The Fulfillment by Lavyrle Spencer Page B

and Aaron. What could she say? The Bohemian women jumped at the chance to glean any gossip they could. This aspect of them had always irritated her.
    She was holding her irritation in check but running out of answers when both of the women clapped their mouths shut, like school books at the ring of the afternoon bell. Without needing to turn around, she knew why.
    From behind her she heard his voice greeting the two women and asking where the men were. But the men were coming back to the table with glasses and bottles, and it was natural that Aaron was established as a member of their party.
    It was the custom at a Bohemian dance for the music to be played in sets of four or five songs, all of the same rhythm. Thus, when the band began with a polka and the two neighbor couples went onto the floor, Mary knew it would be a while before they rejoined the table. It was also a custom that once a couple began a set they would not change partners until the set ended. Sometimes, however, two couples would interchange partners in midfloor as the gaiety picked up and the dancing became less inhibited.
    The floor was aswarm with people, but miraculously all moved in one direction, flowing in a smooth circle as the agile dancers cranked their heads this way and that, checking their course as they spun. Once the polka started, no talk was necessary, sometimes not even possible, with the thumping noise all around them.
    Mary was grateful for it. She and Aaron sat at the table alone. They could feel more than hear when the bottles and glasses of other spectators came alive in their hands, clacked onto the tabletops in rhythm with the band and the pounding feet. Mary’s lemon soda bottle bobbed along with the others, and, listening to it, she began feeling the tension ease away from her body. When the set ended, the steaming dancers returned to their tables and glasses were drained and refilled. More soda bottles appeared. When the new set began, she was asked to dance. Each set gave way to another, and stamping feet pounded the evening on toward midnight.
    That night, Aaron chose to drink strawberry soda instead of beer. Beer sounded good, but when he got tight, even slightly, the first thing he wanted was a woman. To be on the safe side, he stuck to soda.
    Priscilla was on the dance floor every set, and between sets she seemed surrounded by a crowd of people younger than himself. He danced with some of the women from his table, other girls he knew casually, but he avoided dancing with Mary. When he wasn’t dancing, he stood much of the time in the taproom, drinking soda andvisiting with whoever was there, for it was always crowded, and everyone knew everyone else. While leaving the taproom he passed Willy Michalek, who was on his way in. On impulse, he tapped Michalek’s shoulder and asked, “You mind if I ask your date for a dance?”
    Willy shrugged and replied, “Long as it’s not the last set.”
    Aaron approached Pris and asked without preliminary, “Want to dance, Pris?”
    She barely looked up at him as she replied, “Not with you, Aaron. Sorry.”
    There were others around them, and he could tell by her attitude that she was having fun. He could hardly stand there and try to convince her. Nor could he take her forcibly onto the dance floor. All he could do was bow out gracefully, which he did, and then stand with a group of stags.
    When the music stopped, he moved with a surge of people to where one of the men had just asked Mary for the next set. Jonathan wasn’t in sight. At that moment, Joe Shymek wielded his concertina and announced that it was the last set of the evening. Mary’s partner turned apologetically to her and explained, “Oh, Mary, I’m sorry, but my wife will be looking for me, since this is the last set.” Not wanting to leave her standing there on the edge of the floor while he hurried to find his wife, the fellow asked, “Where’s