Tales from the Kurtherian Universe: Fans Write For The Fans: Book 3 Read online

  Mel sat back in her seat and waved her hand for Jemma to continue.

  “Well, you had fun singing and dancing. It helped you to come out of yourself. It may work for others. We should at least sound out the idea with others and see what response we get.” Jemma looked at them both expectantly.

  The noise and bustle of the cafeteria kept going around them, and none of them spoke. Jemma bristled in annoyance. If they didn’t like the idea, they could just tell her.

  A group of older students sat down at the table next to them, jostling the girls out of their reveries.

  “We could do it,” Mel admitted grudgingly. “But where? And who would you invite to watch the performance?”

  Jemma had already thought about this. “We could ask for permission to use Mark Billingsly Memorial Park. That way we can make it available to the families of our classmates.”

  “Hey,” wailed Eleanor, “I thought this was supposed to be an addition to the school dance?”

  “What if the school dance became the after-party? Or how about the day after? It’s the last day of the school year.” Jemma’s mind raced to try to keep up with all the ideas flooding into her brain.

  “So, you want us to ask for permission to use the park for a concert? For a few hundred people? To come watch a group of kids sing and dance?” Mel’s tone remained unconvinced.

  “Why don’t we ask a member of staff if it’s possible?” Eleanor countered.

  “If we don’t have a firm plan,” Jemma asserted, “they won’t take us seriously.”

  Mel looked at Jemma. “Jem, I’m not entirely sure I take us seriously.”

  Jemma’s face fell. She’d really hoped the other two would be up for this project. Her friends, seeing her distress, rallied.

  “Since we need permission, if we head to the park after school and create a plan, we’ll have something we can show the staff member,” Eleanor offered.

  “Sounds good.” Mel nodded her agreement.

  “Sure,” Jemma replied despondently, staring down at her tray of food.

  They finished their lunch in an awkward silence.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Mark Billingsly Memorial Park

  The girls made their way to the park after school. It took them a few minutes to find a quiet space to sit and make their plans.

  “I love it here.” Mel sighed, looking around. “It’s always so peaceful.”

  “Yes, and I love seeing the dogs when they are here.” Eleanor looked around for Ashur or Bellatrix or the puppies. They weren’t in the park today, and she looked disappointed.

  “Okay, we need to get serious about this,” Jemma started, bringing their attention back to their plans. She took her tablet from her bag. “Before we begin, where will the stage be?”

  Mel pointed to a flat and slightly elevated location a few hundred yards away. “Over there would be a good place. We’d be higher than the crowd so they can see us more clearly. Plus, it means there are plenty of places for people to sit. If we are inviting families, they can bring picnics.”

  Eleanor asked, “Are we inviting just our year, or are we opening it up to the whole school?”

  Jemma considered for a moment. “I think the whole school. I mean, even with their families, there’s more than enough space.”

  “I’ve been thinking.” Eleanor fidgeted with her sweater. “Why don’t we make it a talent contest, combined with a charity concert?”

  “I like it.” Mel smiled. “People can show their support for families who have lost loved ones. Let’s include all who have lost their lives, not just the military. For example, this park’s namesake.”

  Jemma’s fingers moved across the tablet as she logged their ideas. “Okay, so we need to ask permission to use the park. We also need someone to help us with staging the concert. We could ask Miss Harrison. I know she has done the sound and lighting for school plays before.”

  “Not to mention she likes us,” added Mel, and they all nodded.

  Jemma looked hard at Mel. “What changed your mind?”

  “As you said, people need hope. To know it’s okay to smile again.” She took a deep breath and looked into the distance. Jemma could see tears forming in her eyes. “I keep seeing my dad’s face when he saw us singing and dancing. Did you know it was the first time he’s laughed since before…”

  Jemma thought she understood but decided it would be better if she let Mel finish baring her soul first. It sounded like she needed to talk.

  Mel looked at her friends and continued, “He needed to have a reason to keep on living. He has me, but some people are alone. Who will bring a light to banish their dark demons?”

  A look of surprise and worry flashed across Eleanor's face, and Jemma imagined the same expressions on her own. Mel had always been the slightly ditsy and easy-going member of the group, but now Mel appeared to be introspective. They sat in silence for a while, letting the melancholy overwhelm them.

  “Then let’s give them hope,” whispered Jemma.

  Her determination washed away their sadness. “What will our performance be?” Eleanor asked, no longer fidgeting with her sweater. Her eyes sparkled as she asked the question.

  “Well, we all know the words and dance moves to one song really well. I think there are a few others that we could learn over the next week,” Mel mused. “So, I guess we need to practice for the performance.”

  “Yeah, let’s choose three songs so that each of us has one song where we are the main singer,” Eleanor suggested.

  Jemma updated her notes. “Okay, and what shall we call ourselves?”

  “How about we be a tribute band for the Empress, Gabrielle, and Tabitha?” Mel began. “We can dress up like them, with wigs and contact lenses.”

  “That doesn’t answer what we should call ourselves,” Jemma pointed out.

  Eleanor giggled, and Jemma and Mel both snapped their heads around to look at her with a question in their eyes.

  “Sorry, I just thought how they are all women, and that they have very…noticeable features.” She mimed a well-endowed figure. “I’m thinking, The Mamas and the Ta-Tas? I’m sure we can find enough tissues to complete the look.”

  Mel and Jemma were at a loss for words, then they broke into the biggest grins. “Excellent,” and “Perfect,” they exclaimed simultaneously

  “I think we need to have the different acts audition so that the concert doesn’t run too long,” Jemma suggested.

  “Good idea. How about we make posters to advertise the auditions for the concert? Then have one mega poster with tear-off tabs with audition times. It’ll indicate whether people are interested,” Mel said.

  “I can make those,” Eleanor volunteered. “What should we call the concert?”

  Mel brightened. “How about ‘A Concert to Remember?’”

  “Ooh, that’s clever,” Jemma chimed.

  “What is?” Eleanor looked confused.

  “Well, we want people to remember to come to the concert.” Mel raised a finger. “We want them to remember the concert after it’s over.” She raised a second finger. “Finally, we want people to come to the concert to remember those who have fallen.” Mel waved three fingers.

  “It’s perfect,” Jemma and Eleanor agreed in unison.

  After a few minutes of making notes about their plans, Jemma looked up at her friends. A wave of nervousness made her doubt their plans for a moment.

  “What if nobody comes?” worried Jemma.

  “Then the concert isn’t for them.” Mel squeezed Jemma’s arm and flashed a warm smile. “We’re doing this for those who need it.”

  “Then let’s make the posters to show Miss Harrison tomorrow.” Jemma smiled at her friends, and they returned to her apartment to complete their plans.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, High School, Tuesday

  When they got to school the next day, they went to see Miss Harrison immediately. They explained what they wanted to do, and showed her what they had put together so far.
/>   “I’m impressed.” Miss Harrison scanned their plans. “You’ve given yourselves two weeks to pull this together, but are you sure that’s enough time?”

  “Yes, Miss Harrison, if we get others involved, we should be able to prepare in time. Will we be able to use the park?” Jemma hoped the answer would be yes.

  “I will make a request on your behalf. Since it’s a charity event, I imagine you’ll receive permission.” She finally looked up at them and smiled. “I look forward to seeing the acts. As for backstage operations, I can organize a team to help you.”

  The girls left her office with excitement. They put up the posters before their first class, pinning their audition poster to the main bulletin board near the principal’s office.

  Impatiently they went to their first class, hoping it would pass quickly.

  When the lunch bell rang, they ran to the main poster to see how many people would be auditioning at the end of the week. They skidded to a stop beside the bulletin board.

  What they saw shocked them. Not one of the slips remained.

  “I can’t believe it!” Jemma checked around to make sure the slips hadn’t been ripped off and thrown on the floor.

  “Do you think somebody’s messing with us?” Mel wondered.

  Jemma felt sick but tried to sound confident. “I’m sure this is legit. I guess we’ll find out in three days, since the auditions are on Friday.”

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, High School, Friday

  Audition day dawned, and the girls got to school early. They went straight to the audition room to get it ready for after school. Miss Harrison had sent them a message saying it would be available all day for them to set up.

  They marked an area to indicate the stage space available on the night of the concert. They had registration forms so people could fill in the details of their acts, and the girls could record how long they took.

  A growing buzz of anticipation followed them around the school all day, their classmates eager to learn about the auditions.

  Jemma barely listened to her lessons, but none of the teachers reprimanded her. How kind, she thought. A few of the teachers stopped her during the day to wish her, Mel, and Eleanor luck with choosing acts. Some of them asked if they could help them prepare for the concert. The offers touched Jemma.

  When they arrived at the door to the audition room, the corridors were silent. Students and staff were eager to start their weekends. Jemma recalled that only a week ago, she and Eleanor had rushed to Mel’s quarters to give her support after the memorial. What a difference a week makes, she mused.

  Looking nervously at each other, they reached for the door, pushing it open. The room bustled noisily.

  Inside were almost forty students, half of them preparing for their auditions—tuning their instruments, getting into costume, or warming up their voices. The other half were there to cheer on their friends, and they chatted in anticipation.

  Jemma felt tears prickling her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Hey, guys, shut up! They're here,” Owen shouted from the middle of the room. Everyone faced them and fell silent. Jemma broke out in a cold sweat, her insides squirming.

  Holding their heads high, they walked to the stage to start the proceedings.

  “Hi, all,” Jemma started nervously. “Thanks for coming.”

  The crowd erupted into cheers and wolf whistles, and she blushed.

  “Yes, well,” she stammered. “You’ve seen the posters; the concert is in a week. The aim of today is for you guys to introduce your acts and give us a rough idea how long you’ll need to set up and perform.”

  Mel continued, “We have three hours allocated for the entire performance, so we all need to be efficient when setting up. In fact, if any of you are willing to help others set up, please let us know.”

  Eleanor held up a form. “At the front are a stack of forms. Please fill out one per act. We need your names, what you want to call your act, and what you plan on performing. Leave the timing boxes empty; we will fill those in as you audition. Bring the form to the stage when you start your audition.”

  Excitement and anticipation filled the room. Jemma waved her hand at the stage as she gazed at the audience. “Who’s first?”

  The auditions filled her with the joy and hope she had wanted. Oh my god, this is going to be awesome. Judging by their grins and laughter, her friends’ thoughts matched hers.

  The first act was a group of five students performing circus acts, tumbling, juggling, and twirling flaming-batons. The last caused Jemma some concern, but it proved unfounded. The performance went exceptionally well.

  Next came two jocks singing Rossini’s cat duet, Duetto buffo di due gatti. Apparently, they were already working on their cat costumes. As the battle of the duet rose in crescendo, laughter, whistles, and applause filled the auditorium. The boys, Joey and Greg, bowed deeply to the room and sauntered off the stage.

  As they reached another group of performers, one asked Joey, “Hey, aren’t you afraid of being laughed out of school? Why are you doing it?”

  Joey looked at him in confusion. “It’s for a worthy cause.”

  Leaving the other boy in silence, Joey followed Greg to a seat to watch the next act.

  The boy who took center stage looked small and timid. He stood fidgeting with his fingers, and Jemma gave him a smile of encouragement. He took a deep breath and began, in a voice far deeper and more sonorous than she expected, “It little profits that an idle king…”

  The room listened, captivated. Jemma was sure she could have heard a pin drop in the silence. Everyone hung on his every word, and at the end stood to applaud his narration. The boy bowed awkwardly, his cheeks pink, and scurried from the stage.

  Next came a couple of students who treated the room to a demonstration of their sleight-of-hand tricks, swiftly followed by a group of dancers who performed a variety of choreographed numbers to classical music.

  A group of six took the stage, laughing and joking as they got into position. Their faces became somber, and they began a recitation of a work by William Shakespeare. They broke it up into pairs of lines and came together for the last couplet. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…”

  Their words echoed around the silent room. The group finished in raised voices, bowed with flourishes, and bounced from the stage.

  Finally, Owen and his three friends took the stage. They had set their instruments up already. Owen had a cheeky grin on his face and stood at the front.

  “We,” he indicated the band, “are The Bitches, and we are going to rock your minds.”

  The drummer and guitarist began to play, and Owen started singing a rock ballad made famous by Queen, promising that, “We will rock you.” The room erupted into mayhem, and they all sang along. Owen strutted his stuff across the stage, winking at girls and encouraging everyone to join in. A brief break and they led straight into another Queen song, proclaiming to the room, “We are the champions.” Once they finished, Owen said, “We want to include another song, but we can’t decide what track to choose. Can we decide that night?”

  An expectant silence gripped the room. Mel answered immediately, “Sure,” and he gave her a dazzling smile.

  “Well, thank you all for coming. You have been amazing,” Jemma began. “From the conversations we’ve had during your auditions, I think we all agree there is enough time available for everyone on the night.” Cheers met her words, and a lot of happy faces grinned at her.

  Mel spoke up. “If we meet after school every day, we can plan scenery, lighting, sound, and anything else you might need. Enjoy your weekend, because next week is going to be brutal.”

  “But fun,” came an anonymous shout from the crowd, followed by laughter.

  The students left chatting happily and soon Jemma, Mel, and Eleanor were alone.

  “Wow.” Eleanor puffed out a breath.

  “Yeah,” marveled Mel.

  Rushing in to hug them, Je
mma exclaimed, “This just got real. If you guys come over tomorrow, we can finish the plans and practice our act.”

  “Sure,” they agreed, and they all went home.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds

  ADAM?

  >>How may I help you, Meredith? <<<br />
  There’s something you and Bethany Anne need to see.

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Mark Billingsly Memorial Park, Evening of The Concert

  Jemma, Mel, and Eleanor clattered noisily through the milling crowd of performers as the girls charged toward the stage curtain. Earlier in the day, Miss Harrison had sectioned off the area for the performers. It led directly to the stage and gave them a little privacy during the show.

  They all wore dark trousers or shorts and tight dark tops. They had decided in the end to keep their figures natural since they would be running around a lot. As one of them had said, “A missing Ta-Ta would be hard to explain.”

  Mel wore a black wig and red contact lenses to look like Bethany Anne, and Jemma wore a chestnut-brown wig and brown contact lenses to look like Gabrielle. Eleanor wore a blond wig with black ends and a fake nose piercing, and they had drawn henna tattoos on her to make her look like Tabitha. They would be the first act and introduce the concert.

  “Let’s hope somebody turned up,” Jemma said to the other two, who nodded their agreement. “Are we ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” admitted Mel.

  “No, but let’s do it anyway,” squeaked Eleanor.

  They pushed open the curtain and stopped in their tracks.

  People filled the entire park. From where they stood, there wasn’t a single space left. A group in the crowd spotted them and pointed them out to those around them. The news that the concert was starting passed like a ripple through the crowd, and the cheers and clapping rose in a deafening crescendo. The intensity of the noise made Jemma’s knees tremble, and for a moment she wanted to run.

  Miss Harrison hurried over to them. “Oh girls, isn’t this amazing?”

  None of them spoke. Jemma wondered if they felt as overwhelmed as she did.

  “Turns out,” Miss Harrison continued, “your invitation of ‘All Welcome’ went viral.” She gasped, “There are people in other areas of the base watching via video-link since there’s nowhere to stand in the park.”