That night, Allan and the boys entered the mess hall wearing their Soul Train clothes. The room was packed with kids dancing to the Sister Sledge song, He’s the Greatest Dancer. Even Allan was dressed up in a groovy mustard turtleneck on loan from Smitty.
“Whose shirt is this, Smelly, I know it’s not yours,” he smelled the shirt.
“It’s clean,” said Smitty, “Don’t worry about it.”
Demarco smelled Allan’s shirt, too: “Wow. It smells great. It’s the fabric softener. It must be.”
“Enough ladies. We’re not at the laundry mat,” Mayhem shut them down.
Allan’s heart pumped with excitement when he spotted Yvette walking towards him. She wore a red dress with a broad white collar, making her neck look especially long. Her earrings were red and round. She looked at her brother in defiance and pulled Allan onto the dance floor, where he was met by Stephanie and a couple of other girls. The boys looked miserable and envious.
“Allan’s been here two days, and he’s already the favorite. I’ve been wanting to dance with that girl since the first grade,” shared Demarco.
“It’s the shirt,” Smitty said, “He smells so good.”
“Maybe it was the boner,” joked Mayhem, “He can have his moment. I’ll crush him tonight at Mumbly Peg, and then we’ll see.”
The music transitioned to Disco Inferno by the Tramps. Allan watched as everyone lined up and paired off on the dance floor. Two by two, couples dance down an open middle lane. Curtis and Cheri danced together, and then Mayhem and Stephanie came in, doing big kicks. Mayhem would kneel, and Stephanie would swing her leg over him. But, after a couple of times, her leg didn’t clear,r and she kicked in the head with her big disco heel. Sending him flat on the floor like a knockout. Stephanie dragged Mayhem off the floor by the ankle before Demarco and Smitty upstaged them by sliding across the floor on their knees.
Allan and Yvette were next. Yvette danced like she was at Studio 54 while Allan was doing some sort of Hava Nagila hora, Russian style, which he learned by attending numerous mitzvahs, both bar and bat. The boys looked at him funny, as they had no idea what Allan was doing.
Curtis approached Allan as he stepped off the dance floor, “Are you wearing my shirt? Yes, this is my shirt!”
Allan turned and looked at Smitty.
“Smitty were you in my suitcase?” Curtis asked.
They all laughed.
“Allan, I want this back in the morning.”
Allan nodded in agreement. Once Curtis was back on the dance floor and the coast was clear, the boys slipped out of the mess hall and ran into the woods until they came to their usual clearing for another match.
“You know why we’re here, Allan. You won last time, so you get to go first.”
Allan removed the knife from his pocket and held it confidently, something Mayhem didn’t witness last time. Allan threw the first knife, which was fast and direct, and landed near Mayhem’s right foot.
“You’ve been practicing. That was pretty good.”
“Worry about yourself,” Allan responded with an unusually tough attitude.
It was Mayhem’s turn. He threw his knife as hard as he could. The blade stuck between Allan’s feet. It scared him momentarily as he realized this game was very real. He threw his knife hard, but it slipped from his hand and flew over the heads of the boys, causing them to drop to the ground in defense.
“Oy!” the boys yelled in unison.
Demarco ran to retrieve the knife.
“Sorry,” said Allan.
Mayhem replied, “Calm down and take a breath, will ya?”
Mayhem took a beat before throwing his knife, and Allan was now very nervous. Mayhem threw his knife. It stuck almost the same place that split Allan’s shoes.
“I won!” Mayhem yelled loud enough for all of Michigan to hear.
“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Allan commented to Demarco.
“I won, so stay away from my sister!”
Allan was bewildered, What was he going to do?