REALLY SHORT STORIES OF YOUNG BRETT AND EDDY

Unexpected turn of events

"You're just having cold feet, Brett. We've got this, don't you fret. Just go up there and give your speech like we rehearsed. I'm so proud of you! You're a winner, Brett!"

In hindsight, I realised I should not have. Maybe... I should not have trusted Eddy when he told me how happy I would be after I had won. I should not have believed Eddy's assurances that I would be the only one my String Mates would want as concertmaster. Above all, I should not have trusted Eddy, as my campaign manager, to fight a fair fight.

Even now, after all that had been said and done, I could not help but wonder if Eddy had goaded me into running for concertmaster just to flex his political muscle. Still, it was I who let him. It was I who had failed to say no. It was I who wanted, deep down inside, to sample the sweet taste of victory. I realised now, too late, that every sweet lining came with a bitter cloud.

How naïve I had been, looking forward so eagerly to Election day. I, who had never won anything in my life, would win the honour of becoming concertmaster! If only I had known then what I knew now.

I made the mistake of allowing Eddy to become the voice for social justice on my behalf. Admittedly, the othet two candidates running for concertmaster were more popular and probably more capable too. Michelle was the first casualty of Eddy's crusade for social justice. Michelle was the female version of Eddy. Not only were her performing skills excellent, but she was also a school athlete to boot.

"All the other concermasters of the past have been female. Therefore, I only suggest that the role of the concertmaster be given to males. It is only fair. Does everyone agree?" Eddy confidently asked.

The boys of the Strings (Ensemble) let out a collective whoop of solidarity. The girls grumbled ( out of earshot of the boys) amongst themselves but ultmately held their peace. Boy power ruled supreme and Eddy was the King bee.

The other candidate was Jacob. Jacob had topped the standard last year, was head of the Band Club and spoke four languages. Being male, Jacob posed a slightly greater challenge than Michelle. Eddy, resourceful as ever, pointed out that I had myopia but my one other challenger did not. What had the wearing of spectacles got to do with the role of concertmaster? I wanted to protest but Eddy brushed my trivial concerns aside.

"Brett has had to battle myopia since he was a little boy! Do you know how hard it is to live with a physical disability on a day-to-day basis? Let's support all those with special needs! Let's put an end to discrimination! Does this everyone agree?" Eddy asked again, this time with more gusto.

I was flabbergasted, but there was not a single voice of dissent. Nobody wanted to be seen as a denying 'handicapped' male candidate an equal opportunity at the election.

Election day dawned bright and early. I had always assumed that on this day, I would have butterflies in my stomach from the anticipation of victory and the dread of loss. The butterfly effect was in full force, just as I predicted. What I had not expected was that it would be the dread of victory that was causing their wings to flap in double quick time.

Predictably, I was declared the concertmaster of String (Ensemble). It was, unsurpisingly, a landslide win, with the other two candidates getting only one vote each, most likely their own. With Eddy's call for so-called fairness, the election turned out to be more of a walkover than one of fair play.

The butterflies were making me almost physically nauseous as Michelle and Jacob took turns to shake my hand in a show of diplomacy and graciousness. If there were any resentment, the two of them did a masterful job of concealing it.

The non-stop flapping of insect wings in my stomach was causing a typhoon in my heart. This was not what I had thought winning will feel like! I forced a smile as best as I could. It would take a good dose of will power (not to mention a really thick skin) to deliver the victory speech Eddy had helpes me draft the week before.

I went up to the front of the classroom and decided go through with the speech, since there was little I could do otherwise. As I went through the motions of victory similing and speech-delivering, something occured to me. This was my big day, after all! I, a nobody from nowhere, had finally achieved something. I, who had never sipped at the chalice of victory, was now being allowed to gulp down the nectar of success. Why should I be my own worst enemy?

Perhaps this, then, was what it felt like to be a winner. Who was to say if Michelle, Jacob and Eddy, winners all, were not themselves the beneficiaries of nepotism and fortuitous circumstances at one time or another?

At any rate, what did matter? Did it matter if I had a little help from my friend in a high place? Did it matter if it was more of a reserved election than a proper election? After all, if nobody else seemed to object my winning, why should I?

I could feel my forced smile ease into a genuine smile. I stopped hiding behind the cue card in my hand and emerged to look at String ( Ensemble ) in the collective eye. I beamed at Eddy, my trusty campaign manager.

"We will do much good, Strings, and we will do it together!" I could feel my voice take on a new conviction it had never before. It was the voice of the new concertmaster. It was the voice of a winner. It was my voice.