DDR

24 6 3
                                    

Today, I walked by the DDR machine we used to play in that busted arcade at the end of town. I don't know what compelled me to go there, but when my feet started moving, I found myself staring up at that faded green sign.

No one was gathered around it. The machine, big, bulky, and obsolete, stood facing the rest of the world, screaming 'I'm here!' with its flashing pastel bulbs, but no one paid it any mind.

I put three quarters into the worn-out slot. It was a familiar feeling, hearing the metal clink through the machine and land at the bottom with the rest of the coins. Remember that funny story you used to tell me about the little gnomes that brought the stash to the owner?

The arcade owner still looks the same, by the way. He still wears those clunky glasses with the blue reflective lens and has the same potbelly laugh. Although, when I walked in, I noticed how his goatee and hair blend more bits of grey than brown.

The little opening jingle chimed to life, and I stared at it in wonder. The notes were the same, and they reminded me of the small twinkle in your eyes when you looked at me here.

I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed in the scent of days-old cotton candy. When they first installed the machine, you and I were the first ones on it. We passed the arcade on our way home from the ice cream parlor, and you saw the shiny chrome through the display glass.

'Let's go check it out!' you called out, and before I could react, you darted in and shoved four quarters in. I still remember your smile the first time we ever danced to a song there. You looked like a little kid again.

My fingers danced along the pale pink railing behind the dance pad. I chuckled as I placed my hands over the handprints where the paint faded. My knuckles grew white, and I think I lost blood circulation for every three-minute song that we danced together when I gripped the bars trying to beat you.

I stared at the last quarter in my hand, but I couldn't bring myself to put it into the machine. I couldn't remember the last time I had stepped on those green arrows with you, and it hurt so much that the quarter rolled onto the dusty old tile. I miss you.

You taught me how to dance, how to laugh, and most importantly, how to love. And as I stared at that stupid quarter that seemed to be the most daunting thing I had ever faced, I felt a surge of that love swell in my chest.

Even though we're in two different worlds now, I need you to know...

I love you, Mom. And I know you love me too. One day in the future, we'll play DDR once again.

DDRWhere stories live. Discover now