by Krista McGee
Addy felt numb. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t remember walking through the jungle. She kept hearing the gunshots in her mind. She knew her parents weren’t coming, that the men from the other village had shot them. But she couldn’t feel anything. She just wanted to sleep.
But Uncle Mike kept crying and rocking. He refused to leave her side. He forced her to drink some juice and, later, to eat beans and rice. He didn’t ask her to talk. Not that day, not a few days later when they got onto the airplane.
Addy looked out the airplane window as everything she knew began to fade away, and then she cried. She unbuckled her seat belt and ran for the exit.
“I want to go home. I want Mommy and Daddy.” Addy didn’t care that the people on the plane were all looking at her. All she knew was that the plane was rolling away from everything she knew, and she wouldn’t allow it. “Take me home. Take me home.”
Mike grabbed Addy in his arms and cradled her like he would a tiny baby. He carried her back to her seat. Addy kicked and cried.
“No!” The tears were coming so fast she couldn’t even see. “Let me go. Take me home. I want my mommy!”
Flight attendants rushed over and demanded that Mike and Addy buckle up. The plane was taking off. Mike refused to let go of Addy. He sat in his seat, Addy still in his arms. She finally grew tired of fighting. The next thing she knew she was waking up, still in Mike’s lap, her face dry and sticky from her tears.
Uncle Mike had helped her as she adjusted to life in the United States, so different from life in her village in Colombia. He took her to a counselor so she could work through all she had experienced. He took her to a tutor so she could improve her English. Mike gave up his longtime career in the army to work as a policeman in Tampa so he could be near Addy more. A confirmed bachelor in his forties, Mike became father and mother in one tragic day.
Emotions she had thought were long-gone resurfaced: abandonment, anger, fear. But Kara’s words kept coming back to her. “They were good people, Addy.”
They were. As Addy ran, she saw her parents’ death through the eyes of a stranger. They were good people doing good things. They died a horrible but noble death. They died for what they believed in. For the people they loved. They died doing what God asked them to do. She was too scared to admit that to Kara. Not yet. But she needed to.
I need to stop thinking so much about myself. I’m acting like a whiny little toddler not getting her way. Why do I do that? All the time? Why can’t I just automatically do what’s right and think what’s right?
Addy pictured her uncle’s face and knew what he would say. She was here because God put her here, because he had a plan. For now, this was her village; these people were her tribe. Would she be like her parents, doing what was right no matter what, honoring God regardless of the consequences? She didn’t know why God would choose her of all people, nor did she know what she could do for him. But one thing she did know: God had her here, in this place, for such a time as this.
Chapter 12
Oh, sweetie. You know I love you. I’m your biggest fan and all that. You know that, right?” Kara stalled, pacing from Addy’s bed to her own. Addy already knew what she was going to say.
“It stinks. I stink.” Addy laughed. “I know. But you know what? I don’t care. This is the talent portion of the competition, and this is my talent.”
“But a kazoo?” Kara asked, her dark eyes wide. “Really?”
“You heard me sing; you saw me try to act. Dancing is most definitely out of the question. What other options do I have left? It is original. None of the other girls will be out there with a kazoo.”
“Yes, and I do appreciate the new, more positive outlook. But, Addy, you’re going to get ripped apart when you do this. Hank might come up on the stage and strangle you himself.”
Kara imitated Hank’s swagger and tried to impersonate his “angry brother” voice: “Addy Davidson. Is this a joke to you? A joke? Do you know how lucky you are to have gotten this far? How much money has been spent housing you and feeding you and making sure you are well cared for? You ungrateful, stupid beep-beep beep-beep beep-beep.” Kara winked. “Since this is a ‘squeaky clean’ show, I censored all the curse words.”
“Thanks,” Addy said, laughing.
“Seriously. Is this how you want to go out?” Kara sat on her bed.
“I’m not going to try to be something I’m not. This is who I am.”
“You are a kazoo player?” Kara crossed her arms.
“You know what I mean. I know what I can and cannot do. And one thing I cannot do is seriously compete with people as talented as you and the others here. It’s ridiculous to even try.”
Addy leaned forward, a huge grin splitting her face. “It’s a nice one, by the way, the kazoo. Not the dollar-store plastic kind. Metal. Shiny. See?” Addy held out her kazoo so Kara could admire it. “No, no. Don’t touch. I just tuned it.”
Kara rolled her eyes and sighed. “At least tell me you’re going to dress up.”
“I will. I have my appointment with the wardrobe people at one thirty, thank you very much.”
“Good for you. So what are you thinking? Shiny to match your kazoo, or white to show it off?”
“Like I’d tell you.” Addy laughed. “You, Kara McKormick, are the competition. I couldn’t trust you with something as important as that. My dress is my secret.” Addy managed to stick out her tongue right as Kara hurled a pillow at her face.
The rest of the week went by quickly. Boot camp in the morning followed by breakfast, schoolwork, photo shoots, and rehearsals. In between all that was “camera time” and one-on-one talks with Jonathon, though Addy hadn’t had her turn with the latter just yet. In some ways, she was dreading it. She had felt a load lift from her shoulders once she told Kara about her past. But that didn’t change the fact that she owed Jonathon an apology.
Oh, God, haven’t I learned enough lessons? Couldn’t I just send Jonathon a note? On my way to the airport?
But she would have to face Jonathon. And an audience. Ironically, both ended up happening on the same day. She was the last girl to sit down with Jonathon. She was sure Hank orchestrated that. Probably hoping they wouldn’t have enough time and she’d be bumped. Unfortunately for Hank, the morning went by smoothly and Addy sat in the staged meeting room inside The Mansion promptly at 10:00 a.m.
“Wait one minute.” Eric fixed the angle on a huge light so Addy was totally, not just partially, blinded. “Okay. Just go ahead and talk. Pretend we’re not here.”
Addy moaned. “I definitely have a greater respect for actors now. I don’t know how it’s possible to ‘act naturally’ when surrounded by a room full of people.”
Jonathon laughed, nodding. Their conversation was a little awkward, though not unpleasant. She was not about to apologize to him in front of the whole crew, but she was determined not to add to her list of offenses.
When their allotted time was over, Addy asked if she could speak with Jonathon privately. Because it was the last interview of the day, he said he had a few free minutes. So as the crew packed up their supplies, Jonathon led Addy to the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“What would you like to talk about, Addy?”
She hadn’t noticed before how pleasing his voice was. When they were being taped, she was focused on answering the questions without saying “um” too many times. But now, without all the distractions, she really heard him. His voice was deeper than most boys’, and so proper.
“I need to apologize to you for my behavior.”
He stood up straight. “No, don’t. Actually . . .”
“Jonathon, I need to do this.” Addy tried not to lose focus as she looked into his eyes. “I’ve been rude to you and you’ve done nothing to deserve it. I’m sure it’s no secret that I didn’t want to be on this show. But I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you. I shouldn’t have taken it out on anyone. I was acting like a child, and I am sorry for that.”
> He shook his head and smiled. She felt her toes tingle. “Thank you, Addy. I accept your apology.” He folded his arms. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” Addy looked into Jonathon’s eyes and felt her heart race.
“Why did you come, if you didn’t want to be on the show?”
“Because . . .” Addy took a deep breath. Because God wants me to be here? No way. I am not saying that. I can’t.
Jonathon’s eyes softened. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s just . . . I’m not used to attention. I don’t really want it. But my principal wanted me to come. I told him to pick someone else. I knew I would make a fool of myself here.”
He touched her arm and she felt an electric shock. “I think he made a great choice. You’re real. I like that. And you’re not making a fool out of yourself.”
Addy’s face felt like it was on fire. “Let’s see if you still think that after tonight.”
Anna Grace
BOL: Good morning, Anna.
ANNA GRACE: Actually, it’s Anna Grace.
BOL: Oh, excuse me, Anna Grace.
ANNA GRACE: I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I was named after my grandma and she passed away just last month (dabbing her eyes with a tissue). That name is special.
BOL: I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother. Would you like to postpone the interview?
ANNA GRACE: (Straightening up) Oh no. No. It’s just that I get sad when I think about her. But I know Grammy is up in heaven, looking down on me and smiling. I know she’s proud of me for being in this competition. And if there are TVs in heaven, she’s got everyone gathered ’round one, watching me right now.
BOL: Okay. Well . . . tell us how you were chosen to be part of the show.
ANNA GRACE: I was sitting in my homeroom class taking roll. I’m the class representative, so it’s my job to take roll and help the teachers however I can. As I was taking roll, the assistant principal, Mr. O’Neal, buzzed in and asked that I come to the office. I was a little nervous but I went. And as I was walking, I noticed several other girls going that way too—our class secretary, the head cheerleader, the president of the drama club. We were all talking on our way over, and we just couldn’t imagine what Mr. O’Neal could want from us. But then he sat us all down and told us about the show. Our little ol’ Alabama high school was chosen to participate in a reality TV show. We couldn’t believe it. Well, we were all so excited. I couldn’t believe I was even being considered. It was truly an honor. Well, Mr. O’Neal said he’d be talking to our parents and our teachers, trying to find out which one of us would be the best choice for the show. He told us it was a new kind of show, so it wasn’t just about being pretty or charming. The girl he chose would also have to be talented, smart, an all-around great girl. That’s what he said y’all were looking for. Well, I would never say I was all those things. But I guess the others thought I was because they chose me. And here I am.
BOL: Yes, here you are. That was quite an answer . . . Why don’t we just skip to the last question: Describe “The Perfect Boy.”
ANNA GRACE: The perfect boy? Well, he’s about six feet tall, has light brown hair, brown eyes, his father is a prominent politician, and he is currently looking for a prom date.
BOL: That was certainly specific. And do you think you are his perfect girl?
ANNA GRACE: Well now, I don’t know about that. But I certainly hope I’ll get the chance to let him find out.
BOL: And there you have it, folks, Miss Anna Grace Austen. Thank you very much.
Chapter 13
Anna Grace, you’ll be fine,” Addy said. “I heard you practicing earlier, and you are amazing. You sound like a professional.”
“Well, I have been taking voice since I was four,” Anna Grace said, fanning herself. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
Addy hugged her, surprising even herself at this display of emotion. “Don’t be nervous. If you sing even half as well as you did at practice, the audience will be blown away.”
Anna Grace smiled. “Thanks, Addy.”
“You’re next, Anna Grace.” Eric motioned for the young woman to stand in the wings.
She left and Eric walked over. “And how are you, Addy?”
“More nervous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
“Understandable. The latest numbers I’ve heard are twenty million viewers—”
“Not helping,” Addy said, hands over her ears.
“Picture everyone in their underwear?”
“Even worse.”
“Break a leg?”
Addy chuckled. “With my luck, I just may.”
Their banter was interrupted by the first angelic notes of Anna Grace’s song, and Addy glanced down at the kazoo in her hand. What in the world am I doing? Maybe she could fake an asthma attack. Or a heart attack. That would buy her more time. Maybe even send her home. Home . . . No cameras, no packages, no talent shows. God, I would give anything for this to be just one very long dream. I’m ready to wake up. Anytime now . . .
“All right, Addy. There’ll be a three-and-a-half-minute commercial break. Get in place and then Dan will give you the thumbs-up sign. Your music will start right after that. Got it?”
“If I say no, can I get out of it?”
Eric pushed Addy onstage, where she walked to the blue X. Downstage center was what Eric called it. She wasn’t allowed to move from that X.
Addy wasn’t sure she’d be able to move anything ever again. Thousands of faces looked at her, cameras were hugging the stage. Behind those cameras, millions of people were sitting at home watching her. She had never been so terrified in her life.
“The next contestant tonight is Miss Addy Davidson,” Hank said from his post at stage left. The audience erupted in applause and the stage lit up around her.
God, help! Addy took a deep breath and lifted the kazoo to her lips. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was in the trailer with Kara, just practicing, as she had the last few nights.
Kara had helped Addy find background music suitable to accompany her kazoo. The two decided a patriotic piece would be best, and Kara insisted on “The Star-Spangled Banner” and taught Addy how to hum “runs”—a series of notes like the pop stars sing—to be included at the end. On “Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave,” Addy hummed her heart out, putting her whole body into the effort, just like Kara had shown her.
The audience began laughing and clapping.
They actually like it. Thank you, Coach Kara.
By the time Addy hit the last line, “O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave,” the audience in the Nashville theater was on its feet.
As she took her bow, Addy looked down and saw Jonathon on the front row, a big smile on his face and a thumbs-up in her direction. She stood and stared at him for a moment, taking in his double-breasted tuxedo and brilliant smile.
“Pssst.” Eric waved from offstage. “Let’s go, Addy.”
She tore her gaze away from Jonathon and walked back to a squealing, clapping Kara waiting in the wings.
Hank walked over and pulled her aside. “Not bad, Addy. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
She blinked. Is he actually complimenting me?
“So, are you ready to play by my rules now? I’m still willing to give you a shot.”
Addy stepped back. “Your rules?”
“Don’t act innocent. Your parents can give me a call and we can work something out. Here’s my number.” He held out a card.
“Thanks, Hank, but I don’t think so.” Addy refused to take the card.
He put the card in his back pocket and scowled. “I hope you enjoyed this week, then. Because it will be the last one you have here.”
Addy tried to speak, but Hank cut her off. “No, no, Miss Addy. You’ve made your choice.”
Addy woke up the next morning to Kara’s screams.
“Addy, Addy. You are never going
to believe this.” Kara jumped up and down and clapped.
“What in the world . . . ?” Addy croaked, rubbing her eyes.
Kara hopped over to Addy’s bed and deposited her laptop on Addy’s lap. “Read.”
“More blogs?” Addy groaned. “I don’t want to know. I’m sure I already know: ‘Addy Davidson is the biggest idiot in America,’ right?”
“Wrong,” Kara sang in her best opera voice. “Read, Addy. Read.” Kara was still jumping up and down.
“Fine.” The headline read “America’s Sweetheart.” Addy looked at Kara. “What?”
“Keep going, sweetheart.” Kara grinned.
“‘Thumbing her nose at the other twenty-nine contestants, Addy Davidson triumphed with a rousing kazoo solo in last night’s Book of Love.’”
“Honestly, Addy, if I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a genius.”
She pushed Kara off her bed. “Thanks, roomie.”
“Seriously. I know you weren’t using any strategy, but everyone else thinks you are, and brilliantly. Well played, my friend. You’re a shoo-in for the Top Twenty-Five. I wish I could see Hank’s face right now.”
“There was no strategy,” Addy said. “I just don’t have talent.”
“I know. Well, I mean, no offense, but . . .”
“None taken. I am aware of my inabilities.”
“America loves that you don’t have talent. Look.” Kara grabbed the laptop and clicked to an entertainment website. “‘Addy Davidson, Our Hero.’”
Addy frowned. “I don’t understand. I play a kazoo and I’m a hero?”
Kara shut her computer and looked at Addy. “Pretty much. You see, the rest of us were acting like this was Miss America or America’s Next Star. And I’m not gonna lie, we were all pretty amazing. It was like putting twenty-nine Picassos onstage with my little niece’s drawing of Barney. Picasso may be great, but Barney stands out. It’s cute, original, and endearing.”
“So you’re Picasso and I’m Barney. Is that what you’re saying?” Addy asked with a crooked smile.
