MERRY CHOTTER AND THE DRUM MAJOR'S STONE
By Kate
Rating: PG (just like the movie!)
Chapter Thirteen
Summary: True to its number, some very unlucky things happen, but, as always, something good happens for Merry as well.
A/N: This would have been up a lot sooner if I wasn't such a band nerd and didn't spend so much time at practice. Also, I'd written this about a week ago but as I was proofreading (for once in my life), I decided that it was awfully boring; 1500 words or so of marching lessons. Since band nerds are like musicians - we never give away our secrets and those who need to know them, do, I decided I could kind of skip the boring part. We pick up in MTBF (Marching Technique and Basic Flying) with Drumline and Brasschoir, together again. They've already learned the basics of marching now. Flying will come later.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Merry, Aldridge, and Rynn were beginning to wish they got water breaks in Marching Technique and Basic Flying class. Not only had they come nowhere near to learning how to fly, the air was muggy. Aldridge wiped sweat from his forehead as Mr. Te led the group in yet another run through 8 sets of 8, forward marching, at an incredibly slow tempo.
"Forward . . . march . . . forward . . . march," he called out in a measured tone. (A/N: I know other bands have other commands involving things like "harch," but that's the way my band does it and I love it!)
All of the Drumline and Brasschoir students snapped out their left feet and touched almost close to what could pretty much be called together. "One . . . ta . . . te . . . ta . . . two . . ." they counted, practically falling asleep. All of a sudden, a THUNK was heard on the far side of the practice field.
"Nevilla!" Aldridge cried out anxiously. Nevilla was the first girl tuba player Smog-Hurts had had in almost a decade and she had been suffering under the weight of the Sousaphone for a while now. Still, that wouldn't have been enough to do her in.
"Now, class, watch carefully," Mr. Te instructed. "This is a perfect example of why you never lock your knees while forward marching." He bent down to see if Nevilla was badly injured. Generally, she looked okay, but her knee was awfully twisted. "I'd better take Nevilla to the Nurse Clinic. If anyone is marching while I'm gone, you'll be in detentions for longer than a seventh-year girl can throw her concert dress. That's a command."
Mr. Te helped Nevilla up and walked her toward the main school building. As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, Leona Mauvais swooped down on Nevilla's Sousaphone. She was fidgeting with it for a moment, then stood, triumphant. "If Mr. Te noticed that little Neville didn't screw in her mouthpiece securely, she'd be doing pushups from here to eternity." The Drumline girl held up the shiny mouthpiece, her lips twisted into a wry smile.
"Hey!" exclaimed Merry. "You give that back now!"
"Make me, Chotter," Mauvais challenged. "You. Me. A drill-down. Now."
"You got it," Merry shot back, keeping her voice smooth.
"Merry! Don't do it!" Aldridge warned frantically. "You know Mr. Te told us not to march while he was gone . . ."
"Aw, can it, Grainger," Mauvais ordered. "Okay, then, Chotter, let's go."
The two lined up eight steps apart on the fifty-yard line. "Okay, here are the rules," commanded Leona. "Full attention, horns down. Forward march eight, left flank eight, left flank eight, left flank eight. Forward march eight, right flank eight, right flank eight, right flank eight. Forward march eight, left slide eight, backward march eight, right slide eight. Left flank eight, right slide eight, backward march eight, right slide eight, and halt."
Merry tried to commit all of that to memory. She got to count off since Leona had given both the drill and the challenge. "Forward march, forward march," she half-barked at a comfortable tempo.
The first eight sets of eight went rather smoothly, with both girls remembering all the turns. From then on, it got trickier and trickier, with neither one positive that they were doing the right thing at the right time. Merry just concentrated on keeping her shoulders square. Finally, the drill-down was over and Leona handed the mouthpiece to a Windchoir member who had been walking by and tagged as a judge.
The clarinet guy stopped and thought for a minute, then decided he didn't care and just randomly threw the mouthpiece. Leona dashed for it, but Merry, choosing a crowd-pleaser, jazz-ran all the way there and managed to win the mouthpiece. All of the Brasschoir members cheered, much as they had after Aldridge's performance in Compositions class. Only as Merry glanced toward the school with pride did she notice McGoneforgold standing in the school's courtyard.
McGoneforgold approached Merry briskly with an unreadable look on her face. "Come with me, young lady," she commanded. Merry gulped and followed the professor back into the school.
The two stopped off at the lisping professor's classroom. "Excuse me, professor, could I borrow Steel for a moment, please?"
Merry was beginning to get very frightened. What was Steel, some sort of weapon? Mr. Te had only mentioned detention; maybe Steel was some sort of jail cell.
Strangely enough, only a fifth-year girl came out of the room. She had plain brown hair and hazel eyes and, after a quick chat with McGoneforgold, stuck out her hand to greet Merry. "Hi, I'm Olivia Steel, captain of the Brasschoir drill-down team and Horn Section Leader. I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to get acquainted earlier. Professor M. here tells me that you're going to be our dresser this year; that's just great! We're going to go out to the drill-down pitch so you can get a feel for what goes on."
So Merry wasn't in trouble; she was joining a drill-down team, whatever that was. Hopefully she wouldn't get too bloodied up in doing so.
Once Olivia and Merry were outside, Olivia opened a rather large wooden chest. It contained one large speaker, two small ones, a whole bunch of wires, and a microphone.
"Okay, here's how a drill down works. Two houses are on the field at once. We spend the week before a match putting together a pretty short, pretty spiffy drill to perform. We all have to march the drill and the Sound Masters - there are three of those per team - have to get the speakers set up on the stands on the side of the field while leaving their line as little as possible - using enchantments works pretty well, but points are deducted for breaking or bruising the speakers. The Freshman - that's me, it has nothing to do with grade level - has to keep the other house from getting their speakers up. Also, those wires are live wires during the match and it's the job of the Sound Crew to keep anyone else from getting shocked. They have special lyres to use for that. But all I want you to worry about is this." Olivia indicated the microphone. "This little baby flies around the field during the game. You catch it, and the game is over. You catch the microphone and we win." The captain paused to take a breath. "Oh, yeah, plus we get style points, especially for cool horn moves."
Merry took a deep breath. It was looking like this might be a pretty exciting year after all.
A/N: Okay, I know it's kind of short, but there you go. Please review! Thanks to those who did:
FVBando, The Miserable, Rosaline, and adulaith.
Dancing Silhouette (Michelle): Heh, the rest of the school is so dense towards band. Example: "While all of you were sleeping in and enjoying your summer . . ." - Volleyball
Latinpro: Welcome to the Merry Chotter club! More Time Machine is coming, eventually. But hey, I'm joining Latin Club, so be happy!
Lori: Pit's just different. They don't march shows, they spend half of their time inside, etc. Drumline is made up of several morons, some potheads, some just plain scary people, and Julia, to pretty much sum it up.
By Kate
Rating: PG (just like the movie!)
Chapter Thirteen
Summary: True to its number, some very unlucky things happen, but, as always, something good happens for Merry as well.
A/N: This would have been up a lot sooner if I wasn't such a band nerd and didn't spend so much time at practice. Also, I'd written this about a week ago but as I was proofreading (for once in my life), I decided that it was awfully boring; 1500 words or so of marching lessons. Since band nerds are like musicians - we never give away our secrets and those who need to know them, do, I decided I could kind of skip the boring part. We pick up in MTBF (Marching Technique and Basic Flying) with Drumline and Brasschoir, together again. They've already learned the basics of marching now. Flying will come later.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Merry, Aldridge, and Rynn were beginning to wish they got water breaks in Marching Technique and Basic Flying class. Not only had they come nowhere near to learning how to fly, the air was muggy. Aldridge wiped sweat from his forehead as Mr. Te led the group in yet another run through 8 sets of 8, forward marching, at an incredibly slow tempo.
"Forward . . . march . . . forward . . . march," he called out in a measured tone. (A/N: I know other bands have other commands involving things like "harch," but that's the way my band does it and I love it!)
All of the Drumline and Brasschoir students snapped out their left feet and touched almost close to what could pretty much be called together. "One . . . ta . . . te . . . ta . . . two . . ." they counted, practically falling asleep. All of a sudden, a THUNK was heard on the far side of the practice field.
"Nevilla!" Aldridge cried out anxiously. Nevilla was the first girl tuba player Smog-Hurts had had in almost a decade and she had been suffering under the weight of the Sousaphone for a while now. Still, that wouldn't have been enough to do her in.
"Now, class, watch carefully," Mr. Te instructed. "This is a perfect example of why you never lock your knees while forward marching." He bent down to see if Nevilla was badly injured. Generally, she looked okay, but her knee was awfully twisted. "I'd better take Nevilla to the Nurse Clinic. If anyone is marching while I'm gone, you'll be in detentions for longer than a seventh-year girl can throw her concert dress. That's a command."
Mr. Te helped Nevilla up and walked her toward the main school building. As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, Leona Mauvais swooped down on Nevilla's Sousaphone. She was fidgeting with it for a moment, then stood, triumphant. "If Mr. Te noticed that little Neville didn't screw in her mouthpiece securely, she'd be doing pushups from here to eternity." The Drumline girl held up the shiny mouthpiece, her lips twisted into a wry smile.
"Hey!" exclaimed Merry. "You give that back now!"
"Make me, Chotter," Mauvais challenged. "You. Me. A drill-down. Now."
"You got it," Merry shot back, keeping her voice smooth.
"Merry! Don't do it!" Aldridge warned frantically. "You know Mr. Te told us not to march while he was gone . . ."
"Aw, can it, Grainger," Mauvais ordered. "Okay, then, Chotter, let's go."
The two lined up eight steps apart on the fifty-yard line. "Okay, here are the rules," commanded Leona. "Full attention, horns down. Forward march eight, left flank eight, left flank eight, left flank eight. Forward march eight, right flank eight, right flank eight, right flank eight. Forward march eight, left slide eight, backward march eight, right slide eight. Left flank eight, right slide eight, backward march eight, right slide eight, and halt."
Merry tried to commit all of that to memory. She got to count off since Leona had given both the drill and the challenge. "Forward march, forward march," she half-barked at a comfortable tempo.
The first eight sets of eight went rather smoothly, with both girls remembering all the turns. From then on, it got trickier and trickier, with neither one positive that they were doing the right thing at the right time. Merry just concentrated on keeping her shoulders square. Finally, the drill-down was over and Leona handed the mouthpiece to a Windchoir member who had been walking by and tagged as a judge.
The clarinet guy stopped and thought for a minute, then decided he didn't care and just randomly threw the mouthpiece. Leona dashed for it, but Merry, choosing a crowd-pleaser, jazz-ran all the way there and managed to win the mouthpiece. All of the Brasschoir members cheered, much as they had after Aldridge's performance in Compositions class. Only as Merry glanced toward the school with pride did she notice McGoneforgold standing in the school's courtyard.
McGoneforgold approached Merry briskly with an unreadable look on her face. "Come with me, young lady," she commanded. Merry gulped and followed the professor back into the school.
The two stopped off at the lisping professor's classroom. "Excuse me, professor, could I borrow Steel for a moment, please?"
Merry was beginning to get very frightened. What was Steel, some sort of weapon? Mr. Te had only mentioned detention; maybe Steel was some sort of jail cell.
Strangely enough, only a fifth-year girl came out of the room. She had plain brown hair and hazel eyes and, after a quick chat with McGoneforgold, stuck out her hand to greet Merry. "Hi, I'm Olivia Steel, captain of the Brasschoir drill-down team and Horn Section Leader. I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to get acquainted earlier. Professor M. here tells me that you're going to be our dresser this year; that's just great! We're going to go out to the drill-down pitch so you can get a feel for what goes on."
So Merry wasn't in trouble; she was joining a drill-down team, whatever that was. Hopefully she wouldn't get too bloodied up in doing so.
Once Olivia and Merry were outside, Olivia opened a rather large wooden chest. It contained one large speaker, two small ones, a whole bunch of wires, and a microphone.
"Okay, here's how a drill down works. Two houses are on the field at once. We spend the week before a match putting together a pretty short, pretty spiffy drill to perform. We all have to march the drill and the Sound Masters - there are three of those per team - have to get the speakers set up on the stands on the side of the field while leaving their line as little as possible - using enchantments works pretty well, but points are deducted for breaking or bruising the speakers. The Freshman - that's me, it has nothing to do with grade level - has to keep the other house from getting their speakers up. Also, those wires are live wires during the match and it's the job of the Sound Crew to keep anyone else from getting shocked. They have special lyres to use for that. But all I want you to worry about is this." Olivia indicated the microphone. "This little baby flies around the field during the game. You catch it, and the game is over. You catch the microphone and we win." The captain paused to take a breath. "Oh, yeah, plus we get style points, especially for cool horn moves."
Merry took a deep breath. It was looking like this might be a pretty exciting year after all.
A/N: Okay, I know it's kind of short, but there you go. Please review! Thanks to those who did:
FVBando, The Miserable, Rosaline, and adulaith.
Dancing Silhouette (Michelle): Heh, the rest of the school is so dense towards band. Example: "While all of you were sleeping in and enjoying your summer . . ." - Volleyball
Latinpro: Welcome to the Merry Chotter club! More Time Machine is coming, eventually. But hey, I'm joining Latin Club, so be happy!
Lori: Pit's just different. They don't march shows, they spend half of their time inside, etc. Drumline is made up of several morons, some potheads, some just plain scary people, and Julia, to pretty much sum it up.