My Side of the Field

Critical Situation

"Come on! I'm going to chop of your legs if you don't run it back!" Margret screamed. Everyone ran back to their set and stood in minus. It was the fifth time we had done this set and still no progress. We all looked at our band director, waiting to see what she would say. Her face showed anger and disappointment.

"Now, let's try this again and hope that the trumpets can do this correctly." she said softly, the anger in her voice audible. "Set!" she yelled. It was as if she worked magic. She turned the metronome on, and after the first 8 clicks happened, we were off. Surprisingly, the set finally happened. We stood there until she said to relax.

"YES! Now that's what I want!" she yelled into the microphone enthusiastically. Everyone cheered. I smiled. I rolled up my sleeves and took a quick sip of water. We walked back to the set we were just in. It was almost time to leave when another one of the percussionists came up to me.

"I can't wait 'till we're done with this. Salvador is going to be in such a better mood." the percussionist, John was his name, said. I chuckled.

"She'll be less uptight." I said as I was adjusting my snare drum. "Maybe she might just allow me to get that solo. I've been working on it."

John smiled. "I know, but after all that's happened... maybe you should let things ease out a bit first." he wiggled in his snare drum a little.

"Yeah, I guess. But, I'm still trying to fix all that has happened, and re-gain her trust back." I said, looking at the ground. John wiggled in his harness again.

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's a little loose. I have to ask Salvador if she can do something about it before state. Wouldn't want this messing up our drum break."

I smiled.

"No we wouldn't. We have enough messing up in the line as is."

John nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

It was eight in the afternoon and the sun was already setting. It was a gorgeous scene, the last one I would be seeing until state.

"This is it you guys." Mrs. Salvador said as she skimmed across the band. "Saturday is what we've worked for all year long. This season is almost at its end. We're going to go there and we're going to kick their butts. We are going to prove to them who we really are!"

Everyone got quite as we watched her every move.

"This is our year to win the state championship. We are going to be more than just 'a band', more than 'the Raisenville band'. We're going to be 'legendary Raisenville band'." She said with great enthusiasm.

Cheers rang across the practice field.

"Raisenville! Raisenville!" Everyone yelled. I suddenly joined in the chant.

Our director was about to dismiss us when someone came running up to her. I recognized who it was; she was my ex-best friend's girlfriend, who also happened to be in band but got out. She was crying like crazy. We all looked at her.

"Lindsey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Mrs. Salvador asked, as she attempted to comfort Lindsey.

"Mrs. Salvador... it's... Gerson... he's..." she started crying furiously again. Mrs. Salvador just looked at her.

"Lindsey, what's wrong with Gerson?" The panic was visible in Mrs. Salvador's eyes.

"Gerson's in the hospital. He's received a gunshot wound, he's at the hospital and he's dying! He's been asking for all the directors and Darla. He's in critical condition. It's real serious Mrs. Salvador." Lindsey looked like she was going to panic from how much she was crying. Everyone gasped at the news, mumbles arising as Mrs. Salvador turned pale. The rest of the directors showed up to see what was going on.

"What's all the commotion?" the other assistant director said. He realized something was wrong as he looked at Mrs. Salvador's face. "Salvador, what's wrong?"

She just stood there, her face pale.

"Gerson's been shot."

"What?" the assistant director said. "That's not possible. I just saw him today. That's not right."

"That's what Lindsey just informed me of... He wants to see all three of us along with Darla. He's in critical condition right now." Mrs. Salvador said. The assistant band director's face went blank along with the head band director's as well.

"This can't be. It can't. It's a lie; Lindsey, say it's a lie. We can't lose him, he's what's kept us together." The head band director said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Smith... It's true..." Lindsey said as she tried to calm down, but it was an unsuccessful attempt.

Everyone was in disbelief. Mrs. Salvador was in tears, something that had never been seen by anyone. Ever. Mr. Smith's face was pale and emotionless. There were a few people in the band who had overheard and started crying. I felt light-headed and my breathing became heavy.

The weekend before state, we were about to lose our best marcher. He was all that was keeping the band together from ripping each other into shreds, and he's dying.