"Just relax, Catherine. Relax and let's have a good old time of it, no?"

Mama closed her eyes as the truck bounced and swayed, but I had grown very nervous.

The Crab House was a restaurant with a big ballroom in the rear. In it there was a small stage for the musicians who played the accordion, the fiddle, the triangle, and guitars. This fais dodo was one of the most popular of the year. People were streaming in and out the front door, and we could hear the zydeco music as we pulled into a parking space. Cajuns brought their whole family to dances like this. A room was set aside in the Crab House for the small children, many of whom would fall asleep while their parents danced or played bourre.

When we entered, there were those who knew Mama and were surprised and happy to see her attend. Many of them used the opportunity to complain about one physical ailment or another and get her advice. A number of Daddy's friends were gathered around the beer barrel, drinking and sucking on crawfish. I saw Jed Atkins wave to him and then saw Jed coax a tall, slim young man forward.

"Come on, Gabrielle," Daddy said. "I'd like you to meet Virgil."

Reluctantly, with Mama flashing warnings and disapproval my way, I walked alongside Daddy. He and Jed shook hands vigorously, and Jed handed him a cup of home brew.

"Hello there, Gabrielle," Jed Atkins said, turning to me. "You sure grow'd into a fine young lady since I seen you last."

"I saw you just a few weeks ago, monsieur."

"Oh, yeah? Must've been a little under the weather. Don't recall." He laughed. "This here's my brother's boy, Virgil," he said, pulling him forward.

Half of Virgil Atkins's left cheek was covered with a patch of cardinal red skin, the ridges in it lifted slightly. He had dark eyes, a thin nose, and dark brown hair, the strands unevenly cut just below his earlobes. His lips were thin, too, resembling a stretched-out rubber band.

"Hello," he said. He sipped some beer.

"Well, ain'tcha going to ask her to dance, Virgil? If I were your age, I would," Jed said. "I used to do a mean two-step when I was younger," he added.

"Sure. You wanna dance?" He had a silly, soft smile, impish like a boy who liked to tease.

I gazed back at Mama, who was watching us while two elderly ladies jabbered in both her ears.

"I think I'll have something to eat and drink first," I said diplomatically.

"Fine. Go fetch her a plate, Virgil. Show her you got manners," Jed said. "These dances are more for you young people than for us old coots," he added, looking at me.

"Right," Virgil said. "Everything's better on a full stomach." Daddy and Jed laughed. Virgil and I walked toward the food.

"I'll getcha a bowl of gumbo," he said, elbowing in between two young boys. After he got us the food, he nodded toward an empty table. "I could getcha a beer."

"No. I'll just have a lemonade," I said.

"Don'tcha drink? All the young girls I know drink these days," he said with a wry expression.

"No," I said.

"You go to a lot of dances?"

I shook my head. He scooped the gumbo into his mouth quickly, his eyes fixed on me.

"You're a pretty girl," he said. "My uncle told me your daddy been keepin' you hidden away." He flashed that small smile again.

"No one's keeping me hidden away," I said sharply. He laughed.

"Why ain'tcha got a steady boyfriend then?"

"I did have," I lied, "but he had to go into the army."

"Oh?" His smile evaporated. "Uncle Jed didn't say anything about that."

"Not everyone knows. He writes me a letter every day." "Where's he at?"

"I don't know. It's a secret."

He gazed at me suspiciously and drank some more of his beer. Then he smiled with confidence again, as if he had concluded I was making it all up.

"If I get up and get me another beer, will you still be here when I get back?" he asked.

"I haven't finished eating yet," I replied, which satisfied him.

I was nearly finished by the time he returned. He had brought me a glass of beer, too.

"Just in case you change your mind," he said.

"I don't like beer."

"Oh? Whatcha like, wine?"

"Sometimes."

He nodded. "You look like a girl who has rich tastes. Betcha that's why you're still not married, huh? You're waiting for a rich catch?"

"No. Money has nothing to do with it."

He laughed, skeptically. I felt sparks of anger catch in my chest and send a heat through my body.

"I'd like to return to the dance hall," I said, rising.

"Okay. I ain't the best dancer in the world, but I'm as good as most."

I froze for a moment. I hadn't meant I wanted to dance with him, but he obviously had taken it that way.

"You wanna dance, don'tcha?"

"Okay," I said. My tongue was so reluctant to form the word, I almost choked, but I got up and went on the dance floor with him. When I looked over toward Daddy and Jed Atkins, I saw them grinning from ear to ear. Mama, who was standing with some of her friends nearby, glared in their direction, the sparks flying out of her eyes. Daddy ignored her.

The truth was, Virgil wasn't a bad dancer, and I did enjoy the music. He took it as a sign I was comfortable with him and liked him.

"I play a mean washboard," he shouted into my ear, and laughed. "Me and some friends get together at the garage and fool around. We played for a fais dodo once."

"That's nice," I said. The music got louder and faster. Virgil started to sweat profusely. He unbuttoned his shirt and gulped some more beer.

"Let's get some air," he cried finally. I was going to excuse myself and join Mama, but she was into a heavy conversation with two of her friends and had her back to me, and I couldn't think of a good excuse. "Come on, let's have a smoke."

"I don't smoke," I said.

"So you'll watch me." He took my hand and I went out with him, looking back once to see Jed Atkins pat Daddy on the back and the two of them toast each other.

We went out the rear door into the parking lot. Virgil dug a pack of cigarettes out of his top pocket and pounded one out. He lit it quickly and threw the match into the air, laughing.

"Bombs away. So you like living here?"

"Yes," I said.

"I got my car right here. Wanna see it? I souped up the engine myself." He pointed to a customized automobile with a lightning streak painted in yellow across the driver's side. "It's a drag car, you know."

"I don't know much about cars."

"Whatcha think of it?"

"It's nice," I said with thick indifference.

"Nice? It's more than nice. It's a prizewinning vehicle. You know, I won five hundred dollars in races already this year?"

"I'm very happy for you," I said. "I think we better go back inside." I started to turn toward the door when he reached out to seize my wrist.

"You're very happy for me? Boy, you're sure stuck on yourself, ain'tcha?"

"I am not."

"You sound like you are." He flipped his cigarette into the air and it bounced over the parking lot, sparks flying every which way. He still held my wrist. "Whatcha want to hurry back inside for? Just a lot of old people and kids. Come on, I'll take you for a spin in my car."

"No, thank you."

"No, thank you," he mimicked, laughed, and then he put his left arm around my waist and drew me to him before I could resist. He pasted his lips to mine with a wet kiss as his hand fell to my buttocks and squeezed. I struggled to free myself, but he held on tighter, pressing his tongue into my mouth with such force, I couldn't even block it with my teeth. I gagged and finally broke free, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.

"How dare you do that?"

"What's the big deal? You've been kissed before, ain'tcha?"

"Not like that and not without my wanting to be kissed."

He laughed. "Don't put on airs. I know all about you, how you was pregnant with someone else's baby," he added. I felt the breath leave my body and my blood drain down to my feet. "It's all right. I don't care about it. I still like you. The truth is, I learned it's better to have a woman already broke in. Learned that in the army. We'll go for a ride and get to know each other and maybe we'll get hitched. Come on," he urged, stepping toward his car.

"I wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on earth," I said.

He laughed. "For you, I might just be. Once everyone knows about you, no one's going to come around asking you to marry him. You wanna be livin' with your ma and pa till they got no teeth? I can make you happy. Better than that other man did," he added with a leering smile.

"You're disgusting," I said, and pivoted.

"Last chance," he called, "to have a real man."

I didn't reply. I couldn't get away from him fast enough. When I stepped back into the dance hall, I looked desperately for Mama and spotted her talking to Evelyn Thibodeau's mother. She took one look at me and excused herself quickly to walk across the hall.

"Gabrielle?" she said. "What's wrong, honey?"

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. "Oh, Mama," I said, "he told. Daddy told about me so that boy thought he was doing me a favor to ask me to become his wife."

She straightened as if her spine had turned to steel. When she looked for Daddy, she found he was already well on his way to a good drunk, all his buddies around him, laughing and guzzling beer and whiskey as fast as they could. She and I stood behind him. He stopped laughing and looked around fearfully for a moment.

"We're going home, Jack," she said. "Now!"

"Now? But . . . I'm jus . . . havin' some fun."

"Now," she said again.