Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

13. It's Him Again

Danny

Mr. Arthur waves his hands around, and the choir stops.  "Okay, good.  Let's do that again, but this time a little more gently.  Right now, it sounds a little too plodding, let's get more of a sway in there, more soulful, a kind of- reeds bending in the breeze, kind of thing.  One, two!"

Rehearsal is almost over.  I'm sitting down in one of the front pews, waiting for the conductor to say I can go home and start my homework so Ms. Rydinger can't get mad at me again. I've been here for three and a half hours straight, including Sunday school and the late service, and I'm pretty bored.  My phone's battery is almost dead, so I can't see to play Tetris, and Mr. Arthur isn't as fun to watch from behind as he is from the front, thanks to all the funny conducting faces he makes.  Man, I wish I had my yo-yo.  This is why I wanted to bring it, but Mom wouldn't let me.

Mom sure was jumpy this morning.  I found her asleep on the couch when I woke up, but her bedroom door was closed just like last night, and still she wouldn't let me go in.  Maybe it's to do with the guy who's coming over.  When's he getting here anyway?  Is that who was in her room?  I'm confused.

She didn't even come to church with me, made me ride with Cousin Roxie again, and I had to listen to a lot of dumb country music all the way there- and it's a looooong drive.   Brooklyn Tab is all the way over in Brooklyn (duh), so it always takes forever to get there and back. Church is a whole day thing. Some of Roxie's music fun, I admit; I kinda like the "Two Pina Coladas" guy, but she was in a John Denver mood today, so I had to sit there and listen to my cousin sing "Take Me Home, Country Road" out of tune with him for a whole HOUR. 

Poor Roxie.  She likes music, but music doesn't like her.

I read the words of my solo to myself, then sing them softly.  "O Holy Night," I mumble, "the stars are brightly shi-ning..."

The Christmas show is next Sunday; we've just started using the microphones, and the idea of my voice ringing all over the place in this great big crowded sanctuary is scaring me even more than before.

I'm just glad we're not working on my song anymore today.  We sure worked on it a lot though, and my voice got weaker and more babyish every time.  The other kids who have solos sound way better, but then again, their songs are way easier too.  For crying out loud, the kid sitting next to me is singing "Away in a Manger," but they stuck me with "O Holy Night." 

Baka.

My hands are shaking at the thought, making the lyrics sheet in my hand rattle a little.  I mean, I like singing with my friends and with Mom, there's nothing I like better.  But ten thousand people go here every Sunday; and if I have to sing for all of them next week, with the whole choir behind me as the backup, I may not make it. That's too many eyes and ears.

Mr. Arthur puts his baton down and turns, looks at us soloist kids, realizes we've been waiting for him all this time.  Finally, he gives us the word, and away we go.  Parents are standing outside the sanctuary doors, waiting to collect each of us.  Hopefully Mom's not here yet, I still want my song to be a secret.

My phone buzzes that very minute.  Stifling a yawn, I squint at the little screen.  But the long text I read doesn't make a lot of sense:

"Danny we're just now parking we'll be in to collect you in a few minutes so are you just dictating the damn thing uh-huh how ridiculous why don't you just call him and be done with it unbelievable what do you mind oh sorry did that pick it up yes oh dear is it still doing it yes oh then I'll stop now sorry thank you oh wait no"

Mom dictates her texts sometimes, but I've never seen one like this- and with a bad word like that!  I cover my mouth and snicker.  She said "damn."  That's so bad.