The Secret Princess

Once upon a time, not too long ago, there was a girl. This girl was named Joanna. Joanna was, well, she was no beauty. Her clothes hung limply on her fair frame while her long and thin brown hair dangled in front of her large grey eyes. Walking lonely through the cement hallways of her crowded college, she was pushed against a wall and shoved into a trashcan by the other students in the building. They acted as if she did not even exist.

With so many people in a school so large, one would assume there would be someone to adopt her as a friend. However, no such comrade had surfaced. Her only companion was found in the music she produced using her most prized possession, her Double B Flat Tuba.

Tubas, looked at as somewhat doughty and peculiar due to their grand stature and low notes (which presumably are used for musical elements pertaining to slower characters) never attained the melody. Tubas have been able to triumph over the high pitched tone of the trumpet melodies and prevail where no other brass instrument is able to reach: the bass line. This is the driving underground of any song. Without a bass line, there is no remembrance of beat. Without the Tuba, there is no bass line.

Oh, how Joanna adored the poor thing. She chose to play the Tuba ever since she was able to hold one, which is to say very young indeed. During her early years, the Tuba was her only friend and that same truth repeated itself now that she was in college. Never did it poke fun at how she dressed or how she walked. Never did it ignore her. To Joanna, the Tuba could do no wrong. The only reason she smiled during the day was because she was able to hold her instrument during the band period. Eagerly her hands would grope for the Tuba as she allowed her eyes to feast upon its golden grandeur. The Tuba was nearly half her own height and practically her own width as well. She pressed her lips to the mouthpiece with a slight smile as the notes elegantly flowed from its bell. The valves pressed with such ease it was as if her fingers were floating on clouds.

The Tuba was her one true love. She had engraved her name into the case, letting everyone know that this was Joanna's Tuba. Nonetheless, Joanna did have another interest. In band, a boy sat next to her. His name was Travis. A tall, handsome boy of more than six feet, he had short dark hair with kind blue eyes. He played the Tuba as well. The most the two had ever exchanged was a seldom hello, but his smile always warmed her heart after the salutation. She had come to admire him almost as much as her Tuba. Travis was the only one in the entire school who ever acknowledged her presence. Considering this, Joanna considered him her closest acquaintance.

One day during a break of practicing somewhat challenging holiday music, Travis unexpectedly whispered something other than hello. Leaning towards her, he murmured, "You really love that thing, don't you?"

"Yes," she said, her grey eyes filling with adoration as she stared from the Tuba to his eyes. "I do."

He leaned back in his seat and nodded. Joanna's heart leapt in a fit of curtsies and cartwheels. Travis' simple nod symbolized his understanding of her devotion to the instrument. Never in her years had she met someone to understand her love.

As they put their instruments away, Joanna paid particularly close attention to Travis. He gently laid his instrument in its case, locking it away with extra care. Joanna and Travis both approached their Tuba's holding places.

"Have a good evening, Joanna," said Travis.

"Ditto," she said breathlessly as he turned his back to her and walked away. Before leaving, Joanna delicately kissed her fingertips and gently touched her Tuba's case. It was a ritual she had done for years, but the urgency with which the simple task was performed on this traditional occasion was tingling within her every being. That evening, she rushed to her house with joy she had never dreamt of possessing.

Travis came to band the next day and went to his Tuba's stall. Normally, Joanna's Tuba was already gone from its holding, but today it lay dormant. The hair on his back rose. Something was not right. He entered the practice room and saw that the band director was approaching. He smiled at the director who only returned a face full of grief and pain. The director shook his head and continued walking.

Travis took his seat and prepared himself and his instrument for class. On a normal day, the director would step onto his platform, raise his arms signaling 'horns up,' and begin practice. Today, however, he solemnly took his place in front of the class and stared out at them all, not a chance of a smile. The director announced that Joanna would not be returning to band. The previous night, she was walking down the sidewalk when she was hit by a car.

The room fell silent and cold. Travis found himself half-listening to the words the director was now pronouncing. He said something about grief sessions being held and funeral arrangements being made, but Travis was unable to comprehend. He did not know why. Maybe it was because most people did not even know who Joanna was, or perhaps the fact that he could not imagine her never returning.

The director ended class early. Travis put his Tuba away, meeting Joanna's lonely instrument. It would never be played by her fragile fingers ever again.

The funeral and calling hours came and went. Travis visited Joanna's gravesite. On her tombstone, her family put the engraving of a Tuba. Travis could not help but chuckle as he looked at the engraving. The slight laughter quickly died, however, when he realized he was standing on the grave site of a classmate. Above the Tuba, there were the words engraved, "Joanna Eileen Mariposoan, our Secret Princess."

Travis went to band class the next day and saw that Joanna's Tuba was gone from its stall. He searched everywhere in the band room for it, wanting it to be in that place forever. It was only right. To his great dismay, he was unable to find the Tuba. He looked for it every time he entered the band room, even after graduating. When he would come back and visit, he searched only to find the stall filled with another Tuba.

The years came and went, as did the students at the college. The band music and style had changed as well as the director. It was the first day of a new year and a new set of students. An extra tall boy who looked as if he'd be on the football team rather than in a band room walked into the instruments holding grounds. His name was Daniel. His instructor for his brass class had just instructed the students to pick a brass instrument from play for the class. As his classmates clamored to grab the nearest brass instrument they could get their hands on, Daniel stood in the doorway, running his hand through his dark hair. Instead of fighting the throng of fussing students who were all determined to get the best instrument out of the bunch, he decided to lay low until they calmed down.

Once the instrument room was cleared of his frantic classmates, Daniel entered. He scanned the room to find, disappointingly, that the only brass instrument he could find was that of a Tuba. It was in the back, dark corner. It looked as if it had been forgotten through the years. The dust that had collected on its case diminished the glossy material. Daniel blew the dust off a portion of the case to reveal the name, 'Joanna E. Mariposoan' engraved with what looked like a knife. Shrugging, figuring this was the only instrument left anyway, he carried it back to his seat in the back of the class.

He knelt down to open the case. What he found inside was astonishing. Hiding inside the dusty case was a beautiful, shiny golden Tuba. It looked brand new. He picked it up pressed down on the valves with ease. They did not stick nor were any missing. Hesitantly, thinking it was too good to be true; he tenderly put his lips to the mouthpiece. The sound that was produced was breathtaking. It had the best tone out of all of the Tubas the students had taken. It was tuned perfectly. Examining the exterior of the Tuba further, Daniel found that it was not dented one bit, nor was it scratched in any manner. The surrounding students were astonished to hear that he had picked the Tuba from the corner. They all thought for sure it would be the worst of the bunch.

Daniel smiled in spite of himself. His soft teal eyes reflected off the shimmering gold of the gallant brass instrument. Fingering the valves before putting his lips to the mouthpiece once more, he said to his surrounding classmates, "You never know when you'll find a Secret Princess."