Fall 2003
CONTEST WINNERS
SHORT STORY
HONORABLE MENTION
The Concert in Musical Valley
By Laura M. Gosman
The school in Musical Valley had one of the finest
orchestras. There lived Mr. Crescendo, the orchestra conductor for
all the boys and girls in the town. It was a very musical town,
and everybody played an instrument.
Mr. Crescendo just loved to conduct. He knew when the violins were
ready to play, when the trumpets were out of whack, and when the
bassoons were finally in tune! All year long the orchestra practiced,
getting ready for their big performance. They worked and they worked
and they played and they played. Together they practiced all the
notes.
But the day of the big performance Mr. Crescendo overslept. He
was dreaming of waltzes and snoring in 3/4 time. He didn’t
wake up until half past ten! When he finally woke and saw the time
he yelled out a loud C# in alarm! He rushed around the house, worried
he would be very late. He skipped through the house out of rhythm,
he drank his coffee in sweet sounding slurps, and reached for his
keys and jingled them about.
He got to his car in a hurry, so worried he would be late. He turned
on the motor and it hummed and groaned, and Mr. Crescendo hummed
along with it.
Everything should have gone just fine. Yes, at first it seemed
he’d get to school on time. But then he ran into traffic on
Interstate 193. All the drivers honked their horns, so angry to
be stuck in traffic. Mr. Crescendo honked a happy tune, trying to
calm everyone down. Some people yelled angrily out of their cars,
but Mr. Crescendo sang part of an opera.
Soon, though, Mr. Crescendo began to get stressed, because he knew
how late he was. And he had to get to the orchestra on time! He
got out of his car to see how many cars were ahead, and saw that
they stretched for over a mile!
Over at the school the orchestra was getting ready. They were tuning
their strings and moving their music stands. But where was the conductor?
Where was Mr. Crescendo? Did he oversleep? Was he sick today?
The flute players were getting bored and swirled their flutes in
the air like batons. The percussionists were bored too, and bonged
their cymbals extra hard. Crash! Crash! Crash! The trombonist was
taking apart his trombone and the violists made paper airplanes
out of their music.
They really needed Mr. Crescendo to keep them in musical line.
They needed their conductor standing up front. Time kept going by.
The audience began to gather. They fidgeted in their seats. They
coughed and laughed and told jokes back and forth.
Finally the head violinist stood up and said that it was time to
find Mr. Crescendo themselves. After all, he should have been there
by now. So everyone stood up and carried their instruments. They
searched the school, up and down the halls. They even went outside,
the audience puzzled but following behind.
Back in the traffic jam Mr. Crescendo was very upset. He began
honking a more discordant tune. Finally he got out of his car and
left it there, and trudged off to school on foot. “I’m
already so very, very, very, very late!” he sang out in alarming
staccato notes. He walked and he skipped, and he ran and he jogged.
He still had a long way to go. He felt so sad because he was late.
He wondered what the orchestra would think.
He did his best to get to the school. Soon in the distance he saw
a line of people walking down the other side of the road. As he
got nearer he saw that they carried instruments, and were making
music. Soon he could see more clearly … it was his orchestra
coming to find him. He let out a happy, melodious gasp, rising to
a high-pitched trill.
The head violinist spotted him too, and everyone rushed to greet
Mr. Crescendo. He hugged every one of them, and then took his place
at the front of the line. He began to conduct.
Everyone stuck in traffic heard the beautiful music and it warmed
their ears and their hearts. They stopped honking and settled in
their seats, so charmed by the orchestra playing in the street.
They moved ahead slowly and waited their turns. They offered nice
waves to those walking by. They even stopped yelling and screaming.
They asked when the next concert would be.
The orchestra played their best, and the birds chimed in. They
played loud and soft and in-between. They played like they had never
played before! At the end of the performance everyone clapped. Mr.
Crescendo saw his car straight ahead. He thanked his orchestra for
all that they did.
Those still in traffic honked again, but this time friendly honks
and musical honks, playing the orchestra’s tunes. After all
the congratulations Mr. Crescendo got back in his car and turned
towards home. After so much excitement he needed to go home and
rest. And sure enough he fell asleep, dreaming of waltzes and snoring
in 3/4 time.
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