Juba! by Walter Dean Myers Read Free Book Online

having the auditions,” Lilly said. “Mr. Reeves, Juba is one of our best dancers. You’ll like him a lot.”
    I reached out my hand to Mr. Reeves, but he didn’t reach out his hand to me. That was okay. He didn’t know me yet, or what I could do on the floor.
    I went and sat with Jack Bishop and Stubby and told them that the man next to Pete was Reeves.
    â€œAnd the other man is a lawyer named Louis Browner,” Jack said. “He’s involved in the slave trade somehow.”
    â€œHe don’t look like it,” Stubby said.
    That was a funny thing to say and not a funny thing to say. On the one hand, how was someone involved in the slave trade supposed to look? On the other hand, it just pointed out that anyone could be a slave trader.
    â€œLet’s watch this act coming up,” Jack Bishop said.
    Two young white fellows and two girls came out onto the floor. The fellows wore blouselike white shirts and black pants, and the girls wore white blouses and black and green skirts. They looked good.
    Just before they started, I glanced over at where Mr. Reeves and Pete were sitting. I didn’t like the idea of John Diamond sitting there. Had they already hired him?
    The piano player started in on a lively tune, and the four dancers on the floor began their routine. It was nothing specialexcept for the fact that the expressions on their faces looked as if they were having a great time. Their rhythm was right on cue, but it was simple and their steps were even simpler. They danced for a good three minutes and then went into a nice ending bow. Again, nothing special.
    â€œNumber eight!” John Diamond called out.
    I looked at my number even though I knew it was twelve, my lucky number.
    Number eight was tall and slim. He came out in a step dance but quickly went down into a full split, then a scissors lift to a standing position, back to the step moves, then down on his hands. I thought he was going to push himself up, but he only pushed halfway up, then swung his leg around, got his arms out of the way, and brought his legs full circle. Nice, but the guy wasn’t a dancer, he was an acrobat.
    For the next minute or so the fellow showed how strong he was and how agile, but when I glanced over at Mr. Reeves, I saw he was already looking away.
    â€œNine!” John Diamond again.
    Nine was a sweet-looking girl, maybe eleven or twelve, with red fringe that came almost down to her eyebrows. She went to the middle of the floor and didn’t move, even after the piano player started playing. An older woman, maybe her mother, went out on the floor, nervously patted the girl on the shoulder, and whispered something in her ear. The piano player startedup again and the girl still didn’t move, but I could see she was breathing hard. The mother started out on the floor again, but then the girl began to dance. She was into a regular jig pattern, then changed it to a clog pattern, then switched it back and forth as gracefully as you pleased. It wasn’t sensational, but it was good.
    â€œIf she don’t have seven babies before she’s nineteen, she’ll be a good entertainer,” Jack whispered to me.
    When the girl finished, a few people started clapping, and after Mr. Reeves stood up and gave her a hand, everyone joined in.
    â€œTen!” Ten was a light-skinned black man with sandy hair. He started doing a reel, with a little too much spinning, and Mr. Reeves stood up and called to the piano player to stop.
    â€œAre you colored, or what?”
    â€œI’m colored,” the dancer said.
    Mr. Reeves sat back down, and the piano player started again.
    â€œThat piano player know what to play for you?” Stubby asked me.
    Panic. “Stubby, go tell him to play ‘Old Rattler’clog when I dance,” I said. “Wait until this fellow is finished.”
    As soon as the dancer was finished and bowing, Stubby went over to the piano player and