Jingle Dancer

Tink, tink, tink, tink, sang the cone-shaped jingles sewn onto Grandma Wolfe’s dress. Every Grandma bounce-step brought clattering tinks as light blurred silver against jingles of tin. Jenna daydreamed at the kitchen table, tasting honey on fry bread, her heart beating to the brum, brum, brum, brum of the powwow drum.

As Moon kissed Sun goodnight, Jenna leaned her head on Grandma Wolfe’s shoulder. “I want to jingle dance, too.” “Next powwow, you could dance Girls,” Grandma Wolfe answered. “But we don’t have enough time to mail-order tins for rolling jingles.”

Again and again. Jenna watched a videotape of Grandma Wolfe jingle dancing. When Grandma bounce-stepped on TV, Jenna bounce-stepped on family room carpet. But Jenna’s dress would not be able to sing. It needed four rows of jingles.

As Sun fetched morning, Jenna danced east to Great-Aunt Sis’s porch. Jenna’s bounce-steps crunched autumn leaves, but her steps didn’t jingle.

Once again Great-aunt Sis told Jenna a Muscogee Creek story about Bat. Although other animals had said he was too small to make a difference, Bat won a ball game by flying high and catching a ball in his teeth.
Rising sunlight reached through a windowpane and flashed against…what was it, hanging in Aunt Sis’s bedroom? Jingles on a dress too long quiet.
“May I borrow enough jingles to make a row?” Jenna asked, not wanting to take so many that Aunt Sis’s dress would lose its voice.
“You may,” Aunt Sis answered, rubbing her calves. “My legs don’t work so good anymore. Will you dance for me?” “I will,” Jenna said with a kiss on Aunt Sis’s cheek. Now Jenna’s dress needed three more rows.

As Sun arrived at mid-circle, Jenna skipped south to Mrs. Scott’s brand-new duplex. At Jenna’s side, jingles clinked. Mrs. Scott led Jenna into the kitchen. Once again, Jenna rolled dough, and Mrs. Scott fried it. “May I borrow enough jingles to make a row?” Jenna asked, not wanting to take so many that Mrs. Scott’s dress would lose its voice.
“You may.” Mrs. Scott answered, tossing flour with her apron. “At powwow, I’ll be busy selling fry bread and Indian tacos. Will you dance for me?” “I will,” said Jenna with a high five. Now Jenna’s dress needed two more rows.