Stacy's Song

by Jacqueline Seewald

  “That’s enough,” he said with an abruptness that hurt.

  “Something wrong?” I snapped back at him.

  “No, matter of fact, it sounded just right. Liz has a good ear. You do have the sound we need. If you’re half as good a musician, we’re going to have a great sound.”

  The doorbell rang and Liz went to answer it. Moments later, she was followed into the room by a lean muscular boy with curly copper hair.

  “Stacy, I’d like to introduce you to Jimmy, who’ll handle drums for us.”

  Jimmy held out a clammy hand to me with fingernails encrusted in grime. I recognized him from school; he was a year ahead of me.

  “I’m glad you could make it. Maybe we could have our first practice today.”

  Jimmy nodded his head and offered an agreeable smile. “Sure, my old man doesn’t need me at the garage ‘til later anyway.”

  “Okay” I said, “I’ll stay but I better call my mother and tell her I’ll be late getting home.” I rummaged through my backpack and found my cell phone. It rang several times before the phone got picked up at my house.

  “Hello, this is Star Ship Ten Captain speaking.”

  I sighed deeply. “Listen, squirt, put Mom on.”

  “Mom who? Captains don’t have moms onboard ship.”

  “Andy!”

  Okay, okay!” My ten-year-old brother can be a nuisance at times. He has the wildest imagination of anyone I know, a real sci-fi freak. I would have no objection to launching him on a spacecraft to Jupiter.

  A moment or two passed before I heard my mother’s voice. I told her where I was and what I would be doing.

  “Do I know this Liz Norris?” Already she sounded worried, typical of Mom. I explained to her about the band thing. I figured if anyone would understand it would be my mother. After all, Mom and I did share a love of music. “All right,” she said, “but if you stay there until it’s dark, call back and I’ll pick you up.” I agreed and then got off the phone.

  Back in the living room, Jimmy and Liz set up for the practice session. Jimmy had brought drums. I could tell the way Liz looked at Jimmy that she liked him a lot. He had the same way of looking at her. Liz brought me one of the electric guitars and demonstrated it. Then she handed me some music. I studied it carefully until I could hear it in my head. The electric guitar was not as difficult to pick up as I thought it would be. Michael stayed at the piano. Within an hour, we sounded surprisingly good together. Michael had us try a vocal arrangement of his Corona of the Sun. He told me to sing lead while he joined in, harmonizing his voice to mine. It amazed me how well we blended together. When we finished Liz and Jimmy broke into applause.

  “That was fantastic!” Liz exclaimed. “I knew it was a good song but now it sounds like a great one.”

  “Top of the charts,” Jimmy agreed, making a thumbs-up sign.

  “No, it still needs work,” Michael remarked with a moody jerk of his head.

  “Maybe,” Liz said, “but you can’t deny we’ve got a special sound here, something magical.”

  Michael didn’t say anything nor did his face change expression but I thought that he had to agree with Liz. Part of it was the quality of the music itself. Still we did perform together in an exciting way. The whole seemed more than the sum of the parts.

  I lost track of time. It was dark when we finished. I regretted having to call my mother back and have her pick me up, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “I’d like us to practice together three times a week,” Michael said, “even more if we can manage it. We’ve still got a long way to go if we’re going to develop a professional sound and repertoire.”

  “I can’t practice that often,” I objected.

  “Why not?” he challenged. He stood up and walked over to me. We were just about the same height, but he was trying to impose himself and intimidate me. I had no intention of letting him pull that.

  “I have other things to do as well.”

  “Like what?” he persisted.

  “Like homework.”

  “I won’t interfere with that.”

  “And then there’s cheerleading practice.”

  He let out a deep groan. “Don’t tell me you’re one of the rah-rah girls.”

  I hated his sarcastic tone. “Not yet, but my friend and I are trying out for the squad.”

  “God help you if you make it!”

  I felt my cheeks glow hot. “Don’t underestimate cheerleading. It takes a lot of skill and hard work.” I knew I sounded defensive but I truly resented his belittling tone. “You’ll just have to accept the fact that I can’t always be at your beck and call. I can divide my time.”

  “That might not be good enough. There may come a time when you’ll have to choose. If that should happen, I’d like to know where your real loyalty is. I don’t want you walking out on us just when we need you. It would be better if you were honest from the start. Can we count on you?”

  The urgent way he spoke, I almost felt that he was talking about more than forming a band. Anyway I never got to reply because Liz stepped between us.

  “Why don’t you stay for dinner? You and Jimmy are both welcome.”

  “No, I couldn’t, thanks. My parents expect me home. Besides I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family meal.”

  Liz cast her eyes downward as if I had said something hurtful.

  “Hey, you can’t intrude on what doesn’t exist,” Michael said. The bitterness was back.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Skip it.” He turned his back toward me.

  “What Michael means,” Liz explained “is that our father is dead and our mother works very long hours. She rarely has dinner with us. We’re on our own. Lucky for Michael I enjoy cooking—kind of. So you see meals are pretty informal around here. You can stay and eat with us anytime.” Liz’s great gray eyes looked somber, much older than her fifteen years. I had a sudden glimpse into her life and realized how lucky I was in comparison.

  Anyway, Jimmy took Liz up on her dinner invitation and she seemed pleased. It also amazed me how well Jimmy managed to get along with Michael, but then anyone could tell Jimmy had an easy-going disposition. It would be difficult for even someone with Michael’s temperament not to like Jimmy.

  Liz walked me out to the porch to wait for my mother. She seemed to want to talk further. “I hope you understand why I didn’t tell you about Michael in advance.”

  “I think I do,” I replied.

  Liz pushed her pale bangs back from her heart-shaped face. “It was just that I wanted you to come here today. I knew once you heard Michael’s music you’d be hooked. A lot of people are put off by the fact that he’s handicapped. Kids are especially funny about that. They don’t want to bother with someone who’s disabled, like they think he’s weird or something or maybe they think his handicap will rub off on them.”

  “What bothers me about Michael isn’t his blindness, it’s his attitude.”

  “I know,” Liz conceded. “He is a difficult person, but it’s been rough on him since the accident.”

  “Accident?” I repeated thinking I must sound like a pet parrot.

  “Yeah, when Michael lost his sight. It was horrible for him. Outwardly he’s adjusted to it. He’s doing well in his school. But inside he hasn’t come to terms with it. That’s why the music is so important. You see that, don’t you?” Liz waited for me to respond.

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  “The music gives Michael an outlet for his feelings, for what’s inside of him. It’s also his chance for some success. That’s why we need you. Hearing you and Michael together convinced me that I was right. If he’s ever to have a chance, he’s got to be outstanding, someone they can’t ignore. With you, our group will be exactly that.”

  For the second time today I felt embarrassed and uneasy.

  “I’ll come to the practice sessions,” I promised her. “Let’s see how it goes.” I still felt uncomfortable though. I thought Liz was
expecting too much, hoping too hard, but I knew I couldn’t let her down.

  “You won’t regret it,” Liz said with enthusiasm. “We’ll make it work.”

  I wasn’t as certain. All I knew was that I found being around Michael Norris disturbing.

  Maybe it was his blindness that made me uneasy. I don’t know. I never had contact with a handicapped person before. And yet I could empathize with him.

  The truth was in spite of any musical talent I might possess I always felt unsure of myself. My appearance was kind of a handicap as far as I was concerned. I felt insecure about my height as well as being gawky and skinny.

  I wasn’t pretty enough to be admired by boys or asked out on dates. Things were getting better but old feelings die-hard. So in a real sense I could understand how Michael Norris felt, but he still infuriated me.

  Chapter Two

  “Without a doubt, Greg Lawson is the most gorgeous guy I ever laid eyes on!” We were at Sal’s Pizza place where a lot of kids hang out after school when Karen made her declaration, a tad too loud for my tastes. I quickly glanced around to see if anyone happened to be listening to Karen but no one paid the slightest attention to either of us. I wasn’t certain whether to be relieved or disappointed. “Come on, Stace, admit it: isn’t he an awesome piece of work?”

  “Karen!” I threw her a warning look. But I couldn’t help glancing sideways toward Greg’s table.

  As always other jocks and some of the cheerleaders surrounded him—all juniors like him and even a few seniors. He seemed to be at the hub, the center of the group. Karen was right, he was a hot hunk. But it was more than just looks. He had a self-assured attitude about him that reflected in the way he walked and talked, the erect posture and jaunty smile. I studied his wavy blond hair, cut short, and his dazzling blue eyes, sparkling like mountain lakes suffused in sunshine. He was telling a story at the moment and everyone listened in a relaxed manner. Then they laughed together. He had a nice laugh, I decided. His teeth showed even and white and he had a way of jutting his angular jaw that made him look macho. I let out a deep sigh. Watching him was like going to a museum and looking at a Greek statue. Yeah, he was an Adonis for sure.

  “Imagine how great it would be to be part of that crowd,” Karen said. Her eyes took on a dreamy expression.

  I watched Cindy Ellis, the pretty co-captain of the cheerleaders place her tapered hand possessively on Greg’s muscular forearm. “Imagining is as far as we’re going to get.”

  Karen shot me an annoyed look. “I think Greg is smiling in our direction right now.”

  “No he’s not,” I observed. “One of his friends just walked through the door.”

  Karen frowned at me. “Don’t be such a grouch! One of these days, it will be us. We’re going to be popular. Just wait until we make the cheering squad! Everything will change.”

  “You want to be like Cindy Ellis?”

  Karen tossed her head. “Why not? Everybody treats her like she’s special. All the guys want to date her; they practically salivate over her.” Karen leaned over and whispered, “She’s got cleavage.”

  I studied Cindy, narrowing my eyes. “Yep, considerable cleavage.”

  “Wish I had that,” Karen sighed.

  “You’ve got more than I have,” I noted.

  “You’re fine,” Karen said, telling what was clearly a whopper.

  My figure could be described as an example of plane geometry. Mom referred to me as a late bloomer.

  “Maybe we ought to go bra shopping, Stace. I think they’re having a sale at the mall.”

  “You think we should look for push-up and padded?”

  “I guess a little micro-fill wouldn’t hurt. Come on, it’s still early, let’s go back to the gym and practice some more cheers on our own.” The green in Karen’s eyes shone with a zealot’s intensity.

  “I’ve got a big French test to study for. I better go home.”

  Karen twisted a strand of her curly hair unhappily. “Come on, Stace, just an extra half hour, okay? We can take the late bus from school and study together at my house.”

  I agreed grudgingly. I needed to clinch my B in French for the year. My dad expected me to maintain a good scholastic average. He’d drilled it into me that I have to go to a first-rate college and that I’ll never get in if I don’t at least maintain a B average throughout high school. I can’t let Dad down. But lately it was becoming harder to keep up with everything. There were extra practices called for orchestra in the last few weeks. The concert was only five days away and Mr. DeCamp’s left eye had developed a noticeable tick. Still, I could never refuse Karen, French test or no French test. Helping Karen achieve her goal was important to me. Isn’t that what friendship is all about?

  The gym was empty now and the school itself seemed deserted. It gave me sort of an eerie feeling. But I went through the cheers with Karen trying to rouse the necessary enthusiasm. I did enjoy the physical activity just for itself and when Karen went out to the cafeteria to buy us each a can of soda at the machine I continued to work out on my own.

  “We’re from Wilson, we couldn’t be any prouder, and if you can’t hear us, we’ll yell a little louder!” I loved that cheer. My mother told me they used the same one when she attended high school. So it’s totally ancient. The next one I did belonged in an antique shop too and ended with: “Cause when you’re up, you’re up, and when you’re down, you’re down, and when you’re up against Wilson, you’re upside down!” I ended the cheer with the required cartwheel. As I returned to my feet, I could hear footsteps behind me. Breathlessly, I looked up expecting to see Karen returning with the sodas. Instead there stood Ms. Gladstone, our gym teacher who also acted as cheerleading advisor, her tall, slender frame poised before me.

  “Excellent, Stacy, real improvement! It’s rare that I see a student staying so late and working out with so much vigor. I must say I’m impressed with your enthusiasm for cheering. You’re showing the kind of dedication and determination necessary to make the squad.”

  I found myself blushing. “It was Karen Rainey’s idea. She’s here with me.”

  “I’m pleased,” she responded, beaming. “Keep up the good work. But I’m afraid that’s it for today. They’re closing the gym now.”

  I followed Ms. Gladstone out into the corridor where I waited for Karen to return. While we stood watching for the arrival of the activity bus, I told Karen what had happened.

  “That’s great! Now Ms. Gladstone knows we’re serious. See what that means? We’re sure to make it next time. It was smart to come back today, wasn’t it? She probably thought we were there the whole time.”

  “Just don’t get your hopes too high,” I told her. “We still suck.”

  “Speak for yourself,” my friend said, preening. “I’m terrific.”

  ***

  By the time school ended in late June, I was bone tired. There had been a great flurry of work and activity toward the end of the term. Final exams were grueling. I nearly threw up during my geometry final I was so sick to my stomach from nerves. But then finally it was all over. I waited for the grades to arrive impatiently. Two weeks after exams we got the results. I had better than a B average overall for the year.

  My dad seemed satisfied and I felt relieved. I didn’t want to even see another textbook for the rest of the summer. When I told my dad that, after presenting him with my report card, his behavior was predictable. “Stacy, you promised me you were going to study for the PSAT exam in the fall. I expect you to work on it an hour every day.” I didn’t argue. My dad’s severe expression said it all. His heart was good but he demanded a lot.

  I seemed to be surrounded by determined, obsessed people. There was also Michael Norris. During exams I wouldn’t even consider going to band practice, and before that, there had been the orchestra concert to practice for. But now that school had ended for the summer Michael was making demands on my time too.

  “We can get down to some serious work now,” he told me. �
�Time we started to think of getting some professional equipment if we’re going to have a quality sound. That means we need to pick up some work.”

  “Easier said than done,” I told him. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to become professional anyway. Being an amateur musician appealed to me a lot more.

  “With school out,” Jimmy said, “there aren’t any school dances and practically no parties.”

  “We could advertise, put up signs on the bulletin boards at the supermarket and the library,” Liz suggested.

  “That’s a good idea,” Jimmy agreed.

  Michael shook his head. “It won’t get us much.”

  They all looked so discouraged that I found myself coming up with my own suggestion. “The swim club my family joins every summer has this night club. Actually, it operates year round. It’s not a big fancy place but it uses live entertainment. Every Wednesday during the summer the club sponsors a teen night; at least they’ve always done it in the past. I know the owner Mr. Kemp. He’s a pretty nice guy. I could ask him if he would hire us. I doubt he’s gotten anyone else yet. He’s the kind of person that puts things off. My mom says the adult pool isn’t even ready for the summer yet. That’s typical of him. Anyway, I can find out if he’d be interested.”

  “That would be fabulous,” Liz said. Her eyes lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks.

  “I don’t know,” Michael said. “We don’t have a track record. Why would he hire us for the job?”

  “I’ll tell him we’re terrific. I’ll also tell him we work cheap. Besides, we’ll never get any experience if we don’t try.

  ***

  We decided that I would approach Mr. Kemp. I didn’t expect to get us a job, but I did speak to him the next day. And no one was more surprised than me when Mr. Kemp agreed to give us a try-out. When I told the others that evening, they were ecstatic—except for Michael.