To Outwit an Angel

1. September 1st, 2003

Sharlene's POV:

I always looked awful in red. I had wanted to wear the blue and white dress, especially since the vivid, flashy red and white would never complement my soft features like the blue did. But Loretta fought tooth and nail to wear the blue dress, and really, I understood. She would have taken my head on a platter if I insisted that she, the tried-and-true ginger, be stuck in the red.

 None of it mattered anyhow. Amongst a packed crowd, with late summer's heat beating upon my forehead and nerves akin to stage fright fizzing inside me, nothing but the upcoming performance mattered. My best friend and I had been practicing since the New Year for this, and after many "rehearsals" on Loretta's dilapidated backyard swings, we had arrived.

 We stood on the steps of the courthouse on main street, waiting for the mayor—the actual mayor!—to introduce us.

 "And now, as we close out our parade, let me present Catlettsburg Kentucky's upcoming starlets, Sharlene Murphy and Loretta Clark, who will be singing the national anthem!"

 Starlets? Now, the mayor couldn't possibly mean that, but I reveled in it still. Lori and I stepped to the front of the makeshift stage, which had been erected in front of the courthouse. Lori slipped her damp hand into mine. It was the heat making us sweat. Then, why were we shaking like leaves? No, not nerves. Of course not.

 On the booming speakers beside the cheap stage, the national anthem's instrumental blared over the crowd, hushing each person.

 On cue, I sang the first words of "The Star-Spangled Banner". My voice was not my own, and my head spun with stage fright and excitement all at once. Only in America could you mingle colorful explosives, grilled meat sticks of questionable origin, and a janky small-town parade and call it American pride. And, for a fleeting moment, I relished every second of it. Forget my dreams of stardom and leaving Catlettsburg in the dust. For now, this was home.

 The last strains of patriotic music faded into the respectfully silent crowd. Lori's voice died first, but I extended that final note just a little longer. My voice had improved since last year, and I could tell. The stability, the rich timbre itself, was far better.

 Finally, stretching my hands to the crowd, my breath gave out and, as gracefully as I could, I let my voice fade into quiet.

 Thunderous applause. All for me. For Lori too, of course. But I imagined it was only mine. All mine. The stage would be my home one day, but for now, I resigned myself to little tastes of that thrill.

 Lori grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and reminded me of our bow. I lowered into a wobbly curtsy, and we disappeared inside the delightfully cool courthouse.

 Inside, Lori and I collapsed into a bundle of arms and legs, hugging each other.

 "You were incredible!" Lori cried.

 "You were too!" I said, wrapping her into another hug. "We both were."

 "Oh no," Lori laughed, "I've never been more terrified in my life, but you... you just shined out there."

 I was in a fair state to shine after her glowing praise, and even if I wished to, I couldn't wipe the grin from my face.

 My most wheedling tone infused my next words.

 "So... you'll audition with me next year, then?" I asked.

 Our high school had held auditions for this moment around July, and it was still hard to believe that Lori and I had been the lucky chosen ones. Not that many auditioned, but the choice still had to mean something.