Gabby Duran and the Unsittables (17 page)

T
he Brensville Middle School Orchestra performed in the Melchamp Auditorium, a large, stand-alone theater that sat right next to the school and
rivaled the downtown home of the city’s orchestra. Melchamp Auditorium was Gabby’s favorite place in the world. Normally, just the sight of it made her happy, and on performance days
she swelled with pride knowing she’d earned the privilege of playing in such a beautiful venue.

Yet today, when Gabby waved good-bye to Evan and Davida and looked at the auditorium, she felt hollowed out and miserable. She didn’t deserve to play here. She didn’t deserve
anything.

She looked at her watch. Eighth period had ended ten minutes ago. The school day was over, and kids roamed the pavement in front of the school, talking in happy clumps. Some looked at Gabby,
raising their eyebrows or laughing at her disheveled messiness, but Gabby barely noticed. She heard everyone as if through water, and they all felt far away from her.

“Gabby! Hey, Gabby!”

Andrew Lewis, Scott’s older brother, was racing out of the middle school along with five other boys from orchestra. The whole group followed Andrew toward Gabby. They looked her up and
down. “What happened to you?” Andrew asked.

He sounded interested, not judgey, but Gabby was too numb to give him an answer. She just shrugged, and Andrew left it at that. “Come in with us,” he said. “Maestro Jenkins
won’t get mad at us for being late if we’re with you.”

Gabby hadn’t planned on facing Maestro Jenkins. Edwina had said she’d meet Gabby in the auditorium after the concert, so Gabby had hoped to wait outside and catch her before she went
in, or just slip in afterward once the crowd had left and find her then. Actually going backstage and explaining to Maestro Jenkins why she’d skipped orchestra and why she couldn’t play
in the concert…that wasn’t on her agenda.

Still, when the boys surrounded her, she didn’t have the energy to object. She let them herd her along through the backstage door and into the high-ceilinged chamber filled with all the
ropes, pulleys, and lights that would make the stage come alive once the thick blue curtain was lifted.

“O…M…G!”
Madison Murray whined in a voice so loud that anyone already in the audience must have heard it. “What is
wrong
with you?” She
clip-clopped over in her shiny heels, and the small part of Gabby that was still paying attention noticed that Madison had indeed changed her clothes since lunchtime. This might have been her
second-best skirt and blouse, but it was even frillier than her best one.

Once she reached Gabby’s side, Madison took an exaggerated deep breath, then proclaimed, “Gabby Duran, you
reek
!”

Everyone turned, stared, and sniffed the air. Satchel, who had been drinking from a water bottle, actually did a spit take, spewing like a hose all over the backstage floor.

“Not the entrance I expected, Gabby.” Maestro Jenkins’s long, towering form strode backstage center. “Nor the look I expected, though as a rule I do support the creative
eccentric.”

As little as it mattered now, Gabby supposed she owed Maestro Jenkins some kind of explanation. “Maestro Jenkins, about orchestra period…”

“Patience, Gabby! I was about to get to that.” Maestro Jenkins spread his arms and urged all the orchestra members into a close huddle. Satchel maneuvered his way next to Gabby and
tried to catch her eye, but she felt too wretched to let herself connect with him.

“You are correct, though,” Maestro Jenkins continued. “Everyone here noticed that you were not in our eighth period session today. However, I did not tell them why. I left that
honor for you. Would you like to divulge the contents of the note I put in your locker at lunchtime?”

Gabby didn’t understand. She hadn’t been back to her locker since well before lunch. If Maestro Jenkins had left a note there, Gabby hadn’t seen it.

“Actually,” she said, “if you don’t mind…would
you
please do the divulging?”

Maestro Jenkins smiled approvingly. “Losing your humble veneer, I see. Very well then, I’ll share the accolades myself.” He lifted his voice to address the whole group.
“I told Gabby,” he said, “that I happened to be walking to my office during fourth period when my ears were rewarded by an absolutely stunning version of tonight’s solo
emerging from a practice room. I peered through the window, and there was Ms. Gabby Duran, making utter magic. I slipped a note in her locker to tell her that as far as I was concerned she could do
no better. I would take that as her final audition and leave it to Ms. Madison Murray to try to top it during eighth period. As for Ms. Duran, she could have the period free”—he sniffed
down his nose at Gabby, a mix of disgusted and amused—“to do as she saw fit.”

This information was clearly as new to Madison as it was to Gabby. Her eyes grew fierce and she opened her mouth as if to object, but then she cleared her throat and pulled herself tall.
“Maestro Jenkins, may
I
divulge what happened in eighth period? When I performed the solo and received a standing ovation from the entire woodwind section and most of percussion except
one extremely biased drummer?”

Satchel bumped his arm against Gabby’s to let her know he was the extremely biased drummer in question. Gabby still couldn’t meet his eye, but she gave him a wan half-smile.

“I believe you just did divulge, Madison,” Maestro Jenkins said. “And indeed you gave a fine audition. Just not fine enough. Gabby Duran, I reward you this afternoon’s
solo! Now everyone get ready. House lights off in two minutes, then get to your places!”

Gabby dully registered calls of congratulations, as well as some arm squeezes, pats on the back, and one stomp on her toe from Madison that couldn’t possibly have been accidental, but none
of it sank in. She beelined for Maestro Jenkins.

“Maestro Jenkins,” Gabby said, “thank you, but I can’t do the solo this afternoon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Maestro Jenkins clipped. “You can and you will.”

How could Gabby make him understand? She couldn’t possibly play right now. She was empty inside. She had nothing to give the music.

Then she realized she had an excuse. “I don’t have my instrument,” she said.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Yes, her French horn was right next door in the cubby under her locker, but Gabby didn’t have it
here
.

Maestro Jenkins looked at her like she was crazy. Then he pointed past her. “Gabby, your horn is on your chair, right where it’s supposed to be.”

Gabby turned. From here she could see out the wings to the stage. It was already set up for the orchestra, with the musicians’ instruments sitting on their chairs or at their places.
Maestro Jenkins was right. Gabby’s horn was on her chair, exactly where it belonged. Satchel must have brought it over for her. Normally, she’d be thankful, but now her heart sank. Now
she needed a new excuse.

“But Maestro Jenkins…” She tried to object, but the maestro shushed her and whisper-hissed to the entire orchestra, “House lights down now! Everyone to your
places!”

He eyed Gabby and nodded for her to move. What could she do? It was dark with the house lights down, but glow-in-the-dark tape on the floor helped Gabby and the others shuffle successfully to
their seats. By the time the house lights came up and the audience applauded, all the musicians and Maestro Jenkins were in place, the musicians standing next to their chairs.

Gabby saw her mom and Carmen in the front row, just like always. She forced a smile. If they noticed how disheveled she was, they didn’t show it. Carmen clapped with great gravity, while
Alice beamed and practically bounced in her seat.

Gabby shriveled inside. Her mom and sister seemed so proud of her. They had no idea how horrible she really was.

The applause died down as the orchestra sat. At a wave of Maestro Jenkins’ baton, they moved their instruments to ready position and prepared to play.

For the first time ever, Gabby dreaded placing her French horn to her lips. She wasn’t sure she could do it.

As if sensing her fear, the horn did the job itself. It leaned forward of its own volition and plooked its entire mouthpiece into Gabby’s mouth.

She spluttered a little and pulled the horn away. The other horn players looked at her curiously. Gabby’s horn silently tootled its valve levers, as if it was laughing, and Gabby quickly
placed her hand over them, so it looked like she was making them move herself.

But she wasn’t.

Hope tingled through her body and she leaned close to the instrument. “Wutt?” she whispered.

The horn leaped up and down in Gabby’s lap, and Gabby hugged it tight to stop the motion. She leaned over the instrument and whispered into its side. “But I don’t understand.
How did you—”

Gabby didn’t finish her thought. Even though she hadn’t been paying attention to Maestro Jenkins, Wutt apparently had. She pushed her mouthpiece against Gabby’s lips just as
the orchestra started to play, and Gabby instinctively dove in and played along. All Gabby’s questions dissolved into the music, and everything but her overwhelming joy faded away as she and
Wutt happily played song after song.

Then a spotlight shone on Gabby. The rest of the orchestra grew silent.

It was time for the final moment of the concert: Gabby’s solo.

“Here we go, Wutt,” Gabby whispered.

She rose, and a low murmur ran through the crowd. At first Gabby thought the audience was impressed with the way the spotlight glinted off Wutt’s French horn body. The instrument almost
seemed to glow.

Then Gabby remembered her ripped and stained clothes, matted hair, and dirt-smeared face. They’d been somewhat hidden by the rest of the orchestra at the beginning of the concert, but now
they were in full view.

Gabby almost laughed. How she looked was the last thing she cared about right now. She gently placed her lips to the horn’s mouthpiece and began to play.

The first time she and Wutt played this song, Gabby had been transported. She’d thought nothing could be as beautiful.

That performance was a pale ghost of this one.

From the first notes, Gabby and Wutt played a true duet. Wutt moved the valves not
for
Gabby, but
with
her, and each tone shift that came from Gabby moving her hand in and out of
the bell held stronger and richer emotion. Though Gabby peeked at Maestro Jenkins and her sheet music, what she saw was every moment of her day with Wutt and how deeply she had connected with the
little girl. Halfway through the solo, Gabby closed her eyes. She didn’t need any more guidance. She and Wutt were in a musical world of their own, using the notes to tell their story in
perfect unison.

When they finished, there was silence.

Then the whole audience burst into applause. Gabby heard the creaks and rustles as they rose to their feet. Even some of the other musicians stood and clapped, and Gabby laughed when she heard a
hoot and turned to see Satchel doing a full-on celebration dance behind his drum kit. Maestro Jenkins himself gave her a small bow and a smile before waving his arms to guide the entire orchestra
to their feet. The house lights came on, illuminating the audience, and Gabby beamed with glee at her mom and Carmen. Carmen nodded as she clapped, which for her was wild exuberance, and Alice
screamed Gabby’s name out loud. The orchestra bowed twice as a group, then Maestro Jenkins had Gabby step forward for a final solo bow. Instead, Gabby gestured to her French horn and leaned
it forward—Wutt’s own personal curtain call.

As everyone applauded, Gabby noticed someone else in the audience. A woman about halfway back, dressed all in black, with white hair pulled back in a severe bun. The seat to her left held two
giant bouquets of roses. The bouquets seemed normal, though Gabby noticed the blooms seemed extra red. Almost unearthly so. And each bouquet trembled with what seemed like overwhelming emotion.
Pride, maybe?

Gabby’s heart jumped. The roses were Wutt’s parents! They had to be! Wutt must have noticed them too, because the French horn let out an involuntary
BLATT
that should have
been physically impossible without anyone blowing into it, but no one seemed to notice over the continued roar of the crowd. No one except Madison Murray, who opened her mouth in shock, then gave
Gabby the stink eye.

Only as the curtain lowered, Gabby noticed the seat to Edwina’s
right
. The man seated there was large and round…and wore a cape…and had a soul patch.

Mr. Lau.

Mr. Lau was with Edwina? And Wutt’s parents?

Gabby wanted to see more, but the curtain came down all too quickly. Immediately, Gabby was swallowed by a maelstrom of congratulations. She hugged Wutt close and heard herself thank everyone,
but her brain buzzed with such a wild mix of elation, relief, and confusion, she didn’t even know what she said.

“That was
amazing
, Gabby!” Satchel said as he caught up to her and walked by her side. “Seriously amazing! I mean, I know you’re always amazing, but this was like
amazo
-amazing! Like,
amazingly
amazo-amazing! Like—”

Gabby glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, then whispered, “Want to know
why
it was so amazing?”

She looked meaningfully at her French horn then smiled knowingly at Satchel. He plopped his hands over his ears, started humming, and strode away as fast as he could.

“Nice solo, Gabby,” came another voice.

The compliment sliced across Gabby like a sword, and Madison leaned so close that Gabby could smell the peppermint from her breath spray. It smelled like evil.

“Thanks, Madison,” Gabby said brightly. “No hard feelings?”

She stuck out her hand. Madison sneered down like she was more apt to spit in it than shake it.

“Feelings have nothing to do with it,” she minty-hissed. “I
know
something’s up, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” She reached for Gabby’s
French horn, but Gabby turned and blocked the grasp.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Gabby said innocently. “Great show, though!”