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You are my heart, my light and my joy,
And my soul longs only for thee.
Suddenly the music rose in both tempo and volume, filling her senses with wonder and joy.
Whither thou goest, no matter how far,
You’ll never walk alone.
What God brought together never will part.
My heart is forever your home.
She lifted her attention from the paper to Gil’s erect frame, to his hands in their graceful motions. The chorus repeated itself in her mind as the glorious combination of notes carried her to a plane of emotional connection where she, Gil, and the music became one.
After all these years together
You’re still my forever.
’Til the day I die, I will be true.
And whither thou goest,
I make you this promise—
She found herself singing the final line with the band. “ ‘My heart ever belongs to you.’ ”
Gil held his hands high for several counts, then gave a quick swish of the baton. The song came to an end. A hush fell, an almost reverent intake of collective breaths, and then applause erupted. Gil stepped away from the podium and swept his hand toward the boys. They bowed in perfect unison. All across the audience people were rising to their feet, still applauding. Then Ralph Ediger took one forward step and gestured to Gil, who took a bow. The applause intensified, and someone yelled, “Encore! Encore!”
Tears rained down Ava’s face as she gloried in the recognition of Gil’s incredible talent. What if she’d stayed home today? Oh, what pleasure she would have denied herself.Forever she would remember the details of this performance, from the bright sunlight glinting off the instruments, to the scent of popcorn and sausage wafting on the warm breeze, to the tautness of Gil’s jacket across his back, to—above all else—the indescribable feelings that pulsed through every fiber of her being.
He’d moved her. Oh, how he’d moved her. What an incredible gift he possessed.
The boys were leaving in rows. Ava tugged Papa’s coat sleeve. “I want to follow the band, Papa, and tell Gil how wonderfully they did.”
“Go then. Hurry, before they are swallowed up by the crowd.” Papa gave her a gentle push in their direction.
Ava scurried after them, gripping the words to her song. Many of the parents had also left their seats and swarmed after the band. Ava lost sight of Gil in the throng, and she stood on tiptoe, searching. She finally spotted his wavy cap of dark, thick hair, and she waved the sheet of paper over her head, calling, “Gil! Gil!”
He spun, and his eyes found hers. A smile lit his face, and he started in her direction. But an older man she’d never seen before stepped into Gil’s pathway. Gil stopped, his uncertain gaze shifting back and forth between them. Then his eyes widened, and he turned his full attention on the man.
Ava lowered her arm to her side. She waited, watching for Gil and the stranger to part ways, but the man put his arm across Gil’s shoulders and led him in the opposite direction. Gil sent a quick, frantic look over his shoulder at her, and then he disappeared into the crowd.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gil
At a little before fouro’clock, as the bandleaders had been instructed, Gil gathered up the boys and they formed a small cluster near the edge of the performance arena. The judges’ decisions would be announced soon, and he would know whether or not his boys would advance to the next level of the competition. The boys wanted to win. He saw it in their hopeful expressions, in their tense frames, and in their singular focus. In truth, he wanted to win, too. But not for himself anymore. For them. They deserved it.
The announcer took a sheet of paper from one of the judges and moved to the podium. He lifted a megaphone to his lips, and his voice blared out. “The judges have made their final choices. Leaders, if your town name is called, the director and two band members should move to the performance circle.”
Gil had already selected the two boys to represent the Falke band—the eldest and youngest members. He beckoned with his finger, and Ralph and Timmy scurried to his side. He put his hands on their shoulders and held his breath.
“Lindsborg!” the man bellowed.
The Lindsborg director and two boys swaggered to the circle while the audience clapped.
“Marquette!”
