It was two weeks later and I was in my car on my way to the auditions for the Dragons. Of course, Em was ecstatic when I told her. My parents, unfortunately, were not as enthusiastic.
"But honey, what about UCLA?" were the first words out of my mother's mouth when I told her about the corp.
"I don't know," I said, "I haven't been accepted yet. I don't think we should worry about it yet."
"If you bail out of early acceptance, we have to pay for room and board," my dad said.
"I know."
"Honey, that's two thousand dollars."
Darn. I had forgotten about that.
"Well," I said, "why don't we cross that bridge when, and if we come to it."
After a little while, my parents gave in. I was set.
I turned left into the parking lot of the school. I wasn't expecting many people to be there. In my four years of marching band, there had only been ten girls in the brass section. Total. Out of the ten I was the only one who had chosen to do corp. And out of our entire band, Em and I were the only two girls in our band that had chosen to go on to corp. I expected there to be very little interest. One glance at the parking lot proved me wrong. There were cars in ever spot, and they were already starting to park on the grass. Apparently, there was interest.
I scoured the parking lot, and found a parking spot between to huge SUVs. I was nearly an hour early, but the field was fairly full. There were at least 300 girls there. However, based on the number of flags in the air, it looked like 200 of the girls were trying out for the guard. Still, that meant that there were 100 girls that were trying out for the hornline and drumline. That was 90 more than I expected.
I entered into the stadium and went to the table marked "sign in." The line was fairly long, so I pulled out my audition packet. The lyrical part was cake, I knew I would do fine on that. The technical part was my worry. Unless everything went perfectly, I would probably completely screw it up. Hopefully, they would be so impressed with my lyrical piece that they would over look my technical performance. Who was I kidding?
"Last minute jitters?" a voice asked behind.
"Something like that," I said, my fingers taping out the pattern for the millionth time.
"Don't worry. I think we all have them." Even though I wasn't facing her, I could hear her tapping out some random exercise on her binder.
"Something tells me you're a drummer," I said, finally turning to look at her. Much to my surprise, she wasn't much older than I was.
"Yep. What do you get when you take the first r out of drummer?"
I thought for a minute.
"Dummer!" I said finally.
We both laughed hysterically. Whether it was from nerves or because the joke was actually funny, I wasn't quite sure.
"I'm Nicole," she said sticking her hand out.
"I'm Catlin. But most people call me Kiwi."
"Next!" the guy running the check-in table called.
I handed the guy my stack of paper and he intern handed me a sticker with a number on it.
"Sticker goes on your right. The sooner you memorize your number the better," he said. "Hornline and drumline are on side one, guard side two. Good luck."
I meandered over two the left side of the field and started to unpack my stuff. We had been lucky. Today was beautiful. There was not a cloud in the December sky. I was about freezing; a rarity for early December in Ohio. It was actually warm enough that I didn't need my huge letter jacket. I was rather excited. I looked at my watch. It was almost time for the audition.
As if they had read my mind, a woman with short red hair and bright green eyes appeared on the podium. No one had to tell me that that was Beth Browning.
"Good afternoon," she said, her voice friendly but serious.
"Good afternoon," all 400 of that had shown up chimed in.
"Now, I know some of you have traveled a very long way to get her and have a very long drive ahead if you to get home. I will try to make this quick. Today you have chosen to audition for DCI's first all female corp. I will tell you this has been a long time coming. Those auditioning for the hornline and drumline will be split into two blocks: odds will be in block A, and will start on the field with our visual instructor Janice, and then move inside for the musical auditions. Evens, block B, will start inside with the musical auditions and then come outside. If you are auditioning for drumline, may I remind you that today you are simply competing for a spot. Instrumentation will be decided at the mini-camp after Christmas. Hornline, you are auditioning for a spot as well as a part today. Guard, you are going to go with our guard instructor Kathryn and do something completely different. So, ignore everything I just said.
"You are not going to find out whether or not you made it today. You should receive a letter in the mail that says whether you have been accepted, rejected, or we feel you need to audition again. However, some drumline may be accepted on the spot and some guard may be rejected on the spot. I'm sorry, ladies trying out for guard, you won't know if you made it or not until January. There are simply too many of you.
"All right, everyone let's get to it. Be your best today and I hope that you will all prove to be just as talented as the other girls we've seen."
I was number 555, so I was staying on the field. I meandered over to the fifty, where the visual instructor that Beth had introduced as Janice, was standing. She was short was olive skin, dark hair, and fiery brown eyes. She looked like she might be Italian.
"Okay girls, grab a quick stretch and then line up on the side one end zone. I'm going to tell you, you're in for a long hour."
There was a collective groan from everyone on the field. We were all in over our head and we hadn't made it in the corp yet.
Marching wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. It was a series of forward and backward marching at a variety of step sizes. It was demanding, but I had been through worse. What was really bad were the people walking around with clipboards, muttering under their breaths, scribbling notes, look at us like were subject under their microscopes (come to think of, that's what we pretty much were.) It made us all nervous. Janice hadn't let us out until three minutes after we were suppose to be inside the school. It was a highly unpleasant sprint to try to get there on time.
We crashed through the doors of the school five minutes after we were suppose to be there and preying that no one would care.
Beth was standing there waiting for us.
Crap.
"I won't ask," Bath said, "but the order is on that door. First one is up in five minutes."
Well, that would do. So long as I didn't go for a while.
I looked at the list. I was fifth.
Arg. This was not working out.
I pulled out my horn and tried to warm up and catch my breath at the same time. I sounded like a drowning elephant. I started to freak out. None of this was going well.
"457!"
I was next. I gave up. I figured whatever happens, would happened. So I just sat for those five grueling minutes, waiting for my doom to be announced.
"555!"
Fabulous.
I meandered into the room, music in one hand, trumpet in the other. I placed on the music on the stand. I exhaled.
"Hi," Beth said.
"Hi," I said in a two inch voice.
"You are… Melody?"
"Yes, but every one calls me Catlin," I responded.
"That's my daughter's name."
Okay, that couldn't hurt, could it?
"Start whenever you're ready."
Damn.
"Do you want the lyrical or the technical piece first?"
"Either one," she said.
I lifted the horn to my lips.
The haunting melody filled the room. Every note hung for just the right amount of time. It was probably the best I had played in months. I was rather proud. The technical piece didn't sound half bad. I messed up twice, but I was actually happy with it.
"Very nice," Beth said.
Wow, I was shocked. It was a good, but I didn't think it was that good.
"Tell me Catlin, why didn't you try out for the lead part?"
Crap. I was hoping that I could avoid this question. Why did it matter to her what part I tried out for?
"Well, um, well…" I decided to just come out with it, "I can't."
"What do you mean by 'can't'?"
"Anything above a G sounds like someone strangling a cat."
At least she laughed at this.
"You didn't get a physical," she commented, looking through my papers that I had turned in earlier that day.
Was I suppose to?
"Don't worry. Many of the other girls forgot to get one too," she said.
Well, that was relief.
"Well, Catlin, that will be all."
I thanked her and began to walk out the door.
"Catlin," she said, not even looking up from her papers.
"Yes?"
"I know no one gets accepted or rejected today, but all members have to have physicals on file before the mini-camp in January. I suggest you go get a physical."
I turned and looked at her.
"You play well Catlin," she said, looking up from her papers.
I stood there for a moment, absolutely stunned.
I managed to pull myself together, thank her, and walk out.
"How'd it go?" asked one of the girls sitting on the floor, half looking at me, half looking at her music.
"It went… it went… well."
I put all my stuff in my car, and meandered down to the field. There was suppose to be a short wrap up meeting fifteen minutes and then we would all get to leave. I was looking forward to going home. While today had been good, I was exhausted.
I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that, as long as I hadn't imagined it, I had pretty much been accepted on the spot. I wasn't use to that. I was never the first one they picked for anything. I usually had to get called back, had to go through a couple more auditions, and then wait for the directors to realize that they really did need a strong person to play third trumpet before I got accepted. Directors didn't want trumpet player who didn't have the range but could play well. They wanted players with the range. It was rather depressing.
By now I could hear Janice calling out commands on the field. Apparently she was using Nicole, the girl who had been behind me in line, as an example for something. I watched Nicole move forward and back with a perfect touch and go. She would probably make the corp on marching alone.
When I entered on to the field, Janice had already let the girls that were marching go. The guard had returned, and now we were all milling around, waiting for Beth to show up.
"Hey!" Nicole said coming up behind me, "How'd it go?"
"Pretty well, surprisingly," I said, "how did it go for you?"
"It went alright," she said.
Everyone went silent. Beth had ascended to the podium.
"Well, girls, this ends our audition process for the Dragons. I have been extremely pleased with everything I have seen here today. You all did a great job. I am really excited to see how this corp is going to shape up. I know we will be seeing some of you at the mini-camps after Christmas. There will be a practice schedule sent in the mail to those of you that do make it. Or, if you can't wait that long, you can go look it up online. Hopefully, it will be up today.
"Well that's all girls. I hope to be seeing some of you again very soon."
We all dispersed. I was very happy to be going home.
"Hey, Kiwi, wait!" I turned around. It was Nicole.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked.
"Are you from around her?"
"Yea, I live about an hour south of here. I'm on my way home."
Her face fell.
"What about you?" I asked.
"No, I'm from South Carolina. My mom and I are staying in a hotel until tomorrow."
"Well, I'm not a huge rush," I said, even though it was a partial lie, "there's a place up the street with pretty good barbeque. We sometimes go there if we have band competitions here. You want to grad dinner?"
Her face brightened.
"I'd love to."
The City Barbeque Place (yes that is the real name of the restaurant) was packed with people (it was Saturday night, after all). We managed to find a table in the back, away from most of the noise. Nicole was possibly the most talkative person I had ever met. I wasn't to terribly upset. While I was a fairly loquacious individual most of the time, I wasn't in the mood to talk right then. I was ridiculously tired.
"Hold on," I asked. I did have one question. "If you're from South Carolina, how come you're not with the Crown?"
"Well, I auditioned for them. I was hoping to be in their pit."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But I couldn't stand their pit director. So, I started looking at other corps. And I happened to stumble across these guys."
"So you're auditioning for pit?" I was very confused. If she was in the pit, then how was she such a good marcher?
"Actually, no. I've decided I didn't want to spend a year not marching. I'm hoping to be in the battery. Quads, to be more specific."
"Holy crap!" I was stunned. Nicole wasn't much bigger than I was. "You play quads?"
"Have for two years."
"Then why'd you try out for Crown's pit?"
"Because when I signed in at the Crown audition, the guy working the table laughed at me when I wrote down quads under instrument. He even had the audacity to look me in the eye and say 'you wish'."
"Are you kidding me? What an ass! If I were you, I would have auditioned just in spite of him!"
"Normally, I would have," Nicole said, taking a sip of her drink, "but that guy was the percussion director."
"You're joking!"
"No, I wish I was."
I couldn't think of anything to say.
"I had been in the pit for the first two years of high school, so I was pretty sure that it wouldn't be too hard to go back. But I love playing quads, and I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I'm good at it. Even though I really wanted to be part of the Crown, I knew that I would be miserable in the pit. And I didn't like the pit director, like I told you. So I never came back for the second day of auditions."
I just stared at her. Part of me was shocked, and part of me wasn't surprised at all.
"I don't understand why people think that the only place for girls in drum corps is in the guard. I think girls can play just as well as guys if their given the opportunity. The problem is they never were, until now. I really hope that this corp can prove it."
"Wow," I said, "that's some pretty powerful stuff."
"So, why did you try out?" Nicole asked.
"I wish I could say my story was as good as yours, but it's not. I actually was talked into it by a friend," I said.
"Oh, she needed a buddy to try out with?"
"No, actually, Em's already been accepted into the corp of her choice. For some unknown reason, she desperately wanted me to do DCI too, and she thought that this would be a good corp to audition for."
"Who's she march for?" Nicole asked.
"She's in the pit for the Bluecoats."
"How come you didn't do the Bluecoats if you're from around here?"
"Because," I said, taking the last bite of my sandwich, "I'm not staying here for college. And I don't really like the Bluecoats."
"Where are you going to college?" Nicole asked.
"I was going to UCLA so I could march with the Blue Devils. But since I didn't get accepted with them, I'm not exactly sure."
"You tried out for the Blue Devils?"
"Yeah," I said, "but I got a sinus infection the week of the audition and couldn't play. It sucked."
"That would suck," Nicole said.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It told me that I was suppose to be home an hour ago. Arg.
"We'll," I told Nicole, "I got to go. It was nice meeting you."
"Yes," she said, "I hope I'll get to see you at mini-camp."
"Me too."
I walked in the door at 9:45, almost three hours after I was suppose to be home. My parents were going to be pissed. I was grounded for sure.
Instead, I was handed a letter with a return address of the admissions office of UCLA.
"We've been waiting for you all day," my mom said.
It was the moment of truth. Whatever was in this envelope was going to decide my future, and more importantly (or it least it was at that moment) whether I was going to be able to march for the Dragons next year.
I opened letter and read the first line out loud.
Dear Melody,
We are sorry to inform you…
I didn't have to read anymore.
It was fate.