THE TIME OF HER LIFE [Hmm, What Should We Do this Week? (Saturday Writing Essential)]

Challenge: Using prose or poetry, write a fictional story based on one of the fourteen ideas I’ve listed.

What happens to “Baby” after Dirty Dancing ends? Does she go back to school or does she become a regular dancer at the Kellerman Resort?

Follow up on that as it has been reported that the Mountain Lake Hotel (the original Kellerman Resort) is now having some hard times. Maybe Baby, somehow, buys the hotel and then...

The car was a joy to drive, a brand-new 1978 Fiat 124 Spyder, and for Fran, the last touch on the world's most gorgeous summer day. She took the winding road at a speed that would have shocked her father.

“Baby,” she could hear him say, “I can always rely on your good judgment.” She wondered what he would have said about her mission, here in the Catskills. No, she didn't wonder; he would have believed in her, as he had all her life, with only one lapse. Soon, she would arrive at the scene of that lapse.

The black sports-car topped a rise and there it was, the valley spread out before her with Kellerman's Resort perched on the opposite hill. Down, she swept, across the valley to the drive and through the trees, their leaves soughing the same song they had on that July day, fifteen years earlier. She pulled up to the wide porch and cut the engine. For a moment, she sat, immersed in the past, one hand stroking the smooth, tan leather of her car seat. She still got letters from Penny, now married to a veterinarian in West Virginia, and the mother of three. Penny had kept her up to date on Johnny. She thought about Johnny. His career had taken a long time to unfold, but now, there was probably no one over the age of five who didn't know the actor, John R. Castle; certainly no one female. She got out of the car.

The screen door opened and an old black man stepped carefully onto the porch, his weight balanced on a shiny red cane. “Can I help you?” he asked. “Kellerman's is closed. Been closed three years now, since old Max died. His nephew, Neil had it sold almost before the body was cold.”

“Tito? Tito Suarez?” Fran asked, joy and wonder in her voice. “Do you remember me? I'm Frances Houseman. This is wonderful. What are you doing here?”

“Miss Baby? Is that really you? Of course I remember the best closing show Kellerman's ever had. The new owner invited me to come and oversee the renovations that needed to be made, for his new school. I live here and keep on top of everything for him. We're almost ready to open the Catskills School for Dramatic Arts; there're classrooms and dormitories, just about finished, and an indoor theater and outdoor amphitheater. I'll be teaching a class, here. The other teachers will start arriving in a couple of weeks and they'll get the cabins to live in. You should take a look around.”

“I'd like to. I got a letter, from the new owner, asking me to meet him here for a legal consultation. If he's not here yet, I'll just take a short walk.” With a wave, Fran headed around the lodge and up the hill toward what had been the staff quarters. When she reached the bridge, she stopped and leaned on the railing, hearing, in her mind, the strains of music. She closed her eyes and executed a few quick dance steps. “...still got it,” she whispered.

“I'd have bet on it,” said a voice, and her eyes flew open. Johnny Castle, in jeans, tee shirt and leather jacket, stood, as he had, so many times, looking at her. “What do you think of my project?” he asked. “Who would have thought I'd ever get involved with education? I think I'm going to need some really great legal guidance.”

Fran simply nodded.