Mayhem's Beginning (Everybody Changes)

Chapter 15: A Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

It is very hard to put into words what I felt the next morning. Let's just say I was jittery all night, and I did not get a single moment of sleep. I had tried looking up Dr. Soran on the internet, nothing. There was also limited information on the MEP and MCP, so I decided I was going to take a walk to the library after school.

In the meantime Bradley and Adam forced me to attend class although I said I wasn't feeling well. The irritation on my wrist had gotten worse, and every time I lay a shirt over it the cotton did not feel pleasant against such a bump. I stole a bandage out of our First Aid Kit just big enough to fit over it, lessening the friction of shirt against irritation.

The band room was the first that I saw in the mornings, for I had Select Band (also known as Jazz Ensemble, or Jazz Band) for period one. It was a pretty simple class other than be expected to perfect every single note. Sometimes I felt that Mrs. Clawstrike expected too much out of me, then again, I did have first chair saxophone.

She seemed extra excited to see me this morning. It was quite odd. There she sat on one of the chairs on a riser, reading an issue of Down Beat. “Good morning, Andrew!” She greeted me as I walked over to my locker to place the saxophone case inside.

“Good morning.” I replied, not thinking much of it. I made my way towards the door to leave, but was told to come back. Dumbfounded, I made my way back to Mrs. Clawstrike and awkwardly sat down next to her.

“I bet you're a bit confused right now.” She sounded cheerful.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Take this remote.” She handed me a plastic rectangle with numerous buttons on it's face. “Press the power button.” I did as she said. A television that was set up at the front of the room lit to life as a I noticed a video camera plugged into a DVD player. “I had been recording the whole band room since two weeks ago because I noticed several pieces of equipment missing. I have to say what I had caught on tape was quite impressive.”

I stared wide eyed at what was on the screen. There I was, playing guitar and the saxophone. Just jamming away without a care thinking that no one was ever going to see. The tape had went on for several minutes as Mrs. Clawstrike smiled at the screen, a grin that went from ear to ear.

“And you're showing this to me because?” I asked.

“Well, I am just wanting you to know...” Mrs. Clawstrike lowered her magazine as a glance revealed she was reading an article about Juilliard Jazz. “...that I know a few people.”

“Yeah, I know a few people too. You're one of them.”

“I'm being serious. What's that college you're always talking about again?”

“Juilliard?”

“I bet you didn't know I am quite good friends with their jazz director.”

“No...” my face went pale. I liked where this was going. “...I didn't know.”

“I sent this video to them. And well one of their saxophone players has just gotten jaw surgery and they have an open chair. Mr. Bon was wondering if--”

“Yes!” I cut her off before she even finished her sentence. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I didn't even have to think twice about it. This was a dream come true, an opportunity that I could not pass up. Mrs. Clawstrike started laughing about my overly excited state. I leaped up off my seat and threw my arms around her. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I repeated over and over.

“Okay, please, no hugs.” She backed away from me a bit. I didn't care if I had just made her uncomfortable. I had a temporary spot at Juilliard Jazz and nothing else mattered at the moment. “Mr. Bon said he wanted you to go on Wednesday, does that sound good?”

“It sounds superb! Thank you!” I bolted out of the band room to enter the choir room. “Mrs. Phillip? Hello?” I unintentionally yelled when I got inside. “Did you hear?”

“With the volume you're talking at, I'm sure all of Manhattan has heard by now.” She walked out of her office and flashed me a smirk. “Congrats, Andrew. I'm sure you will do just fine with Juilliard Jazz. Who knows? Maybe they might like you and you'll have a better chance of actually attending after you graduate.” I hadn't thought about that.

“You actually think I'm good enough to get in?” I questioned, my voice shrinking into a low and humble tone. “I mean, I haven't been playing saxophone for that long. Other people in the band have played since pretty much birth. I only have three or four years under my belt.”

“If anyone in this school is destined to accomplish something far beyond expectations, it would be you, Andrew. You go outside of the box when something is asked of you. Doing the job right, and always even better than asked for. Think about it. No one else here has been asked to perform with Juilliard Jazz. There's something special about you that anyone with eyes can see.” Mrs. Phillip confessed.

Wow, I never would have guessed anyone would have thought about me that way. Bradley and Adam told me things like “Good job,” or “I expect the best from you.” But no one has ever flat out told me I was special in my own way.

Perhaps that is why Mrs. Clawstrike always got on my case about messing up the solos, or being slightly off in pitch. She was always telling me to drop/raise my jaw until it was in the perfect position. Every time the tune sounded a tad bit wrong, she forced me to keep at it until it was perfect. When the class was given an assignment she sometimes pulled me aside and told me to do double the work. Quite stressful and unfair, but definitely worth the effort now that I thought about it.

She was right. I was the only one getting asked to perform with one of the top music institutes in the world. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I was quite proud of myself. “Thank you.” I told her in a smooth voice.

“You're welcome. Now go practice! You have a big show coming up, and you need to make our school look good.” Mrs. Phillip joked. “You're going to do great with those Juilliard kids, you hear? If not I will hunt you down.”

“You hunt me down? Pfffffft!” I played along. “I think I could take you one on one. Think about it. You're an old dinosaur and I'm a young cheetah. I can run around you four times before you can even move your arm!”

“Aha! Dream on! You think that'll help? You are sadly mistaken. This old dinosaur will tear you to shreds.”