The Truth in the Stars

Part 1: My First Believer

I glanced at the new flyer hanging outside the high school library door. It was for our next school play Peter Pan displaying a shadowy figure of the actor playing Peter Pan with his hands on his hips. My dirty-blonde hair color would match Peter Pan's hair color well. I sighed knowing that I couldn't be in the play. The last time I was allowed to do something like this was when my parents let me be in the church choir.

I was in first grade when I first joined the choir. My parents always went to mass every Sunday morning, and I enjoyed singing the multitude of songs that we sang there, so my parents signed me up for choir. Well, it was more of a suggestion from the organist. She was in charge of the children's choir. She told them I was a wonderful singer and would love to have me in her choir when she noticed my voice for the first time when I was sitting in the front pew.

After a month I went to my first practice. I didn't realize how difficult it was to learn to sing, as there were so many different things to focus on like breathing and the way you placed your tongue. There were also many kids older than me that sang beautifully. I didn't think I would be good enough to be in the choir so I got incredibly nervous when the time came for auditions. They only let the top twenty singers participate in church.

The other singers were making me more nervous the longer I waited. They were amazing. I could tell if one of them made the choir by Mrs. Jackson's expression. I was shaking so bad I thought the wooden pew would break. When it was my turn I took a few deep breaths.

I sang "O Come all Ye Faithful," and I strained my voice to meet the highest notes I could hit. I had to tone a few down so my voice didn't crack. When I finished the organist looked at me in disbelief. I could also see some looks of shock from the other kids. At the time I wasn't sure if I had done well or not, though she asked to talk to me at the end of auditions. I was nervous because I wasn't sure what was going to happen so by the end of auditions I was shaking.

"Mark, how did you sing a note that high? That was an E4! For a boy to sing that note without much practice is impressive."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jackson."

"I hope you know that you made the choir."

At this moment I took a moment to freak out. I was so excited.

"You'll do great," she said encouragingly.

When my parents showed up Mrs. Jackson informed them of my skill.

"Your son is a natural, Mrs. Murray."

"What do you mean?" my dad asked.

"He can sing higher notes than any of the other boys."

"Well that's good," my mom responded.

"I hope he'll be able to help us with the choir. He will be amazing when he finally learns some singing techniques."

"We were only letting him participate for one year. That's all," my father stated sternly.

I knew there would be no changing his mind unless I could show him my ability. My dad was a college football player and works as a mason so he doesn't understand, and my mom usually just goes along with whatever he thinks is best for a boy. I just wish my parents could stay for practice to watch me. Maybe then they would understand.

"Oh. That's disappointing."

"I apologize, but I don't think this is something a boy should be doing," my dad said coldly.

"Maybe you could come watch him at practice. Then maybe you'll reconsider."

"Okay. I guess we could watch," my mother jumped in.

So I'd have one chance to impress them. That's better than I could have hoped for. Maybe I'll get to stay I thought. I wish I had never got my hopes up. That week I ended up getting sick, and when I finally returned to practice my voice hadn't fully recovered. 

I couldn't change that if I wanted to. It was out of my control. After that year of choir I never got to do anything musical again. Whenever I asked, my dad would say 'You should focus on other things that can actually help you,' or 'You're a boy.'

I took one last glance at the flyer and went to class.