AN: The last chapter. Hope you enjoy (and review!)
BOA Tampa
A week later Phoenix and Ally climbed off the bus along with the rest of the Oakpine High School marching band, pumped up for their competition performance. As Ally took her bass drum out of its case, her heart rate spiked up in anticipation. She was nervous about the show the band would march just two short hours from now. Because at this show, judges in green BOA polo shirts would chase them around the field while keeping up a constant monologue about the performance on small handheld tape recorders. Those tapes would decide whether or not the band would advance to the finals. Ally shook her head, trying not to dwell on this nerve-racking reality.
On Ally's left, Jason hefted the giant fifth bass onto his shoulders. To her right, Dan was busy tightly taping Kerri's uniform jacket sleeves and helping her Velcro on her gauntlets over them. After the drummers had all pulled out their drums and slid their cases back into the compartments under the bus, it was time to warm up.
In the warm up area, Matt led them through Eights and Double Beat to loosen up their wrists, and then did some last minute snare tuning. Although everyone on the battery was at least faintly nervous, they were all confident in their ability to march a clean show. Matt said a few words of encouragement to them, and then they joined the rest of the band for a short physical warm up of stretching and a basics marching block. The rest of the warm up time passed in a blur. All too soon the band was lined up in the tunnel, waiting to march onto the domed field.
Dan tapped everyone on to the field with full confidence. The two drum majors called a halt when they reached the fifty yard line at the very center of the field. On their command, the band scattered to their places for the opening set of the show. Phoenix could hardly stand still on her dot because she was so excited. She didn't feel even a trace of nerves now that they were actually standing on the field, waiting to start the show.
Jordan, standing on the drum majors' podium, called, "Set!" Everyone's instruments snapped up to attention. At the call "Band horns up!" all the instruments were brought up to playing position simultaneously. Finally he yelled, "Mark time, mark!" Dan dutted for four counts and the show began.
The opener went by smoothly, with only a few dropped notes from someone in the low brass section. The ballad also went well; the flute soloist played perfectly. As the battery came back into view from behind the props for the drum solo, a judge appeared in front of them, monologing to his tape recorder. The judge had to jog backwards to stay in front of the battery while they marched toward the front sideline, playing their series of complicated licks.
Phoenix's heart skipped a beat during the drum solo as she remembered that fateful football game. But she forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing now, not then. The pit and battery managed to pull off the cleanest run of the solo yet of their marching season. The drum solo neatly flowed into the closer, which finished the show with a bang, literally.
The band marched off the field and into the tunnel to the sound of the cheering crowd. Everyone in the marching band smiled triumphantly at each other while Samantha, Jordan, and the directors congratulated them on an excellent preliminary performance. Then they walked back to the buses, where they put away their instruments and uniforms.
Once everyone was comfortably out of their polyester uniforms, the directors lead the band to another building on the competition site for the tradition nap between the prelims and finals performances. While the exhausted band members gratefully stretched out on the thinly carpeted floor, the drum majors and directors walked back to the dome for the prelims awards and placements. An hour later they returned to the band with their news.
Samantha was chosen to relay the results to the band. She stood at the front of the large room and loudly cleared her throat. All eyes immediately turned to her. "Well, guys," Samantha grinned, "we made finals!" Everyone cheered. "Our performance tonight is at 8:45, so we'll probably be able to watch a few of the bands after us. But right now we're going to eat some delicious Moe's for dinner and then get suited up. Inspection is in an hour, at 7:15."
Everyone got to their feet to claim their Moe's burrito dinner. As usual, the drumline ate together. Dinner passed in the normal manner of laughing and joking while everyone hungrily wolfed down their food. After they ate, the drummers got into uniform and pulled out their drums for the second time that day in preparation for inspection.
Exactly one hour after Samantha's announcement, the entire band was silently assembled for inspection. Section leaders checked the members of their section for gloves, black (not navy blue) socks, polished shoes, clean uniforms, instruments in working order, and, for the girls, hair neatly pulled back in a bun. As usual, everyone passed, and the band was ready to march down to the warm up area.
The warm up passed by with no trouble and soon the band was standing in their opening set on the domed field, once again ready to deliver a stunning performance. "Mark time, mark!" Jordan yelled. Dut, dut, dut, dut. The show was underway in finals performance. It seemed like only a minute had passed before the final note was played and the band stepped back into what the trumpet section leader had dubbed "the superman pose" from their closing set. The crowd erupted in applause as they marched off the field to Dan's taps.
In the tunnel Dan commented to the other snares, "That was an amazing run." They all completely agreed.
The band filed into the stands with their instruments to watch the remaining four bands before the awards ceremony. Everyone was antsy and eager to know how the judges had scored their performance. An hour later, all the competing bands marched back onto the field for awards and retreat.
The award ceremony went by slowly. Phoenix waited attentively for their class 5A awards to be called. They won best general effect, but best musical performance went to a school called Black Forest from North Carolina and best drill performance was awarded to Orange Grove, a local Tampa high school. At last the overall placements, what everyone was so patiently waiting for, were called out.
Tenth place…Kruper's Hill High School from Georgia. Ninth place…Droben High School from South Carolina. Eventually it was down to the top final two bands, and Oakpine High School still had yet to be called.
"And in second place," the announcer said, "we have…Black Forest High School! Congratulations to our Region Champions the Oakpine High School Marching Wolves and to everyone on the field today. You are all winners in life. Now, when I give the word, you may break rank to congratulate, compliment, and celebrate with each other. Go ahead, break rank!"
Everyone in the Oakpine band screamed in excitement. Ally and Phoenix hugged each other and jumped excitedly despite the tenor hooks on Phoenix's harness poking into Ally's ribs. The entire band was seemed to be one massive, hugging group. Eventually the drumline broke away from their band and wandered through the crowd to talk to people from other bands, but not before Matt had brought them their medals. Matt shook the handful of medals and asked, "Who wants some bling?"
The drummers all smiled with pride as he put the medals around each one's neck.
At last the field was cleared of all the other marching bands, directors, and chaperones. The Oakpine Marching Wolves happily set up for the traditional victory run of the show. Some of the winds could hardly play for smiling, but the drummers easily hit all their notes with giant grins on their faces. When the show was over and the victorious band marched off the field one final time, Phoenix couldn't help but think I have my life on the line back.
AN: So now that the story is finished, I would really like to know if you thought it was crap or not. I would highly appreciate your opinion. Thanks!