A Taste of Candor

Chapter 10

~Declan.

Overall, I found myself enjoying the process of integrating into the Paige's band. It had its challenges, to be sure, especially keeping up with their lineup of top-notch players and reading the demanding music, but every time I pulled my horn out to play with those folks, I felt exhilarated. Though my technique didn't match up to most of the veterans I shared the bandstand with, they seemed to appreciate my unique touch supporting their own.

Thankfully, I got along well with my companions in the saxophone section, comprised of two altos, three tenors including myself, and a baritone. Mr. Quill was by far the least sociable in the group, but still friendly enough when he did come around. The two I found myself most friendly with were Larry Arnold, one of my fellow tenors, and Pete Crisp, the baritone player. Larry's sense of humor was his winning trait, while the main draw to Pete was the endless supply of stories he had to share from his 40 years on the bandstand.

Given I spent most of my time in smaller rehearsals with just the saxophone section, I hadn't seen the other band members too many times, but a few of them quickly made me feel welcome as well. One was our drummer, who everyone called Chip. He seemed to spend every moment the drumsticks weren't in his hands to gobble some snack, but yet he also threw so much energy into his drumming that his constant eating didn't fatten him.

There was also the leader of the trumpet section, who we called Wheezy because of his laugh. He kept morale high with his positive attitude and tendency to give compliments through the gap between his front teeth.

And then lastly, I made friends with our pianist, whose name was Madden. Being a fellow Candorian with a quiet disposition and a tendency for lyrical playing, I found we related to each other quite well. Given his striking looks, with chocolate brown hair to contrast his light skin, charming green eyes, and an understated grin, I wasn't surprised to hear he was popular with the Lymar ladies of Silverport.

Needless to say, when I strolled up to the front porch of the Paige mansion one chilly morning with my saxophone case in hand, I felt excited. Today would be a full band rehearsal, which was always a treat. The interplay of so many musicians all working together exhilarated both us as players and anyone listening.

One of the Paiges' servants came to the door when I rang the doorbell, and then he escorted me downstairs to the auditorium for the rehearsal. I thanked him and went on my way.

I first encountered Chip, who sat on the stage's steps and devoured two sandwiches at once—one on top of the other. He glanced up with a brief smile and mumbled a "good morning" around his food, which I returned with a laugh. I passed him on the stairs and continued on to the seats for the saxophone section.

When I sat down, Pete was already in the middle of telling Mr. Quill and Larry some story of a time long gone when he played alto with a frail tone and got kicked off the stage for his hilarious lack of talent. His eyes moistened with hysterical tears as he laughed, apparently at the next part of the story he hadn't yet told.

"Now, get this, guys," Pete said, "Fella booted me off the stage, literally. But I had the audacity ... to turn around and jog back up those steps again!"

I burst into laughter, as did Larry. Mr. Quill also chuckled, but with much less enthusiasm.

"You didn't know when to quit, did you?" Larry asked mirthfully.

"Not at all. Back then, I was young and foolish. Come to think of it, nothing's changed but age."

We shared another round of laughter before shifting to different tasks. Pete rifled through the pages of his music book, I reached down to unpack my horn, Larry warmed up his own instrument, and Mr. Quill rose to greet his fellow alto player who had just arrived. Again, being in the lively environment that was the Paige band was a treat, and one I wasn't failing to appreciate.