Tara's Triumph

by Cindy Jeffries

  The practice space was very popular, but everyone was really looking forward to the real stage arriving. Meanwhile, all the students were very busy, but Tara was exhausted. Not only was she going to her ordinary classes, and trying to find time to rehearse her song with Danny and the others, but the organization of the charity concert was taking every other spare waking minute.

  She was the one everyone went to when they wanted questions to be answered, and if Tara didn’t have the answer she had to find it. She had organized the art department to make flyers, and had been given permission by Mrs. Sharkey for them to be mailed to all the parents. She had even gotten the name and address of Tikki Deacon’s agent from Pop and Lolly so she could invite Tikki to the concert.

  “I know she won’t come,” Tara told Pop as she sealed the envelope and put it in her bag to mail later, “but I might as well invite her.”

  Pop giggled. “You have such nerve, Tara. I don’t know how you do it.”

  Tara lay back on the grass, snatching a few precious moments of relaxation in the sun.

  “You never know,” said Lolly thoughtfully. “Tikki might show up. After all, it’s her pet charity.”

  Pop shook her head. “She’s abroad so much,” she reminded her sister. “She probably won’t even get the invitation in time.”

  Tara shrugged. “Like my parents,” she said gruffly. “Their flyer will probably still be in the envelope when I go home for summer vacation.”

  Chloe looked shocked. “I admire you, Tara,” she said. “I’d be so upset if my parents didn’t show up. And you’ve done so much for this event. It’s just not fair.”

  “Well, we all appreciate it,” Lolly told Tara. “And Nangila and his friends will, too. That’s what matters.”

  Tara didn’t reply. She was trying very hard not to think about her parents too much. She had called her dad a few days earlier, but he’d been sort of noncommittal about whether he’d be able to make it to the concert. Well, Tara wouldn’t beg. But this was her project, and everyone else’s families were coming. In the middle of so much excitement, Tara was feeling very let down.

  “What’s going on?” demanded Pop, staring hard across the grass.

  Several large trucks had pulled up outside the main house and one of the drivers was getting out.

  “I think it must be the stage,” replied Tara, getting up and heading toward the trucks. She was right. Dave Fallon arrived to give the driver directions and all the trucks drove slowly around to the back field and started to unload. There seemed to be thousands of scaffolding poles, plus yards and yards of colorful fabric.

  “How are they ever going to make that into a stage?” asked Chloe, staring in confusion as piles of equipment were unloaded onto the grass.

  It took a while, but by the end of the day there was a recognizable platform, and by the afternoon of the second day the huge canopy was up, protecting the stage from any threat of rain. Now swarms of men were setting up the lighting and the sound systems. Cables and equipment were everywhere.

  With all the excitement, it was hard to concentrate on normal classes. But in art one afternoon there was a treat in store for Tara and her friends.

  “I thought you might like to see the CD inserts we’ve had printed,” the art teacher said. “And the CD cases have arrived. If you like, you can put some inserts in the cases today.”

  Tara felt really choked up as she put the first insert into a plastic CD case. The art department had done a great job. On the front, Nangila looked out with his lonely, frightened eyes. He’d been given a colorful background of reds and yellows, suggesting the heat of Africa. Singing for Nangila was printed along the bottom in black lettering. On the inside, Tara had written a bit about the charity and the school, with help from Pop and Lolly.

  Judge Jim had advised Tara about acknowledgments, and so Tara had made sure there was space on the back for thanking Mrs. Sharkey, Mr. Timms, Mr. Boyd and his newspaper, and everyone else who was involved. She turned the CD case over to read it and got a big surprise. Right at the bottom, in tiny letters, it said: Special thanks to Tara Fitzgerald, without whom this CD would never have happened. Tara’s face glowed.

  Pop was grinning at her. “We asked the art department to put that on after you’d seen the proofs,” she told her triumphantly. “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “But the CD hasn’t really happened yet,” Tara reminded her.

  Pop and Lolly both laughed. “There have been some ups and downs,” Lolly said. “But nothing is going to stop it now. Look, even Mrs. Sharkey has added a note.”

  I am pleased to launch our new relationship with Nangila’s school by endorsing this live CD of the midterm concert held at Rockley Park School, Tara read. She felt very humble. Her hopes and dreams were actually going to come true.

  The stage was out-of-bounds to students until the technicians had finished their work, but in spite of that, the following evening Tara was asked to meet Judge Jim there. As she went into the field and got close to the stage for the first time, she could see just how big the structure was. She felt dwarfed by it. As she looked, a bank of lights came on in the shade of the canopy. They changed from red to blue to white and orange. Then they went off again. The technicians were still busy. Out in front of the stage another bank of spotlights was fixed to a scaffolding tower. Inside the tower at ground level was Mr. Timms’s equipment, a miniversion of his mixing desk in the recording studio, connected to all the onstage amps and microphones. He would be in charge of all the sound on the day, as well as recording the concert for Tara’s CD.

  The grass had been crushed by all the activity, and was now turning pale yellow. It smelled warmly of hay. Around the back of the stage there were cables everywhere, and a generator was running. Tara found some steps and climbed up to the backstage area.

  Judge Jim was there, talking to one of the technicians. “What do you think?” he asked Tara with a smile. “Go on, see how it feels.”

  Tara walked out onto the stage, and stopped. She had been on stages before, but this was different. She could feel the breeze on her face, and hear a car passing on the road and the noise of the generator below. And the space in front of her seemed to go on forever, with the dusk blurring the edges of the field. It was totally different from being on a stage indoors. And this stage was so high. It was going to be hard to feel in charge up here, in spite of Judge Jim’s marked-out practice rectangle. She was happy that she would be playing in a band, not singing on her own.

  “None of this would have happened without you,” Judge Jim told her quietly. “You’ve done really well, Tara. You should be proud of yourself.”

  Tara felt more awestruck than proud. What had started out as a big idea had grown into a real event, and it had been emotionally and physically exhausting getting there.

  Judge Jim left her alone with her thoughts for a moment while he went backstage. When he came back he was carrying something. “Thought you might want this,” he said. “I brought it over for you.” Tara turned and saw that he held her beloved Rickenbacker bass. “How about tryin’ the sound?” he suggested.

  Tara’s face lit up.

  Judge Jim showed her which amp to plug into and then picked up his own, battered old guitar.

  There was a sort of magic in the air. After all the hard work, Tara was more tired than she had ever been before, but with the Rickenbacker in her hands she felt new energy flooding through her. She was onstage with the legendary Judge Jim Henson and anything was possible. He nodded at her encouragingly and she started the intro to her song.

  There were no drums or rhythm guitar and the sound was thin, with no microphones to boost their voices, but Tara soon lost herself in the emotion of the song. Halfway through, the lights came on again, bathing them both in red and blue tones. Tara almost lost her place, but as the beams cut through the dusk and flooded them with color she recovered, and as the final notes of their duet died away she turned to Judge Jim, her heart full and her eyes gl
istening with tears. Now, at this moment, it seemed entirely possible that she might make the money she wanted for Nangila after all.

  “Thought you might like to be the first to play up here,” Judge Jim told her gently when she thanked

  12. Lonely Eyes

  him. “Go on, then,” he added. “I’ll take your bass back. You get on back to your dorm. I think you could benefit from an early night. It’s goin’ to be another long day tomorrow.”

  After another couple of frantic days putting the final touches in place, the concert date finally arrived. By the middle of the afternoon, the field was filling up. Lots of people had brought picnics. Blankets, chairs, and picnic tables were dotted around everywhere as the large crowd settled down to enjoy themselves.

  But there was no relaxation for Tara, and after she’d gotten everyone through their sound checks, her voice was beginning to sound rather hoarse.

  “It’s all the bossing around you’ve done,” Ben told her.

  “But I had to,” Tara objected. “Otherwise we’d still be sound-checking now!”

  “I know,” Danny said soothingly. “But you don’t need to talk anymore. Would a cough drop help?”

  “No!” said Chloe. “That isn’t what you should do. Mr. Player always says it’s best to rest your voice as much as possible, and drink honey, lemon, and ginger.”

  “I’ll go and get you some from the sickbay,” Pop offered. “Sister O’Flannery is really good at making it.”

  “Keep your throat warm, too,” advised Lolly. “Here, take this.” She unwound a long silk scarf from her neck and arranged it around Tara’s. “Don’t say anything!” she added as Tara was about to thank her. “Save your voice for later.”

  Hanging around between the sound check in the morning and the beginning of the concert that afternoon was the hardest part. “Don’t start thinking about rain,” Tara begged Danny, when he told her a large black cloud was approaching. “You’ll give everyone the jitters.”

  “Stop talking,” begged Ben. “We’re going to need your voice later.”

  Thankfully, the day stayed sunny, even though the breeze was a little chilly.

  As the time for the concert approached, the audience packed away their picnics and moved closer to the stage. Then the lights came on, and Mrs. Sharkey appeared onstage to welcome everyone.

  Tara hardly listened to the short speech. She was too busy making sure the performers were all in place and ready to play their parts.

  As soon as Mrs. Sharkey came off, Judge Jim went on to announce the first act. He was greeted with enthusiastic applause.

  “Go ahead,” Tara said quietly to Charlie Owen and his band, who were waiting for their cue. She gave them a shove and they ran out onto the stage to a rousing cheer.

  “The audience is determined to enjoy itself,” Judge Jim told her as he joined Tara at the side of the stage. “It’s the best sort of audience you could possibly have. They’d cheer a cabbage if you put one on!”

  That made Tara laugh, and most of her anxiety about the concert melted away.

  One by one, the performers gave their best. Chloe’s awesome voice stilled the crowd, and Pop and Lolly got a huge reception because they were so famous. The staff band Judge Jim had put together was a real treat for the students, and Mr. Fallon’s excellent performance got a resounding cheer. From the staff to the students, the newspaper people, and the audience, everyone was entering into the spirit of the day. The people here at Rockley Park, Tara told herself, were the only family she needed.

  There were also Rising Stars points to be earned. All the students knew the teachers were watching every move and assessing every note. The novelty of the open-air stage brought extra excitement to the event, and the huge audience was lifting the students to even greater efforts.

  Tara was glad she wasn’t competing for Rising Stars points. She would simply play her song as best she could, and not worry about it too much. It was more important for her to keep the concert going without a hitch.

  All too soon the finale was drawing near. Danny, Ed, and Ben were waiting with Tara as Judge Jim went out to introduce the final act. Tara took a last sip of water, Ben handed her the Rickenbacker bass, and then they were on!

  They were picked out in the glow of blue and green spotlights, and now that she was onstage Tara realized she did care about her performance after all.

  After the crowd had clapped them on, it fell quiet. Tara didn’t know what Judge Jim had said when he introduced them—she had been too wound up to listen—but it must have been something serious about their special song.

  She glanced at her band. Danny was all set behind his drum kit, and Ed and Ben were plugged in and ready to go. Tara gave them a nod, and walked right out to the front of the stage, a small, determined figure. Then she began to play.

  The sonorous tones of her Rickenbacker rang out over the crowd. She played the intro a little faster than they’d rehearsed it, with her head hung low over the frets. Nervousness was speeding her fingers, but it sounded good, and her band was right with her. Her voice hadn’t quite gone, but it was cracking as she brought her head up to sing the first verse, and Ed came over and joined her at the microphone to help her get the words out. They were rocking hard and fast, the melody ripping along to Danny’s heavy beat.

  Then Tara and Ed stepped back as Ben took over, the high wail of his guitar changing the mood.

  Tara was grateful when Ed joined her at the microphone again for the second verse. She was belting out the words, but hardly anything was left of her voice. Ben played the middle eight bars as a solo, and then Ed and Tara came in again to repeat the hook and sing the last verse. All the while, Danny was keeping them in time, his thumping beat pushing the music on.

  Then it was over, and they bowed together, soaking up the applause. Tara looked around for Judge Jim, and after a moment he came and joined them. The crowd was already calling for more from Tara’s band, but he held up his arms and managed to calm them down.

  “I just want to say a couple of things,” he said into Tara’s microphone, adjusting it upward as he did so. “None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for this young lady here. So let’s hear it for Tara Fitzgerald!” The crowd roared, louder than it had all through the concert, and Judge Jim grinned at her. “Do you want to say something?” he asked quietly.

  Tara shook her head. “I’ve lost my voice,” she croaked, holding the scarf to her throat. It was true. Her voice had finally given out.

  “She’s lost her voice, unfortunately,” Judge Jim told the crowd. There was some laughter, and then the crowd burst into applause again. “Well, I’m sure Tara would thank you all for coming, if she could speak,” the Head of Rock confirmed. “And for supportin’ her wonderful effort at raisin’ money for the orphaned children of Africa.” There was thunderous applause again, and Judge Jim had to wait until it subsided.

  “In a moment,” he said, “we’re goin’ to get everyone onstage to sing ‘Lonely Eyes’ again, but before we do, I think we have somethin’. . .” He looked to the side of the stage, and on came Mr. Boyd with a huge bouquet of flowers. He gave them to Tara and waved at the crowd before walking off.

  “We’re most grateful to our sponsors,” Judge Jim added. “Without the Daily News, this would have been impossible to stage. Now, we don’t want those lovely flowers squashed when everyone comes up here. D’you want to put them somewhere safe, Tara? No ...” he added as she made to go backstage. “Take them off to the right. Someone can take them from you . . .”

  Tara looked to where he was pointing, but the lights were in her eyes and she couldn’t see much. Judge Jim was talking to the audience again as Tara carried her bouquet to the side of the stage. The perfume was wonderful in the dusk. Tara couldn’t stop looking at the flowers. She buried her face in the cool petals for a moment, drinking in the scent. It reminded her of some of the wonderful flowers she’d seen in Africa, and that made her think of Nangila. She’d never met him, but she
’d thought about him so often she felt she knew him. Well, his concert was almost over, and it had been a real success. Maybe there would be enough money to make a difference in his life.

  As she came offstage, a couple of people held out their hands. Tara went to put the bouquet into them, and then stopped. For a moment, her heart faltered. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  It was Mom . . . and Dad. They were smiling at her, and her mom had tears in her eyes.

  “We’re so proud of you,” said Tara’s mom, putting the flowers down and giving her daughter a huge hug.

  “What an amazing song!” said her dad, hugging her, too. “We managed to rearrange our schedules and decided to surprise you. I’m so glad we did. We’re so, so proud of you!”

  Maybe it was just as well that Tara had lost her voice. She couldn’t have spoken even if she’d wanted to, she was so choked up.

  “Hurry. You’re needed back onstage,” said Pop, who’d been sent to find Tara.

  “Oh yes!” said Tara’s dad. “They’re going to do your song again with all the performers. They can’t do it without you!”

  “Come with me,” Tara begged. But they couldn’t hear her whispered words. “Please,” she mouthed, tugging at their hands. Then Tara mimed the saxophone and her mom laughed.

  “You know him,” she said. “He never goes anywhere without it. Anyway, Judge Jim told him to be sure to bring it today, just in case.”

  Tara gave her dad a push. “Go and get it,” she whispered. “Play with me please. You never, ever have.”

  “All right,” he agreed, understanding at last. “If you’re sure. It’s your day.”

  The stage was getting crowded. And they were all waiting for Tara. As she appeared with her parents, Chloe began to clap. The rest of the students joined in, and as Tara came farther onstage, everyone, performers and audience alike, applauded.