Illusions of Camelot by Peter Boal

Author:Peter Boal
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780825308628
Publisher: Beaufort Books
Published: 2023-05-22T00:00:00+00:00

20 BARCLAY'S BALLROOM CLASSES

Lenora and Vadim Markov lived about twenty miles from Bedford in the working-class town of Peekskill. They drove to the Bedford Golf and Tennis Club on Wednesday nights each fall to teach ballroom dancing classes to select seventh graders whose parents paid handsomely in hopes of refining their unre-fined teenagers. Why they were called Barclay’s Ballroom classes, I don’t know. Perhaps the lingering Cold War prevented the Markovs from choosing to use their surname. The classes were not exclusive for kids from Ripp, but I never saw anyone from any other school there.

The Club boasted a large central pavilion with saffron walls, a black-and-white marble floor and French doors that opened onto a perfectly groomed croquet lawn. Rows of gilded sconces and an elaborate Austrian crystal chandelier suggested a miniature Viennese palace. The space was magical, prompting even slouchy seventh graders to temporarily consider better posture.

Everyone seemed to polish up for Wednesday nights. The guys with saggy pants wore belts and combed unkempt locks. The girls arrived with carefully coiffed hair and painted faces, having just applied makeup for the first time. Their self-conscious smiles suggested each had just caught a glimpse in the mirror of the woman she would become. Hormones were everywhere.

Lenora and Vadim were impeccable, looking as if they had just emerged from the hair salon. Vadim’s Russian-accented voice greeted us. “Velcome, beautiful ladies and handsome gentleman, if you will please take your seats, we can begin tonight’s lesson of zee box step.”

This unleashed a mad scramble as boys ran to the nearest chair to pull it out for a girl. Girls would rush towards the cute guys.

Inevitably, there was shoving and Vadim would interject with his booming yet measured voice. “Ladies, please. Remember to accept zee offer from zee gentleman closest to you and to accept graciously.” He then grabbed a nearby chair and swirled it in a great arc through the air bringing it silently to the floor a few feet from Madame Markova. One suspected he practiced this move repeatedly in his Peekskill apartment while looking in the mirror. A balletic gesture of the hand indicated his invitation for Madame to sit. She watched coyly, seeming genuinely surprised by the invitation, and then placed her hand in his as he guided her to the chair. She sat gently on the edge waiting for him to shuffle it forward an inch for her full weight.

White chairs surrounded the room like a lace trim. They were placed in little quartets with one couple facing another.

Ladies were always seated to the right of the gentlemen. After each dance, the gents offered a chair and a new partner accepted while the lesson continued.

Learning the box step was painful, wrapping one hand around your partner’s waist and still trying to stand as far away as possible was uncomfortable to say the least. Toes were crunched, and eye contact was taboo. By lesson three, we were actually not bad at the Lindy and soon-to-be masters of the foxtrot with a promise of learning the rumba and the hustle.

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