Shall We Dance?

Peter was sixty-eight, and he retired from the post office that spring. His daughter was worried about him. "Why don't you try something new, Dad?" she said. "How about a dance class?" Peter laughed, but a week later he was standing in a tango class in Brisbane.

The teacher was Gloria, a small, energetic woman from Buenos Aires. "Welcome!" she said. "Tango is easy. You walk, and you listen. Shall we start?" Peter walked. He didn't listen. He stepped on Gloria's foot twice in the first song.

"Shall we try again?" Gloria said, smiling. "How about a slower song?" They tried again. Peter stepped on her foot again. "Let's take a break," said Gloria, and she went to look for some ice.

Peter wanted to stop, but Gloria didn't let him. Every Tuesday she had a new idea. "Why don't we practice with your eyes closed?" "Let's count out loud." "How about dancing with the music off?" Slowly, very slowly, Peter started to listen.

In December there was an end-of-term show. Peter's daughter was in the first row. When the music started, Gloria whispered, "Shall we dance?" Peter took her hand.

They danced for three minutes. Peter didn't step on anybody's foot. When the song finished, the room was quiet for a second, and then everybody clapped. "Not bad for a postman," said Gloria. "Same time next year?" "Why not?" said Peter.