#one minute she's just thinking about david and her future in Cutter Gap amd her faith...and then suddenly Neil is more than just a friend

[kopykunoichi]

Christy, by Catherine Marshall. Chapter 35 Excerpt (Part 3)

But Jeb, that natural-born fiddler, was tuning up again. Jeb must like fiddling better than he liked eating, and that was saying a lot. The fiddle whined and cried and sang. “We’re a-goin’ ‘Step Charlie,’ folks,” Uncle Bogg called, dancing a pigeon-wing all by himself in the middle of the floor.

Charlie’s neat and Charlie’s sweet,

And Charlie he’s a dan-dy—

“Circle up, folks . . . Circle up . . . Wimmin on the right.” Dr. MacNeill was instantly at my side, expertly propelling me to the center of the floor.

Over the river to feed my sheep

And over the river, Charlie,

Over the river to feed my sheep

And to measure up my barley.

“La-dies in!” The doctor sang as he swung me:

My pretty little pink,

I once did think I never could do without you . . .

“Gents in! . . . Grab, boys! Grab!” This was fun! I was feeling better and better, warm and tingly. My feet had wings. Overhead strange noises cut into my thoughts, girlish giggling, laughs and squeals. I had not noticed anyone leaving but now I saw that the circle of dancers was noticeably smaller. As if in answer to my unspoken question Dr. MacNeill jerked one thumb to point at the ceiling. “I told you. Ceremony’s beginning. Putting the bride to bed. “All to the cen-ter. Just go!”

Charlie’s neat, and Charlie’s sweet

And Charlie he’s a dan-dy—

Scrape, scrape, scrape over our heads. More giggling and shrieking.

Step . . . step . . . right and left . . . right and left. “You mean really putting the bride to bed—now—with all of us still here?” I asked. “Sure—now.” The girls were trouping down from the loft—without Ruby Mae—and the men made a dive for Will Beck. There was a lot of scuffling, several chairs turned over, while the music went right on. “Git him. Pound him. Sure’s the world, we’ll fix him proper.” “I’m batchin’ it, fellers,” Will yelled from where he had been flattened on the floor and was lying now between the legs of one of his friends. “Didn’t I tell ye? Con-found you��Un-unh!” Will never had a chance. Held roughly by the scruff of his neck, jerked and pummeled, he was already on his way to the loft, tightly wedged in the group of boys. The whole picture was absurd. And then somehow, what was happening to Will and the wedding night scene in the loft receded into the distance. I was caught up in the gleeful harmony beating at my temples, singing in my blood, pulling at my nerves, tinglingly delightful. The doctor danced as naturally as a bird flies or a fish swims. By now I knew that I didn’t even have to think; I could just give myself to his arm around me with assurance. The guiding arm was so sure and firm, the rhythm such a part of my body now that I could almost forget about my feet. It ended too soon. My partner spun me around with a final flourish. As I let my head fall back in a moment of joyous rapture, I met the doctor’s eyes. They glistened with approval—and something else. When I pulled my head back up, his lips brushed my forehead. For a moment his arm stayed firmly behind my back with my body pressed tightly against him. Then he loosened his arm around me and the room spun slightly. Was it the music and the twirling which made me feel this way? A panicky thought chased through my mind. What was happening to me? I was dizzy!

Dr. MacNeill was pulling out a chair for me, then he sat down backwards on one near me, propping his arms on the back of the chair. Fortunately, at that moment, there were new and bawdy noises overhead. The partitions of the cabin were so thin. Cornshuck mattresses were self-advertisers. Inwardly I was wincing and the doctor knew it. “Actually, Christy, you ought to consider something,” he said, never one to lead into a subject delicately. “The mountain attitude towards sex may be more nearly right than society’s attitude—in the warmed-over Victorian tradition. It sure is more realistic. It’s the way things are. Way they were meant to be too. Here in the mountains, folks see sex for pleasure and for procreation. They’re right. Leave out either one, and you’re in trouble.” Well, I was thinking, so maybe there is still a lot of prudery about sex even in the younger set back in Asheville—especially among the girls. But why a lecture on sex to me? I was having trouble meeting the doctor’s level gaze.

With relief I saw David approaching. “Excuse me, Doctor, for interrupting. I’m leaving,” David said to me. “Didn’t want to go without letting you know, Christy. May I take you home?” Suddenly I knew that I very much wanted to go with David. I tried not to sound as eager as I felt. “Yes, thanks. I am ready to go.”