Ice (13 page)

I did my second piece. too. No one spoke to us afterward. In fact, the elderly woman was gone when I stepped off the stage. We stood for a while and then realized no one was going to talk to us, so we started out, looked in the lobby and found no one.

"Why couldn't someone at least thank us for coming or say goodbye?" I muttered.
Balwin shook his head.
"I guess they don't thank you. You thank them." he said and we left.
He was very quiet most of the way home. I knew what he was thinking. It was a disaster. It was so bad we didn't even rate a goodbye and thanks for the effort. I felt sick to my stomach. The only thing that cheered me a bit was knowing Mama would be happy I failed. I wasn't going to tell her anything though. She would be so angry that I had gone to the audition in the first place.
I didn't forget about the audition, but all of the days right before graduation and the school year's end seemed full of small explosions and exhilaration. You could hear it in everyone's voices, how they burst with happiness and excitement. Lives were being planned. There was talk of colleges and jobs. It seemed as if a grand doorway was slowly opening for everyone to pass through into a new world, everyone but me.
Daddy made more progress with his therapy and there was talk now of his coming home. He and I didn't discuss the audition. It was left hanging in the air like some dream. I think he was afraid of my being disappointed and what that would do to him as well.
Mama carried on more about the new demands that would be made on her. but
I
could see she was happy about Daddy's impending return. too. With it was the promise of some sort of restoration. Daddy even added to her optimism by talking about their moving to a nicer place. He had compensation funds and he was promised a softer, easier job when he could return to work. He was, after all, something of a hero to the company.
When I had filled out my application. I had indicated I wanted Madam Senetsky to respond to Mr. Glenn at the school. I was afraid of anything arriving at the apartment and Mama finding it first. Finally, three days before the last day of school, the principal called me to his office. Mr. Glenn was there. too. The moment I walked in, I knew something astounding had occurred. Their faces radiated with
congratulations.
I read the letter of acceptance signed by Madam Senetskv twice before really absorbing it. Once more in my life. I was muted, unable to speak. They laughed and congratulated me again, Mr. Glenn had Balwin called to the office. When he heard what had happened, he started to cry. It wasn't sobbing: it was just the emergence of some tears he quickly flicked away.
He and I left the building with the principal's permission and Balwin drove me to the hospital. Daddy was doing some upper body exercises in his wheelchair. The therapist turned when Daddy stopped and stared at us entering the therapy center.
I didn't speak.
I didn't have to speak.
What I did was hold up his trumpet
mouthpiece.
He cried out and then, to the amazement of his therapist he stood up and took a few unassisted steps toward me. I ran into his arms.
"Mama will be furious," I said.
"So what's new about that?" he replied and we laughed. "How can we do it. Daddy?"
"We can," he insisted. "and we will. I mean, you will." Balwin nodded in agreement.
Outside the therapy room window, on the ledge, a sparrow paraded and flapped its wings.
And I remembered a little girl, afraid to speak, finding a voice in the music, the same music that helped the sparrow lift itself away to soar in the wind.