Molly's Promise (11 page)

Molly asked, “Where is she?”

“She's on the mainland.”

Murphy said, “Wow, Moll.”

Molly's dad said, “I don't know how you can sing for her like you promised. We don't have time to get you there and back before the competition.”

“How about on the phone?” Murphy asked. “Your dad could set it up. It could be like a preview.”

“Murphy,” Celia said, “stay out of this.”

“It's okay,” her dad said. “That's a good idea. What do you say, Moll?”

A million thoughts ran through Molly's head. She had imagined this moment a million times, but she hadn't pictured it like this. Molly tried to remember every word her dad had just said. “Did you say Mom wants to hear me sing?” she asked.

“More than anything.”

“Can you phone her?”

“Sure. If you want me to.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Are you sure you're all right with this, Moll?”

Celia asked.

“Yeah,” Molly said. “I think I'm sure.”

Ten minutes later, her dad called from inside the house, “Molly, come here.”

Molly walked down the front hall and into the kitchen. She stared at the phone and thought about how many times she had wished her mom would call.

“It's your mom.”

Molly took the phone in her hand and put it up to her ear as her dad left the room.

“Molly? Are you there?” The voice was familiar.

“Mom?”

“I hear you are going to sing for me, honey,” her mom said. “I have waited a long, long time for this.” Her mom's voice was low, and as steady as Billie Holiday's.

“Yeah, Mom. I'm going to sing for you,” Molly said. She waited a few moments, until she heard the music in her head. “
Summertime, and the livin' is easy, fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
…”

When Molly finished, her mom began to sing. “
I go out walking after midnight, out in the moonlight
…”

“Wow, Mom, that's my number-two favorite song. ‘Summertime' is my number-one favorite.”

“Me too,” she said.

It was quiet on both ends of the line. Then her mom said, “Just sing, Molly. Sing. I'll watch for you on the news. Honey, I am so proud.” She paused. “And Molly”—her voice was interrupted by sobs— “I'll be out of here in less than a year.” Molly heard her suck up a deep breath. “But Trev says we can get together sometime before that.” She paused again. “If you want.”

A wave of anger rushed over Molly. Her dad had kept her away from her mom. This was all his fault.

As if reading her mind, and before Molly had a chance to speak, her mom said, “It's not Trev's fault, Molly. He was trying to do what was best for you.”

Molly looked out at the porch, where her dad sat with Celia. Her mom was probably right. Either way, the waiting was over, and now Molly was ready to sing.

Chapter Fifteen

Molly couldn't sleep that night. She thought about her mom in jail. It was scary. Was she safe? What would the kids at school think? She had never heard about anyone's mom being in jail. But when Molly thought about her mom's voice, a wonderful feeling came over her. She heard music and started to sing. This time she didn't keep the sounds inside. Soon she was so excited about the competition, she couldn't keep still long enough to sleep.

In the morning, Murphy and his mom arrived early. Molly's dad doubled the pancake batter so there would be enough for everyone.

“Murphy,” Molly said, “don't eat with your mouth open. It's disgusting.”

Celia laughed. “Thank you, girl. Sometimes your manager needs to listen to you.”

Murphy ignored them. “It's nine o'clock. We've got five hours to get ready,” he said and checked his notepad.

“We've got to get to the hair salon,” Celia said.

“Murph and I are going over to the community center to get a feel for the lay of the land,” Molly's dad said.

“How are you?” Celia asked Molly when they were in the car.

“Okay. Fine. Great. Better than I've been since as long as I can remember,” Molly said. “And thanks. For everything.”

“For threatening Trev, you mean,” Celia said and laughed. “He thought he was doing the right thing. But I've always disagreed with him about keeping Angela a secret.”

“I think I understand what he was trying to do. I guess he did the wrong thing for the right reason.”

Celia said, “Exactly.”

“Now, at least, I don't have to worry about winning or not winning. I can just sing,” Molly said.

After Reggi had done Molly's hair and makeup, she said, “I'll be there to watch you, girl. 'Cause you are going to knock them over.”

Molly looked in the mirror on the way out of the salon. The reflection was older and a little more impressive than the girl she was used to seeing.

Every minute seemed like hours. When they finally arrived at the center, Molly said, “I'm going to walk around the park for a while and get ready.”

First, she made sure no one was watching. Then she pulled out the information Murphy had printed on singing warm-ups. She stretched her neck, shoulders, fingers, jaw—everything. She made blowing motions and filled her cheeks with air. Quietly she made sounds. “Waaa, waaa, maaa, maaa, weee, weee, meee, meee, wooo, mooo.”

She took a few deep breaths and shook her body as if she were a rag doll.

Molly was ready.

By the time she got back to the center, people were crowding around the parking lot and streaming in the doors. Inside, her dad, Grandma and Uncle Maynard were sitting in the front row. They had put programs on all the seats around them. Albert and Jeff were in the next row. Danny was chasing Nell up the aisle.

Reggi sat alone a few rows behind them. Dede and Fi were there, along with crowds of kids from school and what looked like hundreds of other people.

“Over here,” Murphy called in a panicked voice when he saw Molly.

“Your name tag is inside the waiting room, with a package of instructions. You need to be backstage in ten minutes,” he said, motioning over his shoulder with his chin. “There are twenty-three contestants— fourteen from Riverside and nine from Central High. You're number twenty-two.” A long table with a red tablecloth stood in front of the stage. Three laptops were on the table in front of three empty chairs.

“You all right?” Murphy asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Fine. You?”

“Good,” he said. “Not really. This is worse than a soccer game. In a game, you have sixty minutes to win. In this competition, you have three minutes to do or die.”

“I'm not going to die,” she said. “I'm just happy I get to sing, and it doesn't matter if I win or not.”

Murphy threw her an exasperated look.

“Stop,” Molly said, holding her hands up in an
X
. “What I mean is, I can sing to win if I want. I'm not worried anymore about promises or secrets.”

“Does that mean you're going to try to win?” he said.

“Yeah. If I can, I should,” she said, thinking about Albert. “I've got no reason to lose anymore.”

“You're crazy,” Murphy said.

The hall was full. Molly's cheering section was huddled around Grandma. She was passing out signs that read
Sing, Molly, Sing
!

Molly headed backstage and scanned the group there. A woman clapped her hands and said, “Quiet, please, everyone. I'm Tina.”

Molly hardly recognized some of the girls she knew, in their dance costumes and makeup. Paige wore a long-sleeved, bright yellow bodysuit and a flower in her hair. She looked beautiful.

“Quiet,” Tina shouted again over the racket. “I know you're nervous and excited, but we have to focus.”

The group grew silent.

“You all have worked with the sound people. Right? Your music is ready. Right?”

Everyone nodded.

“You have your numbers. Right? So you know your order. Three people at a time will be ushered into the holding area.” She pointed to a small room offstage and to her right. “Keep track of your number. Be ready. I will call you when it's your turn. If you leave this room for any reason, let me know. If I can't find you in time, you could lose your turn.”

Murphy whispered, “You aren't going to be onstage for at least an hour.”

Tina said, “I want you to be respectful and polite.”

The contestants paced around the crowded room.

Murphy couldn't keep still.

“One last thing.” Tina pointed to three people who were standing beside her. “I want to introduce your judges. Leroy Macpherson, Tiffany Terrell and Magpie.”

Magpie was a surprise to Molly. She had expected him to be a rap singer. But he had curly silver hair down to his shoulders. He wore red canvas running shoes that seemed out of place with his suit and tie. His smile was friendly, as if he was looking at all his grandchildren.

Murphy whispered, “Magpie's as old as Grandma. I think that will work in our favor. He's going to like the song you're singing.”

Molly was struck by a sudden wave of panic. Should she have picked something more modern?

Veronica interrupted Molly's thoughts. “I'm number fifteen,” she said. “What about you?”

“Second to last,” Molly said.

Tina said, “All support people must leave the waiting area now. Numbers one, two and three, please step into the holding room, and good luck to everyone.”

Murphy held up his notepad. “Just one more thing!”

“No, Murph,” Molly said. “Not just one more thing. You've done everything you can do. It's up to me now.”

“I guess you're right,” he said. “High five!”

He high-fived her and Veronica and then left the room.

“You are so calm,” Molly said to Veronica.

“It's over now,” she said. “It's like I've already performed. There's nothing more I can do. No more practicing. No more psyching myself up. So now I have nothing to worry about. That's how I look at it.”

The girls counted down as each performer moved to the small room offstage.

When it was Veronica's turn, Molly gave her a hug. “Good luck,” she said, then laughed. “It's not really about luck.”

Veronica giggled. “Good music.”

When Tina called Paige's number for the holding room, Paige looked like she was ready to burst into tears. She didn't look tough or intimidating without Dede and Fi. In fact, Molly felt sorry for her.

“Good luck,” Molly said. She wanted to tell Paige to listen to the music, to let it in and let it calm her down, but she decided it probably wouldn't help much.

As Paige walked past Molly, she mumbled, “Thank you.”

As one contestant performed, another was summoned, and the backstage area slowly emptied.

Finally, Molly's number was called.

“How are you?” Tina asked Molly as she and the final contestant entered the holding area offstage.

“Fine,” she said. “Really fine.”

Number twenty-one was a beautiful tap dancer. As the girl walked off the stage, the man behind the mixing table jumped up and rushed over to the announcer.

“Hold on,” the announcer said into the micro-phone. “There's a little sound problem with the music. We can't find the music for the next contestant.”

The announcer and the soundman talked back and forth. Then the soundman ran across the stage to speak to Tina.

“What's wrong?” Tina asked.

“I've got music for number twenty-three, but nothing for twenty-two,” he said.

Tina looked at Molly with a mixture of anger and panic. “I thought everyone said their music was set up. You were supposed to make sure this didn't happen. Where is your music?”

“Inside,” Molly said.

The soundman and Tina looked puzzled. They weren't in the mood to make sense of what Molly was saying.

Molly said, “I'm not using music. I sing a cappella.”

“Really?” the soundman said in amazement. “With nothing?”

“Nothing,” Molly said. “I'm sorry—I thought you knew that.”

He was up on the stage by then. He grabbed the microphone and said, “Sorry, gang, my mistake. This next performer is making her own music.”

Molly filled her lungs with air.

The announcer said, “Number twenty-two is Molly Jacobs.”

Molly placed each foot carefully on the stairs. Her boots clomped across the stage.

She took the microphone out of its cradle and said, “Hello, I'm Molly Jacobs. I'm in grade seven at Riverside. Thank you all for coming. I'm really happy to be here to sing ‘Summertime,' made famous by Billie Holiday, one of my favorite singers.”

She looked out into the sea of people. In the front and to her right was a crowd of faces she recognized— Grandma and her relations from Long Inlet, Dad, Celia and the boys. When Molly saw Albert standing at the edge of the crowd, clapping his hands, she remembered what he had said and knew what she had to do.