“Mr. Crittenhouse!”
“Yes?” I said, a bit surprised.
“Happy birthday… Oogie, isn’t it?”
“Um, yes. That’s what people call me.”
“I think Jean Proilet said that nickname came from a song you recorded for Ms. Swift.”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “First day of school last year.”
“I saw her around the campus today. Jean says that she’s doing a great job helping out in the music department.”
“I guess.” I nodded.
“Well, we all appreciate what the two of you are doing for the morale of the school. The two of you are exactly what we are looking for as role models for our students. You should be proud.”
For some reason, the image of a naked Kristen giving me a blow job in an empty music room last year came immediately to mind. Some role model we were!
“Thanks,” I said, trying not to let that vision fluster me. “I hope you come to the talent show in a few weeks.”
“Are you performing?”
I shook my head. “Not directly. Some of my friends are going to help a lot of people throw on a bitchin’… um… sorry… a great show!”
I reddened as I realized what I said.
“Well, if it promises to be a ‘bitchin’ show,’ as you say, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mr. Yank smiled at me, his eyes sparkling.
“Um, thanks, Mr. Yank. I need to get to class!”
“OK. Bye.”
After school let out, I found Sherry as she was just entering the girls’ locker room. “Sherry?”
Sherry didn’t seem to hear me and went inside.
I glanced at the door. I remember Jackie telling me that I was always welcome in that room, but I knew for a fact that right now, some of the girls were getting dressed.
However, I still needed to speak to Sherry.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.
I saw about a half dozen girls on a bench. One of them wasn’t wearing a shirt, and had only a bra covering her chest. There was another one with a cheerleader top on who was pulling up her yellow panty bottoms.
The girls saw me, but didn’t scream—or even hide!
Instead, the girls said, one by one, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”
I sighed and turned to see Sherry looking at me. She was fully dressed in her school clothes. “Were you looking for me?” She had that distracted look in her eyes again.
“Yeah. I was going to ask you…” I finally got embarrassed at being in the locker room as girls were continuing to casually get dressed. “Can we go outside?”
“Um… sure, Jim.”
Sherry and I went out of the room back in the hall. A couple of cheerleaders passed us without comment.
“Was this ‘happy birthday’ thing your idea?”
Once again, I saw Sherry’s face completely change. She nodded and grinned. “We—the cheerleaders—all decided to do it. You’re not angry, are you?”
“How did you get Mr. Yank in on this?”
“Mr. Yank?”
“He stopped me in the hall and said, ‘Happy birthday, Oogie!’”
“He did?” Sherry was genuinely surprised. “How cool is that?”
I sighed. “Well, thanks. I need to get to rehearsal.”
Sherry stared at me as I walked away.
In the music room, the band was waiting for me.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OOGIE!” they all shouted, including the two music teachers who were at the back of the room.
“Great one, guys!” I said, smiling. “Now, let’s get to the business at hand. I’ve been working on some songs for the Christmas concert…”
A sophomore trombone player named Frank Rizzo looked confused. I knew him from junior high, and he was quite talented. Frank asked, “We’re not planning the talent show?”
“No,” I said. “That’s not our event. It’s being run by the chorus under Ms. Kendall’s supervision. If somebody needs the entire band to help out for a particular performance, have them let us know and I’ll make sure we have people that can help out. I was thinking that most people will just need one, two, or maybe four people to accompany them—not the entire band. The talent show is voluntary, and is not intended to be a feature for the band. It’s our way of giving back to the music department all the support they give us throughout the year. The chorus can use the money, since they have been invited to a performance in Chicago before New Year’s. We’re going to help them get there without having the students spend their own money.”
There was some general murmuring throughout the room at my answer, but the tittering went down after about a minute.
The rehearsal went well, and the band didn’t seem to have much problem with the new songs I worked on over the summer. After all, most of the songs were recognizable Christmas tunes.
One of the songs was different. People recognized the tune, but even Roy, who sang lead on it, didn’t know where it was from. After the first run-through, Roy asked the question. “OK. I’ve heard this before, but this is really a blues number. Where does Christmas Time Is Here come from?”
“Does anybody know?” I asked. I specifically turned to where Amy was sitting.
Amy shyly raised her hand. “From the Charlie Brown Christmas special?”
“Right,” I said, smiling.
There was some murmuring as people recognized the scene of Charlie Brown picking out the mangiest tree in the lot, and the raw emotion that the song invoked.
I noticed that Kristen was once again working with Tina, and during that song, I heard the young girl play for the first time. She played very well, and had a pretty good grasp of the blues, quite unlike Amy last year. If there was a problem, it was that she didn’t seem comfortable with the electronic keyboard that she was using. I saw her hitting the keys a bit too hard, but also saw Kristen helping her out there, so I didn’t mention anything to avoid embarrassing her.
I let the band out fifteen minutes early, since the rehearsal went so well. I asked a few people to stick around afterward as a favor.
When we were mostly alone, I had Frank Rizzo, James Gripper, Amy Grant, and Steve Rivera standing around me.
Frank Rizzo was a hotshot trombone player who I remembered when I was in junior high. He really enjoyed playing his horn, and always played first position. James Gripper was a senior who played trumpet very well, and didn’t have time for the jazz band last year for some reason. Amy Grant played piano, of course, and Steve Rivera was a junior who played drums and percussion.
“What did you want to see us about?”
“A rock band,” I answered. “I figure I can get Kristen to play bass, and Gerry Pembroke from last year to play guitar. He had a band last year but they broke up.”
“So this is outside the jazz band,” James said.
“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “I’ve told some people that I’m interested in doing a gig at Puppy Dawg’s. Gerry Pembroke can get us an audition, and I think that Kristen and he would make a killer guitar section.”
“I’m cool with it,” Frank said, “as long as I get some solos.”
“No problem with that,” I said, smiling. I had anticipated Frank’s request.
Amy smiled at me, but didn’t answer.
“A rock band,” James said, his eyes getting misty. “Could we play some Chicago tunes?”
“Sure,” I said, assuring the trumpet player. “Blood Sweat and Tears as well. Also dance music.”
“Not disco!” Frank cried, touching the back of his right hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint.
“Of course not,” I said, laughing. “I just don’t want to limit ourselves. When Kris and I played in Lafayette, we did a lot of Sinatra tunes, bosa-nova… things you might think of as old fashioned, but the songs have great melodies. We also played some Elton John and even a Beatles tune. I think we should also add some classic jazz tunes such as those sung by Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie, and so on. That way, we don’t shoe-horn ourselves into any single genre.”