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“Or me,” someone else called out, and several others chimed, “Me, either.”
Gil gawked at the group. Did they really think he would drop Earl from the band because he’d taken a fall? “Wait a minute, boys. I have no intention of cutting Earl from the band. It’s true he fell, but as Leo said, it wasn’t his fault. He stepped on a rock. It could have happened to anyone. His fall was an accident, and he shouldn’t be punished for an accident. I want him to stay in the band, too.”
Jack’s sullen expression relaxed, and the boys seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Gil bounced a genuine smile across every perspiration-dotted face in the group. “I’m proud of you boys for defending your friend. When I talk to Earl’s parents, I’ll tell them what you said. I know it will make Earl feel good to know how you want him to be part of the band.”
Leo tilted his head. “What were you going to tell us about Earl?”
“He turned his ankle pretty badly. The doctor doesn’t wanthim to walk on it for at least six weeks. That means he won’t be able to march with us. But as Leo already pointed out, we need his trumpet for the song to sound its best. So I want each of you to think hard about how we can include Earl in the competition.”
The boys started chattering with one another, but Gil needed the remainder of their time together focused on the new song. He waved his left hand over his head. “Whoa, boys. Listen, please.” They quieted down and gave him their attention again. “You all do some thinking and share your ideas when we come back tomorrow. Hopefully by then we’ll have a plan for how to include Earl. For now, let’s go up to the practice room. We have a new song to learn.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gil
Gil struggled through practice. Hehad to focus on keeping his directing hand still, which made it hard to give the boys’ playing sufficient attention. When he stopped concentrating on his hand, it lifted by reflex, and pain instantly reminded him of his mistake. He was relieved when they reached the end of the hour and he could send everyone home.
As usual, Timmy stayed behind and helped Gil put the chairs and stands away. It took longer since Gil could only lift with one hand. He suffered under the scrutiny of Timmy’s pitying glances until they were finished. Finally, Gil tucked Timmy’s tuba under his arm, and they headed down the stairs. Timmy led, walking sideways and keeping his gaze pinned on Gil.
At the bottom, the boy didn’t reach for his horn. “Mr. Baty, can I stay with you today?”
Gil chuckled. “Timmy, I appreciate your concern, but I only have a hurt wrist. I’m not helpless.” Although when he’d tried to fix breakfast, he’d felt pretty helpless. His left hand wasn’t as coordinated as he’d like.
“I know.” The boy sighed. “But Mr. Willems is at the post office. He doesn’t need me in there. Mr. Flaming’s already gone on the mail route. So now I don’t have anything to do.”
“Won’t your Taunte expect you to come home?”
He shook his head. “She said I should shoo. She’s not feeling very good and said I gave her a headache.”
“Well…” Gil adjusted his hold on the tuba. “I planned to walk to my Onkel’s place and check on Earl. I suppose you could go with me.”
The boy’s face lit. “Thank you, Mr. Baty! Maybe I’ll get to play with Herman for a little while. I wish he’d join the band. Him and me sit by each other in school. We’re good friends.”
Taunte Dorcas might see Timmy—and Gil, for that matter—as an intrusion to her day. He’d forgiven his aunt, but had she yet forgiven him for being born when her baby should have been? Not knowing what kind of reception he’d receive, he wasn’t sure he should take Timmy. But it was too late. He’d already issued the invitation, and he couldn’t disappoint the boy now. “Let’s leave your tuba at the post office with Mr. Willems,” Gil said. “Then we’ll go.”
Mr. Willems agreed to keep the instrument, even teased he might play a few notes on it, then Gil and Timmy headed for the Batys’ house. As he walked, Gil’s thoughts drifted to the McPherson silversmith’s shop. The call stating Roald’s tuba was ready for pickup had come a couple of weeks ago already, but he didn’t yet have enough money to pay the bill. The silversmith agreed to hold the tuba until the end of August, but then, he said, he would put it up for sale in lieu of payment. If the boys did well in the contest, would the prize money be enough to cover the expense?
When they reached his uncle’s place, Gil went straight to the woodshop. But neither Onkel Hosea nor Joseph were there. He scratched his head and scanned the yard. None of the children were playing. Had the family left for the day? He pulled out his timepiece and checked it. Then he groaned. Of course.Taunte Dorcas put lunch on the table promptly at noon every day. They were all inside eating.
Gil herded Timmy to the house and gave the back porch door a couple of taps with his knuckles. A few seconds later, Onkel Hosea appeared on the other side. His face registering surprise, he pushed the door open.
“Gil, why are you knocking? This is still your home. You should come on in.”
Gil appreciated his uncle’s kindness, but after his time away, he wouldn’t barge into the house unannounced. He gestured to Timmy. “I have a friend with me. I wanted to check on Earl, and Timmy hoped to play with Herman.”
Onkel Hosea braced the door with his hand and shifted aside. “Earl is in his room and the rest of us are eating. Come in and join us.”
Timmy bounced after Onkel Hosea without a moment’s pause. Gil followed more slowly. Onkel Hosea had invited them, but Taunte Dorcas prepared the meals. She might not have enough for him and Timmy.
They entered the dining room, and Onkel Hosea gestured to Gil and Timmy. “See who showed up at our back door in need of a good lunch?”
Everybody sitting at the table looked up. Herman broke into a broad grin, and the girls waved at Gil. Joseph seemed to focus on Gil’s sling.
Taunte Dorcas’s gaze met Gil’s, then quickly lowered. “G-Gil.Goodendach.”
“Good afternoon,” Gil said. “I’m sorry I interrupted your lunch. I wanted to check on Earl. I should have paid more attention to the time.”
