The Line

by Courtney Brandt

  While warming up, Lucy tried to downplay her nerves. Although she was usually confident, there was something completely different about indoor than regular marching competitions. With less people to focus on, there was a lot of room for individual scrutiny. The junior was also terrified about the mallet toss Lance had decided to add. Lucy had practiced the drop a million times, but still felt like she could accidently lose her mallet at any time. Henry kept everyone’s concentration high during warm-ups and in what seemed no time at all, it was time to walk in and perform the show.

  Drums ready, they lined up on the court in the opening set and waited for the announcer to ask if the Line was ready to compete. Hearing the opening chords come from the mallet instruments, Lucy fixed herself on the performance and launched herself into the complicated drill. The audience picked up on the theme of the show as the Line went into the recognizable chorus. As one set blended into the next, Lucy gulped, desperately tried to catch her breath and it was time for the stick toss. The airborne mallet connected with her hand for the briefest second and then dropped to the gym floor – right in the middle of a move! With some difficulty, Lucy picked up the mallet as fast as she could and joined her section.

  With her heart pounding wildly, she got back in step, but the drop played over and over in her head. She was sure it was entirely her fault that the Forrest Hills bass line wasn’t going to win the caption. Then, as Henry intended, the show came to a dramatic and abrupt stop. There was thunderous applause and everyone marched out – finding themselves in the offstage area outside behind the gym. Lucy prepared herself for Lance and Jerm’s tirade against her slippery fingers, but there was none. Looking around, she saw everyone was crowded around Mark. Somehow the sophomore had managed to puncture his bass drum head and had been drumming the last half of the show on a busted drum. No one was sure how this would play out with the judges.

  In the excitement of trying to secure a new drumhead for Mark, Lucy found herself relieved for the temporary reprieve of her mallet drop. With only minutes to spare, the Line quickly put their equipment away and rushed inside so they wouldn’t miss the results of the Preliminaries. Forrest Hills, as the returning champion, had been the last drumline to compete. Only the captains and the individual competitors from earlier in the day went down to the gym floor to wait for the results. With everyone settling in for what was sure to be a close race for first, Lucy took a minute to carefully appraise both Sam and Nevada. Although they had all been in the same place at the same time, it was the first chance she had to really observe them. There were so many things about them that were the same…both percussionists, both seniors, but the choice was obvious.

  Molly commented on her friend’s intense stare, “Still coming up with the same decision?”

  “I really wish I did like Nevada. He’s everything I thought I wanted, but when it comes down to it, the answer is Sam.”

  Molly nudged Lucy with her Chuck Taylored foot and said, “He’ll come around.”

  The announcer interrupted their conversation, “Thanks for your patience. We are now pleased to announce the winners of the individual competition from this morning.”

  Nevada and the cymbal line were awarded the top small ensemble trophy. The announcer then moved to the tenor category, “And in first place…from Forrest Hills, Tom Finnegan!”

  While the Forrest Hills drummers exploded with ecstatic applause, a grinning Tom walked up to accept his trophy. Finally, the announcer reached the snare drum category, “The snare individual competition was extremely close this year and by a very small margin…Sam Powell, please come accept your first place trophy.”

  Now it was the South Washington drummers turn to go crazy. Although Lucy’s heart went out to Jerm who looked completely depressed despite having won a respectable second place, she clapped loudly for Sam, proud of his individual win.

  The announcer finished by declaring the preliminary scores. Going to the Finals from Division I would be Forrest Hills, South Washington, Cedar Grove, and Warner high schools. South had edged out Forrest Hills for the overall highest score, so they would be the last to perform.

  Although Forrest Hills was currently in second place, the group walked outside in good moods and immediately noticed the light mist around them. During the announcements, the sky had darkened considerably. It wasn’t raining too hard, but looked like the bruised sky could to open up any minute. And then, as soon as everyone had put on their drums, it started pouring. Each of competing drumlines had to find a place out of the rain to try and do their best to warm up. By the end of the preparations, Lucy could barely feel her fingers around her bass mallets.

  While Henry spoke with Jerm, Lance motioned Lucy over, “Hey Luce?”

  “Yes?” Even though he knew what her section leader was going to say, it didn’t make things any easier. She hated knowing that she had disappointed the basses.

  “Listen, about the toss…”

  “I know, I’m sure I wrecked it for everyone.”

  “You did no such thing.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. ”

  “Are we going to keep it in Finals?”

  “Yes, but this time we’re all going to carry extra mallets,” said Lance, and held out a mallet towards the second bass drummer. There was something in his voice that made her stop and ask, “Lance? You didn’t drop a mallet, did you?”

  “We’ll find out when we listen to the tapes on Monday.”

  With a new drumhead on Mark’s drum and extra mallets in everyone’s pockets, the bass line was ready for Finals. After the other two lines performed, a slightly frozen Forrest Hills marched back into the gym. The announcer had introduced them and they were about to begin the show when there was an incredible crash of thunder outside and the lights in the gym went totally and completely out.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: LIGHTS OUT!

  “Who’s touching me?”

  Lucy recognized the voice as none other than the quick-witted Tom. Over the torrential rain pounding on the roof, a nervous laughter broke out on the gym floor. The Line still stood in formation on the court and waited for the lights to come back on. They didn’t. The gymnasium had no windows so it was pitch black on the court. There was no point of trying move out of the gym, because everyone could hear the storm raging outside. Lucy heard the crowd talking nervously when there was another huge crash of thunder. Suddenly, there was an ear splitting whistle anywhere, which she quickly recognized as Henry. The gym went silent.

  Her instructor’s voice called out, “Alright everyone. The important thing is to stay calm. There’s been an issue from the Emergency Broadcast System for a tornado warning in this area. We all need to stay inside.”

  The announcer added, “Everyone please remain seated. The competition organizers have gone looking for flashlights.”

  There was silence, another crash of thunder and then Lucy heard Jerm say, “Hey guys, I don’t want anyone running into equipment, so take off your drums, and stay seated with your section.”

  Without her vision, all of Lucy’s other senses were heightened as she took off her drum. She could feel the presence of the bass line around her.

  “Luce – how are you doing over there? You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.”

  Lucy recognized Tom’s voice to her left. He hadn’t moved from the quints opening set. She replied, “Umm…nothing. What should I be doing exactly?”

  “Come over here. I want to protect you if the ceiling caves in or something.”

  “Just a minute.”

  Lucy, who was not the most balanced person in the room, decided it would be best if she went over to the quints on her hands and feet. As the bass drummer tried to feel her way through the blindness to where the tenors were, she realized she was in the process of crawling over someone and she had just put her hand in a most inappropriate spot. Lucy’s hand jumped back as if she had touched a flame.

  “You sure you don’t want to get
back together, Luce?” Nevada drawled.

  Lucy found herself turning red and was glad the lights weren’t on. She stammered, “No…I… I have to go see the quints.”

  “Come by any time, we can talk about the first thing that pops up.”

  Without any further issue, Lucy finally made it over to the quints when she saw flashlights entering the room. The announcer’s voice spoke again, “Alright folks, looks like it may be awhile until power gets back on in this area. Until the danger passes, we’re going to keep everyone in the gym. Also, if you will remain seated, we are going to bring in those percussionists who were backstage.”

  Lucy gulped, since Finals were about to start, about the only place there was room was the gym floor. Sure enough, within minutes, Lucy could see flashlights leading the South Washington drumline to sit near Forrest Hill’s Front Ensemble.

  As soon as all of the South drummers were seated the last announcement came, “I’ve just had word from the sponsors and judges, I’d like to apologize to all our percussionists, but this competition has been cancelled due to weather. Your safety is the most important thing to us. Until power is restored, we ask for you to remain calm and seated.”

  Boos and hisses came up from the percussionists. From the Preliminary scores, South Washington had won, but without Finals, it wasn’t a clearly defined win. Finals always brought out the best drumming and the most pressure. What happened in Preliminaries was just that – preliminary. Lucy was completely disappointed – they had all worked so hard for the past month, only to have Mother Nature shut them down.

  “It’s pretty awesome being first,” someone said a little too loudly from near where the South drummers were sitting.

  Lucy knew it wasn’t Sam talking, but that didn’t stop Nevada from commenting, “I wish Sam would just shut up about being first already. It’s not like they won Finals.”

  “I didn’t say anything! Quit putting words in my mouth!” came Sam’s angry response.

  “Then how about you quit stealing our cymbal moves?”

  “Stealing, huh? This coming from the guy who stole my Homecoming date.”

  Lucy could feel the shock waves ripple across the floor. This was news to everyone on the court. She prayed the lights would come back on and this unseen argument would come to an abrupt end.

  “She wouldn’t have needed a date if you hadn't mashed wasabi in Jerm’s eye!”

  Jerm had never told his drummers exactly how or why he had started wearing the eye patch and with that information the emotions on the gym floor were definitely in the process of escalating. Now that Nevada had basically spelled it out for everyone how he had lost use of his eye and Sam had let everyone know that Lucy had been stolen away from him, the tension between the two lines was almost palpable. Lucy couldn't take much more of the testosterone fest that was going on and said loudly, “Alright guys, that’s enough! What happened off the court has nothing to do with our Lines and I think we should keep it that way. Can't we just keep this about drumming?”

  No one was answering and whatever might have happened next, the drummers would never know. Lucy heard Henry’s voice over by the snares, “Alright guys, the storm has calmed down enough so I’m going to try and get us out of here. We’re going to go section by section. Just wait until the flashlight comes over and you can safely walk to the truck. Let's go Pit!”

  She heard Joe, the instructor from South, inform his Line to do something similar.

  Lucy crawled back over to her bass drum. She knew it would be a few minutes until Henry got to her section and willed no further comments or insults to carry across the floor. She laid back, propped her legs up on her drum, trying to block out everything, desperately trying to figure a way out of this crazy situation that was her life.

  Henry interrupted her thoughts, “Come on basses, let’s go.”

  Lucy picked up her drum and slung it over one shoulder, following the flashlight out to the equipment truck and packed up her drum. Outside the gym, she noticed there were branches and leaves strewn everywhere – they had been lucky to miss any injury or permanent damage to themselves or their equipment. However fortunate they had been, the storm had left an unresolved finish to this evening, and Lucy knew it meant next week's competition was going to be unbelievably intense. With all the emotion and energy spent throughout the day, the ride back to Forrest Hills was uncharacteristically quiet. Leaning on Tom’s shoulder, Lucy reflected on the day – everything had started out so great, only to end with a lot of disappointment.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: AMERICAN IDIOTS

  During fifth period on Monday, everyone got a chair and sat down anxiously, waiting to hear the judges’ tapes. They would only be able to listen to the Preliminary tapes, but it would give them something to work on. As Jerm started the first of the three judge’s tapes, Lucy's heart started beating faster. In all the chaos of Saturday, Lucy had forgotten about her dropped stick and was cringing, waiting to hear the judge’s comment on the tape. She knew exactly the spot she dropped her mallet and a couple of notes.

  “What’s this? Second bass needs to work on her mallet skills.”

  In case the judge hadn’t been referring to Lucy by the second bass comment, the “her” definitely cemented who he was talking about. Every single member of the Forrest Hills drumline looked over at Lucy, who responded, “What?! I dropped my mallet – it could happen to anyone!”

  The judge continued, “— and so does fourth bass.”

  Everyone’s head swung around to glare at Lance. The judge continued rapidly, so there was no time to talk about the dropped mallets. Finishing, he concluded his comments, “I like your style Forrest Hills, but I’m just not sure you are collectively a Line this year. I hear all the parts, but I don’t hear them all together. Your playing is outstanding, great licks, phrasing, and stick work, but I’m not hearing it as an ensemble. Work on this for your next competition and you should be unbeatable.”

  There was silence after the tape ended. Never had the Line heard anything on a tape like this before. No matter what the differences off the court, they always managed to be friends and make things work. The first reaction was, of course, to be angry with the judge, but something about what he had said rang true. Lucy knew each section was functioning fine, but the Line all together…?

  Considering their predicament, she decided it was like they were missing Johnny Roastbeef. During her freshman year, the drumline had weirdly happened upon a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure (originally Donatello) while they were practicing early in the season. The turtle had been christened Johnny Roastbeef and went on to be the inside joke of the year. They had even written a cadence about him. In fact, ‘Do it for Johnny!’ was still the rallying cry and good luck chant the Line shouted before competitions to get pumped up. But this year, the collective energy had been on a series of ups and downs. The events with South Washington’s drummers earlier in the season weren’t an inside joke. True, it had brought the Line together, but it had done so in a very negative way. Lucy shook her head and snapped back to reality and said, “He’s right.”

  Heads turned towards her.

  She continued, “We’ve been practicing and we have all the notes, but deep down we’re missing something.”

  Jerm, who had removed his eye patch over the weekend and was now back to his regular self, asked, “And what do you think we should do about it?”

  “We need to bond.”

  The guys all groaned; this was not the answer they wanted.

  “How exactly are we going to accomplish that?” asked Jerm.

  Lucy had a flash of brilliance and said, “Well, there’s a Green Day concert on Thursday. I know some of you already have tickets, but maybe we should all go.”

  There was a murmur of agreement through the sections. Tom smiled at Lucy, and picked up her idea, “Think about it – how awesome would it be to hear our show live? Plus, if we all went together…”

  Jerm
challenged, “What if it’s sold out?”

  Tom shot back, “Come on, Jerm. We’re not talking about front row seats – we’re talking about the nosebleed section.”

  One of the freshman, Morty, spoke up, “My mom works for one of the radio stations. Maybe she can get us a deal.”

  Tom and Lucy looked at Jerm, challenging him to say anything but ‘yes.’

  Jerm sighed and said, “Fine. We’ll try and get tickets.”

  After they finished listening to the remainder of the tapes, and each section had a clearly defined set of things to work on for sectionals in the afternoon, Lucy and Molly walked to their next class together.

  The Pit section leader said, “Seriously brilliant suggestion, Luce.”

  “Thanks.” Lucy’s mouth quirked in a smile as she noted how much could change in a few weeks in her section. At the beginning of the month she had been persona non grata and now she was their heroine.

  “So, any news from Sam?”

  “You were there for the train wreck at the gym two days ago, right?”

  “I was.”

  “Well, the facts are out. He doesn’t want to forgive me or have anything to do with me. Even if he did, with all the history behind us, I don’t think it’s possible to get back to where we started. So, as painful as it is, I’m just going to have to let him go. Anyway, after next Saturday, there is no place I’m going to run into him. It will really be over.”

  “Tis better to have loved and lost?” Molly offered.

  “I’m not so sure,” Lucy replied glumly.

  By band practice on Thursday, word had circulated about the non-school sanctioned “field trip” the Forrest Hills drumline had planned. For whatever reason – genuine interest or curious fascination in the drama of the section – Lucy was glad to hear a lot more of the marching band members coming out to support their drumline this weekend and hoped they would be able to make their fellow classmates proud.