Chapter Thirty-eight

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

[ ADDITIONAL WARNING FOR YOUR BENEFIT: By now you know that the following characters, locals, events and situations are strictly imaginary in nature, and should be taken with a grain of sel or salt]

A Little Bit of AnderRomance

Part VI

“Dance The Night Away”

O
nce we had mange-ed (eaten) our way through all twelves courses of Chef Le Rond’s amazing cuisine francaise, including dessert, and consumed numerous bouteilles (bottles) of ‘gourmet’ sparkling water, we were ready for a nap—but Andy had other plans when he rose to his feet and announced,

"My fairest jeunes filles,”—Andy was speaking more and more French as the night went on—“Please put your hands together now to give your warmest welcome to Fifi Moulard, French danseuse, all the way from the famous Moulin Rouge in the heart of uptown Montmartre, in belle Pareeee. . . ."

And at that precise moment, as if on cue, which of course it was, Jacques Offenbach's Can-Can music from his operetta, Orpheus in the Underground blared out the very familiar,

DA! da, da, da ,da , DA, DA, DA ,da, da, da . . ."

and Fifi, herself came flying into the hall by leaps and bounds, yelling the Can-Can scream at the top of her lungs. As she flew through the air, she flashed the yellow-ruffled underside of her teal-colored, satin can-can skirt for all the world to behold. And behold he did!—yes, Andy’s eyes lit up like the National Christmas Tree on the White House lawn every December, and he began stomping his feet and clapping his hands in time to the lively music.

Fifi knew she had caught Andy’s attention, so twirling and leaping her way towards him, her long flame-red hair flying as she pirouetted, she grabbed the hem of her circular skirt, and lifting it aloft, shook it with all her might. After which she began circling her right foot high off the ground while jumping up and down on her left one. Then she kicked her long leg, sheathed in a black fishnet stocking, high into the air over Andy’s head, punctuating it with another Can-Can scream, as her full skirt brushed across his face. At this point, she plunked her high-heeled foot down on the table in front of Andy, and “snapped” her ruffled, thigh-high garter right in his face. It startled Andy—however, he grinned and grinned and then giggled and giggled, as she hugged his head and rubbed his hair all over with her French hands.

Then flying out on the floor once again, she executed some more pirouettes, several successive hand springs and a couple of cart wheels, and with each one, the Can-Can scream, finally landing on the floor in the splits. But just as quickly, she was back on her feet again, taking a backward bow as she flipped her skirt up and over her backside, just as the music was resolving it’s last note.

This was French dancing at it’s finest. Andy knew that, and just ate it up. He clapped, and whistled and yelled,

“Bravo, FiFi, bravo, bis, bis!”

which, translated means . . . “Wow! this is really great stuff!”

However, no one else recognized the greatness of her creative efforts with any kind of response—except Klementine, when she started hissing. Soon Julia joined in and then everyone did, but me. The only thing I wanted to do at that point was wrap that ruffled garter around her long French neck at least ten or twelve times.

As Fifi glanced around at everyone hissing, she smiled sweetly and said in her best English,

“Zeece eez Americaine custom, non? Zeece heeesing. I LUFF eeet! Eeet eez zeee jolie custom!”

And she grinned from ear to ear. Then she took Andy’s head between her hands and keee-ced it. After which she plunked her big red lips on his mouth, and then ripped off another Can-Can scream. And the little brown mole, just above her lip on the right side, was dancing up and down as she talked, like it too was doing the Can-Can.

“Ah, Fifi, ma petite,” Andy fawned, bubbling over with enthusiasm, “we appreciate your magnifique Can-Can talents! They have brought us sooo much enjoyment this evening . . . all the way from fabulous France. We can never thank you enough! Isn’t that right, girls?”

He looked over at us for verification, but met only glares.

“O, monsieur . . . but, of course, you are tuuuuuu kind, but pleeeeezzzz, while I am heeeer in your countreee, could yuuu call meeee, Phoenix? I luff that name. Peeeepols call me zat whenever I come heeeeer. ”

“O, mais oui, bien sur, (yes, but of course) we can call you, Phoenix, can’t we girls?” And once again he glanced around for our affirmation, but this time was met with collective hissing of which, I was now a part. We hissed and hissed and hissed—loudly. And Mademoiselle Phoenix beamed like a light house.

“You luff meeee . . . you rrreeely luff me!” she cooed, wrapping her arms around herself to demonstrate that luff. Her French eyes met each of ours in acknowledgment of our hissing approval, and then she blew French kisses out to all of us, and said,

“I am soooo . . . how you saaay? . . .‘appy . . . sooo touch-ed by all of zeees!”

At that Andy broke into applause and we all hissed even louder.


After Mademoiselle Phoenix left, Andy stood up and announced that we would be entertained with three more special acts, including some selected Japanese videos, including, Seamanship. AND then, the Piece de Resistance . . . of the entire evening, which stopped the heart of every woman in that room—he would dance with each and every lady there, even if it took all night.

A collective gasp was heard around the table, as everyone realized what that meant—being in Andy's arms! Mysticspiral’s head hit the table when she lost consciousness, just after his announcement. Andy had to carry her out. Later I saw the bruise on her forehead. It was a nasty thing—but it did blend nicely with her eye shadow.

As soon as the entertainment ended, which couldn’t end soon enough for most of us—Andy played Seamanship eleven times—everyone made a mad dash to one of the six bathrooms to re-apply any make-up necessary to restore their beauty, and to floss any green parsley leaves from their teeth.

An hour later, when the Anderladies returned from all their intensive repair work, the music playing at that moment was, The Way You Look Tonight.

I could sense the excitement afloat as I heard them now discussing who Andy would choose first. Everyone felt that ‘she’ would be first, but I knew in my heart it was I who would be his very first choice. There was no doubt! I felt it! I was ready for it. I was waiting. My heart wasn’t waiting, however—it had already started skipping beats and the butterflies were ahead of schedule, too, as I thought about being in Andy’s powerful, yet gentle arms.

Ally leaned my way and asked,

“Who do you think will be first?”

As I glanced at her anxious eyes, so full of expectation, I knew I couldn’t very well tell her that it was . . . ME.

“Ally,” I lied, “I think it will be you!”

A little squeal escaped her lips, and her eyes sparkled with exhilaration as my words touched her soul. “REALLY? . . . DREAMY!”, she gushed.

Dang! I thought, maybe she should be first. I’d hate to see her disappointed. Okaaaay, I said to myself, Andy can ask her first. But I’m next!

However, after the lights were lowered, and Julio Iglesias had started singing, To All Girls I’ve Loved Before, Andy walked straight to Mzh, and taking her hand in his, led her out on the dance floor where he slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her close and the two of them began dancing.

I looked at Ally—she looked at me.

“Okay . . . I was wrong,” I admitted, feeling the disappointment in her eyes.

She didn’t say anything. She was biting her bottom lip, in a stoic kind of way, trying not to let that little petite sob slip out, the one I could see her body was trying to eject. And her eyes seemed to have more fluid than could be considered normal if one wasn’t just about to cry.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said in a quick attempt to soften the letdown, “but let’s look at it this way. Maybe he wanted to get this dance over with first because, with her out of the way, he could concentrate his efforts on you. But she wasn’t buying it. She looked out on the dance floor at Mzh in Andy’s arms. A little tear made it’s way to the surface, and finally escaped, running down her delicate pink cheek. I put my arm around her shoulder.

“It’s all right . . . he didn’t ask me first, either,” I comforted. Then my little tear slipped out, too.

As the first dance ended, we all held our breath once again. At least I figured everyone was holding her breath. I was—Ally was. I crossed both my fingers. It just had to be Ally this time . . . come on Andy, pick Ally. But he didn’t! I heard Ally’s disappointed sigh. I heard mine, too.

This time he took Barbara’s hand, her left hand, and as he did so I noticed a flash of something there. I hadn’t noticed it during the day when she was working. Later when I questioned her about it, she waved a huge solitaire diamond ring in front of my eyes and said,

“Look, Ellee, isn’t it gorgeous?”

I gasped at it’s size and beauty. My heart sank. Had Andy given it to her for Valentine? But she allayed my fears instantly when she said,

“George has asked me to marry him!”

I threw my arms around her and hugged her, saying, “Oh, Barbara, I AM SO HAPPY for you and George!” And for me, I thought, since it was George who had given her that diamond—not Andy.

Harriet had helped her clean the asperges from her gown, just after the rat dance mishap, and as she and Andy moved to the music, the airy white chiffon gave the appearance of rolling white foam on an undulating wave. Awesome!

Sissy was next in Andy’s arms, where she looked all too comfortable. She was wearing a knee-length beige A-line shirt with matching silk blouse, and a single strand of lustrous pearls. She and Andy were talking freely and obviously enjoying themselves. They are just good friends, and I hoped it would stay that way—friends. She’s always calling him on the phone to report what’s happening to the house out in Quoque. And every time she comes into town, she and Andy have lunch together. But . . . but . . . they’re only friends . . . just friends . . . friends, I assured myself. Then why does that bother me? I wondered, as I watched them dancing together . . . closely! But DANG, it just did!

Jen and Jennifer, the twins were next. Andy asked them both to dance at the same time because they are twins and hadn’t been separated much. Personally, I would have rather had Andy’s arms all to myself, if I were them. But who knows? I’m NOT a twin, so I guess I just don’t understand things like that. It seemed to work out well, as far as the dancing went—the three of them didn’t miss a step. And I suppose they’ve had to share everything all their lives.

After that it was Martell’s turn, but with that tight dress of hers, they couldn’t do much dancing, mostly just swaying. That bothered me, also.

Next, Robin and of course, Gizzy. I wasn’t sure if Andy even noticed the cat under her hair as they danced..

And when it was Purple Tie’s turn, Andy walked up to where she was sitting, and stood there for a few seconds, staring into her eyes, which by that time had begun fluttering. And the longer his gaze remained on her, the more fluttering there was. Until finally, Andy reached for that purple tie she was wearing, and began walking backwards, pulling Purple Tie along with him to the dance floor, his eyes never leaving hers. They both appeared mesmerized.

By that time I was really mad! How could he do this to me? Why was he doing this to me? Didn’t he know he was breaking my valentine heart? And why hadn’t he asked me to dance? I should have been his very first dance!—I should have been his only one. Annnnnndy!

And THEN came Julia—I was feeling more and more wounded each time he took someone else in his arms—I wanted to be there. Not some other woman . . . who couldn’t possibly care for him as much as I do! DANG! DANG! DANG! AND now JULIA! What right did she have to be dancing with Andy? She could have turned him down!!! Why didn’t she turn him down?!!! I wanted to hiss at her, then. In fact, when I looked out at her . . . from my seat . . . where I was SITTING and NOT dancing with Andy, to where she was . . . in Andy’s arms, AND dancing, I DID begin hissing, and she could see that I was hissing! With defiance AND victory written in her eyes, she sent a coy little smile my way in return, and then looked up at Andy as they turned and dipped and swayed together in that disgusting dance they were preforming out there in the middle of that floor for all the world to see. Ahhhhack!

At this point I knew I was becoming far too upset and had to do something. So I got up to storm out of there, but Ally pulled me back, saying,

“Ellee . . . get a grip! He’ll ask us to dance. We weren’t first, or second or even third or fourth. But he has to ask us to dance at some point tonight. Right? He did say that he was going to dance with all of us, even if it took all night.”

So, I took a deep—a very deep— breath, and admitted she was right. But I still felt hurt and betrayed. Why was I feeling this way? I knew early on he would be dancing with everyone there, and yet . . . and yet. . . ohhhhhh . . . Andy, Andy, Annnnnnndy.

When the music stopped—which just happened to be, Heart Break, by The Tear Jerks, Andy took Julia back to her seat and THEN seemingly headed straight for Ally and me. My heart stopped. Which one of us might he have in his sights? I prayed it was me, but hoped for Ally’s sake, it was her. She grabbed my hand and squeezed; I squeezed back. We looked at each other and held our breath.

“See, what did I just tell you? Oh, Ellee, I hope he’s coming for you!”

But then, Andy walked right on past us, not stopping until he was in front of Kezeela. He looked down at her and smiled one of his most disarming smiles as he offered his hand. I heard Kezeela gulp. I think Andy heard her, too, because he winked at her then. Which didn’t really help at all—it only made things worse. At that moment I could see she was well on her way to becoming completely unglued. But Andy lifted her from the chair, and with his arm around her for support, walked her to the dance floor, while the music was playing, “Love Can Make You Funny,” by The Three Henchmen.

As they danced, the intensity of Andy’s gaze finally proved all too much for her, for all at once she fell limp in his arms, having gone out like a light bulb whose filament had just gone twang, and snapped in two. But Andy caught her before she hit the floor, and carried her off to wherever he had been carrying the Andergals who had passed out during the evening.

Meg Hanks was his next dance partner. Ally and I wondered if Meg, once installed in Andy’s arms, would succumb to his animal magnetism, like so many others during the evening. She seemed to do well, however,—while dancing, but when she sat down after the dance, she went into a definite swoon— or rather a state of near euphoric rapture, and had to be hauled out of the room after all.

Andy’s time out room was filling up fast! He just has a way of accumulating women like that. Ally and I wondered if we, too, would end up there in his collection.


After that, Andy danced with Xtina, whom I was definitely worried about, since she has a prior record of losing consciousness. And it wasn't even two minutes into the dance when my fears proved correct. She had no sooner found herself enclosed by those Ander-arms, than she just faded away, and had to be added to his growing pile of comatose Anderwomen.

There were five of us Andy still hadn't asked to dance: Klementine, Mizzkel, Mysticspiral, Ally and of course, me. I know each of us was wondering, What's wrong with me? Why hasn't he asked me? But I knew why. We were just wallflowers—growing on a stone wall somewhere, at the side of a road, unnoticed, left in the dust, thirsting in the sun, no chance for a dance. DANG!

But then, Andy came along that road and picked Klementine. And after Klem, he picked Mizzkel, and finally Mysticspiral. BUT did he bother to pick little Ally or me. Nooooooooooo! He didn't even see these two needy little wallflowers!

Okaaaay . . . so maybe it really wasn't like that at all! Maybe I 'm just exaggerating. Maybe he saw us. Well . . . alright, he did see us. Right after his dance ended with Mysticspiral he saw us ,and started walking our way, and since there just wasn’t anyone else left for him to ask, it had to be one of us. I leaned over and whispered in Ally’s ear,

“Here you go, girl! He’s coming for you!”

“No, Ellee, he’s coming for you!”

“Oh, Ellee,” she said, breathless, “I’m scared to death! What if he is coming for me?”

The poor girl was shaking. But I was, too. What if he weren’t coming for me? I knew it would break my poor heart, yet one more time. That would mean I was the last of the least and the least of the last.

When his feet finally stopped, it was right in front of both Ally and me. I couldn’t tell which of us he was going to pick, until I looked up and saw the sparkling blue of his eyes fall on me—HE HAD COME FOR ME! My failing heart flipped in panic. I would be in HIS arms in literally just seconds! I was feeling weak at that moment. But then, just when I could almost hear him saying, Ellee, would you do me the honor of this dance? I heard him say,

“Ellee, would you mind checking on Molly? She’s in my room.”

WHAT? Wh . . . wh . . . what about our dance, Andy? . . . Andy ?. . . And I watched as he offered his hand to Ally, and the two of them walked off together, and left me there—alone, like the little wallflower that I was—une toute petite giroflee. The very last flower on that wall! And all the little larmes (tears) falling from my eyes as I walked away, were enough to sweep away that stone wall altogether.

When I opened the door to see about Molly, I found her crying, too, because she was locked up in Andy’s room. So I sat with her for a few minutes and we cried together. But I knew once the music stopped, the dance with Ally would be over, and Andy would be looking for me. THEN IT WOULD BE MY TURN—I mean . . . right?—there was no one else left to dance with, BUT ME! He would have to ask me!

So I hurried back just before the music ended. As I seated myself, I watched Andy bringing Ally back—and he was looking right at me! This was it!! Finally, my turn! Then a wonderful thought came into my mind—Maybe he had saved the best until last. That just made my heart sing! I was sooo excited, I was already getting out of my chair to meet him—face to face. I could just feel his arm slipping around my waist and gently pulling me along with him as we made our way to the place where he would wrap me up in his arms, and draw me sooo close I would be able to feel his beating heart—in fact our two hearts would beat in unison as we felt the music . . . BUT when he opened his mouth to say, Ellee, may I have this dance?, he didn’t say that at all! In fact, his words didn’t even come close. What he said was,

"Is Molly okay?"

. . . NO! Molly’s NOT okay, and NEITHER AM I ! My heart cried out.

And then, he turned his back on me, directing his attention to the rest of the Andergaggle, telling them what a wonderful evening it had been, and thanked them all for coming. At that point, the music once again broke into, "Love, Love Will Keep Us Together," and everyone clapped and cheered and crowded around Andy, pushing me out of the way, into the background . . . far away . . . far, far away . . . where little wallflowers just wither and die.


Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee