Polkacide by Samantha Shepherd Read Free Book Online Page A

turntable.
"Alcohol?"
    "Meth." Eddie shrugged. "So
needless to say, she's got a few issues. Addiction can be a
bear."
    As a recovering smoker, I
could identify.
    Suddenly, Peg's voice burst
in over the music on the PA. "Okay, everybody! It's time for our
closing theme, recorded by none other than Polish Fly, starring the
one and only Polish Lou! Let's step it up for 'The Polka Prince
Polka!' One, two, three!"
    With that, a familiar song
filled the former activities hall, starting off with a royal
fanfare on trumpet followed by the sound of exploding fireworks.
Then, a wild accordion riff took over, hurtling into a traditional
fast polka arrangement with clarinet accents.
    It had been Dad's theme song
since the Sixties, when he'd written and first recorded it. He'd
closed every performance and radio show with it for the rest of his
career. I was glad Peg was keeping up the tradition.
    As the dancers twirled
ecstatically through Polka Central, whooping and waving their
hankies, Peg darted out of the crowd and dashed straight for us.
Before we could get away, she grabbed Eddie and spun him around
three times, then let him go and headed for me. I tried to duck but
ended up spinning three times with her before she let me go,
too.
    Peg whooped and danced a few
steps by herself, then raised the mic. "That's it for another
edition of Kocham
Taniec , folks! Join us next Saturday and
Sunday for more fabulous polka music and fun the way Polka Lou
intended! The Polish Princess Lottie Kachowski and I wish you a
beautiful day! Piękny dzień!
    "And remember, Kocham Taniec! " She held
the mic out to the crowd, and everyone said the same thing in
unison.
    "I love
dancing!"
    As the crowd erupted in
hooting and applause, Eddie socked my upper arm playfully. "'Polish
Princess,' huh? I like it."
    Peg winked in my direction,
then lifted her gaze to Glynne onstage. Nodding, Peg raised a hand
with all five fingers extended; with a flourish, she flicked one
finger down at a time, counting to zero. Glynne manipulated
controls on the board, and the music faded to silence by the time
Peg had curled all five fingers into a fist.
    With that, the show was
over. It had ended exactly on time; the digital counter atop the
control board read "09:00:00."
    I was impressed. As much as
Peg grated on my nerves, she clearly knew what she was doing when
it came to hosting Kocham Taniec. She hadn't done half bad. Dad had trained her
well.
    Which, I hated to admit,
made an unexpected feeling rise up within me: jealousy. I couldn't believe it, but
I was actually a little jealous of Polish Peg for mastering the
radio show. Not that I'd ever had any interest whatsoever in being
involved with it in any way...but still. It was part of Dad's life,
and Peg was an expert at running it.
    Which brought up another unexpected
emotion, actually. This one was even harder for me to believe.
Never in a million years would I have expected to feel this
way.
    I never would have thought
I'd feel the slightest bit intimidated by obnoxious Polish Peg
with the Clown wig afro and the owl-eye magnifying glasses with the
polka dot red frames.
    But lo and behold, I did.

Chapter 11
     
    After the radio show ended,
Peg looped her arm around mine and led me up the few steps to the
stage. Eddie followed.
    "Of course you've been to
the nerve center of Polish Lou Enterprises, Lottie." Peg patted my
arm and smiled.
    "Of course." It was a lie,
but I said it anyway. I was feeling intimidated,
remember?
    "I'll give you the grand
tour anyway." Peg guided me across the stage past the tables of
equipment. Glynne was working with the reel-to-reel tape recorder,
playing something back, and didn't look up as we passed.
    Peg walked us to the gray
curtain behind the tables and parted a section for us to pass
through. I entered first and took a quick look at my new
surroundings.
    The backstage area was set
up like an office...an incredibly cluttered office. There were four big
desks arranged in a row, all facing