Chapter 161

“There is a kind of magicness about going far away and then coming back all changed.”
—Kate Douglas Wiggin, New Chronicles of Rebecca

REMAS WAS ON A PLANE back to DC by noon on Sunday. She needed to be back for the special Labor Day concert of the Young America Orchestra. I wondered if Cindy would get to play with the orchestra when we went to the National School. I hoped she wouldn’t be limited to playing with me. Or our ‘and company.’ I don’t think anyone in our pod expected we would become a performance troupe. I was especially concerned about how Rachel, Beca, Nanette, Emily, and Livy would feel about it. They weren’t performers and didn’t really work on the production end of things. They had lives and skills that our music didn’t acknowledge and I’d be lost without them. Rachel and Beca were my soulmates. Emily was my anchor in this world. I wanted to find ways to make sure they were included in our lives. That was what the pod was all about.

We spent most of Sunday just relaxing. Nanette and I went for a slow run of three miles just to stay loose and ready. We’d be running in Noblesville on Monday. It was great that Jock was traveling with us. Officially, school athletics were supposed to use school transportation, but that’s almost impossible when you are transporting one athlete and one coach. We’d be going in my truck.

At five, our families came out to join us for dinner at the farm. I mean Cindy’s and my families. Tonight, we would release our one-hour special for patrons. It would include the preparation for our audition, some of the pieces played and questions asked during the audition, and two fully produced numbers, including our Jefferson Memorial performance. Since we had to get up early Monday morning to travel, we decided not to have a huge party for the release on Sunday night. It would just be the pod and our families with the broadcast at seven and the intended end time with audience interaction at eight-thirty.

Dad and Mark joined me at the grill and soon Keith and Luke were pushed outside, too. Cindy’s brothers grabbed a bucket of golf balls and went out back to practice their drives. I think, over the years, Donna and her father had collected nearly as many different golf clubs as a pro shop. Not quite as well-kept, perhaps. Donna continued to pick up clubs when she saw them at Goodwill or a flea market. Everyone on the farm could find some kind of club to use if they wanted to swat a few.

“What’s your biggest challenge these days, Jacob?” Mark asked. Wow! That’s a loaded question. Cindy’s dad had become one of our strongest supporters and was helping with the home negotiations that would enable Cindy to join me in DC next year. What is he getting at?

“Gee, there are so many,” I said. “School, learning new music, learning new instruments, dealing with the National School and making sure we have fresh content for our patrons, and making time for each of my girlfriends. I guess those are the top of the list.”

“That’s a lot of stress, son,” Dad said. “But they are all things people deal with throughout life. You’ve stayed pretty calm through most of it. Does anything weigh on your mind?” My dad asked a probing question? I checked on the temperature of the chicken as I wondered if he and Mark had coordinated this interview.

“Um ... Yeah. I guess there are deep questions in my mind besides just demands on my time,” I ventured. “I’m thinking about how to keep my pod together and happy when we have such differing life options ahead of us. And I worry about opening my mouth when it seems so easy for something I say to become a meme. What does it mean when the president quotes me? When I say something, is it going to change our popularity? Put us out of favor with the National School? Damage Cindy’s opportunities as a musician? I’m afraid I’ll open my mouth and make a huge faux pas that costs us our fan base and chances for the future. It seems so easy to offend people these days.”

“I’m glad you’re thinking of those things, Jacob,” Mark said. “It tells me you really care about more than popularity. You care about how you affect people.”

“And it’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Dad said. “I don’t mean here at the farm. I mean here in your life. We don’t have answers to your questions, but we have ears.”

“You can use us for a sounding board. Sometimes just having the opportunity to say something out loud without repercussions will give you an idea of how it will sound to other people and if you really want to go there in public,” Mark added. “Mothers ... Well, they can’t always do that. They are programmed to jump to conclusions and protect their young. If you got frustrated and said, ‘We should switch to heavy metal,’ for example, they’d panic about how you were throwing away your career and then they’d be in touch with every heavy metal record producer in the country to get you a contract. It’s something we value and cherish about our mothers. They will move the earth to help and protect their young.”

“Not to say we won’t rise to protect you when the need is there,” Dad laughed. “We’re just more likely to make, ‘Really? Why do you want to do that?’ our first response instead of locking you in the basement so you can’t hurt yourself.” We all laughed at that. I pulled the chicken off the grill onto the serving platter Dad held while Mark called his sons in for dinner.

Laura and Leon did a great job with the special. They really captured the dynamics of our pod as we performed and prepared for the audition. With Donna’s direction, they’d even captured interviews with Dr. Donahue, Remas, and the director of the Kansas Renaissance Festival. The prep for the performance at the Jefferson Memorial was interwoven with scenes from the actual performance and then the program was shown in its entirety. Finally, there was a statement from Dr. Donahue that wrapped it all up.

“Winston Churchill is one of the most frequently misquoted figures on the Internet,” Dr. Donahue said. “But he did say this: ‘The arts are essential to any complete national life. The State owes it to itself to sustain and encourage them.’ At the National School of the Arts, we endeavor to press the performing arts into the minds and hearts of America. I believe Marvel and Hopkins will be a vital part of that effort in the future. We’ll welcome them here at the school.”

That was about as close to a concrete offer as we were likely to get before next summer when we had to negotiate the tricky waters of the National Service. After the conclusion, we received the congratulations of our fans and introduced Donna and Sophie to them and thanked them for making this happen. It wasn’t like we had a million viewers tuned into the stream. There were close to a thousand, though, and the comments seemed to fly past us on the screen. We were choosing random questions as we saw them and freezing them on our screen so people could see the question as we responded. Well, mostly as I responded. Cindy did a lot of smiling and saying thank you.

Then a question crossed the screen that Cindy froze. She expanded it so it filled the screen. It was directed to her, so I let her take control.

“Cindy, how do you feel about Jacob controlling your artistic life, your political views, and your performance? Don’t you have an opinion of your own?”

“Wow!” she said, looking into the camera. “Jacob controls all that? What am I, a puppet? I’m a little shy and I have a soft voice so sometimes no one hears me when I speak. But Jacob and I talk, like all the time. We both choose the music we do. We talk. I tell him about what would be appropriate for us to play. I tell him what I think about the National Service. I tell him which instrument he should learn next. I tell him how I feel about performing. I tell him my dreams and aspirations. I tell him how much I love him.” She paused and looked at me. I guess my mouth was hanging open. “Oops. I guess I didn’t tell him that. But I have now. So, don’t go around thinking I have no voice in what we perform or how we express our political and social opinions. I have a voice. It’s just soft.”

We wrapped up our conversation with the audience, thanked them for tuning in, and signed off the live stream. I was a little stunned. Cindy had just moved us from being musical partners to being romantically involved. I think our parents were a little surprised, too. The only ones who weren’t surprised were everyone in my pod.

“It’s already become a hashtag,” Joan said from across the room where she was monitoring everything. She’d taken advantage of the long weekend to come home for a visit. Beca was thrilled and sat with her looking at how she monitored our performances online.

“What has?” Donna asked.

“I have a voice,” Joan replied. “It’s like a rallying call for women. #Ihaveavoice is trending.”

“Well, at least I’m not the only one getting turned into a meme,” I laughed.