Chapter 121

“Whatever story you’re telling, it will be more interesting if, at the end you add, ‘and then everything burst into flames’.”
—Brian P. Cleary, You Oughta Know By Now

“SOLO PERFORMANCE allows a great deal of room for individual interpretation,” LeBlanc said at the beginning of orchestra Monday. “We have many solo performers in this orchestra. However, even principals understand that when the orchestra plays, they are no longer soloists but are part of the blended whole.” There were a lot of nods around the room. We were getting ready to rehearse the Mozart Concerto for Flute, Harp, and Orchestra in C major, K299 for the first time. Cindy would solo. I was covering the harp part. “Hopkins!”

“Yes, sir,” I said coming suddenly alert.

“In the midst of solo performance, what is the thing a soloist cannot do?”

“Uh ... Mess up?” There were titters around the room. LeBlanc scowled at me.

“The soloist cannot change the notes the composer wrote,” he snarled. “Even when you, or you and Cindy, are performing in a masquerade, the one thing you cannot do is change what the composer wrote! Practice the damn music the way it is written!”

Well, I guess he hadn’t gotten over our video performance. Apparently, however, the arranger was exempt from that restriction. I noted the part for guitar he gave me was substantially different from the harp part it was replacing. Arranged by Leonard LeBlanc. He launched us straight into the Concerto and we played twenty measures before he cut us off, lectured again, and started over. Thankfully, I wasn’t the brunt of that lecture having had only two chords to play at the beginning. I was sure I would come under fire again later. Playing the transcribed harp music was painful. I was glad when the break came and I could head out for lunch with my girlfriends.

“Hopkins,” LeBlanc said as I headed toward the door. I stopped at faced him.

“Your video performance was highly creative. I’m sorry we were so tied up in discussions I did not express my appreciation Saturday night.” Wow! That’s unexpected.

“Thank you, sir. I wasn’t sure you liked it.”

“I didn’t say I liked it,” he smirked. “I have, however, come to realize that you are the creative director of Marvel and Hopkins. Actually, I was informed of that by your producer. Ms. Levy was certainly a good choice for that role. I’m concerned, though, that you are going to take the performances to such an extreme that you will lose the focus on the music. What are your plans?”

“I understand what you are saying,” I sighed. “The Mountain Monster, as we called the piece we put together, was opportune. We were all working together at the faires and learning about live performance and becoming a unit. But that isn’t what we plan for every performance. For example, we plan to do the Suite Buenos Aires for our next piece and it is more of a recital piece.”

“Very good. You should consider an arranger for the next—for now, let’s call them masquerades—performance you do. Once you conceive of your script, so to speak, a good arranger could make sure the music is adjusted to suit it. The result will be less improvisational.”

“Thank you for that advice, sir.”

“Go. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your lunch. If you need a few extra minutes to finish, I won’t count you tardy for the second half of class. We’ll be working on the orchestration in the first movement.”

I took off and got to the table in time to open my lunch and gulp it down. My girlfriends were staring at me and practically bouncing in their seats.

“Well? Did you?” Beca burst out. I glanced nervously at Cindy.

“I don’t think we should discuss this at the lunch table,” I said. “I know everyone wants to know and the answer is ‘yes,’ but I’m not going to discuss it any further at school.”

There were no complaints, though Cindy looked puzzled. Rachel leaned against me and held my left arm in a tender caress. She just rubbed her cheek on my shoulder and whispered, “Mmmhmm. So good.”

“How are we splitting up this weekend?” I asked. “Who is riding with whom and to where?”

“Livy and I are going with Nanette to Noblesville for her race,” Rachel said. “Think you can do without us in Kentucky?”

“You know we’ll miss you,” Desi said. “My pillows won’t feel the same without your head resting on them.” She bounced her breasts a little. Rachel did seem to like to sleep on them.

“Do we need to take more than one vehicle? I can transport six. Myself, Desi, Brittany, Sophie, Beca, and Donna. Can we stand to all ride in the truck for five hours?”

“Um ... I’m not going down,” Beca said. We all turned to look at her.

“My mom is getting home from Thailand this weekend. I really need to be here to welcome her home.”

“Um ... Do you want someone to stay with you? We can figure something out,” Brittany said. “It’s not like I’m critical to the troupe.”

“Yes, you are!” Desi said. “Who would flap my wings? How about Donna? I mean, I want her with us as much as anyone but maybe she’d stay with Beca.”

“Don’t. Stop,” Beca said, waving her hands. “No one needs to stay with me. Um ... Joan is coming down from Chicago for the weekend.”

“She can do that?”

“It’s a holiday weekend and she’s in training. They all get the weekend off,” Beca said. “Really, she works a forty-hour week and has regular holidays.”

“Em never got that. She had to work over Thanksgiving and Christmas,” I sighed.

“Yeah. We’re learning a lot. The divisions of labor are as clear in the service as they are in the workplace. Joan is a white collar computer professional. Emily is a truck driver,” Beca sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with that but no one cares if a computer animation is completed over the weekend. Everyone needs their food delivered whether it is a holiday or not.”

“Em said she got compensatory time off,” I nodded. “I’m glad Joan can come down to spend the weekend with you.”

“Excuse me, Jacob?” Cindy said.

“Hey, what’s up. You don’t have to ask permission to talk. Just jump in like everyone else does.”

“If ... uh ... Rebeca isn’t going to Kentucky ... I mean ... Would you have room for me to ride along?”

“Really? Isn’t your mom driving?”

“It’s been a little tense this weekend. She doesn’t see it as being important for her to drive me all the way to Kentucky when we’ve already shot and released our video.”

“Cindy, if your mom will give permission, we’d be happy to have you with us in the truck and for the weekend.”

I still had an obstacle to getting us all to Kentucky this weekend. I did my five mile pacesetter run during cross country practice and Jock had me continue for another five laps so I got in a full 10k run. The rest of the team was stretching out and ready for the showers by the time I finished. Jock came over and walked with me around the track.

“I’d like you to pick up the pace by five seconds, starting Wednesday. We’ve got two weeks to train for the Northrop Invitational. There’s no 10k this weekend in Terre Haute. Can you do that for me? We can cut thirty seconds off your time in two weeks.”

“I’ll do my best, Jock. I think I can do that. It’s only five seconds a mile, right?” I laughed. “Um ... I was wondering, though. Since there’s no long race in Terre Haute, would it be okay if I skipped this race entirely?”

“You don’t want to run the 5k?” he asked. The plan was to take ten runners each for the varsity and junior varsity, but once they got there, only seven runners would be allowed to compete. The other three were backups in case someone got sick or injured before the race.

“It’s not really my race. I think some of the other guys should get a crack at it. We’ve got at least ten now who can crack eighteen minutes on a 5k and that’s the best you could expect from me.”

“Okay, what gives?” he asked as he steadied me while I stretched. Not near as fun as having Nan stretch me.

“It’s the last weekend of the Kentucky Renaissance Festival and I promised to help. If I can’t leave until after the races in Terre Haute, we wouldn’t get there until Saturday performances are almost over,” I said. “I didn’t think of going down for this weekend until we saw how successful we were.”

“That’s where you filmed your Mountain Monster video?” Jock asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t make a habit of this. If there had been a 10k at Terre Haute, I wouldn’t permit it.”

“I wouldn’t ask.”

I wanted to go back to Donna’s Monday evening but there was no way either my girlfriends or my parents would allow that. We’d all agreed on a Wednesday study session and dinner at her house. Nanette and Sophie would join us as well. We’d have the whole pod except Joan and Em. Dang, this was hard.

I got a phone call about nine, just as I was settling in to practice for a couple of hours. I wouldn’t have answered but when I saw Cindy’s name pop up, I was puzzled. Cindy seldom called. Usually, it was her mother who had something for me.