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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Art / Music / Theater / Dance
- Published: 05/21/2018
The quiet kid at the talent show.
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United StatesThe gym was filled to the rafters. Literally. Row after row of bleachers filled with three thousand students. Students stuffed with youth, vitality, and hormones. More than a 100 teachers crowded in among the young people, and though they had left those confusing powerful teen years long ago, they were no less thrilled to see what would happen.
Excitement was everywhere in that gym, this day. Word had gotten out that the scheduled Talent Show had been cancelled. Why? Because when the fifteen acts showed up for rehearsal and went through their songs, routines, skits, and dances, the quiet kid from Mrs. Longstreet’s Music Theory Class sat down to play a song on the piano.
The kids who were in the Talent Show all sat down when he started playing. The sound guy just leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. So did the four Music teachers who were supposed to judge the Talent Show. No one interrupted the quiet kid as he started to play. They all just grew quiet. Then the quiet became only about the music. A minute later and nobody knew they were in a gym rehearsing anymore. Wherever the music took them, they went willingly.
Tears fell from both girls and guys. Hands reached for other hands, to try and hold it together while the quiet kid played. It was too much music not to share. As his fingers stole every bit of music in every note, covered it with emotion, grace, and power…then let it slide into waiting ears to slip straight into hearts and minds primed to overflow.
When he stopped playing, a long silence filled the huge empty space. The fifteen acts, four teachers, the sound guy and the two lighting volunteers blinked and looked around to see where they were - and what had just happened. Without a sound, but with humble awe, each of the students lightly touched the back of the quiet kid sitting at the piano.
“Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you.”
Was whispered to him in quiet tones filled with too much emotion to add even another word. All fifteen acts, the four teachers, and the sound guy and light girl and guy filtered down to the stage to stand in line- just to touch the back of the quiet kid still sitting at the piano. Every one of them gently reaching in awkward shyness to touch a miracle.
“Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you.”
The quiet kid just nodded a soft smile at each of them. When all had touched his back like the hem of a Saint, or the robe of an Enlightened one; he closed the keyboard with a sense of regret that he had to leave it- and walked out of the gym without a word to anyone.
The Talent show would be contestants, the Judges, the sound guy, the girl and guy who were volunteering on the spotlights, and two mom’s who had just happened to be there early to pick up their talented children- had a meeting after the quiet kid left the gym. Only one act would fill the bill on the day of the Talent Show- they decided: the quiet kid on the Piano.
The Principal was outraged.
“You can’t have a Talent Show that only showcases one student.”
The Vice Principal spoke up, she was one of the judges for the Talent Show, and she sat almost in a trance, like everyone who saw him rehearse that day:
“Jim. Trust me. Trust the more than twenty students who made up the Fifteen Acts that were supposed to go on stage, and the others who have already spoken to you. This kid (and she stumbled on that word - for no kid could play with the mastery, emotion and technical skill that the quiet kid displayed) will fill the allotted hour and half allotted for the show, and no one, I guarantee, no one will complain about there being only one Act. “
And so it was that the gym was packed with students the day of the “Talent Show.” Hundreds of parents were squeezed in hallways because there was no room in the gym. Almost five thousand people were crammed into a gym and surrounding hallways waiting to hear what made the Fifteen Acts give up their time in the spotlight.
The show was delayed for almost an hour as speakers were set up to bring the sound to every nook and cranny in the school. For the first time in the School’s history girls and boys, or girls and girls, or boys and boys; who were young couples in love were encouraged to sit together, instead of with their Homerooms.
Families were encouraged to sit near each other. Word had spread from those who had been there for the rehearsal:
“Sit with someone you like, or love, or are friends with. Because you are going to need a hand to hold, someone to hug, or at least a person to bond with as the music plays. You won’t be able to hold the music by yourself. No one can.”
Some kids were actually sitting on the rafters, others were pressed in so tight together that if one chose, you could walk across a sea of heads right onto the stage, and never lose your footing.
The lights flickered twice and then went dark. The Vice Principal’s Voice filled with an emotion that teenage hearts could recognize but not name sifted through the stillness:
“Welcome to the stage, the Quiet Kid from Mrs. Longstreet’s Music Theory Class.”
She didn’t mention his name, not because she didn’t know it, but because it seemed too small a detail to hold what she knew was coming.
The two spotlights hit the piano bench leaving a white glow that if not heavenly was at least angelic. From the darkness the Quiet Kid stepped into the light, settled himself at the piano, raised one hand to signal the light to be lowered, and the two volunteers acted in concert to bring the white circle down to a small cloud of soft light surrounding the quiet kid.
Five thousand people holding still at the same time, breath held in expectation, is a sound and feeling that few humans ever get to experience- and yet there it was. And then…
The first notes floated up like feather touches on every ear, rising up to the rafters, flowing out into the hallways. By the eighth note the slender fingers found and released from the piano to rise in delight, promise, free to wander into any open ear to release any memory or emotion that fit it - five thousand people took in a breath, closed their eyes, opened their hearts, and lost their minds.
Just like at the rehearsal, hands reached for hands, shoulders held heads burying in to connect with the ones they loved. Tears fled from eyes to wash some of the music out onto a physical plane that no one inhabited anymore. And still the music came.
Souls were washed clean, forgiven, filled with hope, given a future. Others found that the stains on their soul faded with every note. Hearts were healed, wounds were closed. The past was turned to mere memory from painful recall…and still the music played.
Gentle sobs came from all corners of the gym, high in the rafters, out in the hallways, parents and teachers alike were drawn back to what brought them together to find joy in life. Enemies let their anger fall to the ground to let more room to listen in their efforts to meld with the music. And still the music played.
Two hours went by. Music soaked into physical objects to linger long after the gym emptied. People of Faith thanked God in their own way. People of little Faith had it restored in humanity. Love found a home in the soaring notes and crashing crescendos of the quiet kid’s musical waves. Just like at rehearsal, there was no standing ovation. No thunderous applause. No hooting and hollering.
No. Not at all.
The quiet kid just sat at the piano, a light sweat making him shine like a creature from the heavens in the soft light that still bathed him. He sat emptied of all he had to give- there was no more music left in him. It had leaked into all the others to be saved, savored... sacred in every way.
One by one, five thousand students, parents, teachers, the other "would have been Acts", the sound guy, and the spotlight crew lined up to touch the quiet kid on the back as he sat at the piano.
Five thousand heartfelt: “Thank-you’s”
Five thousand gentle, awkward, shy touches on his back, each one a butterfly kiss delivered not by lips, but fingertips.
It took more than two hours for all the people to pass by and touch the quiet kid, whisper a thank you, and move on. No one went back to their classrooms. Some signal sent by the music, made folks leave the school in pairs, couples, groups of friends, or in healing huddles as relationships were formed, fixed, or forgiven.
School was over.
The last to leave was the quiet kid at the piano. He looked around the now empty gym. A smile slid into his face, skipped up to his eyes and filled out his face. He could feel the music building back up inside of him. With a caress that matched the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa, he closed the keyboard, and ran his hands over the curves of the wood.
The Music was over, but not done.
The quiet kid would play again.
The quiet kid at the talent show.(Kevin Hughes)
The gym was filled to the rafters. Literally. Row after row of bleachers filled with three thousand students. Students stuffed with youth, vitality, and hormones. More than a 100 teachers crowded in among the young people, and though they had left those confusing powerful teen years long ago, they were no less thrilled to see what would happen.
Excitement was everywhere in that gym, this day. Word had gotten out that the scheduled Talent Show had been cancelled. Why? Because when the fifteen acts showed up for rehearsal and went through their songs, routines, skits, and dances, the quiet kid from Mrs. Longstreet’s Music Theory Class sat down to play a song on the piano.
The kids who were in the Talent Show all sat down when he started playing. The sound guy just leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. So did the four Music teachers who were supposed to judge the Talent Show. No one interrupted the quiet kid as he started to play. They all just grew quiet. Then the quiet became only about the music. A minute later and nobody knew they were in a gym rehearsing anymore. Wherever the music took them, they went willingly.
Tears fell from both girls and guys. Hands reached for other hands, to try and hold it together while the quiet kid played. It was too much music not to share. As his fingers stole every bit of music in every note, covered it with emotion, grace, and power…then let it slide into waiting ears to slip straight into hearts and minds primed to overflow.
When he stopped playing, a long silence filled the huge empty space. The fifteen acts, four teachers, the sound guy and the two lighting volunteers blinked and looked around to see where they were - and what had just happened. Without a sound, but with humble awe, each of the students lightly touched the back of the quiet kid sitting at the piano.
“Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you.”
Was whispered to him in quiet tones filled with too much emotion to add even another word. All fifteen acts, the four teachers, and the sound guy and light girl and guy filtered down to the stage to stand in line- just to touch the back of the quiet kid still sitting at the piano. Every one of them gently reaching in awkward shyness to touch a miracle.
“Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you.”
The quiet kid just nodded a soft smile at each of them. When all had touched his back like the hem of a Saint, or the robe of an Enlightened one; he closed the keyboard with a sense of regret that he had to leave it- and walked out of the gym without a word to anyone.
The Talent show would be contestants, the Judges, the sound guy, the girl and guy who were volunteering on the spotlights, and two mom’s who had just happened to be there early to pick up their talented children- had a meeting after the quiet kid left the gym. Only one act would fill the bill on the day of the Talent Show- they decided: the quiet kid on the Piano.
The Principal was outraged.
“You can’t have a Talent Show that only showcases one student.”
The Vice Principal spoke up, she was one of the judges for the Talent Show, and she sat almost in a trance, like everyone who saw him rehearse that day:
“Jim. Trust me. Trust the more than twenty students who made up the Fifteen Acts that were supposed to go on stage, and the others who have already spoken to you. This kid (and she stumbled on that word - for no kid could play with the mastery, emotion and technical skill that the quiet kid displayed) will fill the allotted hour and half allotted for the show, and no one, I guarantee, no one will complain about there being only one Act. “
And so it was that the gym was packed with students the day of the “Talent Show.” Hundreds of parents were squeezed in hallways because there was no room in the gym. Almost five thousand people were crammed into a gym and surrounding hallways waiting to hear what made the Fifteen Acts give up their time in the spotlight.
The show was delayed for almost an hour as speakers were set up to bring the sound to every nook and cranny in the school. For the first time in the School’s history girls and boys, or girls and girls, or boys and boys; who were young couples in love were encouraged to sit together, instead of with their Homerooms.
Families were encouraged to sit near each other. Word had spread from those who had been there for the rehearsal:
“Sit with someone you like, or love, or are friends with. Because you are going to need a hand to hold, someone to hug, or at least a person to bond with as the music plays. You won’t be able to hold the music by yourself. No one can.”
Some kids were actually sitting on the rafters, others were pressed in so tight together that if one chose, you could walk across a sea of heads right onto the stage, and never lose your footing.
The lights flickered twice and then went dark. The Vice Principal’s Voice filled with an emotion that teenage hearts could recognize but not name sifted through the stillness:
“Welcome to the stage, the Quiet Kid from Mrs. Longstreet’s Music Theory Class.”
She didn’t mention his name, not because she didn’t know it, but because it seemed too small a detail to hold what she knew was coming.
The two spotlights hit the piano bench leaving a white glow that if not heavenly was at least angelic. From the darkness the Quiet Kid stepped into the light, settled himself at the piano, raised one hand to signal the light to be lowered, and the two volunteers acted in concert to bring the white circle down to a small cloud of soft light surrounding the quiet kid.
Five thousand people holding still at the same time, breath held in expectation, is a sound and feeling that few humans ever get to experience- and yet there it was. And then…
The first notes floated up like feather touches on every ear, rising up to the rafters, flowing out into the hallways. By the eighth note the slender fingers found and released from the piano to rise in delight, promise, free to wander into any open ear to release any memory or emotion that fit it - five thousand people took in a breath, closed their eyes, opened their hearts, and lost their minds.
Just like at the rehearsal, hands reached for hands, shoulders held heads burying in to connect with the ones they loved. Tears fled from eyes to wash some of the music out onto a physical plane that no one inhabited anymore. And still the music came.
Souls were washed clean, forgiven, filled with hope, given a future. Others found that the stains on their soul faded with every note. Hearts were healed, wounds were closed. The past was turned to mere memory from painful recall…and still the music played.
Gentle sobs came from all corners of the gym, high in the rafters, out in the hallways, parents and teachers alike were drawn back to what brought them together to find joy in life. Enemies let their anger fall to the ground to let more room to listen in their efforts to meld with the music. And still the music played.
Two hours went by. Music soaked into physical objects to linger long after the gym emptied. People of Faith thanked God in their own way. People of little Faith had it restored in humanity. Love found a home in the soaring notes and crashing crescendos of the quiet kid’s musical waves. Just like at rehearsal, there was no standing ovation. No thunderous applause. No hooting and hollering.
No. Not at all.
The quiet kid just sat at the piano, a light sweat making him shine like a creature from the heavens in the soft light that still bathed him. He sat emptied of all he had to give- there was no more music left in him. It had leaked into all the others to be saved, savored... sacred in every way.
One by one, five thousand students, parents, teachers, the other "would have been Acts", the sound guy, and the spotlight crew lined up to touch the quiet kid on the back as he sat at the piano.
Five thousand heartfelt: “Thank-you’s”
Five thousand gentle, awkward, shy touches on his back, each one a butterfly kiss delivered not by lips, but fingertips.
It took more than two hours for all the people to pass by and touch the quiet kid, whisper a thank you, and move on. No one went back to their classrooms. Some signal sent by the music, made folks leave the school in pairs, couples, groups of friends, or in healing huddles as relationships were formed, fixed, or forgiven.
School was over.
The last to leave was the quiet kid at the piano. He looked around the now empty gym. A smile slid into his face, skipped up to his eyes and filled out his face. He could feel the music building back up inside of him. With a caress that matched the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa, he closed the keyboard, and ran his hands over the curves of the wood.
The Music was over, but not done.
The quiet kid would play again.
JD
06/05/2018Kevin, someone who writes such beautiful and uplifting stories, definitely deserves to get their ego inflated once in a while. Just don't let it get so inflated that it carries you off into la la land where you will no longer be able to write grounded stories! THANK YOU so much for all the wonderful stories you've shared on Storystar. Congratulations on being selected as one of the Story STARS of the Week! I'm sure there are a lot more stars in your future! :-)
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
06/07/2018Thanks again for the Honors you constantly bestow on me. I have been to La La land and got grounded there too. LOL Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
05/23/2018WOW. That is about as perfect a story as I can imagine... about the most perfectly mesmerizing and uplifting musical experience I can imagine. Made me wish I were there experiencing it... but yet in my mind and heart... I was there... and it was wondrous! Thank you, thank you, thank you! :-)
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
05/24/2018Aloha Jd,
Well... I don't know what to say. It is going to take a steam shovel to move my ego out of the house now. I was listening to great piano music, took off the headphones, and sat down and wrote the story. Music can do that kind of thing. So can kind sweet words offered in support of us Authors. Thank You! Smiles, Kevin
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