The bulletin board had at least five sign-up sheets and many more fliers advertising various clubs and activities, from the school production of Fiddler on the Roof to the Home-Ec Club, which Lucy's friends, Patty and Freida, always raved about, but it was one flier in the lower right-hand corner which caught Lucy's eye.
DEBATE CLUB
Learn how to argue
with the best
MON WED FRI
3:00—4:00
ROOM 302
Questions? Suggestions?
Come see us during
2nd lunch period!
"I can argue with the best," Lucy mused aloud, pulling a notepad from her bookbag to write the information. "Why not?"
Fortunately, her study-hall period fell during the second lunch. Instead of dutifully going to the library like usual, she headed up to the third floor. As she reached the landing, she caught the faint strains of some kind of classical music being played. ("Bach," she said to herself without meaning to, remembering the many records which Schroeder had played for her in his zeal to share quality music with any willing ear.) Listening with mild curiosity, Lucy at first thought it was organ music on a record album, but the tone was not quite right. The closer she got, she realized it was an accordion, and it was being played live.
"It's been a while since I've heard a good accordion," Lucy smiled to herself.
That was the one area where she and Schroeder would probably always differ, even if they married in the future. Schroeder hated accordions with a passion, sometimes complaining of an earache if he so much as heard the instrument on the radio. Lucy, on the other hand, enjoyed its cheerful, quirky sound, and she occasionally indulged in record albums with polkas, schottisches, and waltzes.
As she continued on her way, she was soon surprised to discover that the accordion was coming from Room 302 itself. She double checked her notepad to make sure she had written the right room down, but this was the place. She opened the door without knocking, poking her head in to scan the room.
Her accordion player sat on a stool near the row of windows, staring intently at a music stand, rather like Schroeder when he played Beethoven. She recognized the musician as an eighth grader she had seen around school, but she had never spoken to him. He had slick black hair styled in a pompadour, a round jaw, and large eyes, which on a whole gave him an unfortunate resemblance to the Big Boy mascot. He wore a yellow buttoned shirt with two vertical orange stripes on the front and a pair of black shorts. He played a piano accordion, and he adroitly handled the keys and buttons with a light touch while his left arm steadily manipulated the billows with the untired efficiency of a machine.
Lucy walked softly up to him, not wanting to interrupt just yet. Fortunately, he had reached the last part of the piece. The haunting notes lingered, then faded in the air, and his intense face finally relaxed with a deep sigh. Lucy broke into applause, and the boy jolted so hard he half-fell off his stool. He twisted his body, trying to protect his accordion, and once his sneakered foot touched the floor, he staggered away, quickly recovering his balance, and the stool clattered on its side.
He punched one hand into the air, supporting his accordion against his chest with the other.
"And he sticks the landing!" he cheered before making crowd noises. "Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhh!"
"Your accordion wasn't hurt, was it?" Lucy asked, stepping forward apologetically. What a way to make a first impression.
Fortunately, the boy smiled. "I have six siblings. The ol' girl's seen worse."
"Six!" Lucy marveled. "And I thought having two little brothers was bad."
He chuckled, and Lucy thought he had a friendly face, which made her feel a little more at ease.
"You played really well," she complimented, stooping to right the stool for him. "I never thought of anyone playing Toccata and Fugue in D Minor on an accordion before."
"Thanks." His smile broadened. "And thank you for calling it by its proper name, and not 'Hey, that song from horror movies.'"
Lucy smiled wryly. "I have a friend who's super into classical music. He has a music box with Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, if you can believe it."
"He sounds like my dad," the boy remarked before he extended a hand. "Sebastian Baxter. I'm the debate team's captain. Are you here to check out the club?"
"That was my plan," she replied. "I'm Lucy Van Pelt."
They shook hands, and Lucy thought he had a nice grip, not too hard, not too soft.
"Do you usually play the accordion for debate club?" she asked.
Sebastian laughed, turning for an accordion case by the music stand.
"Actually, my dad's birthday is coming up," he explained as he slipped the straps of his instrument off his shoulders. "He's a huge fan of Bach, so every year I play a piece for him, and I have to practice for months in advance because the competition is fierce."
He straightened, wearing a lopsided smile. "Last year, my older sister, Johanna, played Bourrée in E Minor on the glass harp."
"And she was good?"
"Like listening to angel wings," he replied with an exaggerated sigh, laying a dramatic hand over his heart. "I was never so mad in my life."
"So, naturally, you have to outdo her this year," Lucy said knowingly.
"Naturally." His large eyes twinkled, and he finished packing up his instrument. "Since I come here anyway during my lunch period, I figured I could practice in peace, without a set of twin brothers and a set of triplet sisters running around."
"You poor boy." Lucy gave him a sympathetic look.
With his task done, he crossed over to a tall cabinet in one corner. He retrieved a booklet and brought it over to Lucy.
"Have you ever done any debates before, Lucy?" he asked, running a thumb over the white edge.
"I've won a few insult wars, if that's what you mean."
He shook his head, smiling. "Unfortunately, on a debate team, we're not allowed to resort to name calling."
"We're not?" Lucy asked in surprise. "Maybe I should try a different club then."
She took a step toward the door, and Sebastian chuckled.
"Hey, you're pretty funny. We can always use a few bright kids with senses of humor." He held out the booklet, which Lucy accepted. "That's a copy of the rulebook. Why don't you look it over, and if debate club seems like your thing, you can come to our meeting this afternoon?"
"I might do that," Lucy mused.
She started for the door again, and Sebastian gave her a warm wave before he turned back to his accordion. Lucy reached for the doorknob, but she lingered, looking back as Sebastian settled on his stool once more.
"Hey," she said, "do you only play Bach on that organ?"
His fingers paused on the keys. "Not at all. You haven't lived until you've heard a Beach Boys song on an accordion."
To prove his point, he deftly began to play "Little Deuce Coupe", holding her gaze with a playfully confident smirk, as though showing off that he could do it all without looking at the keys or buttons. Lucy snapped to the beat with her free hand.
"How about any polkas, schottisches or waltzes?" she asked hopefully.
"Well, if you held a gun to my head…" At her offended frown, Sebastian stopped his song and grinned. "Just kidding. Actually, my grandmother likes the occasional polka, so we accommodate her at home."
He switched to a rousing rendition of "Beer Barrel Polka", tapping his feet to the cheerful melody. Lucy leaned against the door, nodding along.
Schroeder would bolt for the hills if he heard all this, Lucy reflected with a sad smile. Oh, I miss him already!
An hour and a half after school let out, Lucy finally strolled through her front door, humming a polka as she slung off her backpack. She retrieved the debate club's rulebook and flipped through it as she ambled up the hall. Mom was not back yet from the welfare league or the library committee meeting or the hairdresser or whatever her schedule had this afternoon, and Rerun could be heard messing around in his room. Fortunately, following the sound of the television led her to Linus in the beanbag, wrapped up in his blue blanket. Sauntering up to him, she lazily flopped against the side of the beanbag, causing him to start.
"I'm in the debate club, little brother," she beamed, "thanks to your idea!"
She rewarded him by ruffling his stringy hair. Linus recovered from his surprise, and he sat up with a smile.
"That's wonderful, Lucy! Congratulations."
Lucy waved the booklet in front of his nose. "I've learned a lot already about making a good argument! The rulebook has a list of logical fallacies we have to avoid in a debate, and we can't make personal comments, because the Tri-County Middle School League's motto is 'Don't raise your voice. Improve your argument.'"
Linus nodded, smiling with pride. "Great!"
Lucy thumbed through the pages like a flipbook, beginning to smirk. "Just think! This could really strengthen my arguing abilities. I'll never lose a verbal fight again!"
"Great…"
She had not been sure if she would successfully find a club that would help her stay away from Schroeder's house; she had expected to pine for him every second, but learning to make a convincing argument without insults was much more engaging (and fun) than she realized!
Lucy began to tell Linus everything she could remember about that afternoon. Once the final bell had rang, she had hurried up to Room 302, where she had found Sebastian and six other kids setting up two tables, chairs, and a lectern. Sebastian had warmly announced her as a prospective member and an accordion lover.
"Clearly, she is a cultured lady," he had jokingly declared, earning knowing nods from his teammates, who seemed to be quite familiar with their captain's proclivities. Then came the rest of the introductions. Sebastian had had an easy way about him as he had personally walked from member to member, starting with a pale eighth grader in a long black dress and black lipstick which matched her hair and made her resemble an actress in a black-and-white film, and he had laid a friendly hand on her shoulder.
"My favorite ball of sugar and spice here is called Lillian," he had said. "I haven't met a judge yet who didn't love her."
"Don't believe every compliment this guy gives," Lillian had told Lucy, but she had formed a genuine smile which looked extra white next to her dark lipstick. "I don't think Seb's ever insulted anybody in his life."
"My big sister would beg to differ," Sebastian had grinned before he had moved onto a jumpy boy with a face loaded with freckles. The boy had bolted to his feet as though he had been caught cheating by the principal. Shaking from head to toe, he might have sprinted away if Sebastian had not grabbed his arm.
"And here is our fiercest lion in this pride," Sebastian had declared, "Walter Cunnings."
"Pleased — Pleased to — to meet — you," he had stammered out, but he had not made eye contact with Lucy.
"Don't let his modesty fool you, Lucy," Sebastian had laughed, giving his friend a pat on the back. "Once the debate starts, he's our best orator."
As Sebastian had walked to the next student, Lucy had quickly passed Walter one of her business cards for her psychiatric booth.
"In case you ever need help with that nervous tick," Lucy had told him.
"Thank— Thank you," Walter had mumbled, looking close to fainting.
Sebastian had continued with the introductions. A smiling blonde girl with a pink bow was Sunny; a boy in glasses was Gene; a stern-looking boy with braces went only by Duke; a tall sixth-grade girl who had brought cookies and pinched Sebastian's cheek was nicknamed "Cookie." (Sebastian had admitted to Lucy after the meeting that he was not entirely sure what her real name was.)
With that finished, Sebastian had called the meeting officially to order. The teacher who normally supervised them was on maternity leave, so Sebastian, as captain, had taken over her duties.
"Okay, we all still need to work on our rebuttal skills," he had told the regulars. "Improvisation is key, but don't discount coming prepared with research. Did everyone go to the library with the list of topics I gave you?"
They had, so Sebastian had retreated to his stool and motioned for Lucy to bring her chair beside him.
"Did you get a chance to look at the book I gave you?" he had asked.
"I skimmed through it."
"All right, so during the debate, the affirmative and negative teams each have three speakers," he had explained. "The first two present prepared arguments, but the third speaker has to offer rebuttals for the other team's arguments. This can make or break a debate, you see, so we get each member to stand up and give a rebuttal to the points I give them, to help them practice keeping calm and rational under pressure."
He had had a big binder full of topics and arguments, which he had balanced on one knee. He had also worn a stop watch around his neck to time each speaker. He had called Lillian to the lectern first.
"Your topic to resolve is whether school uniforms should be implemented across America. You are on the affirmative team, Lil."
That had gotten a laugh out of the others.
Lillian had dryly laid a hand over her heart. "O Captain! My Captain!"
"In a debate," Sebastian had told Lucy while Lilian had collected her notes, "you may have to defend a position with which you personally disagree, but you have to be able to put your feelings aside and make your case with a well-researched argument."
"Even when the position is completely wrong?" Lucy had frowned.
"It teaches you empathy, in any case," he had replied cheerfully. "If you don't understand where your opponent is coming from, how can you convince them to change their minds?"
He had turned back to Lillian, who had carried her binder to the lectern, and she delivered a pretty convincing rebuttal within the four-minute limit. The others had given feedback and tips for her to improve, and then Sunny had stood to take her turn. Each member had had a chance to practice, with Sebastian reading aloud opposing arguments for them to refute. Afterwards, the rest of the team had offered both praise and constructive feedback
"Duke, you need to smile more when you speak. This isn't a parole board. Why don't you pretend you're talking to your cat, Mr. Snickers?"
"Gene, you should make fewer gestures. Why don't you keep hold of your notes so that your hands stay still?
"Cookie, while it's fine to acknowledge your opponent has a good point, you shouldn't call them 'his cute, lil' arguments.'"
Finally, it had been Sebastian's turn, and Lillian had taken over his stool as the team's co-captain, but she had not even opened his binder. Crossing her legs and laying her pale chin on her hand, she had smirked at him.
"Your topic to resolve, mon capitan, is whether accordions should be removed from the face of the earth, and you are on the affirmative team."
The others had hollered with laughter, even jumpy Walter. Sebastian had briefly closed his eyes, then held up one index finger in a calm protest.
"The idea is to practice rebutting plausible debate topics—"
"Which are usually controversial, Cap'n," Lillian had teased. "You're on the clock. The arguments thus far against accordions are 'they're outdated.'"
"And produce too much noise pollution!" Cookie had tittered.
"And makes kids look like geeks!" Duke had added.
"And harmful for the environment!" Gene had declared.
"Think of the children!" Sunny had pretended to swoon, crumpling against Walter, who looked flabbergasted.
"While your opponents have argued that accordions are cultural icons, full of history, and — oh, what was that thing Seb said last week?" Lillian had looked to Gene for help.
"'Gives a man a certain distinction,'" Gene had replied, mimicking Sebastian's tone of voice as he pretended to dust his fingers on his chest.
Sebastian had taken in a long breath, then released it slowly, but he had been a good sport, presenting a pretty compelling argument against his beloved instrument.
"I wonder if he could make the same arguments in favor of getting rid of pianos," Lucy had cracked under her breath, applauding with the rest of the team once Sebastian had finished.
When she finished her account, Lucy collapsed back against the beanbag with a pleased sigh. Linus had twisted himself around to face her, nodding along with his head resting on his hand.
"Sounds like this will give you a chance to stretch yourself," he observed.
"I know, right?" she beamed. "A bunch of kids who argue for extracurricular credit, so they have to be the best! I always thought that to win an argument, you have to be the toughest, most stubborn one in the room, but these kids prove that they can argue for things they disagree with and still win! That takes skill, Linus!"
"It certainly makes you think," he mused. "So, does that mean you'll start implementing these skills in your day-to-day arguments?"
"That's my plan." She then smirked and ruffled his hair. "But as your big sister, I still reserve the right to call you a blockhead."
Linus made a face, but he did not try to argue the point, rather rolling back to face the television. Lucy chuckled, humming as she turned the book in her hands, but after a moment, she sobered. She poked Linus's head.
"Hey, did Schroeder call while I was out?"
Linus did not turn. "When has he ever called you?"
"He could have noticed that I didn't come by his house this afternoon," she reasoned, "and wondered if I was sick."
"It hasn't been a full twenty-four hours yet," Linus pointed out. "I think you'd have to stay away a lot longer before he starts getting worried."
"Yeah, that makes sense." She sighed. "But even with the Westminster Quarters Effect, he would still care about me as a person, right?"
"Westermarck, and of course," said Linus. "But even on a good day, it takes a lot for any of us to get Schroeder away from his piano once he's in the zone. Just be patient."
"I'm trying," Lucy grumbled, gripping her book. She stood and started for the door, but then she spun and shot him a warning look. "But if Schroeder completely forgets about me, I'm blaming you."
Linus switched to a more diplomatic expression. He pushed himself up, rolling out of the beanbag until he knelt on the carpet.
"While you wait for your Romeo van Beethoven, would you like to use the beanbag to watch TV?" he offered.
Lucy, however, shook her head, flipping open her book again.
"I want to make sure I know all these rules before the next meeting," she said, turning for the door. "The debate-team captain is a real sweetheart, and I want to make a good impression at our next meeting."
Linus gawked. "You're giving up the beanbag and TV to study?"
"I really want this club thing to work," she replied, reaching the doorway. She spun, smiling. "Your future nieces and nephews are at stake, Uncle Linus."
Linus sank down into the beanbag, covering his head with his blue blanket. He looked as though he half-expected his sister to transform into an alien and gobble him up.
"I'm cautiously optimistic about the days ahead," he mumbled.
A/N: Glass harp — If you want a treat, look up the YouTube channel, roberttiso, and watch his glass-harp covers of Bach works. :)
In truth, when I was developing this story, I knew I wanted Lucy to pursue some kind of hobby or activity, and I started to write out a list to help me brainstorm ideas. The very first thing was for her to join the debate club — and it immediately seemed like the right thing for her, haha. I had considered having her try out a few other things before deciding on the debate club, but I think this version was the best way to take this fic.