Bay City Runaway

Chapter 10

(1995)

It was the first day of my senior fall semester at the University of Oklahoma. I had broken up with Stacey. She had gone back to Lawrence, Kansas for college, and I didn't feel like having a long-distance relationship. Letters were not what I had wanted from her.

The heat and humidity of the Oklahoma summer were still lying thick over the campus as I walked from my Monday 8:30 Database Design class to the Catlett Music Center. I had auditioned in the summer and had been placed in the bass section, although I could have been as equally comfortable in the tenor section. Not only had my voice preserved well through several years of not singing, but its range had also grown significantly.

Dr. Baker was bustling about, straightening chairs and organizing his music stand. He was an African-American of around fifty with short salt and pepper hair.

He gestured to me then to the chairs and said, "Basses on the back two rows on the right."

He had been amiable in the audition and seemed to be impressed with my singing, given that I was not a music major, but he was all business now. He said many of his best singers were engineers and computer guys. The choir, Dr. Baker had explained, was primarily for music majors, but he wanted the best singers at OU, and they weren't always music majors. For that, I was grateful.

As the other singers began to stream in, I started to feel as if I would have to prove myself worthy of singing with majors. I was not an accomplished singer. My talent was modest, certainly not good enough to major in it, but I felt confident that I was up to the task.

"As you come in," he said addressing the rehearsal hall, "I would ask that you find your name on the cabinet and grab your music folder and take a seat. Sopranos here, altos here, tenors here, and basses here," he said, pointing to the risers.

"Hi," said a guy who was sitting down next to me. "First time?"

"Yeah, not in a choir, but in this choir. I used to sing in high school," I said.

He extended his hand. "I'm Zach, by the way. Where did you go to high school?"

He was a very dark-skinned African American, hair trimmed very short with sharp lines. He had a lean, muscular look and a deep voice.

"Oh, right here in Norman," I said.

"Cool. Baritone or bass?" he asked, flipping through his folder.

"Baritone. I sometimes sing tenor if people need me to, but Baker wanted me on bass, so that's cool. It makes no difference to me. Where did you come from?"

"Ada," he said.

"Cool. Yeah, my high school choir went to a contest down there at ECU. I kind of liked it, but OU has an outstanding computer science department, and I live here already, so..."

But then there she was. Laura had grabbed a folder and was heading to her seat. My heart raced. Of course, she would be in Choir; she had told me she would be finishing up her voice degree here.

"Damn. She's fine," said Zach, watching Laura take a seat.

"Yeah, well, she used to be my girlfriend."

"No shit. Not anymore?"

"I guess not."

"She either is, or she isn't."

"Well, we sort of have this off again on again thing. Just right now, we're off again."

"Ok, cool."

"Alright, alright. Can I have your attention, please?" called Dr. Baker with both hands raised. "This is University Choir in case you're not sure where you are or are in the wrong class. Congratulations to our newest members. We have some great talent coming in this year, and I'm sure you'll enjoy getting to know them."