“In the flesh,” Kristen’s father answered. “Your friend is correct. I rented this hall for the next couple of Saturdays.”
“Why?”
“One thing we’ve never told you was that Charley was a musician when she was younger,” Mr. Swift explained. “She suggested rehearsing at the site so you can get a good feeling on how the hall ‘sounds,’ or something like that.”
“Cool!” I said, thinking that it was an excellent suggestion. “How did you get the band together?”
“I called your school, asking for your music teacher. He managed to contact most of the students, and others contacted the ones he couldn’t. We didn’t get everybody, but we should have everybody here next week.”
Wendy came over. “I called Camille, and Patty was over at her house. I explained and they decided to see if they could wrest you from Kristen.”
Kristen’s father smiled. “How did they pry the two of you apart, Jim?”
“Kris went to Martin’s with Merry. I was working on arrangements for the party…”
“Do you have them?” asked Gerry.
“Unfortunately, no,” I said, sadly. “I wasn’t told where I was being taken.”
“Cammy and I thought we’d surprise you,” Patty said, apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were working on stuff for the party already.”
“Is there a phone here?” I asked.
Kristen’s father nodded, and pointed downstairs. “You can use the one in the office. They’ll know you’re with me.”
“Camille? Can you drive back to my house and pick up some stuff from my mother?”
“Sure,” Camille said.
Camille followed me as I ran downstairs and called my house. I got my mom and asked her to get some music books and the stuff that were on my keyboard in my room. I would have Camille stop by to pick them up.
“I think I have things under control, Mr. Swift. Thanks for making the effort!”
“No problem, Jim. I need to run.”
“OK. Thanks!” I shook his hand and looked over the students, who more or less set up their seats much the same as if they were in the music room.
I told the people to reorganize the chairs toward the front of the room where they would be playing. If we were going to be learning the acoustics of the room, we should do so in the same area where we would be performing at the party.
I found Sam, who played the string bass, and asked him if he knew the Peter Gunn theme. He wasn’t sure, so I went over to Amy’s upright piano and started playing the theme from memory, choosing the key of G. BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum…
Sam recognized the tune and picked it up almost at once.
Without a cue from me, at the right time, one of the trumpet players and Bill, the best trombone player in the school, automatically joined in on the third phrase. Soon, the drum kit came to life, and you could hear the entire room shake as people started to join in. Amy was even duplicating the bass line that I originally started.
“Hell, who needs arrangements?” I giggled to myself.
Patty, Wendy, and a lot of the chorus members were looking at me with their mouths hanging open.
I cued the band to start the song over. This time, Gerry plugged in his guitar, and I asked him to join in on the bass line, which was being overpowered by the rest of the band. I explained how I wanted the theme to get louder (crescendo) and softer (diminuendo) for each phrase, and showed Toby the correct fingering of the triplets near the end of the phrase.
Back in front of the band, I said we’d be doing eight-bar solos for the third repeat, with only the people doing the bass line maintaining the song. I asked for volunteers and assigned solos. I was surprised when Amy volunteered and gave her a spot in the solos.
Patty tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Jim. But is this the first time they played this?”
“They didn’t even know the name of the song before I started playing the bass line,” I said with a grin.
“Not true,” Bill said. “I’ve played this before.”
“Do you have any arrangements?”
“Not in this key.”
“Shit. Which key?”
Bill thought a moment. “One full step down.”
“F?”
“On a trombone.”
I nodded. “Which instruments do you have music for?”
“Two-part sheets for trombone. I think there’s a three-part sheet for trumpet and three-part for sax.”
I asked the group. “Would one step down be easier?”
There were general nods all around. Amy looked confused.
I smiled at the junior and showed her the bass line. As I did, Sam and Gerry played along. Once again, the entire band joined in, much better this time.
I was glad that Bill told me the right key. I made a mental note to ask for help next time before going off on my own.
I cued the band through two repeats and the solos began. Bill was great, as I expected. Following him was a sax solo, and then Gerry switched from the bass line to a lead guitar riff. Amy followed, a bit shaky, but doing a great effort for her first time. She was followed by a kick-ass drum solo.
We played the song two more times, and the solos significantly improved. I told the band to take five, and looked around the room. I knew that I’d need some additional music to allow the chorus members to be useful, and I found, to my delight, that Camille arrived with the stuff that I requested.
“Camille? Did my mom give you any music books?”
In response, Camille held up a stack of books.
I walked over and quickly found ”Moon River“ and placed it on the piano. The same book also contained the love theme from ’Romeo and Juliet’ as well. Both were Mancini tunes.
I rejected another Mancini song, ”Baby Elephant Walk,” since I didn’t have a piccolo or calliope, which was more or less essential for that song.
One of the books I owned was a “fake book,” which just was music with a melody line, chords, and lyrics. There was also a music notebook with “fake” arrangements that I wrote myself for other songs. I figured that we should play a few more “standards” and quickly found an old Jack Jones song, ”Lollipops and Roses.” I thought of the lyrics and figured it would satisfy the old people and might mean something special to my special blonde Goddess.
I went to the singers and asked for soloists for the three songs that I selected. I got volunteers for the Mancini numbers, but nobody seemed to know (or want to sing) the ”Lollipops and Roses.”
“You sing it, Jim,” said Roy, a friend of mine with a voice that people said sounded like mine. “If you want, I can help you double track it the way we did on ’Hooked on a Feeling.’”
“I don’t know if it’s in my range,” I said, looking cautiously at the notes.
Roy looked at the fake book. “It definitely is, Jim.”
“It’s not my style.”
“Bullshit.”
One thing about my band: nobody hesitated in calling me to task if they disagreed with me.
“OK. I’m afraid that people would…” I let the thought hang. I was about to say that I was afraid of making a fool of myself, that people would laugh. I knew that this was never a good excuse not to participate. Roy himself was shaking his head at me.
“OK. I figured we’d do the Ouga Chaka song…”
“We could do that one, also. Bill told me that Mr. Proilet made them practice that a couple of weeks ago.”
Bill was close by. “The song sounded eery without the chorus, but Mr. Proilet told the clarinets to play the melody almost half a beat behind, making it sound as if the brass was dragging the winds behind them.”