CHAPTER 2: The Sound of the Whistle
In the center of a small field, a couple hundred paces wide, a ripple of dead and dying pale orange and flesh colored grasses and weeds exploded out, followed by small bushes and trees that grew into the to the great redwood forests down to the south, and at last the far off mountains of dark red the last that could be seen by naked eyes.
The southern forest stretched for miles down the coast, and only one small piece of beach jutting out at the southeast end of the peninsula was able to be seen. Later a trail was made from the field between where the forests parted down through the cliffs to the beach.
In the center of a small beach, a couple hundred paces wide, the ripple of sand threw small pieces of dead and dying grasses and seaweed toward the gentle cliffs, tall redwoods loomed over the edge, their internal eyes of small creatures peered curiously through tall branches and holes covered by dead bark at the new inhabitants gathering in a forest above and behind the beach. The field and the beach were synonymous to the band members, as the only two inhabitable areas, good and bad each for its separate reasons.
The air was damp and the ground was cool, and high at the northeast corner of the field where the grass met the trees stood a single mound, laden with sticks and stones, and written into the dirt next to it the name, "Chris."
No one had ever liked this particular percussionist, for his eccentric and annoying nature, except one girl, who had liked his face. She remembered when she had been just the very same as he, and now she had grown into a beloved band member, and had pity on the misunderstood and shunned. She stood alone at his shoddy grave, fixing here and smoothing there, till her face lifted to the air and she heard 3 sharp blasts from a whistle, and every other, who had been off exploring the land, or tending to a hurt soul, or rummaging though what belongings had been saved, lifted up their heads, and came curiously to the whistle.
In the center of the field James stood on his tuba case, piled around were all the other instruments salvaged from the underneath the wreck. He drew 3 bold blows on the whistle again, till enough came to look like a majority of the band. In fact every single member was there, minus one percussionist, and the absence was from those hiding, or afraid, or crying in a shadowed corner behind a friend or buried deep in the tall grass.
James looked the whistle, held it in his palm, then looked over the crowd of solemn faces. He removed his sunglasses from his clean cut face, drew in a deep breath from the very depths of his lungs and shouted:
"This is not mine." He held up the whistle clutched in his right, unbroken hand. Only the string could be seen dangling from his tight fist. "This is the drum major's." He shot a look in the corner where Zach was standing, looking up at him. He smiled sadly from the corner of his mouth. James looked forward and continued. "This is the symbol of authority. You all will listen to it and obey it. This will be just like practice, except no more screwing around, 'cause now we have lives in the balance." He swallowed hard. "Someone has died already. Well, two, if you count the bus driver. I don't know how long we're gonna be stuck here, but if we want to get out of here, we have to listen to authority. And Zach is that authority. But for the time being, he has let me speak. Ok, listen up. Were going to have rules. The same rules as before. Seniority is a giving."
Somewhere in the crowd the colorguard captain raised her voice in protest. James shot her a cold look and shouted again, "SENIORITY is a given. And I don't want any crap about it." Judy crossed her arms at him and pouted. "Serves you right, bitch!" Ray whispered to some others with a laugh. Ray had pulled out her bari sax case and sat on it, with a grin a mile wide, next to Renee who gave up on her round tenor case and made a spot on Ray's, and Chelsea who had pulled out her alto sax and climbed and sat onto it lengthwise to make her several feet taller.
"That's all to say now...so...go back to whatever you were going."
While everyone got up, one hand was left in the air. James turned back around with an annoyed, "Yes?"
"Where are we gonna sleep?" The little clarinet stood up and wringed her hands.
"I don't know, we'll get to that later."
She opened her mouth to say something again, but then pulled her mouth shut and slunk away.
* * * * *
James hurried back to Zach, with several others.
"What the hell are we going to do?" James reclined on a snare case next to Zach, who was leaning forward elbows on knees with his hands clasped around his drumsticks nervously, a band shirt wrapped over his neck and upper back. He continued to look down.
Chelsea sat closslegged and camouflaged in the long grass. "Hows the bus?" she asked James.
"We opened the windows but its still smoky...I don't if its more dangerous to sleep out in the open or to risk a night's worth of smoke and crap baking in your lungs. What's around here anyway?"
Zach spoke up. "What about those cliffs down by the beach? Has anyone gone and taken a good look at them?"
"They're not real steep," Mary said, fingering a quick song on her clarinet. "And its just bare rock. Really nothing."
Everyone looked at each other. "Ok...so we've got this field, a bunch of trees, a beach and some cliffs?" Gary asked.
They all shrugged affirmatively. "Well I vote for the bus then." He picked up his clarinet case and backpack and flung them in the general direction. "Anyone else?"
"Shoot, I don't know what else to do!" Zach said overwhelmed.
"Oh come on, you can swear...just say it. Where not at school anymore."
"But we are in uniform."
"Only half way. Its not a true uniform without the jacket."
"So what?"
"Nevermind."
Gary picked up his junk and walked to the bus. It was not covered in leaves and sap from the tree in front of it on the west edge of the field on the forest's border. The doors were broken open and unable to be closed.
They all waked toward the wreck and gave it a good look. Brian tapped it with his fist a few times. "It was a good bus."
"And now it's got to be a good home." Gary said from a window. "Its still smoky in here a bit, but its not too bad. Id rather be coughing than frozen. Its getting really cold at night, you guys. This is the only way."
"How are we gonna fit all these kids lyin down in one bus?"
Renee reflected for a second. One to a seat, then theres enough room on the floor under the seats for the tall kids since where wont be any feet, then if we really need to we can send some down underneath with the cases." She smiled and punched Chelsea in the arm. "We can put all the little ones on the back dashboard."
"Hey shutup." Chelsea smiled. She looked down and asked, "Can I have seniority over the sophomores? I mean I know ive only been in band for 2 years, but I am a junior...you know I wont abuse it or anything."
Zach smiled. "Ill think about it."
Ryan looked around. "Its getting dark. And cold. And I bet everyones getting hungry. What about a fire? We can have it right there, if we clear it out."
"Go get some wood then."
Ryan obeyed and then turned around halfway.
"Hey Zach...what about assigning jobs to people, you know, so things can get done?
"Hey yeah!" Said Mary. "I call being in charge of food!"
"Hey, no! That's goin to the most trusted person here. Hey, James...you and the low brass get food duty." Zach tossed him a branch.
"Dammit, don't make everyone coming to me askin for stuff...aww damnit, Zach!" He laughed at him in a downhearted way.
"Ok then. Ryan. Go get wood."
"Sir, yes, sir!" He smiled widely and walked along the edge of the forest, picking up large branches and handing them so the several who came along with him. He listened to the whistle calling every member, watched the boys run back with the wood and a giant bonfire being created in the pit next to the bus, like a beacon of hope from so far away where Ryan was standing. Chelsea stood beside him with a armful of wood, feeling the same warmth from a fire that was so far away. He turned and led them back and brought the wood toward the flame, taller than he was, and the entire band stood looking upon it, consuming and lighting their hopes and survival simultaneously, the signal fire for a new beginning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: for a _very_ crude map - (ww.deviantart.com/deviation/4020308/)
In the center of a small field, a couple hundred paces wide, a ripple of dead and dying pale orange and flesh colored grasses and weeds exploded out, followed by small bushes and trees that grew into the to the great redwood forests down to the south, and at last the far off mountains of dark red the last that could be seen by naked eyes.
The southern forest stretched for miles down the coast, and only one small piece of beach jutting out at the southeast end of the peninsula was able to be seen. Later a trail was made from the field between where the forests parted down through the cliffs to the beach.
In the center of a small beach, a couple hundred paces wide, the ripple of sand threw small pieces of dead and dying grasses and seaweed toward the gentle cliffs, tall redwoods loomed over the edge, their internal eyes of small creatures peered curiously through tall branches and holes covered by dead bark at the new inhabitants gathering in a forest above and behind the beach. The field and the beach were synonymous to the band members, as the only two inhabitable areas, good and bad each for its separate reasons.
The air was damp and the ground was cool, and high at the northeast corner of the field where the grass met the trees stood a single mound, laden with sticks and stones, and written into the dirt next to it the name, "Chris."
No one had ever liked this particular percussionist, for his eccentric and annoying nature, except one girl, who had liked his face. She remembered when she had been just the very same as he, and now she had grown into a beloved band member, and had pity on the misunderstood and shunned. She stood alone at his shoddy grave, fixing here and smoothing there, till her face lifted to the air and she heard 3 sharp blasts from a whistle, and every other, who had been off exploring the land, or tending to a hurt soul, or rummaging though what belongings had been saved, lifted up their heads, and came curiously to the whistle.
In the center of the field James stood on his tuba case, piled around were all the other instruments salvaged from the underneath the wreck. He drew 3 bold blows on the whistle again, till enough came to look like a majority of the band. In fact every single member was there, minus one percussionist, and the absence was from those hiding, or afraid, or crying in a shadowed corner behind a friend or buried deep in the tall grass.
James looked the whistle, held it in his palm, then looked over the crowd of solemn faces. He removed his sunglasses from his clean cut face, drew in a deep breath from the very depths of his lungs and shouted:
"This is not mine." He held up the whistle clutched in his right, unbroken hand. Only the string could be seen dangling from his tight fist. "This is the drum major's." He shot a look in the corner where Zach was standing, looking up at him. He smiled sadly from the corner of his mouth. James looked forward and continued. "This is the symbol of authority. You all will listen to it and obey it. This will be just like practice, except no more screwing around, 'cause now we have lives in the balance." He swallowed hard. "Someone has died already. Well, two, if you count the bus driver. I don't know how long we're gonna be stuck here, but if we want to get out of here, we have to listen to authority. And Zach is that authority. But for the time being, he has let me speak. Ok, listen up. Were going to have rules. The same rules as before. Seniority is a giving."
Somewhere in the crowd the colorguard captain raised her voice in protest. James shot her a cold look and shouted again, "SENIORITY is a given. And I don't want any crap about it." Judy crossed her arms at him and pouted. "Serves you right, bitch!" Ray whispered to some others with a laugh. Ray had pulled out her bari sax case and sat on it, with a grin a mile wide, next to Renee who gave up on her round tenor case and made a spot on Ray's, and Chelsea who had pulled out her alto sax and climbed and sat onto it lengthwise to make her several feet taller.
"That's all to say now...so...go back to whatever you were going."
While everyone got up, one hand was left in the air. James turned back around with an annoyed, "Yes?"
"Where are we gonna sleep?" The little clarinet stood up and wringed her hands.
"I don't know, we'll get to that later."
She opened her mouth to say something again, but then pulled her mouth shut and slunk away.
* * * * *
James hurried back to Zach, with several others.
"What the hell are we going to do?" James reclined on a snare case next to Zach, who was leaning forward elbows on knees with his hands clasped around his drumsticks nervously, a band shirt wrapped over his neck and upper back. He continued to look down.
Chelsea sat closslegged and camouflaged in the long grass. "Hows the bus?" she asked James.
"We opened the windows but its still smoky...I don't if its more dangerous to sleep out in the open or to risk a night's worth of smoke and crap baking in your lungs. What's around here anyway?"
Zach spoke up. "What about those cliffs down by the beach? Has anyone gone and taken a good look at them?"
"They're not real steep," Mary said, fingering a quick song on her clarinet. "And its just bare rock. Really nothing."
Everyone looked at each other. "Ok...so we've got this field, a bunch of trees, a beach and some cliffs?" Gary asked.
They all shrugged affirmatively. "Well I vote for the bus then." He picked up his clarinet case and backpack and flung them in the general direction. "Anyone else?"
"Shoot, I don't know what else to do!" Zach said overwhelmed.
"Oh come on, you can swear...just say it. Where not at school anymore."
"But we are in uniform."
"Only half way. Its not a true uniform without the jacket."
"So what?"
"Nevermind."
Gary picked up his junk and walked to the bus. It was not covered in leaves and sap from the tree in front of it on the west edge of the field on the forest's border. The doors were broken open and unable to be closed.
They all waked toward the wreck and gave it a good look. Brian tapped it with his fist a few times. "It was a good bus."
"And now it's got to be a good home." Gary said from a window. "Its still smoky in here a bit, but its not too bad. Id rather be coughing than frozen. Its getting really cold at night, you guys. This is the only way."
"How are we gonna fit all these kids lyin down in one bus?"
Renee reflected for a second. One to a seat, then theres enough room on the floor under the seats for the tall kids since where wont be any feet, then if we really need to we can send some down underneath with the cases." She smiled and punched Chelsea in the arm. "We can put all the little ones on the back dashboard."
"Hey shutup." Chelsea smiled. She looked down and asked, "Can I have seniority over the sophomores? I mean I know ive only been in band for 2 years, but I am a junior...you know I wont abuse it or anything."
Zach smiled. "Ill think about it."
Ryan looked around. "Its getting dark. And cold. And I bet everyones getting hungry. What about a fire? We can have it right there, if we clear it out."
"Go get some wood then."
Ryan obeyed and then turned around halfway.
"Hey Zach...what about assigning jobs to people, you know, so things can get done?
"Hey yeah!" Said Mary. "I call being in charge of food!"
"Hey, no! That's goin to the most trusted person here. Hey, James...you and the low brass get food duty." Zach tossed him a branch.
"Dammit, don't make everyone coming to me askin for stuff...aww damnit, Zach!" He laughed at him in a downhearted way.
"Ok then. Ryan. Go get wood."
"Sir, yes, sir!" He smiled widely and walked along the edge of the forest, picking up large branches and handing them so the several who came along with him. He listened to the whistle calling every member, watched the boys run back with the wood and a giant bonfire being created in the pit next to the bus, like a beacon of hope from so far away where Ryan was standing. Chelsea stood beside him with a armful of wood, feeling the same warmth from a fire that was so far away. He turned and led them back and brought the wood toward the flame, taller than he was, and the entire band stood looking upon it, consuming and lighting their hopes and survival simultaneously, the signal fire for a new beginning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: for a _very_ crude map - (ww.deviantart.com/deviation/4020308/)