Chapter One
I can still remember the first day I met her. It was the first day of hell, or other wise
known as band camp. It is two weeks of learning the basics and the first part of the half
time show in hot temperatures and high humidity. My first alarm went off playing one of
my weird CDs I had collected among the years. I didn't actually get up until my second
alarm went off forty-five minutes later. I groggily got out of bed and looked myself in the
mirror.
I was an average soon to be sophomore. I had blonde hair with a reddish tint to it
and I was covered in freckles. My hair rested right on the tip of my ears, I had cut in
short in preparation for the summer. I put my little oval glasses on and prepared for
hell. I wore a light colored shirt and shorts with tennis shoes. I greased myself up with
sunscreen and filled my gallon water bottle up with ice and then pored the water in.
Once I actually got to the band hall I found my little group huddled near the
blackboard gossiping among themselves. I had seen most of them over the summer or
had talked to them through the internet.
"Hi Allie!" one my closest friend said as I approached.
"Hi Rene," I said smiling, placing my case down at my feet. It hadn't been touched
since the spring concert a few months ago. I wasn't the most dedicated band member. I
was happy to be back with the band. It wasn't long till she arrived.
She came in through the back door. She was as misplaced and outlandish as an
alien. She wore a neon green tube top with a white tank top over it that had been cut
down the middle. She wore short khaki shorts that had poke-a-dotted patches all over
it. She wore tan leather short books with one white sock that had little pom-poms all
over it and the other was blue striped. Her hair was a golden blonde and was pulled
back into many little pony tails. Little braids escaped from the mess of hair in every
other spot. Her skin was a rich tan and her eyes a deep . . . purple. They were purple!
It was like she was looking for me for the moment her eyes set on me she smiled
and walked over. I had yet to figure out what her instrument was. The case was the
size of a saxophone or a trumpet. It was painted with many tribal designs. The whole
band hall was looking at her. She walked over to me, plopped her case on the floor and
extended her hand.
"Hello I'm Fedeyushka Rayshaun!"
I was speechless and didn't know hot to react.
"Hi, I'm Allie Winn," I said dryly holding out my uncertain hand. She smiled. My little
group of friends had gone silent and were all staring at her. Cj, another one friends
moved her way forward and smiled at Fedeyushka. Cj wasn't shy and loved to meet
interesting.
"I'm Cj. You must be new here?" she asked.
Fedeyushka smiled in reply. "What did you say your name was?" Cj asked as
politely as she could.
"Fedeyushka Rayshaun, but you can just call me Yushka. It's easier to say."
The rest of my friends introduced themselves. In that time we had figured out
Yushka played trumpet and had just moved in two days ago. From a very reliable
source she had figured out that band camp was starting today. Her parents had
registered in the school last month, so she knew her name would be on the roster.
Rene asked where she had moved from. I was wondering that myself considering the
weird accent she had. It was a mix of English, Australian, and Russian almost.
"Ah a little place in Russia. It's the part that's in Europe."
The group could only really nod in reply. A little while after that the two band
conductors walked in followed by the two drum majors. Mr. Joe, the man who was in
charge of everything, walked up to the podium. He smiled and whistle, which brought
all two hundred plus students to a quiet hush.
Everyone sat down as he started his welcome back speech and talked about our
goals for the year. He also checked attendance, and had trouble with Yushka's name.
After his twenty long speech and greeting to all new students and freshman he told the
sections to go outside and get to know one-another. I got up with Yushka when they
called the trumpets and we all filed outside. Yushka turned to me.
"Why do you call them sections?"
"What?" I said not really understanding it.
"Why do you call the different instruments sections?" From the way she asked it I
could tell she wasn't kidding.
"Because they're a section of the band," I informed her.
"Oh . . ." she said.
"You've never heard them called that before? What did they call them in your
school?"
"Well this is my first real school I've attended. I was just educated with the rest of
my cousins my age by some relative of mine." I just stared at her, my blue eyes trying
not to meet her purple eyes. After a while we got to know our section and our three
section leaders with only a section of seventeen trumpets. We were one of the smallest
sections. Sadly we had an over population of woodwinds. For some odd reason two
thirds of the sophomores in band were woodwinds, one third of that was flutes. We had
too many flutes.
Sometimes I got jealous of the flute section since at least four of my friends were a
flute player. They were all happy and close section. Unlike mine which was mostly
guys, but I'm glad I wasn't a woodwind. They had too many keys to remember. I had
just simply three, and even with those three I have problems remembering notes. How
woodwinds did it, I have yet to discover the reason. Then the majority of them have to
stick part of the instrument in their mouth.
The week continued on and Yushka and I became better friends. It was nice to
have a girl to talk to. The other girls were either really tomboy-ish or just not the type of
people I hung around. I did have guy friends within the section, but I could only enjoy
being around them when the rest of the section wasn't around. Sadly one of them had
a huge crush on me.
Yushka was a very interesting person. She liked to pounce on our section leaders.
When they had their backs turned Yushka would strike, bringing the both of them to the
ground. She would get up run away with hands outstretched like she was pretending to
be an airplane. You would only see her again when she was pouncing on someone
else.
Of course it just wasn't the trumpet section leaders that pounced on. Yushka would
occasionally pounce on a flute or two when they weren't looking. Mostly they were
freshman. The poor things all suffering from heat and lack of water and them all the
sudden some whacked out trumpet just comes and jumps on bringing you into the dirt
and grass. Of course the majority of people knew this was just a joke, the trumpet
section leaders really didn't mind. Yet the flute section leader had given Yushka a good
warning about terrorizing her section. Of course that just made the rest of the trumpets
encourage Yushka to attack some more people.
Besides pouncing on people, Yushka had never marched before, or had seen any
marching band perform before. It was all new to her: the marching, the playing, the
playing and marching at the same time, watching the drum major. She never
complained though. She almost enjoyed everything and was always happy. Of course
the only bad thing was that she saluted the conductors and the drum majors. She
would walk up to them and put her ankles together and salute them like a Nazi and
shout "Hail O Mighty One!" Then she would dart off somewhere. Yet that is what she
called them- O Mighty Ones.
It was late in the afternoon at the end of the first week of band camp. We sat alone
in the football stadium; everyone else had already gone home. I waited with Yushka for
our ride, because I had learned she just down the street from me. The football team
was practicing near the baseball field. I was off daydreaming when I noticed Yushka
watching something. I looked down to the field. A lone football player stood on the thirty
yard line looking at the two of us. His was drenched in sweat with his shoulder pads
and short jockey shorts and cleats. Yet he was looking at Yushka smiling. It almost
freaked me out.
"Damn," I heard Yushka mumbled.
"Eh?" I asked.
"I didn't think the Agastyas would look for the Ophilium as well."
"Eh? Say that again."
Yushka quickly removed her trumpet from the case. I was dumbfounded and had
no clue what she was doing. I looked down at the football player who was still smiling. It
was like he had wanted her to do that. I was still confused, but I was even more
confused when the shoulder pads on the player started to emit a silver light. It was very
weird! The padding was morphing, changing into something else. I couldn't believe it.
I looked over at Yushka and to my surprise she was smiling. She held her horn in
front of her and a golden light start to come from her trumpet. It became noodle-like
and it too started to transformed. I looked back and forth from the two people with the
morphing lights. I didn't know what I was seeing nor what was going to happen.
I can still remember the first day I met her. It was the first day of hell, or other wise
known as band camp. It is two weeks of learning the basics and the first part of the half
time show in hot temperatures and high humidity. My first alarm went off playing one of
my weird CDs I had collected among the years. I didn't actually get up until my second
alarm went off forty-five minutes later. I groggily got out of bed and looked myself in the
mirror.
I was an average soon to be sophomore. I had blonde hair with a reddish tint to it
and I was covered in freckles. My hair rested right on the tip of my ears, I had cut in
short in preparation for the summer. I put my little oval glasses on and prepared for
hell. I wore a light colored shirt and shorts with tennis shoes. I greased myself up with
sunscreen and filled my gallon water bottle up with ice and then pored the water in.
Once I actually got to the band hall I found my little group huddled near the
blackboard gossiping among themselves. I had seen most of them over the summer or
had talked to them through the internet.
"Hi Allie!" one my closest friend said as I approached.
"Hi Rene," I said smiling, placing my case down at my feet. It hadn't been touched
since the spring concert a few months ago. I wasn't the most dedicated band member. I
was happy to be back with the band. It wasn't long till she arrived.
She came in through the back door. She was as misplaced and outlandish as an
alien. She wore a neon green tube top with a white tank top over it that had been cut
down the middle. She wore short khaki shorts that had poke-a-dotted patches all over
it. She wore tan leather short books with one white sock that had little pom-poms all
over it and the other was blue striped. Her hair was a golden blonde and was pulled
back into many little pony tails. Little braids escaped from the mess of hair in every
other spot. Her skin was a rich tan and her eyes a deep . . . purple. They were purple!
It was like she was looking for me for the moment her eyes set on me she smiled
and walked over. I had yet to figure out what her instrument was. The case was the
size of a saxophone or a trumpet. It was painted with many tribal designs. The whole
band hall was looking at her. She walked over to me, plopped her case on the floor and
extended her hand.
"Hello I'm Fedeyushka Rayshaun!"
I was speechless and didn't know hot to react.
"Hi, I'm Allie Winn," I said dryly holding out my uncertain hand. She smiled. My little
group of friends had gone silent and were all staring at her. Cj, another one friends
moved her way forward and smiled at Fedeyushka. Cj wasn't shy and loved to meet
interesting.
"I'm Cj. You must be new here?" she asked.
Fedeyushka smiled in reply. "What did you say your name was?" Cj asked as
politely as she could.
"Fedeyushka Rayshaun, but you can just call me Yushka. It's easier to say."
The rest of my friends introduced themselves. In that time we had figured out
Yushka played trumpet and had just moved in two days ago. From a very reliable
source she had figured out that band camp was starting today. Her parents had
registered in the school last month, so she knew her name would be on the roster.
Rene asked where she had moved from. I was wondering that myself considering the
weird accent she had. It was a mix of English, Australian, and Russian almost.
"Ah a little place in Russia. It's the part that's in Europe."
The group could only really nod in reply. A little while after that the two band
conductors walked in followed by the two drum majors. Mr. Joe, the man who was in
charge of everything, walked up to the podium. He smiled and whistle, which brought
all two hundred plus students to a quiet hush.
Everyone sat down as he started his welcome back speech and talked about our
goals for the year. He also checked attendance, and had trouble with Yushka's name.
After his twenty long speech and greeting to all new students and freshman he told the
sections to go outside and get to know one-another. I got up with Yushka when they
called the trumpets and we all filed outside. Yushka turned to me.
"Why do you call them sections?"
"What?" I said not really understanding it.
"Why do you call the different instruments sections?" From the way she asked it I
could tell she wasn't kidding.
"Because they're a section of the band," I informed her.
"Oh . . ." she said.
"You've never heard them called that before? What did they call them in your
school?"
"Well this is my first real school I've attended. I was just educated with the rest of
my cousins my age by some relative of mine." I just stared at her, my blue eyes trying
not to meet her purple eyes. After a while we got to know our section and our three
section leaders with only a section of seventeen trumpets. We were one of the smallest
sections. Sadly we had an over population of woodwinds. For some odd reason two
thirds of the sophomores in band were woodwinds, one third of that was flutes. We had
too many flutes.
Sometimes I got jealous of the flute section since at least four of my friends were a
flute player. They were all happy and close section. Unlike mine which was mostly
guys, but I'm glad I wasn't a woodwind. They had too many keys to remember. I had
just simply three, and even with those three I have problems remembering notes. How
woodwinds did it, I have yet to discover the reason. Then the majority of them have to
stick part of the instrument in their mouth.
The week continued on and Yushka and I became better friends. It was nice to
have a girl to talk to. The other girls were either really tomboy-ish or just not the type of
people I hung around. I did have guy friends within the section, but I could only enjoy
being around them when the rest of the section wasn't around. Sadly one of them had
a huge crush on me.
Yushka was a very interesting person. She liked to pounce on our section leaders.
When they had their backs turned Yushka would strike, bringing the both of them to the
ground. She would get up run away with hands outstretched like she was pretending to
be an airplane. You would only see her again when she was pouncing on someone
else.
Of course it just wasn't the trumpet section leaders that pounced on. Yushka would
occasionally pounce on a flute or two when they weren't looking. Mostly they were
freshman. The poor things all suffering from heat and lack of water and them all the
sudden some whacked out trumpet just comes and jumps on bringing you into the dirt
and grass. Of course the majority of people knew this was just a joke, the trumpet
section leaders really didn't mind. Yet the flute section leader had given Yushka a good
warning about terrorizing her section. Of course that just made the rest of the trumpets
encourage Yushka to attack some more people.
Besides pouncing on people, Yushka had never marched before, or had seen any
marching band perform before. It was all new to her: the marching, the playing, the
playing and marching at the same time, watching the drum major. She never
complained though. She almost enjoyed everything and was always happy. Of course
the only bad thing was that she saluted the conductors and the drum majors. She
would walk up to them and put her ankles together and salute them like a Nazi and
shout "Hail O Mighty One!" Then she would dart off somewhere. Yet that is what she
called them- O Mighty Ones.
It was late in the afternoon at the end of the first week of band camp. We sat alone
in the football stadium; everyone else had already gone home. I waited with Yushka for
our ride, because I had learned she just down the street from me. The football team
was practicing near the baseball field. I was off daydreaming when I noticed Yushka
watching something. I looked down to the field. A lone football player stood on the thirty
yard line looking at the two of us. His was drenched in sweat with his shoulder pads
and short jockey shorts and cleats. Yet he was looking at Yushka smiling. It almost
freaked me out.
"Damn," I heard Yushka mumbled.
"Eh?" I asked.
"I didn't think the Agastyas would look for the Ophilium as well."
"Eh? Say that again."
Yushka quickly removed her trumpet from the case. I was dumbfounded and had
no clue what she was doing. I looked down at the football player who was still smiling. It
was like he had wanted her to do that. I was still confused, but I was even more
confused when the shoulder pads on the player started to emit a silver light. It was very
weird! The padding was morphing, changing into something else. I couldn't believe it.
I looked over at Yushka and to my surprise she was smiling. She held her horn in
front of her and a golden light start to come from her trumpet. It became noodle-like
and it too started to transformed. I looked back and forth from the two people with the
morphing lights. I didn't know what I was seeing nor what was going to happen.
