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More cheers as another director and a pair of uniformed youth took their place in the circle.
“Falke!”
Gil’s breath whooshed out and Ralph and Timmy gasped. The three of them joined the others awaiting the final verdict.
“Before we announce the first-, second-, and third-place bands,” the man called, “please give a round of applause for all of our participants. It has been a wonderful competition.”
Gil and his boys clapped along with the audience. Then the announcer waved his hand in the air, and the crowd quieted.
He put the megaphone to his mouth. “In third place, receiving a prize award of three dollars, is the Marquette band under the leadership of Lanny Scholes.”
While more applause rang, the director and boys received handshakes and an envelope from the judges. When they’d rejoined their band, the announcer lifted the megaphone again.
“In second place, receiving a prize award of seven dollars, is the Falke band under the leadership of Gilbert Baty.”
Gil’s heart momentarily sank. But Timmy leaped in the air, and Ralph released a whoop. Ralph swept Timmy off the ground and hugged him. Out of the corner of Gil’s eye, he caught sight of his entire band jumping and pounding each other on the back. Joy exploded through him. Their delight in second place was as sweet to Gil as a first-place victory.
He crossed to the table, shook hands with each judge, and accepted the prize envelope. Then he trotted to his boys, who surrounded him, jabbering in excitement. He herded them to their waiting parents, who received them with hugs and congratulations. Fathers slapped Gil on the back, and mothers thanked him for the time he’d spent with their boys. Onkel Hosea came, too, and grabbed Gil in a mighty hug.
“I’m proud of you, Gil. You put Falke on the map today.”
Gil’s heart swelled. He squeezed his uncle and said, “Thank you, Onkel Hosea. That means a lot to me.”
His uncle released him and flicked the envelope in Gil’s hand. “I guess this is your ticket money for New York, jo?”
Gil smiled and shook his head. “This will pay for Mr. Willems’s tuba and”—he raised his voice so the boys would hear him—“buy cotton candy for all the members of Falke’s band.”
More whoops and hollers filled the air. Gil peeled two dollar bills from the stack in the envelope and gave them to Ralph. “See that everyone receives their treat.”
“Jo, Mr. Baty.” Ralph waved the money. “Come on, boys! Let’s go!” The group, accompanied by several of the parents, hurried off with Ralph in the lead.
His responsibilities done, Gil wanted to find Ava. He turned to his uncle. “Did you see where the Flamings went?”
“Jo,MumkjeFlaming wasn’t feeling well. They left after the performance.”
Gil’s elation faded. “Ava left?”
Onkel Hosea nodded. “And Roald, too.” He slung his arm across Gil’s shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean your celebration must end. I have a nickel in my pocket. You should have some cotton candy, too. Let’s find your boys.”
Gil had no desire for cotton candy, for there was a concern he needed to address. He pointed to the emptying stands. “Could we sit over there for a minute instead? There’s something I need to ask you.”
—
The boys allwanted to ride back to Falke in the same wagon. It was a tight fit, but they made it work. They even put the little goat in with them, which created much merriment. Gil followed in the wagon that held all the instruments, andthe whole way to Falke he listened to the boys’ happy chatter. Happiness filled him, too. How good to know the band would continue even though he wouldn’t be leading it anymore. Onkel Hosea agreed it was too important to be only a one-summer activity, and he promised to speak to the other parents. Together, they would find a way for the boys to continue to play together. He even added, “I think we’ll let Herman join, too.”
The moon was halfway up the dusky gray sky when their parade of wagons rolled onto Falke’s main street. People climbed out of the wagons’ beds, calling farewells to one another and congratulations to Gil. His heart felt so full, he wondered if it would burst from his chest. He’d grown up around these people, had always felt as if he belonged with them, but it seemed that on this day he was more a part of them than ever before. He pondered the feeling, and he realized it was because of the music. Making music together connected people, gave them a common ground.
Returning their goodbyes, he retrieved Roald’s tuba from the back of the wagon and shook off the bits of hay used to cushion the instrument. The horn indeed looked brand-new after its time with the silversmith. As he walked to Roald’s house with a tuba under each arm and Timmy skipping along beside him, he wondered why he had never felt connected with other musicians in New York. Maybe because they were too busy competing with one other, the way he and Joseph had battled each other over the years. He liked it much better when everyone contributed their strengths and pooled their talents and made something bigger and better than each could do on their own.
He carried the tubas into the house and enjoyed Roald’s happy reunion with his instrument. Timmy asked if theycould play a duet, and Roald said, “Not tonight, son. It’s too late. You need to take a bath and then go to bed.” The boy fussed a bit, as he always did when told to apply a washcloth, but he yawned mid-argument and sheepishly admitted he was tired. So was Gil, but before he turned in, he wanted to see Ava. To ask if she’d been pleased with the variation of her song. To find out if her attempt to reach him after the performance meant she’d forgiven him. To tell her the wonderful thing that had happened as a result of playing her song for the judges.
He put water on to heat for Timmy’s bath, then walked the short distance from Roald’s to the Flamings’. To his disappointment, no lights glowed behind the windows. Not even behind the one clear at the back, which was Ava’s room. His talk with her would have to wait until tomorrow after church. With a sigh, he returned to Roald’s.
—
On Sunday morning,Roald got himself up and dressed for the drive to church. He hadn’t attended services since he hurt his leg, but he told Gil during their simple breakfast, “If I could ride as far as McPherson with my cast, I can ride to church. It’s time.” Then he lowered his voice and added, “I want to be there for the discussion about Timmy.”
Gil understood his desire to go, so even though it took some doing to get Roald up on the seat of the delivery wagon, they made it happen. Those who had attended yesterday’s End of Harvest celebration were still chattering about it before church began. Gil received several questions about what he would do next, and he gave vague responses. Before he talked to anyone else about his plans, he needed to share them with Ava. She was the only one who would be affected by them.
