Ed was finishing with a burst of accordion staccatos when Daniela turned to me and quietly said, “I can’t do it.”
“Excuse me?” I said, pretending I didn’t hear her.
“I can’t go up and sing in front of the whole school. I just can’t, Adam.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? You have to,” I told her firmly.
The Flying Perogies packed up their instruments. Competitive eater Marty Jenkins prepared to take the stage.
“I thought I could do it,” said Daniela with tears in her eyes, “but I can’t.”
I looked into Daniela’s eyes and realized she was in real trouble. “But what about the moves you’ve been practicing at home for hours and hours in front of the mirror?” I asked, doing one of her little shimmies. “Who’ll get to see them?”
“I can’t go up in front of everyone and have them all staring at me. I just can’t.” She started to sob helplessly.
I didn’t know what to do. Marty was explaining the finer points of competitive eating to the audience. He opened a giant vat filled with meatballs.
“One hundred and one Swedish meatballs,” he told the audience. “And I am going to eat them all in the next seven minutes. The audience gasped in a combination of anticipation and disgust.
Daniela wiped her nose on the sleeve of her tuxedo shirt. “I’m so sorry, Cuz. I wish I was someone else, but I’m just a coward.”
Suddenly I had an idea!
“You can be someone else!” I told Daniela confidently. “Come with me.”
With everybody in the gym, we made a quick trip to the drama room without being noticed. In the prop basket, I found a short, blond wig which I quickly slapped over Daniela’s red ponytail. We looked in the mirror.
Maybe.
Then I added a pair of dark, oversized sunglasses.
Perhaps.
I tied a red scarf around her neck.
We were getting there.
Finally, I added a leather jacket.
Now we were in business!
Beside me no longer stood Daniela Olafson. Staring back at us in the mirror was the new lead singer of Sick on a Snow Day!
The wig completely transformed Daniela. Sick on a Snow Day’s old lead singer was a tall girl with dramatic, long, red hair. Our new lead singer was a lanky Scandinavian boy with a blond bowl cut and cheesy taste in sunglasses.
“You’re a new person,” I told her as I tucked the rest of her ponytail up under the wig’s elastic meshing. “Olaf Danielson—our distant Swedish cousin. No one will ever know it’s you. You’re free to go up on stage and rock.”
She was staring in the mirror. “You think?” she asked.
“I know!” I replied confidently. It was our best shot.
“I’m not sure,” she said, playing with her posture, trying to hunch her shoulders and appear less feminine.
“No time to worry. We’re up next,” I said pushing her out of the room. I could hear cheering coming from the gym.
We passed a couple of girls at the water fountain.
“Hey, Adam,” said a grade seven girl whose name I couldn’t remember. “Who’s your friend?”
The girls were smiling at Daniela. I nudged Daniela in the ribs and she smiled at me with growing confidence. “You can do it!” I assured her.
The closer we got to the gym the louder the yelling got. “Ninety, ninety-one, ninety-two!”
The crowd was in a frenzy. Marty was nine meatballs away from reaching his goal. His cheeks puffed out with meat. He looked like a chipmunk.
“Ninety-three, ninety-four!”
“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick,” said Daniela.
“Take a deep breath,” I told her. “The stage fright will pass in a sec.”
“It’s not the stage fright,” she said. “It’s Marty and those meatballs. I can’t watch!” She covered her eyes.
Daniela and I did our best to get backstage. We needed to find the rest of the band and let them in on the plan. But it was difficult. Wilcott was going berserk.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine!”
Marty was on meatball 100 when we finally got backstage. He picked up meatball 101 and gazed at it. I noticed he was looking a bit green. He hesitated. For a moment, I thought I might have enough time to gather the band and give them the scoop. But then he popped the meatball in his mouth, swallowed, and raised his arms in the air. The room went wild.
“Stay hungry!” yelled Marty as he exited the stage with his fists still in the air.
It was our turn!
“We’ve been looking all over for you!” huffed Sludge. “Where’s Daniela?”
“Look, this is—”
“Hey, he’s cute,” said Beena.
“Really cute,” agreed Meena. Beena and Meena smiled at “Olaf.”
Sludge knew something wasn’t right. “Wait a sec—” he began.
“Yeah,” I interrupted. “This is Daniela. But today she’s our cousin, Olaf. From Sweden. I’ll explain later.”
Sludge looked our new lead singer up and down. “Cool!” he decided.
We took our places. As Sludge knocked his drumsticks, I started to wonder if Daniela would be able to pull off our Swedish switcheroo. I wasn’t worried about her singing. Her voice was low and husky. And, while I was proud of my quick thinking, I began to doubt if a simple wig and a pair of sunglasses could cure Daniela’s stage fright.
I stole a look at Daniela. I tried to catch her eye but she was staring at the ground. Instead of starting the song, she let the introduction run long. I started having a mini freak-out. What if Daniela’s vocal chords were paralyzed with fear? Shooting a few sideways glances at each other, Beena, Meena and Sludge did their best to go with the flow. We repeated the introduction to “Detention Blues.”
Was Daniela going to faint? I debated running over to catch her fall. Slowly, she raised her head. Finally, she looked out into the crowd and glared fiercely. Raising her arms dramatically, she wordlessly demanded that all of J.R. Wilcott get on their feet and clap. My new cousin Olaf was working the room! With the crowd clapping rhythmically, Daniela started to sing the first line of “Detention Blues.”
Suddenly my stomach sank. The song! Sludge had written “Detention Blues” for Daniela. It would make no sense if it was sung by a guy. Luckily, Daniela proved to be very quick on her feet. She changed the lyrics on the fly:
I’m just a dude with blond hair
Singing a tale about things that aren’t fair
She continued to improvise.
A girl falling for guy from the wrong side of the hood
Between them many weeks of detention stood.
After school she was free as a bird
But he was trapped until December 3rd.
The Detention Blues, oh so blue
And he’s also grounded, too.
Wilcotters loved it! They clapped to the beat as Daniela strutted around the stage. They swooned as she crooned and shimmied and shook. She even pulled a grade sixer up on the stage to dance with her. Feeding off the energy, Meena ripped into her guitar solo. She electrified the room. Finally, Daniela dropped to her knees and looked into the crowd. Together, they sang the final chorus:
The Detention Blues, oh so blue
And he’s also grounded, too.
Sludge came out from behind the drums. Sick on a Snow Day joined hands and took a bow. The crowd roared with appreciation. “Olaf” took an extra bow and the room went wild! Finally, we left the stage. In the end, the contest wasn’t even close. Backstage, the other acts were gracious about our victory. Marty lay on the ground, wastebasket nearby, but he gave us the victory sign.
“Great lyrics,” said Rocks Mudman of We Wuz Framed. “Everyone knows what it’s like to be stuck in detention.”
“When did that blond kid transfer here?” asked Kristian Bloch of WETPDA. “We could use someone with his charisma to help us head up our new campaign, ‘Totally Tofu/No Pigs in Pigskin.’”
I was
saved by my lead guitarist and bassist. Meena grabbed one of my arms and Beena grabbed the other. Together, they propelled me into a corner where Sludge was already waiting. I had some explaining to do. I gave them the quick version of events.
“I never would have picked Daniela to have stage fright,” said Meena. “If anyone, I thought it would be you freaking out about your piano playing.”
“Me, too,” echoed Beena. “Quick thinking with the costume change, Adam. She looked great. I didn’t really believe it was Daniela until she started to dance at the end.”
Sludge was a bit disappointed. “I wrote the song for Daniela. And now it’s being sung by some Swedish dude named Olaf. I mean, I know it’s Daniela—but it’s just weird, man.”
Where was Daniela anyhow? Another pair of hands grabbed my arm. Expecting my cousin, I spun around and grabbed…Principal Losman.
“Congratulations to you, too, Adam,” he laughed. “Well-deserved, although I had hoped The Subtractions’ song might have fared a bit better.”
I smiled at him, not really listening. Where was Daniela? I craned my neck trying to search for her.
“I’d like you and Daniela to meet me in my office in fifteen minutes so we can talk about that new lead singer of yours,” said Principal Losman. “I heard his name is Olaf?”
My neck quickly snapped back into place. I tried to appear casual as Principal Losman looked at me.
“See you in fifteen,” he reminded me.
I quickly went off to find my cousin—the red-headed one.
“Maybe we should tell him the truth?” suggested Daniela.
“No way,” I replied. I had found Daniela and we were taking the long way to Principal Losman’s office. “If we tell him the truth, we might have to give our crown to the Perogies,” I reasoned. “I’ve got a better idea. We make up some story about Olaf doing an exchange program for the semester.”
Daniela frowned, “What am I supposed to do for the next few months? I can’t go around and pretend to be Cousin Olaf. The wig was really itchy and my Swedish accent stinks.”
“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet. I came up with Cousin Olaf in the first place, didn’t I? And on such short notice, too,” I added pointedly, as we approached Principal Losman’s office.
We knocked and opened the door a crack. Principal Losman was sitting at his desk filling out some papers. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was humming the chorus of “Losman is Tops, Man.” He waved us into the two chairs in front of his desk.
“I wanted to talk to the two of you about your new lead singer,” he began.
“You mean, Cousin Olaf,” I said trying to appear in control of the situation. “He’s our cousin from Scandinavia. Sweden, actually. You know—the country north of Denmark, south of Norway. Part of the Great Kingdom,” I floundered. I was beginning to regret turning down Sludge’s offer to pull the fire alarm and buy us some time to come up with a plan. But I figured we were in enough trouble already.
“Daniela,” said Principal Losman, “I thought you were the lead singer of Sick on A Snow Day. What happened?”
I could tell Daniela wanted to come clean about her stage fright. Principal Losman was actually decent—for a principal—and he was looking at Daniela with understanding eyes. Before she could open her mouth, I interrupted.
“Cousin Olaf is actually our cousin on our mothers’ sides. Their brother, Sam, once went over to Sweden on business. Computer stuff, I think. He fell in love with a stewardess and married her right when they got off the plane.” The story didn’t sound too bad so far. I looked to Daniela for support. She nodded at me to go on. So I continued, “Our parents decided cousin Olaf should come here on exchange. So he can learn all sorts of new stuff.”
Principal Losman smiled. “Indeed.”
“Our school is a really good place...to learn new stuff,” I said lamely.
“Really good,” added Daniela, realizing that I was struggling.
“Especially if you have Mr. Papernick for math,” I added. “That man really knows his numbers.”
“But Olaf is not enrolled at J.R. Wilcott,” said Principal Losman. “How can he be on an exchange program if he’s not coming to our school?”
Evidently, Principal Losman was going to be a tough nut to crack.
“It’s a special exchange, Principal Losman. He’s here to learn about North American culture. Instead of going to school, he does things like…”
“…go to the mall,” ad-libbed Daniela.
“Yeah! Totally!” I agreed enthusiastically. “He goes to the mall and then writes a report comparing our stores to Swedish stores. Then he emails the report to his school in Sweden.”
“It’s a very advanced exchange program,” added Daniela.
“He also sees movies here and then compares them with the ones back in Sweden. Same with hockey games and donuts.”
The story sounded solid. In fact, I wanted to go on this cool new exchange program. I was sure Principal Losman was buying it hook, line, and sinker.
“So how did Cousin Olaf get involved in the band?” he asked, his mouth twitching at the corners.
“My throat started to feel sore last week,” fibbed Daniela, coughing a bit for good measure. “It got worse and worse until I didn’t think I’d be able to sing. Adam and I knew that Olaf has a good voice.”
“We hear him in the bathroom every morning,” I quipped.
“It was a last-minute solution,” said Daniela, “but we were desperate.”
“As you heard earlier, Principal Losman, the guy can sing.” I added.
“Fantastically,” said Daniela. “He’s got a great low register and wow, can he hit those high notes!”
“So we invited him to join the band,” I said, cutting Daniela off before she gave herself away. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. It was a very last-minute thing.”
Principal Losman’s lips twitched some more. “That sounds like some exchange program. Comparative donut analysis? I think I might sign myself up next semester.”
Then he started laughing. The jig was obviously up.
“You knew the whole time?” I asked.
“I knew the whole time,” he confirmed. “But I never knew you had such a good imagination, Adam. Comparing donuts!” He started chuckling again. “I think you should give creative writing a shot, young man.”
Daniela and I nervously waited for him to continue. On the one hand, he was laughing; on the other, he had called us into his office. We waited for the fallout of our attempted deception.
“I’ve got one last question for the two of you. If there were no sore-throat issues, why did you do it?”
Daniela took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to me, Principal Losman. I woke up this morning paralyzed with stage fright.” She seemed relieved to finally tell the truth. “As much as I wanted to go onstage, as much as I had prepared, I just couldn’t do it.” Then she told him how my idea cured her jitters.
“Impressive,” commented Principal Losman.
Daniela pleaded one last time, “The chance to sing in front of the school means so much to me, Principal Losman. Please don’t make me let down the band. We worked so hard for this.”
“Olaf will appear at the District Donnybrook and that will be it,” I told him. “Then he’ll be on a plane to Sweden. We promise.”
Principal Losman thought for a minute and then smiled. “I can see how much you love performing, Daniela, in spite of the stage fright. And how important it is not to disappoint your friends. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t reveal your cover.”
Daniela and I smiled at each other in relief.
He continued, “But you need to keep this situation in check. Olaf will be responsible for his own education. Let’s call it ‘self-directed learning.’ In other words, he won’t be attending any classes at J.R. Wilcott, understood?”
We nodded. The Swedish sensation was back in town!
After
school, we found Sludge and the Z’s in the back of the cafeteria, celebrating with ice-cream sundaes. They were toasting each other with vanilla, chocolate, and hot fudge.
“Daniela,” asked Beena, “what happened to you?”
“Yeah, what happened?” echoed Meena.
Before we could explain, we were surrounded by half of our grade six classmates. The female half!
The first to approach us was Janine Stroop. All of grade six knew she was boy crazy.
Janine got right to the point. “Olaf is totally hot. He is Sick on a Snow Day.”
“Is it true that he’s come all the way from Norway?” asked Lisa Hutchin, popping up behind her.
“Sweden,” corrected Daniela.
“And he’s involved in an exchange program where he hangs out at the mall?” questioned Janine and Lisa’s best friend, Sarah Hibbit.
“Yup,” I answered quickly, trying to shoo them away. “He’s there right now.”
Janine looked at Sarah and Lisa.
“He’s going to need help finding the stores with the best clothes,” said Lisa.
“And the coolest music,” said Sarah.
“Don’t forget about food,” said Janine.
“To the mall!” agreed all three girls as they walked away.
I had managed to tell the rest of the band about Daniela’s case of stage fright right after our meeting with Principal Losman. Of course, I’d also filled them in on my quick thinking. Sludge and the Z’s were so impressed that they’d wasted no time in spreading the legendary story of Cousin Olaf around the school. They weren’t as impressed, however, when I set up our practice schedule.
“Four practices a week?” said Sludge. “I’m not exactly one for school, but I’m going to need a little more time to get my homework done, dude. I’m finished with detention this week and I’m hoping to enjoy a little sunshine before I get sent back there.”
Beena and Meena agreed with Sludge. Daniela wanted to support me, but even she agreed our practice schedule was a bit intense.
The BEDMAS Conspiracy Page 4
