For the World to Change

"Ma-jor second…" The band droned. They played three notes. "Mi-nor second," They droned again. Largo looked back at the trumpets. The second and third chairs were acting like opera singers, and Krista was staring her down from the back row of clarinets. Codie picked at her mosquito bites during the singing parts. The tubas seemed to be plotting something. The band continued until the end of the warm up. "Per-fect fifth."

"And now, kiddos," Durham said, clasping his hands together and looking Laney straight in the eye. She jumped. "I would like to present to you my dear old Daddy Durham." Everyone cheered, and the percussion went into a riot. Largo beamed.

"Hey, band!" he said.

"Hey, what?" we replied.

"Nothing, I was just saying 'hey'". A few people chucked. Krista rolled her eyes. Mr. Durham went and sat at a table in the back of the room, giggling to himself.

Raven, the ninth chair flute, turned to Largo. "Crayons!" she whispered, clapping her hands. Largo tried not to burst out laughing. A few days ago, several of Mr. Durham's friends came to listen to the band play, but by the end of the day, Mr. Durham's college director was doing all of the directing and all of Durham's colleagues sat at the back table drawing pictures. At one point, Mr. Durham got up and left, supposedly because he needed crayons.

"My little boy says that his band ain't breathing right," he said. "Surely none of you have asthma or anything like that," he said, giving us the goofy Durham smile.

Laney raised her hand. "I got azma," she said.

Daddy Durham ignored her. "Okay, we're gonna start with La Traviata. Any questions?" Largo's hand flew up. His eyes turned to her, and she felt all the blood rush to her face. "Yes, dear?"

"D'ya like crayons?" She asked, trying to seem as spastic as possible. The entire band flew into laughter. From the table at the back, Mr. Durham shot her a dirty look. It wasn't a mean look, but it was that look where he stares you right in the eye and blinks a lot. It was scary, actually.

"Well, I have to say," he started, clasping his hands together just as Mr. Durham did. "I haven't seen them in a long time, but…" he turned to his son at the back table. "Nick, remember when you used to draw me all those pretty pictures in elementary school?" Mr. Durham looked up. No one had ever seen him blush, so this was a first. "Huh?" he asked.

"Yeah! You drew me all those wonderful pictures of your best friend and you together. That was so cute." Daddy Durham sighed and came back to the real world. Half of the band was rolling on the floor by now. Mr. Durham didn't share that much about his personal life, but this was enough for any band student to blackmail him for the rest of his life.

"Okay, guys, back to La Traviata," Daddy Durham said, putting his hands up. The band was still in a fit of laughter. "GUYS!" The band went quiet. Daddy Durham smiled a mile wide. "Thank you. Okay, start at letter A. A one, two, ready, g—" A few people started off in various places, but Durham put his hands down. "Breathe together! Imagine yourself in a villa in Italy surrounded by grapevines, and all of the pretty girls are trying to woo the boys they think are just so good-looking, and the boys are trying to woo the pretty girls. This is a love song, not blululululuBLAH!" He looked down at the music score, then back up at the string bass. And while I'm thinking about it, we need to tune that string bass real quick." Napoleon, who was playing the string bass, walked up to the front of the room and turned on the tuner. It was a really boring process, so Largo started looking around.

Nothing was really going on. Raven was flirting with Swiss Guy, who sat behind her. Josie, the last chair French horn, was kicking Swiss Guy's chair, and Codie was still picking at her mosquito bites, and one of them was beginning to form a scar. Some message was traveling from the tuba section up into the trumpets. It spread quickly into the clarinets, where Krista nodded and passed it on to Laney, who sat next to her. Before long, Juanita was whispering in Largo's ear. "We're all gonna breathe together and see what he says," she whispered. "Pass it on." Largo did as she was told and whispered into Raven's ear. By the time the plan made it around to the last chair flute, the string bass was tuned.

"Start at letter A. One, two, ready…" Daddy Durham counted us off, his voice getting quieter with each beat. Sure enough, the entire band started precisely together. They played twenty measures, only to be cut off. "GUYS! COME ON!" Daddy Durham yelled. "Where's the dynamics? I'm getting the same emotion I'd get if I were directing that wall over there!" he pointed at the wall. Despite being griped at, the band started together once again. At the exact moment, rain started falling on the band hall roof. Mr. Durham looked up from drawing his pictures. He caught the eye of the second chair clarinet, and he put his fingers to his head like a pistol and acted as if he were shooting himself. She giggled to herself.

"Okay, band, let's try this again," Daddy Durham said, his intensity remaining constant. "What, do I intimidate you?" he said to the tubas. Everyone turned, only to see Drew and the other tubas curled up in their chairs behind their tubas, quivering. Napoleon was laughing his head off. Durham continued to look at them questionably. "Well?"

"We're scared of thunder," Clifton, the second chair tuba said. "Metal attracts it. Especially big metal."

Durham let a big, hearty laugh escape him. "Look. I MARCHED in conditions like this when I was in school. Your band director is nice enough to—"

"CRRRACK!" the thunder boomed from outside. The tubas shrieked hysterically.

"Guys!" Durham exclaimed. "You're INSIDE! The weather won't hurt you if you're inside the building!"

"It's scary, though!" Drew whined. As a junior, you'd expect him to be more courageous than that, but unfortunately, he wasn't. Neither was Ryan, who was a senior and section leader.

"Boys," he said, becoming more serious. "We're here to work, not to goof off. Furthermore, metal attracts lightning. Not thunder." Clifton screamed and dove into Drew's lap, dropping his tuba on the floor.

Durham sighed and raised his baton. "Okay, band," he said, apparently a little agitated from the tubas' ignorance. "Here we go again, from A. And a one, two, ready, and—" The band took off playing, and at the exact same time, the loudest thunderclap of all echoed through the building. In a split second, the lights went out. You could hear someone from the trombone section run up into the flute section and grab his girlfriend. The tubas went berserk, and people hollered and cheered. However, the excitement didn't cover that unnatural explosion from outside. The entire band turned and looked back. Little Mr. Durham looked toward the noise and felt his blood run cold. The rest of the band stared at the unusual sight, too.

It only took a moment for the swirling mass of color to cover the entire back facade of the band hall. It was almost hypnotic, like looking at one of those Rainbow Puddle backgrounds for the first time. Its roar was almost as loud as a tornado in Kansas, and no sound could be heard over it. The only difference was that it was real. Over the period of a few seconds, it grew brighter and brighter, until you could see the faces of all of the band students at a distorted angle. The tubas, whose screeching had subsided, approached it. Billy Bob giggled and jumped into it.

"No!" Daddy Durham yelled after him. It was too late, the little lard of an eighth grade tuba had already been lost. The tubas murmured, then followed him in. No one said anything, they just watched cautiously, afraid to make any sudden moved. All of a sudden, the second chair clarinet, who was one of the band director's favorite students, jumped over her chair and dove headfirst into the wall. Realizing that the most conservative student in the band was now the victim of possible tragedy, the rest of the students pushed and shoved each other, trying to jump into the wall.

"I don't know what's in there!" Largo yelled to Krista, who was next to her.

"What?" Krista yelled back.

"I DON'T KNOW—" Largo felt herself being pushed sharply in the back, she turned, grabbing Krista's sleeve. The next thing she knew, Laney was waving to her and getting smaller and smaller. Largo had been pushed into the deep pit of the wall, and Krista had gone with her, even though she was now nowhere to be seen. She began to feel lightheaded, and her vision was blurry. Colors flew by her head faster than she could even name them. She felt as if she were floating on air. It actually felt pleasant, and erased all of the cares from her mind. There was nothing strange about this setting anymore. There was no math homework due on Monday. There wasn't anyone spreading any lies about you. It was a perfect world. Largo settled down on her cloud of air and relaxed.