He had thought the best way to go about asking her was to just barge straight ahead and come out with it, and without mentioning Lori’s intervention, of course.

"I don’t think I’d better," she replied, and that seemed to be just about that. There wasn’t anything more to say to her, and the conversation ended quickly.

At school the next day, Lori managed to corner Ken after civics class. "Did you ask her?" she asked.

Ken told her about the short phone call the night before.

"That’s funny," Lori said. "She told me she couldn’t think of anything nicer than to go to the prom with a guy like you."

"Beats me," Ken agreed.

"She probably was too surprised to say yes," Lori said. "Give her a chance to think about it and ask her again."

Ken ran across Judith two or three times during the day. He always had a smile or a cheery "Hi" for her, but usually she just nodded back and turned her eyes away.

While Judith wasn’t saying much, Ken’s surprise phone call of the night before had put her mind into turmoil.

Judith didn’t remember the accident, but she could remember all too much of the years afterward. At first, she could barely feel her legs, much less move them; it had taken a lot of physical therapy to keep them from withering away. The therapy and operations had been agony for the little girl, but had restored some of the feeling and even a little of the control to her legs. But, while doctors and therapists could do a good deal to heal the damage to her body, it seemed her life had been damaged irreparably.

She could remember being a normal little girl, able to run and jump and play. As her battered body had slowly mended over the years, she had been all too aware that all the children she had gone to school with were still normal, still able to be as active as she had once been. It had taken years for her to fully admit that she might never even be able to walk without crutches again.

She could remember the hopes she’d had when she went back to school, that it might mean she would again be a normal person. But, going back to school in a wheelchair and being in a classroom with children who’d been a year behind her taught her that she was now different, and most things would always be different for her.

Her body grew stronger as time went on, but somehow never in a way or enough to be a part of the life that surrounded her. She had grown into a rather pretty girl, slender and with a nice smile – but she never smiled much.

Physical therapy had eventually strengthened her legs enough to get her out of the wheelchair and onto crutches. That opened her life up a bit more, but by then her reluctance to mix with other people more than she had to was simply a part of the way she lived.

She found herself looking at the lives of others as if through a window of impenetrable glass. She could watch, but she couldn’t participate; it seemed hopeless to try.

As she had drawn away from doing things with other people, she had also become distant from them. She didn’t like to admit that she was different from other people, while wishing she could be like them, do things with them. She could share pleasantries with someone like Lori, but not feelings, hopes, or dreams.

When Judith told Lori that she could dream of nothing nicer than going to the prom with someone like Ken, it had been just another dream of being normal that could never come true. As well as any other girl her age, she could imagine the glory of a stunning formal, the romance of dancing until all hours of the night, and just how memorable the occasion could be.

But, she knew in her heart that such a dream could never come to be; there could be no dancing, no excited plans of prom dresses or corsages. There was no point in getting her hopes up; such a thing could never happen to her.

Ken’s call had left her in a state of surprise that left her almost speechless. Her natural reaction had been to avoid the disappointment – but at least she had been asked!

It was at least one little touch of a dream that had become real, one victory scored over her body.

In her dreams that night, she promenaded – on her own two feet – onto the dance floor with Ken at her side, and danced until a ruddy dawn as if there had never been an accident.

Ken felt he owned it to Lori to call Judith back a couple days later. "Just called to see if you’d changed your mind about going to the prom with me."

Judith was even more surprised to get a second offer of a prom date with Ken than she had with the first, and couldn’t help be a bit suspicious. When people took pity on her, they were often toonice to her. "Just why do you want to take me?" she asked.

"Why not?" he stalled, his mind working furiously until it came up with an adequate white lie. "I got to thinking about it. This is a ballroom dance, right? I don’t dance. It makes sense, when you think about it."

The phone was silent in Ken’s hand for a long time before Judith’s voice softly said, "I can’t."

Ken was curious. "Why not?"

She replied, more firmly, now, "You don’t dance. I can’t dance. I don’t expect you to understand, but you have no idea of how out of place I’d feel at the most formal dance of the year."

Ken struggled for something to say. "It’s not like you have to dance," he said uncertainly. "No one would expect you to, anyway."

"That’s not it," she said, surprising herself. "I’m the one who wants to dance. You have no idea of how it would feel to go and not be out on the dance floor. I don’t care how silly I’d look. I know I’m different, and I look silly. If I’m going to a dance, I want to be able to dance."

"All right," he said. This was a spark in her that he had never seen before, and he couldn’t help wondering about it. "You’re going to the prom with me. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but somehow or other, we’re going to dance."

She was silent for a moment. "Let’s just make sure this is going to work," she told him, finally. "Let’s face it. You don’t know how to dance, and even if I could, I don’t know anything about it, either."

"Well, we both get to learn from scratch," he said. "Maybe that’ll help. Maybe you know someone who could give us some ideas."

"It’s possible," she agreed. "I know a physical therapist who might help out. I’m just not sure I’ll be able to go through with this. Until we know this is going to work out, I’d just as soon we didn’t announce it all over school that you and I are going to the prom." The thought dazzled her for a moment. "Wow," she said in a distant voice.

"Huh?"

"I can’t believe I just said that. You and I are actually going to the prom."

By the way," Ken said. "I’ve got a present for you." He handed Judith a box; inside was an orchid corsage that matched her gown perfectly.

It was the rare times like these that made all the operations and therapy seem worthwhile. Judith could even stand without her crutches in sight as her smiling father took picture after picture of her in her elegant prom dress and her date in his rented tuxedo. Someone who didn’t know better would never suspect that her date was holding her close to support and balance her.

She fought to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. It was hard to not believe that this was another one of her dreams of being a normal person, but Ken’s strong arm didn’t feel like a dream.

She brought herself up short. Once again she told herself that tonight she was going to be like a normal person.

All too soon, her mother brought her crutches back to her, and she wanted to cry again. Maybe it was a dream, she thought. The crutches reminded her that she wasn’t like everyone else.

She looked up to see a tear on her father’s cheek. There’d been enough crying in her family over the years to fill Willow Lake, but somehow, she knew this was different. "My little girl is absolutely beautiful tonight," he said to himself as much as to anyone else.

"That you are," Ken agreed.

"Don’t put me on," she said curtly.

"I’m not," he told her. He stepped back to look at her, making sure she knew he was looking, and he wasn’t joking. The crowning glory of her honey-blonde hair cascaded off her bare shoulders, framing her flawless face in a vision of almost unreal loveliness that seemed as if it should have been on a television screen. He didn’t know the words to describe the gown that she was wearing, except to say that it was peach colored, strapless, low cut, floor length, and unbelievably nice.

He did know that Judith and Lori had spent hours searching the stores in Camden, trying on one dress after another in hopes of finding exactly the right one, and he’d never seen Judith as happy as she had been when the two had reported that they had found it.

"You look absolutely stunning," he said, after a marveling look. "I’m proud of you, too."

Ken had decided this was no night for driving his old Chevy. His father had been able to help him out, borrowing a new Cadillac sedan from an old friend in Geneva. Ken had spent the afternoon waxing and polishing the car by way of repayment. He held the door for her as she got in.

"Don’t stay out late and don’t strain yourself," Judy’s mother called out as Ken walked around to the left side of the car.

"I’ll be careful, Mums," the excited girl called as she arranged her crutches at her side.

Over the years, it had become a tradition in Willow Lake for the people going to the prom to meet at a pre-prom banquet. Since the prom was held in a hall in Geneva, the county seat twenty miles away, the banquet was also held there, at Bernetti’s, the nicest restaurant in town."

This was not Judith’s first trip to Geneva with Ken. They had been there three or four times to meet with Beth Mohr, her physical therapist, to work out some methods for dancing, but this was the first time the two had been on what could really be called a date.

In fact, this was the first time she had been out with anyone on what could be called a real date, and Judith was a little nervous. Except for Lori, no one knew she and Ken were going to the prom together, and her excitement was tinged with a little fear of what other people would say.

As the Cadillac sped out of town, Judith pulled herself together. All of a sudden, she realized that she didn’t mind what other people said or thought. She had decided days before that even though it seemed like this couldn’t be happening to her, she was going to make believe it was, and she was no different from any other girl on the night of the prom.

She sat in the car a respectable distance away from Ken, so as not to muss her glorious dress as much as for any other reason, and tried to find something to say, something proper for the occasion, something that wouldn’t break the spell of this special event.

There was always the weather. "It’s such a lovely evening," she said softly.

Ken was not quite as enraptured with the situation as Judith. "Been a bit on the dry side," he said. "We’ve been getting the corn planted pretty good, but we need some moisture in the soil to make it germinate."

"Ken, we’ve known each other for years," she replied, "But I don’t even know where your farm is."

"Out around Arvada Center," he told her. "We’ve got 400 acres of our own, and we lease another 360. It’s mostly grain and beef."

Though Judith lived in the little town and had never had much contact with the surrounding farms, she knew from hearing her father’s conversations what that meant. The Sorensens had a medium-sized farm, big enough to be a full-time operation, but not so big that it demanded hired hands except on rare occasions.

She also knew that she didn’t want to talk about farming; this was a night to enjoy the romance of the occasion. To change the subject, she asked, "Did you tell anyone else you were going to the prom and bringing me?"

Ken shook his head. "No, not even Bob – you know, Bob Watson. Of course, he’s been so surprised that Lori Mattson agreed to go with him that he wouldn’t have heard me if I had told him."

"A lot of people don’t seem to like Bob," she observed. "I’ve often understood how that must make him feel."

Ken smiled to himself; he expected he knew what had made Judith say that. "Did Lori tell you what made her decide to go with him?" he asked, knowing the reason but hoping that it had remained a secret.

"She said she ought to make sure she had a date while she had the chance," Judith reported.

"She’d have had no problem," he told her. "Jennifer Savage kept four different guys hanging until the night before last. I think at least two of them aren’t going at all, now."

"That’s just like her," Judith smiled. "She has to make sure she has the last bit of attention. But think of the poor girl who was asked at the last minute by one of the guys Jennifer stood up."

"I don’t follow you," he said, puzzled.

"Think about it," she said. "First, she thinks she isn’t going to have a date for the prom. Then, she has to scramble around, get her hair done, find a prom dress, and all of those other things, and all the time she knows that she’s a second choice, or even worse."

Ken turned to glance at Judith. She had a vacant look on her face; it was easy to see her imagining she was one in that position. "You’re no second choice, Judith," he said. "Tonight, the second-choice girls get to envy my beautiful date." He changed the subject, asking, "Did Alison get a date?"

"She’s going with Phil Wine," Judith replied. "That was pinned down a long time ago." This was more like her dream, she thought. There should be some idle conversation, flattering remarks and gossip about friends at this stage. Maybe there was something else she could do to help her make-believe along. "Why don’t you call me Judy?" she said. "Judith sounds like such a stuck-up name."

"Come to think of it, you do seem more like a Judy than you do a Judith," Ken replied. "I like that."

Judy had every right to be nervous as Ken pulled the Cadillac to a stop under the awning at Bernetti’s, the classiest restaurant that Geneva had to offer, but somehow, the desire to enjoy the moment overcame the jitters. Ken held the car door for her as she got up on her crutches, and she stood waiting under the awning while Ken went to park the car.

As she waited, she watched the next car pull up to the awning. It was Keith Worden’s year-old Buick; Keith helped Jennifer Savage out of the car. Judy noted that Jennifer had selected the guy generally acknowledged to be the richest in the class.

"Hi, Jennifer," Judy said sweetly.

"Judith, I didn’t expect to see you here," the tall, haughty blonde said with just enough emphasis on the "you" to make it sound cutting. "Who are you with?"

"Ken Sorensen," Judy replied, and answered Jennifer’s next question before it could be asked. "He asked me quite a while ago."

"I didn’t know they had a new Cadillac Seville," Jennifer said, making a mental note. "Well, have a nice dance."

The emphasis on the last two words was meant to sting, but Judy didn’t notice. At that moment, Ken came up, looking elegant in his tuxedo, to escort Judy into the restaurant. With him next to her that evening, even Jennifer Savage couldn’t destroy her dream.

Judy was even happier when Ken escorted her across the floor in the traditional promenade of couples at the prom a couple of hours later.

Somehow, the decorating committee had managed to turn the grungy old rental hall into something of an elegant ballroom that somehow resembled an outdoor garden. At any other time, a critic might have called the decorations tacky and overdone, a crepe paper extravaganza, but they were just the thing to create the proper mood for an event as traditional as the prom.

The prom was truly the height of social aspirations at Willow Lake High School, and now Judy was sure she was there. For a moment, at least, she was the center of attention as her handsome date escorted her across the floor, the eyes of the junior and senior classes upon her.

Ken and Judy found a seat at a table near the dance floor, but they sat for no more than a minute before the orchestra began to play, and for one crushing moment, the fear of making a fool of herself almost overwhelmed her. But then, Ken said, "Shall we?"

Judy had said she didn’t want to come to the prom if she couldn’t dance; there was no turning back, now. She pulled herself to her feet, let Ken take her in his arms, and whispered, "Hold me tight." In a moment, they were out on the floor.

What they had worked out with Judy’s physical therapist, Beth Mohr, was an awkward-sounding method of dancing, with Judy using one crutch and being supported by Ken, but practice had made it work fairly smoothly. One special thing about the method is that they had to dance romantically close, but Judy didn’t mind; it just made her feel more like what she had so often dreamed of.

She felt as if she were dancing on clouds; however strange she may have looked, she only felt Ken’s strong arm holding her up and the joy of a dream come true. She was unaware of the eyes around the room watching the two of them, seeing something that they never thought would happen.

All too soon, the music came to a stop. "That was wonderful," Judy sighed. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

There was a limit to how far a traditional ballroom dance could go with a prom crowd, and the orchestra fired up some more modern rock. Limited practice time meant that Ken and Judy had only learned a few classic slow dance steps, and their practice hadn’t extended as far as newer dances. With Ken still holding her tight, they slowly walked back to their table, where they were met by a dozen or more people they knew.

"Judith, I can’t believe it was you," a teacher/chaperon gushed. "You certainly look elegant tonight."

"I didn’t know you could do that," Alison Blevens agreed. "I never expected to see you here at all."

"I’m glad I didn’t miss it," Judy smiled shyly, continuing to hold Ken tightly.

It took a few moments to work through the compliments and comments. Judy could hardly remember when she had been such a center of attention, and she basked in it. She’d had no idea that people could have been so interested in what she and Ken had done, and was glad to think that others could see how special it was, too,

The orchestra swung back into a ballroom tune. Judy looked up at Ken with an unspoken question in her eyes; he nodded slightly. "Excuse us," she said. "We want to dance every dance we can."

Over the course of the evening, "Every dance they could" proved to be perhaps one out of four, and they missed none of them. Several guys asked to cut in over the evening, but Judy had to turn them all down, perhaps a bit wistfully, saying, "Ken’s the only person I know how to dance with."

Still, they found themselves sitting a lot, watching others on the floor, and it was a good time to talk. After all, she and Ken would be graduating in a few weeks, and there was much to talk about. "Are you planning to farm?" she asked at one point.

Ken shook his head. "No, I knew a long time ago I was never going to be a farmer. My brother Tom is all set to take over the farm, so I’ve never even thought about it." He explained that he had passed up even joining the 4-H and Future Farmers – there being no point in shooting for the impossible.

"So what are you going to do?" Judy asked.

Ken shrugged again. "I’m really not too sure," he said. "I’m planning on going to Hinckley Community College for a couple of years, and work on the basics of a business administration degree. Once I’ve got a better idea of what I’m doing, I’m planning on transferring to Western State or somewhere to finish my degree."

Judy nodded. "Sounds pretty good," she said. "Any idea of a specialty?"

"I don’t know. I keep thinking that with my farm background, there might be something in agricultural management that interests me. But who knows? What about you?"

"Who knows?" she shrugged. "I think I’d like to go to college, too, but I think it might be too strenuous for me."

"Humpf," Ken frowned for a moment, remembering how easily, yet how firmly, she held on to him while they were dancing. "You seem like you’re in pretty good health, considering."

"I try to be," she replied. "But, my mother thinks I’m pushing myself too hard, even going to high school. I know I could handle the class work, but all the troubles of living by myself away from home . . . " She was silent for a moment before she finished her thought, conceding, " . . . she’s probably right."

Ken thought about that for a moment. He could see where some things might be more difficult for her than for other people. "You seem to get along pretty well," he said, in an effort to stay positive.

"Some things, yes," she replied. "But there are so many things that I can’t do, or can do only if I have some special help – like dancing." She smiled for a moment, reflecting the joy of the evening. "What really bothers me is that there are so many things that other people can do that I can’t. That’s why it was so sweet of you to bring me tonight."

He nodded. "I guess I can see what you mean."

Judy smiled at him again, and went on, "You don’t, really. I really feel left out at times. I mean, thanks to you, I don’t feel left out this time, but what about the next time? There’s so many things that I’d like to do that I can’t."

"Like what, for instance?"

She shrugged. "Lots of things." She nodded at Candy Howard, who was dancing with her boyfriend. "Candy has her horses. She rides them all over the place, and has a roomful of ribbons and trophies. I’d like to be able to ride a horse, even once."

Ken thought for a moment before replying. "I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t. You might not win any awards for style, and you wouldn’t want to do anything too crazy, like steeplechase, but to just ride a horse, no problem."

She looked shocked. "But, I couldn’t."

He smiled, "I’ll bet you could."

"How could I stay on a horse?" she said, trying to make him understand. "My feet wouldn’t even stay in the stirrups."

"You could hang onto the saddle horn." He smiled, and went on, "I’ll tell you what. My brother and I have an old horse. We’ve had her all our lives, and she’s the gentlest thing in the world. Why don’t you come out to the farm and try it?"

"How would I get on her?"

"We’ll figure out something. We figured out how to dance, didn’t we?"

She had to think about that. Yes, with some help, they had been able to do it. Maybe he was right. "Besides," he went on, "Old Candybar is so gentle, she wouldn’t flinch if I had to lift you onto her back with the front-end loader."

She laughed at the vision. "I hope you don’t have to do that," she said through her giggles.

"Naw," Ken said. "I don’t see any reason why I can’t just pick you up and set you on her back. You’re not that heavy."

"I’ll think about it," she conceded.

On the floor the dance after that, Judy had time to think about what they had been saying. It seemed to her that Ken really didn’t have any idea of the things she couldn’t do – but that wasn’t all bad. He was treating her as if she were almost normal, and just had to do a few things the hard way. It was a nice feeling, not to be pitied or patronized because of her difficulties. She laid her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the feeling of being almost normal.

The problem with happy occasions is that they speed by too rapidly. All too soon, after a final promenade around the dance floor, it was time for the last dance.

"Let’s do something different," Judy said as they got up to dance.

Ken agreed. She set both of her crutches down and held on to him tightly. It felt wonderful to have his arms around her, and their dancing was less awkward than it had been before. It felt almost natural.

Judy looked up into Ken’s smiling face, and smiled back. She felt like Cinderella and nearing midnight (in fact, it was way past), and knowing any moment her coach was going to turn back into a pair of crutches.

She laid her head on Ken’s shoulder in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to see the tears she felt welling up. Would she ever dance with anyone again? Ken had made this evening about the best time she could remember, and she didn’t want him to know how sad she felt.

Soon, the orchestra swung into "Good Night, Ladies," and the lights in the ballroom came up. "Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said as he helped her back to their table.

"Thank you," he said. "I had a great time, too. Want to go out for a pizza or something?"

The evening wasn’t over yet! "I’d love to," she told him.

Out in the car afterward, she stiffened up a bit. "Could we just sit here for a few minutes?" she asked.

"Sure," Ken said. "Any reason why?"

"I saw some people sneaking out back during the dance," she said. "They were probably drinking. Let’s give them some time to get where they’re going."

"I’ll be careful," Ken promised.

"My mother was being careful when I got hurt," she said painfully.

Ken remembered that the accident that had crippled her had been caused by a drunk driver, and could see her point. "We’ll sit here for a while," he agreed. They sat talking until the parking lot was nearly empty before they drove across town to an all-night pizza place.

Much of the prom crowd had wound up there as well. Some of the gorgeous gowns and neat tuxedos had become a little messed up, and somehow the glory had departed. Their elegant friends and classmates had become just students in a rural high school class once again, having spent the evening pretending to be something they never would be; but Judy still wanted to keep this night alive and pretend that she was like other people.

It was in the wee small hours of the morning before they left their friends. Out in the Cadillac, Judy put her crutches on her right side, and snuggled up next to Ken. She felt his arm around her, warming her bare shoulders and holding her tight. It was a nice feeling that continued all the way back to her parents’ house in Willow Lake. After Ken shut the engine off, she pulled herself even closer to him.

"I had a very nice time," he said. "I hope you did, too."

"I did," she replied, putting her face close to his.

Their kiss started as a friendly peck, but somehow it lingered on and on. His lips felt so wonderful that Judy had to remind herself that this was all make-believe, but still she hung on, trying to make their embrace a memory that would last forever.

Finally, they pulled apart. With more than a touch of sorrow in her voice, she said, "I don’t know how to thank you. I had a wonderful evening."

"I had a nice time, too," he replied sincerely. "I think you’re quite a girl. When do you want to come out and ride Candybar?"

"Ken, you don’t have to do that," she said in a firm tone. "I know this evening was all make-believe, but I’m happy to have had it."

"It wasn’t make-believe for me," he said. "I had a lot better time than I thought I would."

"Thanks for being nice to me," she said. "Lori never said so, but I’m pretty sure she asked you to take me tonight."

"She suggested it," Ken admitted. "But I thought it was a good idea. I still think so. I’d like to see you again."

"You don’t have to," she told him.

Ken sighed, "All right. Maybe tonight was for Lori." Even in the dim light in the car, she could see him bring his face close, to look her straight in the eye and speak with a sincere firmness in his voice. "The next time, it’ll be for you and me."