Chapter 2

I got up early enough to walk to her bus stop. She was pleasantly surprised and gave me a big smile upon my arrival. She showed me the flyers she made after she got home. They were wonderful.

Since I was not on my usual bus, I got up and made the same announcement as before. I included the November performance. When I sat, she took my arm and leaned into me. On our way in, Jenn dropped the flyer masters off at the administration center.

At school, I was invited to the choir class as well at the band class. Since the performance a few days earlier, the choir had more than doubled. I told them that they would be getting at least an hour next week with the best private voice and instrument coach in the state. I didn’t mention it was my mother. That would be pretentious.

After Miss Crabtree worked with them for about twenty minutes, I asked if I could step in. She agreed and stepped away. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

“Would the two soloists, please step forward?”

Jennifer and a tall young man with dark black hair did as I had requested. He introduced himself quickly as Geoff. She smiled and waved at me.

“OK everyone, when either of the soloists are singing, you need to reduce your volume. Don’t reduce the sound coming from your mouth, just the volume. Pay attention to my hands, please?”

They all nodded.

I got the pianist and choir ready to sing. The tune was “As Time Goes By.”

The pianist began as I motioned her to. After two measures, they started singing...

JENNIFER and GEOFF
You must remember this,
a kiss is still a kiss,
a sigh is just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by...

and she sounded wonderful, as the chorus came in behind her. I reminded them about loudness. The chorus was only doing ‘Ooohs,’ but they sounded pretty good.

I brought the chorus back up, as Jennifer finished the song. The young man was all right, but he wasn’t the caliber of Jennifer. I could tell she wanted to come to me and probably even kiss me. I felt that would be inappropriate.

Miss Crabtree came over and shook my hand. “You have an amazing talent for a sixth grader. I assume that you are heading to Julliard or somewhere like that?”

“No, ma’am. Jennifer and I have plans to end up at Jacob’s School of Music together,” I answered.

“Really, that’s incredible you are focused enough to know already what you want,” she said.

The male vocalist walked up to me. “My name is Geoff Wilson. I know I am not nearly as good as Jennifer. The chance to sing with her was too much to turn down. Hopefully, I can get better.”

“Geoff, are you taking voice lessons at all?” I asked.

“No, I am on the School Baseball team. Singing is my second favorite thing to do,” he responded.

“Are you staying for the rest of the class period, Michael?” Miss Crabtree asked me.

“If it’s all right with you, I will, Ma’am?”

“OK, your clods,” she said. “You sounded pretty good ... for one song! Let’s show Mr. Thomas here a more difficult piece of music, why don’t we?”

I leaned over and closed my eyes as they began the marvelous Carpenters song called “Sing.” What a wonderful song. I heard the piano and then Jenn started it in her middle range.

Although sitting with my eyes closed, I began to move my arms. They opened, and the students were watching me and following along, so I stood up and walked over in time for the entire choir repeat of the first verse...

THE JACKSON HEIGHTS CHOIR
Sing. Sing a song.
Sing out loud, sing out strong
Sing of good things, not bad.
Sing of happy, not sad
Sing. Sing a song.
Make it simple to
last your whole life long.
Don’t worry that
it´s not good enough
For anyone else to hear.
Just sing.
Sing a song

(They broke into two parts)

La La La La La
La La La La La
La La La La La La

(All together they sang)
Sing. Sing a song.
Let the world.
Sing out loud.
Sing of love there, could be.
Sing for you and for me
Sing a song.
Make it simple to
last your whole life long.
Don´t worry that
it´s not good enough
For anyone else to hear.
Just sing, sing a song
Just sing, sing a song.
Just sing, sing a song

Now, we have fourteen songs!

This time Jenn and I did hug one another, and then I went through the entire chorus (16 of them) shaking the boy’s hands and kissing the back of each of the young lady’s hands. There were many big smiles & giggles.

Miss Crabtree gave me a nice hug. She deserves a big hand in the quick development of the new choir students. I warned her there might be more, but she said, “I can’t turn anyone down who really wants to sing. I wouldn’t mind getting another student like Jennifer, but preferably male.”

“As long as you don’t have them clinch during the song, I’m OK with that,” I said making her laugh.

I asked for the music, so I could have copies made.

The bell rang, as Miss Crabtree said, “OK everyone. I hope that we will have all new music to learn next week. Same time tomorrow! Thank you again, Mr. Thomas.”

“Call me Michael, please?” I said.

“Then you must call me, Cece, Michael. See you when I see you.”

Jenn stopped me outside the classroom and said, “They really sounded great, didn’t they?”

“I was impressed by the breadth of their sound,” I expressed. “Many times, kids get in a chorus and aren’t really focused. These guys sounded awesome! I need to have one hundred copies of all these songs made. Will the school do that for me?”

“No harm in trying, see you later, Boyfriend!”

“Bye Jenn. By the way ... I prefer it when you call me Michael. It’s different from the way my mother says it.”

Miss Clara Jepson, who (really) runs the administrative side of the school, did indeed agree to make the copies. She even agreed to collate them in sets of fourteen, so I could hand out complete packets to everyone, including the teachers involved and Mom.

I planned on working with Jenn to finalize the best order to put the music in.

I walked into band as students were arriving. Mr. Planck called me over. “Cece ... Miss Crabtree, told me the results of you coming into her class. I sure would like a miracle like that myself.”

“I don’t know about miracles, but it might be that you are the enemy,” I said.

“How do you mean that, Michael?” he said with raised eyebrows.

“If you don’t mind, how old are you, Sir?”

“Over ... thirty, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Young teenagers and thirty-year-old teachers speak different languages sometimes. May I demonstrate?”

“Certainly,” he said as he sat down. “Whatever works.”

I walked over to everyone and said, “Hi.”

They all made a kind of noise in response.

“Let’s try that again — HEY!“

“HEY!” came back to me. (About half had responded)

“We will work more on that later. The original nine band members gather on the right. New people on the left.”

They all shuffled around until my request had been reasonably satisfied.

A moment from SISTER ACT 2 entered my mind. I asked the piano player to play a middle C. She did, and the tone resonated.

“Everybody on the right side, give me a C, please?” I motioned for the piano to do it, again. It took them a moment, but they all did.

“Group on the left, give me a C.” It took them even longer.

I pointed up at the clock on the wall. “Look, you guys! From when you walked in here, until right now, ten minutes have passed. We will never get those ten minutes back. Tomorrow when you arrive, I will be here again. It should only take ‘two minutes’ from arrival to first note. You could have practiced two different songs in that same amount of time.”

“Mr. Planck and I are thankful for all the new faces, but you all need to put in as much time at home with your instrument as you do with your English, Geography, and my favorite, Math. Who here knows how many countries there are in the world?”

I only saw one hand up. It was a trumpeter. “Yes, what’s the answer?”

“The most complete number is 202,” she said.

“How did you know that answer?” I asked the cute brunette.

“I studied. It was in the book I read. I verified it on the Internet.”

“Let’s give her a big hand for that, why don’t we?”

Everyone did.

“Now let’s try one more time, ‘Hello!’”

Now, the students all said it back to me, as one big, “HELLO!”

“My good friend Paul here went to school to learn how to teach. He spent four years after college to learn how to teach kids like you. You need to give him as much respect as you just gave me. ALL RIGHT?”

“ALL RIGHT,” they said, again sounding as one voice.

Paul got up, and we gave each other a high-five. He quietly said, “It was six years, Michael. Thank you.”

I sat down and was quietly prideful of these school kids. They all practiced together sounding pretty good. Not just pretty good for their age, but goddamn good!

A student knocked and came in with a handful of papers. I took them and quickly said, “Everybody please take one of each of these on your way out. It’s important.”

The song they were practicing was John Lennon’s “Imagine.” I reached into my pack and got out my baton.

“Mr. Planck. May I direct this, please?”

“Certainly Michael ... Go right ahead.”

“When I raise my baton, all eyes should be on me. You don’t begin until I say you can begin. Be ready.”

The piano was first for four full measures. Then, the horns carry the melody.

At the melody line of
‘Imagine all the people
living for today,’

I brought the rest of them in. It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty good.

The second verse sounded much better. Boy, add in the choir I was with earlier ... it gave me shivers all the way down my back.

It ends with just the piano, just as it started.

They were a darn good set of musicians. I saw Paul with tears in his eyes. “They ... never sounded like that before, Michael!”

“More are probably coming. How close are you to running out of instruments?”

“We have plenty, but never had the demand that you are generating. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yes Sir, you will.”

I left quietly. Lunch was my next period.

My lunch periods used to be quite solitary. Now I am getting people waving at me, including band members, choir members and some rather hot seventh and eighth-grade girls.

They typically walked by in groups of three, wave, and giggle. Then, they leave. Jennifer sat down beside me with the music and flyer originals.

“Hey there?” she said. “How was band?”

“Better than you would think. They are sounding good,” I remarked.

“I am bringing a tape recorder to your place today. I want to hear myself.”

“That sounds vain,” I said.

“Nooo. How you hear yourself is different from how others hear you,” she explained.

“I know that. I was just giving you a little grief. What’s going on with you so far today?”

“Not much. We had a test in math. I hate math!” she said.

“That is my favorite subject. I could tutor you if you would like.”

“Maybe you could give me some tutoring in math and kissing,” she said with a giggle.

“You have a Master’s in Kissing already, young lady” I remarked. “What is it you learn in eighth grade Math?”

“Factors, least common multiples, word problems, I so hate word problems and variable expressions. Who thought up all this crap, anyway?”

“Little Miss Perfect is cursing? I never thought I would hear Jennifer Guthrie say ‘Crap,’ much less show her vulnerable side.”

“I am multi-faceted Michael, like a diamond. I need someone who knows how to polish me just right.”

“I think polishing you is way above my pay grade,” I admitted. “But, I can try.”

“Is this all about me being older than you? I could not care less about that. I think we have something wonderful happening between us. Kiss me, Michael!”

I have seen others making out at the lunch tables. I never thought I would be one of them.

I turned to her. Her smile is my radar, and we started a nice kiss. I thought something, or someone was going to interrupt us. It always happens on TV and the movies. This kiss was remarkable. I felt her hand behind my head; my hand was on her face. It felt very nice.

Somebody was hovering. I looked up and saw a humongous dude. He must have been six feet tall and had huge forearms.

“Jennifer Baby ... I have been waiting for you to realize what a mistake it was to break up with me. Come on and talk to me,” he said, grabbing at her arm.

“I told you ... that we were through!” she said back at this big brute, pulling away from his grasp. “All you wanted me for was to show me off like I was some piece of jewelry. William Chapman, we are through, OK? Now, leave us both, alone!”

He grabbed for her again. I stood up, internally told myself to man up, and said loud enough to get the attention of everyone around us, “I don’t know whom you are that makes you think that you can talk to any girl like that? You are right, Jennifer is a piece of jewelry. You were too obtuse to realize how good she made you look. We are having lunch together. Find somebody else to fuck with, Goofball!”

Oh, Dear God, what have I done?

(A flash of Biff Tannen about to beat up Marty McFly went through my brain)

I saw both Mr. Planck and Principal McGowan within twenty feet of us. ‘William’ was still deciding what to do when I pointed them out.

He walked away.

“Well done, Mr. Thomas,” Principal McGowan said. “Bullies have never liked hearing their weaknesses out loud. I would prefer my students not use such foul language. However, it seemed appropriate for the moment. When you two are through with lunch, please come see me in my office.”

Again?

We showed up hand in hand. Clara sent us in.

As we walked in he was quick to say, “Don’t worry, this is good. In fact, this is incredible news, and you two were the ones spearheading this. One of your ‘Bus Speeches’ motivated a few of our more well-to-do students to talk to their parents about this. One of them called me directly. I got off the phone with him just prior to seeing you having lunch.”

“So, what is it, Sir?” I asked, literally on the edge of my seat, even though I was still standing.

“You remember getting up and saying how all we needed was about $50,000 to get through this? Well, we are getting a $3,000,000 endowment. It can only be used for the Performing Arts.”

‘Holy Fuck.’ I said to myself.

“That ... is amazing, Sir,” I said. “One of the first things we need to get is a set of risers for the choir to stand on with the band in front of them. Without them, you couldn’t hear or even see the choir?”

“That is a marvelous and conscientious suggestion. I understand that, and it will happen in time for your program. That is the other thing I want to say. Both teachers said that your interaction with the choir, and the band was inspiring to them all. At least once a week, I would like you to step in and keep them jazzed up about everything.”

“Sir,” my pretty girl said, “Besides the stands Michael just mentioned, we really need a piano for the 21^st century. The one in the band room is a Baldwin, made in 1901, and the one in choir, that we use, has a metal stamp that says it was made in 1899.”

“Excuse me, Sir. The best person to decide about a new piano would be my mother. She understands that very well. Miss Crabtree would be a help as well. In the meantime, the one in the Band room needs a tuning, Sir.”

“Very good. I am sure that Mr. Planck may need some new instruments as well,” our principal said.

“Again sir, my mother’s opinion should be asked about these things. She is always talking to youngsters and their parents about the best place to purchase nice used personal instruments.”

“Very good, both of you,” he said. “Any money earned from the flyers will be used for a nice concession area for your November Program. I saw your list of music. It’s very nice. Is it in the order it will be performed?”

“No sir. That detail still needs to be worked out. It will be a top priority; I promise.”

“Very good, get on to your next class ... both of you.”

Jenny took the moment to give our principal a kiss on the cheek. He blushed and sent us on our way.

We walked into my house with all the music. As expected, mom was working with a young Asian girl who is learning the flute. I am impressed with how good she is getting at such a young age. I believe her name is Yao Jae. She is not from Jackson Heights School. She might be from Riley Elementary.

After she left we told mom the great news. She thanked me for asking for her help.

“What do you need from me today?” she asked. Jenn was right next to me holding my hand.

“We would like to hear each of these pieces. Do you know of a place to get full orchestrations?” I asked.

“Oh, Michael, that is so expensive. Let me take one of these and see what I can do.”

“You know how to do that? I want to learn how. Most conductors write music as well. I want to be a great conductor, so I can tell the world of my mother who gave me my first baton.” I walked into her arms and gave and received the most wonderful hug.

I turned around and got a hug plus a gnarly kiss from my girl.

Mom got herself together and said, “Are you two ready for this, first up ‘The Story Of Us.’ How fast do you want this, Michael?”

My answer was my hand showing the tempo I wanted, which she matched, and began with Jenn on vocals...

JENNIFER
I used to think one day
we’d tell the story of us,
How we met and the
sparks flew instantly,
People would say,
“They’re the lucky ones.”

(Jenn sounded lovely)

“I used to know my place
was a spot next to you,
Now I am searching the room
for an empty seat,
Cause lately I don’t even know
what page you are on

It continued for a total of four verses and a chorus after each one. Many times, during it, I caught Jenn looking at me.

And it was over.

“I need a break, kids ... back in ten minutes,” my mother said.

When mom came back in, “Skyfall” was next. Having sung this before I walked up to Jennifer and said, “Don’t try to sound like Adele, sound like Miss Jennifer Guthrie, please?”

I backed up, and they were waiting for my downbeat. We began.

I had one hand with the beat for mom. My right hand was giving Jenn cues regarding volume.

The books my mom got me, although for someone who was right-handed, I simply flip-flopped, and started an unending thirst for all the knowledge I could find on the matter. There is a lot. I have found and ordered more, including specialty books on left-handed conducting both choirs and orchestra. Most come with performance DVDs.

Siegfried Wagner and Wolfgang Gonnenwein were left-handed, but because of prejudice at the time, they switched.

The number ended.

“That is really sounding wonderful, Jennifer. Not bad, Mom.”

“I love you too, Michael,” she said back to me flashing her significant smile at me.

Next up was “Sing.” The song I helped along in the choir room. It sounded easy to learn. The band should pick that up easily enough.

After that was Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.” I explained the beat count to mom, and it went well. Jenn already knew this song, so she was blasting with trills up to the heavens when she could.

Mom sang along making it sound much better. I am changing this to be Jenn and the next-best female voice in the choir. The drummer is going to love this piece of music.

Our foray into country music was next. Alan Jackson’s “Remember When.” Both ladies said they had never heard of it, but they would give it their best.

I had Mom play it through once.

“Ooh, that is pretty,” Jenn said. Mom stopped and said, “Let’s do it. I have someone coming in ten minutes. We can get through two more if we hurry.”

“We will do this one, then stop. I want you at your best, both of you,” I said.

I gave her the beat. ‘One and Two — One and Two’...

JENNIFER
Remember when
I was young and so were you
And time stood still
And love was all we knew
You were the first, so was I
We made love and
then you cried
Remember when?

Remember when
we vowed the vows
and walked the walk
Gave our hearts,
Made the start,
and it was hard
We lived and learned
Life threw curves
There was joy,
there was hurt
Remember when?

I already had the choir involved in eleven of the fourteen pieces. Even so, a nice Hmmmmmmm in the background might fill out the sound. There were times just now when mom had joined in and it instantly got better. Boy, if mom could play piano for our show?

Nah! That would be above and beyond!

We were wrapping up, as there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see Alice, and I said to her, “Hey there beautiful, looking for a good time?”

“MICHAEL!” came from behind me, in stereo.

“Come on in, Alice. Are you here to get your daughter or are you staying for dinner?” I asked seeing her car parked in front of the house.

“A little of both. Janice asked me over for dinner, and then I will be taking Jennifer home. What was that last song you were doing? I could hear it walking up.”

“It’s a pretty country song called, ‘Remember When.’ It was written and recorded by Alan Jackson. Have a seat, please,” I said. Mom joined her on the sofa while Jenn and I sat on the love seat.

We caught her up on all the details of our November event. We also told her of the $3,000,000 endowment plus the suggestions we had made to the administration.

Mom surprised us all by telling us that we were all going out to dinner. Alice was worried how she was dressed, but mom pooh-poohed her concern. I told her she looked very nice.

Jennifer slipped her shoes back on. She was taking them off to make her shorter around me. That was really sweet of her.

It was our last day of school until after the first of the year.

The basketball auditorium doubles as where students eat lunch, split over two consecutive periods. Teachers and their TA’s (Teachers Assistants) have a lunchroom of their own, but they have a common kitchen.

The brand-new risers were in place under the east basketball hardware, (Which raises up out of the way). The risers have room for more than our large chorus of now 69 students. In front of them were the 52 chairs for our orchestra. The necessary string instruments were all taken out of mothballs, and we now had a full-fledged orchestra. They borrowed music stands from Lincoln High. We had 200 of our own on back order. (Yeah!)

Magically, every number had been fully orchestrated. I would guess that my mother got her friends in the music community to help her. I love you, Mom!

The singers, orchestra, and I had gotten a week of rehearsals together. The public should be suitably impressed!

A last-minute addition included movable wall partitions placed appropriately so the chorus and orchestra sounds wouldn’t wash out behind them. That was my mother’s idea.

She also had the notion for me to get a nicer, more expensive baton, but I told her the one I had was just fine.

The place was full of parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and any other friends and family willing to be there. The teachers handed out hastily made programs to all who came.

There was an air of excitement throughout the place. We had no stage lighting or spotlights. We turned off the lights over the audience, keeping them on over the performers.

I was trying to remember those breathing exercises my mother had tried to teach me when I was nine. I was nervous only because I hadn’t done this before on such a grand scale. Jenn found me and gave me a kiss to settle my nerves. She quickly wiped away the evidence.

We had no amplification. I had prepared my singers for that. There was a single microphone, and that was for Principal McGowan to come out and speak to the audience.

The lights were blinked, so the audience knew it was starting. Out came our very proud principal.

“Good evening, everybody. I am Principal Harold McGowan. Isn’t this exciting? Jackson Heights Elementary School is putting on a show tonight for the first time ever!”

That got the audience applauding.

“I can’t even take credit for it. It was the idea of a twelve-year-old student here at JHES. He had been content being one of the many invisible students that exist these days at many schools across the country. His courage and tenacity are what caused tonight to happen. He is a sixth grader, and his name is Michael Thomas.”

“Come on out, Michael!”

The applause was exhilarating, but to quote an old-fashioned show business axiom, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet!’

I walked out in my conductor garb. I had on dark jeans and a blue pullover shirt. Conductors need to have a little character inside them. I was channeling my late idol, Steve Jobs.

From where I stood, I spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this marks one hundred days of work from conception to completion. We started with nine band members, now we have an orchestra of over fifty. Our choir was remarkable when there were only eleven of them. Now we have over sixty of them. Come on out, please.”

They walked out wearing matching robes of the school colors royal blue and kelly green. They entered from behind the wall baffles into six rows of eleven each, getting up on the risers. Lastly, the five soloists came on out standing in front and to the left of them.

The audience stood as this was happening. There were cameras and flashes all over the place. Proud siblings and parents, I assumed.

It reminded me of that moment at the end of THE MUSIC MAN, when Professor Harold Hill, in handcuffs, stood in front of the parents expecting to conduct their kids. I did not have on handcuffs, although I felt hopeful for a similar result.

From off-stage, the principal announced, “Please no flash photography during the performance. There will be an intermission. We have concessions out in the hall.”

To me, he said, “Mister Conductor, it’s all yours!”

I turned ... picked up my baton and said, “Are we ready?”

I heard a single and stirring, “YES!”

I turned and pointed to the tuned piano and gave the downbeat. The orchestra began, and Jennifer stepped forward in a beautiful blue dress and began “In the Wee Small Hours of The Morning.”

After she finished the chorus, the choir came in with a repeat of what had just been sung and Jenn started up again with their voices to finish this. The young lady playing the tubular bells at the end of the song is Tiffany Case, only ten years old. She also plays our drum trap set.

I waited for applause. A second later they were all cheering. I turned and gave Jenn her bow, then had the orchestra stand and take theirs. Lastly, I took mine.

After nearly ten seconds of basking in the glow, “Across the Universe” started with no lead vocal, just the orchestra and choir. The vocals were split among the sopranos, altos, tenors, and basses. That was Jenn’s idea.

More applause, I motioned to the choir and the orchestra. Up next was my favorite blonde singing “Amazing Grace.”

Without a note to hear it, she started to sing a cappella, and then came in the piano. Another one of my mother’s brilliant ideas!

With five measures to go, the piano stopped and the purest voice in Indiana finished this song. You will never guess who was playing the piano for this song?

Her applause was immediate. I first pointed to my mother, who stood and was glowing in the magnificence of the moment. I next drew the attention to Jennifer, who took a bow, then did I.

After they quieted down I said, “That was my mother, Janice Forrester on the piano.”

The switch was made. Then, the chorus started the next piece of music with each of the five soloists having a moment of their own in “Do You Hear the People Sing” from the Broadway Musical, LES MISÉRABLES.

At the point when the orchestra and the entire chorus joined in, there was a moment when the chord they made as a unified chorus caused my eyes to release a torrent or tears, and my body to release some endorphins.

When it was over, this song did what I had suspected it would. People were not only applauding, there was crying, and not just me. The soloists, most of the choir, and when I turned to face the audience, were as well.

I made a pre-known motion, and everyone bowed together. I turned back and wanted to keep the pressure and momentum going. My mother’s retooled “The Story of Us” was next and was widely appreciated. After performing “Since U Been Gone,” the end of the first act was near.