Mr. Drockmore said, congratulating her on her oral report. “I think Phillis … well, I think Phillis would have been moved to hear ‘Hymn to Humanity’ recited that way.” Everyone guessed that she was a flower child from the sixties, not a Romany girl, but Keisha didn’t mind because she loved the way her slip-and-slide dance moves looked in Grandma’s tie-dye skirt. She went down the fourth-to-fifth hallway as smooth as glass. She leaned with it, rocked with it and finished it off with an old-school percolator move. “That was fine,” Aaliyah told her afterward. She couldn’t be too free in her long celebrity dress. Wen couldn’t do much, either. She was a colorful box kite with long silk streamers. But Zeke and Zack did their trademark moonwalk-with-the-chicken-head move. Zeke was a refrigerator magnet (all that required was a black shoe box duct-taped to his back) and Zack was a chick magnet (complete with a bunch of his cousin’s Barbie dolls stuck on a silver cardboard horseshoe on the front of his shirt).
