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!  I've always felt I have the very best readers and your kind words and comments make my day, every single day.  If you've been voting for the chapters, THANK YOU!  Your continued support means more to me than you will ever know.

The photo is 17 year old Johnny Crawford (wearing his cowboy hat from the TV show The Rifleman) aka Marty.  The video is The Twist by the great Chubby Checker.  When he appeared on Dick Clark's show in August 1960, the song and the dance became a national sensation.  Dedicated to @OwainGlyn, a fellow ambassador, reader, and all around great guy.  If you enjoy poetry, you should check out his works.