Check out Art of Music – Somewei just posted a new chapter for our little project.
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I do own the characters.
Chapter 2: Damn, It Feels Good to be a Drum Major…
"All the sounds of the earth are like music…
Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day.
I've got a beautiful feelin'
Everything's goin' my way."
- Oh, What a Beautiful Morning, Rodgers and Hammerstein
So we back marched, high stepped, about faced, and did all kinds of marching round and round the parking lot. Most of us were rusty, but somehow managed to keep it together. I didn't 'win' but I was also, surprisingly, among the last three still standing. Not unexpected, Todd (a brilliant baritone) and Jenny (a high strung clarinetist) were the last two competing, with Jenny pulling out the overall win on the drilldown. Throughout our time on the blacktop, Mr. Jenkins was making notes. I tried not to be nervous.
Afterwards, he announced, "That was a great effort. Now, it's your turn. I'd like to see each of you call out the commands. Jenny, as the winner, you'll be first and we'll make sure everyone gets a chance after you. Please take the block around the parking lot. Marti, you'll fall in, and gang, if you miss the call, like before, please fall out of the block."
So, one by one, we each had a turn at clapping and calling. Some of the other candidates might have had this experience before during the season or at some point during sectionals, but in the Line we never did any extra marching, and we certainly didn't step out of the bass line to practice calling out "Crabstep, huh!" Anyway, everything aside, I really think I did okay. My voice was strong, my commands were perfectly in time, and I was able to mess a few people up with my calls. Not really used to doing the whole block thing on a regular basis, I had people going back and forth and all over. When I dared look over at Mr. Jenkins, I'm pretty sure I saw a smile on his face.
By the time we got through everyone, a good two hours had passed. When the last candidate, a timid sophomore, finished, Mr. Jenkins stepped forward and said, "I'd like to thank everyone for coming out today. Please check the band room tomorrow morning for your assigned time for tomorrow afternoon to conduct your prepared piece. As the info mentioned, your selection should be less than five minutes, and include both 2/4 and 4/4 time, most preferably a march as well. Please bring your music on CD."
We all nodded.
Our band director finished by saying, "Great job today, kids. Thanks for your effort!"
Unlike a normal practice where everyone socialized for at least twenty minutes afterwards, the group broke up awkwardly. Due to the high emotions that were riding on the drum major decision, it wasn't really a time to hang out. I had also conveniently forgotten that Marti and Jenny were best friends. The two walked off towards the parking lot together, leaving me to wonder if my goal to become drum major was really just a dream. However, it also immediately occurred to me that if I hadn't at least tried, I would always wonder how things would've turned out.
Driving home in my beat up Volvo station wagon (I shared it with Jude), I half expected to get a call, or have missed a call from Everett. I'm sure he knew by now that I was auditioning. However, the only thing I had missed was a good luck text from Heather.
At home, I wasn't even two seconds inside the door, when Jude immediately questioned me, "Where were you today?"
As I had already hid something from my twin the longest I had ever hid something from him, I responded dramatically, "I've decided to try out for Drum Major."
Although Jude is not a Parktown Pirate (he's a cross country runner), he knows all about the drama that is my favorite activity.
Eyebrows raised, he asked, "Really?"
I nodded, "Yes."
The great thing about a twin is that we 'get' each other. I don't have to go into my many reasons for wanting to do this, or even ask if he supports me, because he just does. Twin power!
He chewed on his sandwich for a minute before replying, "Think you have a shot?"
I picked up the other half of his sandwich (marching always makes me hungry!) and answered, "Actually, I do."
"When do you find out?"
"Friday morning."
"Good luck, sis."
The week went by quicker than I thought it would. In true marching band form, there were rumors and interesting bets going around who would become the next Drum Major. Apparently, I was pulling ahead as the dark horse candidate, with Jenny being the obvious choice and perfect match to Marti. Although I had never really paid attention during this time of year, I guess everyone else did, and the band room was abuzz with how the auditions had been going. I thought I had done particularly well during my conducting yesterday and couldn't believe it was my turn to go in next for the interview. Mr. Jenkins had said it would be a "casual discussion" and that we should "not be worried."
"...next."
My band director's voice brought me to the present, and I walked confidently into his office. I had thought a lot about what I was going to say to him, and wasn't sure if he was going to like what I had to say, but knew that I was going to say it anyway. If I truly deserved to be drum major, it was going to be because I was honest with myself and with the band director.
"Have a seat, Rigby."
I sat in one of the mismatched chairs across from Mr. Jenkins' desk in his cluttered office. There were broken and old instruments, pictures from countless seasons, and pages of sheet music everywhere. All in all, it was actually a comfortable place for an interview.
I should probably mention, for everyone who had been in the band for more than half a day, knew that Mr. Jenkins liked to talk. I'm not sure how exactly he had ended up a band director, but the man could talk. I imagined most of the 'interview' would be a chance for him to just do what he loves best – talk.
Taking a deep breath and leaning back in his big leather chair, he started with, what I guessed would be a long winded set of opening remarks, "Well, Ms. Sullivan, I have to admit, I'm honestly surprised at your intentions. I know you've been a strong member of the drum line for the past three seasons, and I didn't realize you had any intention of trying for drum major. What changed your mind?"
Surprised to be speaking so soon, I answered honestly, "Mr. Jenkins, I'm sure you would agree with me if I say that there is a lot of room for improvement in this band."
He nodded, so I continued, "I know I might not be the logical choice. I don't have the experience everyone else has, I'm not as talented as they are and I'm certainly not going to give you the answer that probably everyone else who has sat in this chair has given you about their leadership qualities. Instead, I'm going to tell you that this band, more than anything, needs someone to kick its ass. I think we have a lot of great things going for us – you obviously care a lot about the band, and we have some true talent, but I think with the right person in charge, we could really go somewhere this season."
I seriously doubt this was what Mr. Jenkins was expecting.
Deciding I should probably quit while I was ahead, I finished by saying, "What I want you to know is, I've thought about it, and I really believe that I am the right person for the change. I know I won't be popular or maybe even liked, but I will be remembered and that will be enough for me."
Mr. Jenkins sat a moment. I'm not really sure what else is even on his list of questions to ask. This could very well be the shortest interview ever conducted.
Finally, he responded, "And you're sure you're willing to do whatever it takes?"
So not the answer I was expecting. I stumbled for a moment, before looking him directly in the eyes and answering, "Whatever it takes."
"Thanks for coming in, Rigby, as you are aware, the results will be posted tomorrow after school. Whoever is selected drum major will be expected to play a role in the section leader auditions next week, as well as the junior high orientation week."
"Thanks for your time, Mr. Jenkins."
I walked out of the office in a trance. Had I really just told Mr. J that I would kick the collective band's ass?! I had obviously just written off any chance I had earned. Why would a band director choose the girl who thinks the band sucks, when you could have perfect Jenny and Marti? Their obvious closeness and chemistry had only grown during the week, and I'm sure all of the candidates could already picture them in their perfect matching sparkly drum majorette uniforms.
Sadly, I walked out to the dirt lot behind the school where we had managed to get a parking spot that morning. It was then I noticed one of the only cars left in the lot was a very familiar white Taurus with faded Ludwig stickers.
Everett.
I heard gravel crunch behind me and a familiar presence approach. It was times like these, when we were alone, that I really second guessed my decision. Seriously, it would've been so easy just to keep on dating him through my senior year. I'd always have a date for everything, and we really photographed well together… All of which were terrible reasons to continue dating someone.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I knew his tone. He was trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. By nature, Everett was a pretty relaxed guy, but when he did get mad, well, it could be bad news.
"I don't know," I answered honestly.
"I wouldn't have told anyone."
"I know."
I didn't think Everett wanted to hear that in the case of my audition, it was something I needed to do, on my own. If I had told him, it would've made it not my own, which would've totally defeated the purpose.
"Do you not like our section?"
"That's not it at all. In fact, that has nothing to do with my decision."
He paused, before replying, "Ever since we broke up, I guess I feel like I don't really know you any more."
"You're the one who's made it that way." I desperately wanted to change the subject, but found I couldn't, and asked something I was desperate to know, "If Jenkins somehow chooses me, would you actually follow me as drum major?"
I hadn't really thought of it before, but to do the mass overhaul the band needed, it was going to need the full support of every section, and probably most importantly the drum line Captain.
Everett trudged around a minute, before he replied, "I honestly don't know."
"If he does pick me, Ev, I want to shake things up. I don't want to talk about a good season and then not follow through. I want to be a winner this year."
"I'll think about it, but what if he doesn't pick you?"
I hadn't really thought about that as an option. For the past couple of weeks, I had been so focused on the auditions, I didn't think about what would happen after. If I wasn't drum major, the thought of the same old in the Line wasn't really that exciting to me. I couldn't imagine not marching, but at the same time, why would I do it if it was just going to be another losing season?
Hopefully, I wouldn't be forced to make this kind of decision.
I shrugged, and finally answered, "I don't know."
Everett backed away, "Later, Riggles."
It was his old nickname for me, and he had given it to me my freshman year. It was how most everyone on the Line referred to me. I'm sure it was just something that slipped out, unintentionally…an old habit. To make him feel better, I responded, "See ya, Mount Everett."
I didn't even try to concentrate during class the next day. (Fortunately, I didn't really need to, because hey, when your twin brother is the class valedictorian, you always have someone to explain things to you.) I wasn't sure why Mr. Jenkins was going to wait until after school, but I had to respect his decision.
When the final bell finally rang, I was torn between wanting to tear ass down to the band room, and not wanting to go at all. I wished there was some way to find out without everyone else watching . Still, deep down, I knew that a drum major wouldn't run from something like this. A true leader would face the music…as it were.
I could only hope I reached the list before anyone else did.
However, the reality of the situation was that was not going to happen. There was a band class the last period of the day, and I'm sure they were all hanging around to see what the final decision was going to be.
I took my time walking through H hall, trying to go over my audition as a whole, and could really find no fault with myself. If Mr. Jenkins wanted a change, he would pick me. If not, it wasn't meant to be. I tried to keep that in mind as I opened the door and walked into the band room. Everything else was blocked out as I walked up to the list.
Two names.
One of them was mine.
Strangely, the other one was not Marti's.
AN: This is the point where I debated sending lovely Rigby to a Drum Major camp. I think it would distract from the story I want to tell too much, but it might be something I revisit at a later point. Or, if anyone wanted a short idea – and wanted to write it themselves, go for it.