Page 13 of Sing Your Heart Out

“We’re ready to hear some good music!” Dwayne says, looking around at the faces of all the competitors. He claps his hands together three times. “Does anybody volunteer to go first?”

Marco steps forward, picking up his guitar. “I will do it.”

Dee beams at him. “Thank you, Marco. I can’t wait to see what you have prepared.”

“Is, si.” Marco puffs out his chest. “I will start with my own song first.”

He begins to play. He’s obviously a skilled guitar player, which is nice. He starts singing in Spanish, which is fine. I don’t know much Spanish so for me it is an exercise.

What strikes me first and foremost is that Marco’s voice isn’t particularly good; in fact, at times it is high pitched and grating.

He finishes the song with a flourish and waits for applause. There is a smattering of applause, which he bows deeply while receiving.

“Okay. That was interesting,” Dwayne says. “Next?”

“Caroline!” Marco yells.

A young woman in a modest blue dress jumps at her name, then hurries out into the center. She doesn’t have a guitar. She just looks around nervously and clears her throat.

Marco begins playing again, his tune this time very similar to the last. He sings the entire song in Spanish again, Caroline only joining his tune during a particular line of the chorus.

When he’s finished, the applause is even thinner this time. Marco’s face darkens as he looks around at us. “You have no taste.”

Caroline goes red, herring back to the circle.

Dwayne clears his throat. “Your second song sounded very similar to the first. And I didn’t see Caroline at all, frankly.”

Marco frowns. “It is not my fault if the gringa had nothing to add to the song.”

Dwayne smiles, but there is a coolness behind his eyes. “Is your third song in Spanish too?”

“Si.” Marco looks like a petulant child.

“And is your partner only a backup voice like Caroline was?” Dee asks.

Marco rolls his eyes. “Look, it is not my fault that no one here has anything original to say…”

Dwayne claps his hands together. “Okay. That’s enough from you, Marco. You can step back. Who is next? Caroline, maybe?”

As it turns out, Caroline is fairly charming when she performs her solo song, a quick little two-step tune. Her other partner is a guy names James, whose song is entirely unmemorable.

Nate is looking better and better, considering the competition. Most of the other people sing songs that are middling at best, although there are a few stand outs. A girl named George, a guy named Buckeye, Mellie, and of course Sarah.

Sarah goes just before I do, singing a rollicking country tune with Mellie first. Then she does her own quiet song, a really melancholic tune about wanting to start over in a new city.

After the applause is over, she shyly calls me up. “Smith? Do you want to come and play?”

Mellie cocks her head. Marco looks at us like we’re vermin. I step into the circle, exhaling a careful breath, and pick my guitar up.

I notice that Sarah’s fingers tremble where she clutches her guitar. I feel bad for her; I’ve long since stopped being afraid of performing in front of other people.

“Ready?” I ask Sarah. She nods, looking uncertain.

“One, two, three…” I count off.

I play and sing the lower parts, she plays and sings the fuck out of the higher notes. I look at her while we’re both singing and she grins back at me. Her enthusiasm is infectious.

When we play the last notes, the musicians start to applaud pretty loudly. Marco pouts and doesn’t clap, but everybody else does, Mellie especially.

---