The ending to The Dancer
Epilogue
In the year 2025, Johnny Fallon no longer danced the night away.
Johnny could hardly see across the dance floor. But he could hear…he could listen to the music. The music of yesteryear rang through his ears as if he were once again a young Johnny Fallon, eight years old, with his chin up against the windowsill at The Tavern on the Hill, listening to the music of Count Basie, Conway Twitty, Elvis Presley, and Johnny Cash.
Fallon was dressed and ready for one more appearance…one more drum roll at Johnny Fallon’s…one more dance. Yes, one more dance. Johnny had a special surprise for the Lady with the Red Hair.
On this night, he would throw away his cane, grin, unleash that sparkle in his eyes, walk to the center of the dance floor…and dance…one more time with the love of his life, the beautiful woman who made his heart pound when she touched him, her soft hands squeezing life back into his body.
His memory was fading fast. Some days were better than others.
There were days he secretly pulled those old Sony headphones over his balding head. He clicked on the green button, and instantly, all his music would be at his fingertips. There were also days he wouldn’t remember what the headphones were for.
Johnny was diagnosed with Dementia in 2023. The first days of his memory loss were frustrating enough. He would forget where he put things, forgot the names…the names of the people, the l-e-t-t-e-r-s, were like a puzzle, the final pieces of the giant puzzle glued to his tongue.
What he held on to most were those precious moments when a beautiful lady would arrive through the lobby doors and sit down beside him. She would grab his hands and hold on tightly.
Sometimes, he’d struggle to pronounce her name. His mouth would open, and he would try to release the beautiful name from his dry lips, “S-A-M-A-N-T-H-A…”
If he was successful and the word “Samantha” popped out, then all was well with the world. When Johnny couldn’t utter her name, he’d stare out the window, lost in his mumbled thoughts. He lived for that special moment. That special moment when the words flowed freely.
He so hoped today would be that day.
Samantha left the house. She looked around for the keys. It was her husband’s eighty-fourth birthday. The Tavern on the Hill would be busy. She had instructed her staff on how to prepare for this special day. Everyone — including her twin daughters, the townspeople of Forest Hills, the patrons of Fallon’s Place, Johnny’s long-time friends, like Bobby Joe, and all the employees at The Tavern on the Hill- was there to celebrate the birthday of their boss — to celebrate another year in the life of Johnny Fallon.
Samantha knew a cure was close — a cure for the devastating disease, which gradually peels away at one’s memory — leaving them with the frustration of witnessing nothing more than strange faces, strange voices, and the pain, the agony…the fear of “being”…but never an answer to “why” they feel the way they do.
The medical world was closing the gap, getting closer to an answer to why millions and millions of men and women were struck down with such a terrible disease, a disease that suddenly erases a lifetime of memories and turns family members into strangers…a disease that has no boundaries and leaves in its wake loneliness, heartache, and despair.
As for Samantha, she knew her husband was holding on. There were times he’d wake up, and his mind would be as clear as the blue sky, those special days when two young women with wavy red hair — their faces identical, their smiles the same…their touch the same — would take him down to the lake, along with a spirited dog by their side. There were times he’d remember the smell, the surface of the water…the coolness of the shoreline.
The twin girls had grown into women — their hair the same color as the Lady with the Red Hair. Their names started with the letter “J,” and Johnny knew that at times. It was the rest of the “letters” that remained garbled — caught in a giant web and unable to escape.
The playful, barking dog had a name. He remembers the dog’s name started with the letter R. Sometimes he remembers one of the girls calling him “Rusty” — the offspring of Buddy, who had passed on so many years ago. All the names would vanish from Johnny’s lips, the words caught on the tip of his tongue — and all that would be left on Johnny’s face was a smile — but a happy smile, nonetheless.
“We’re almost there,” Samantha said. “She looked through the rearview mirror of her car as she turned onto Ramsey Canyon Road. Behind her were Jill and her husband, Jed, along with their three children. Behind Jill were Joan, her husband Artie, and their two twin boys, both of whom were content, their young eyes glued to a television monitor in front of them as they watched their favorite cartoon.
Samantha parked the car and helped Johnny stand, with a cane in hand, as he eyed the big red doors and the entrance to the Tavern. Flashes of a little boy with a shoeshine kit emerged, but only for a second…and then faded quickly…and disappeared. You could hear a pin drop as the Fallon family opened the big red doors and made their way into the Tavern on the Hill.
Once safely inside, Johnny eyed the room as the crowd cheered his arrival. “Happy Birthday, Johnny!”
Samantha led Johnny to the center table, directly in front of the dance floor.
A young girl from behind the bar left her post and edged her way to the jukebox. She pushed down the button, A-1. The song A Million to One filled all the loudspeakers in the main ballroom.
Johnny smiled and handed his cane to the second-oldest man at the table, his best friend, Bobby Joe. “My pleasure,” Bobby Joe said with a grin.
Johnny took the hand of Samantha. “You’re taking my breath away, Johnny,” she said.
The couple moved to the center of the floor. The crowd roared their approval as Johnny began to twirl the beautiful redhead around the dance floor.
The Dancer was having his three minutes on the dance floor with the beautiful Lady with the Red Hair.
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