By Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
Chapter Thirty-Two "Finally!"
With his good arm, Choirmaster Hecatomb tapped the music stand with his sharp baton to commence the Christmas concert. His other arm in its plaster cast hung in a Ridgefield red sling over his red Ridgefield vest. His vest hung rather loosely around his still ample belly. These had been some hard days for Mr. Hecatomb. He'd needed to do a good deal of special pleading to keep his job with the high school. His son Bart spoke up for him with an especial eloquence. And when Sarah Tone put in a good word, the Board of Education just had to give him a second chance. Sarah knew keenly that sometimes second chances are the best chances of all.
A few stragglers sidled into their seats. Some had to take whatever was available toward the front, and some, like Great Uncle Charlie, had to be signaled into seats that had been saved for them by watchful relatives. Granny Pansy, back down to only two arms, waved him into a safe landing, and patted his leg as he got settled. The first song was "Winter Wonderland," for the whole town of Treashurstaene had been converted, as if by some elfish magic, into a snowy and rosy winter hideaway overnight. Eves piled with fresh snow had glistened as the morning for the winter concert arrived. And many a husband and son sank into a happy doze as the concert ran on from song to song, tuckered out from an afternoon filled with shoveling out cars or sledding down the many slopes near the Welkin Wood.
The set list ran through all the Christmas time favorites, and each one was sung with typical small-town gusto. Although some who were there remembered that concert in later years as especially joyous, and smiled involuntarily when asked by their grandchildren to describe what it was like to have been there. For this concert was the first one after the saving of the town, and people were generally more in tune with the feeling and meaning of redemption behind the Christmas holiday than they had been in other years. "Good King Wenceslas" even brought a sigh from Mayor Tommy Lingersall, who had gotten in on a tidal wave of write-in votes in the special election. "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire" got Barnabas into a good appetite, which he sated by munching from his pocketful of Granny Pansy's special peppermint balls. "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" came in with an extra sharpness, especially the line "To save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray." But generally the crowd was as merry as anyone could recall, and the intermission was filled with a loud cloud of happy chatter, and the generous quaffing of some rather strong cranberry punch. A stranger in the town, who had disembarked from the golden barge that had pulled up during the battle, had stayed to enjoy the concert. A young man with dark eyes and a sensitive brow that told of a troubled past, very reminiscent of the princeling in Eva's portraits, beamed up at Sarah with a look of generous expectation. Even Hizzlesnit was there, sitting plumply under the pies table, catching delicious flakes of blueberry pie, and washing it down with a carafe made of a discarded cream dispenser.
When they finally got to Ave Maria, last in the song line-up, Sarah was beginning to get pretty nervous about her part. She'd done fine so far, but this last-minute addition had been practiced only by her and Mr. Hecatomb that afternoon, and her voice had cracked every time. Sarah had been kind of secretly hoping that the number would be dropped. But, scanning the faces of the audience, with her parents there, and Granny Pansy, Mr. Burrbuckle sitting tall above the others in the middle of the crowd, and even her cousins Abbey and Dar, with their parents in from the city and holding hands--and, of course, Great Uncle Charlie, who had motored down to Traeshurstaene in his broken-down old Rolls Royce, Sarah felt she just had to give it a try anyway.
Sarah gulped a quick glug of water from the glass on the stand next to her. She straightened the music sheet before her, but couldn't quite manage the "professional smile" that etiquette demanded. Her cousin Dar thought that she looked kind of like that soldier in that old black and white movie--the one who gets a blindfold tied around his head before the firing squad. Bart Hecatomb gave her a strong look of calm competence. He had no doubt that Sarah Tone could do anything she set her mind to.
Sarah cleared her throat, and then nodded to Mr. Hecatomb. He tapped his sharp baton lightly to get the attention of the other members of the choir, and then began the song with a firm downstroke. The organ came in low and soft, very soft, as if the first snow were falling on some lonely midnight forest. Sarah took a deep breath, and then started to sing with an otherworldly ease. It was as if the song were coming fresh to her lips, as if it was her own spontaneous prayer--one of gratitude in a world that had somehow welcomed her back after all.
Ave maria
Maiden mild!
Oh, listen to a maiden's prayer
For thou canst hear amid the wild
'tis thou, 'tis thou canst save amid despair
We slumber safely till the morrow
Though we've by man outcast reviled
Oh, maiden, see a maiden's sorrow
Oh, mother, hear a suppliant child!
Sarah's voice rose and broke over the tune, stretching with a breathlessness that kept the listeners on the edges of their seats. They wanted to know that this lonely soul would be heard, would be found in the dark wood and shown her way home. Everyone in the audience was saying a silent prayer themselves for the sake of the child whose voice they heard. They knew how long the night could be, how wide and empty the world was sometimes. They heard in Sarah's voice the rhythmic echo of their own hearts, but singing out as they never had. Sarah was singing for them. They came to the song together, and together Sarah and the audience felt the simple tears of sympathy, joy and gratitude well-up in their eyes.
Ave maria
Ave maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Ave, ave dominus
Dominus tecum
The murky cavern's air so heavy
Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled
Oh, maiden, hear a maiden pleadin'
Oh, mother, hear a suppliant child
Ave maria
Ave maria
It seemed that everything had turned out all right after all.
Sarah sang on.
THE END