String - 3. Band Camp

I liked spending my two weeks with dad in July, but I was glad to come back “home” after it was over. I mean, I enjoyed spending time with dad, but it always felt like he was trying too hard. We had to do something every day. We went to Kennywood Park. We went to the water park. We went to a Pirates game. We went on an overnight trip to Philadelphia. We went to a car auction… I was beat by the time I came back home.

Dad was legally required to have a room and bed for me at his apartment. It was okay, but it wasn’t like my bed at home. I also hated that I thought of mom’s place as “home” and dad’s place as “dad’s place.” I hated that dad had to almost beg her to let him take me on that trip to Philadelphia. He’d hoped to make it a trip to Washington D.C., which he knew I’d really enjoy. But mom didn’t want him travelling with me out of the state. Philly was about as far as he could take me and still be in Pennsylvania.

The best thing about coming home was being able to talk to Danny again. Sure, we texted and even called a few times while I was at dad’s place. But it wasn’t the same as seeing him face to face. Ever since Kayla had dumped him, we were closer than ever. We were really looking forward to band practice starting up again with our new band director. A lot of things were changing at the school. Mr. Taylor was now principal instead of vice principal. Mr. Williams retired so we would have a new gym teacher. The football team had a new coach. Apparently he’d played in the NFL for a few seasons and was coming home to Mon Valley. It was like we were becoming a real school again.

Danny and I talked about all the changes while we were relaxing together in the hot tub one evening.

“You know with all the changes, now might be the perfect time to talk about starting up the club,” Danny said.

“Oh no! Not that again!” I whined. “What is it with you and the gay club?”

“It’s for you, not for me,” Danny said.

“Sure it is,” I said.

“You know, the rumor going around is that Mr. Taylor is gay,” Danny said.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“That’s just what I’ve heard. You were in his office. Any pictures of a wife or girlfriend on his shelves?”

“Just pictures of his dogs,” I replied. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Young, handsome guy like that with a great job and lots of money? Girls should be throwing themselves all over him.”

“Well why don’t you ask him yourself when you ask him to start your little club for queers?” I asked.

“Are you allowed to say that word?” Danny asked.

“What word?”

“The Q-word.”

“Queer?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Isn’t that word racist or something?”

“Oh shut up!” I laughed. “It’s just a word that means someone is different.”

“A racist word.”

I stood up in the hot tub and shouted. “Danny’s in the hot tub with a naked queer!”

“Dude!” Danny said, half laughing, half terrified.

I grabbed my dick and balls and shook them at him. “Danny jerked a queer off in the hot tub!”

“Jacob!”

I sat back down and laughed at him. “You realize we’re all alone, right?”

“Mom or dad could have come home. We might not have heard them.”

“You are in a hot tub with a naked queer,” I said.

“Can you stop saying that word?” Danny insisted.

“Why does it offend you so much? I’m a queer.”

“You don’t act like one,” Danny replied.

“And how does a queer act, Daniel?” I asked.

“I don’t know…”

“Am I supposed to act like a girl? Are you excited to see my nipples?” I squeezed either side of my chest, pushing my nipples closer together. “You want to titty fuck me?” I laughed.

“Jacob…”

“Am I supposed to be all limp-wristed and call you ‘sugar?’” I asked, for some reason taking on a southern accent.

“You know what I’m talking about. If you didn’t say anything no one would know you were gay. Some guys you can just tell by the way they act.”

“Now who’s being a racist?” I asked, only half-joking. “And would you still be my best friend if I acted like the stereotype you have in your mind?”

“Of course!” Danny insisted.

“Would you still be sitting naked in a hot tub with me if I were more obviously queer?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“So you understand there are all kinds of queer people, just like there’s all kinds of straight people?”

“Jake, I understand. See, this is why having a gay alliance in the school would be so important. People need to know this kind of stuff.”

“Whatever, dude,” I replied.

“So did you hear we’re going to be going away for band camp this year?”

“Yeah. That’s really cool. I guess we’ll have a week of practice at the school and then go to Clarion University for band camp.”

“First we’ll have boot camp, then we’ll have band camp I guess,” Danny said.

“You know anything about the new director?” I asked.

“I heard he went to school here a few years ago. Young guy. He’s not even thirty yet.”

“I didn’t think band directors could be anything but old bald chain-smokers.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Danny said.

There was definitely a lot of excitement in the air the first day the band got together in the stuffy old band room. There were about thirty of us. Last year’s seniors had been replaced with half as many freshmen, so we had less people than before. We got our instruments out for the first time since school ended and we all talked about what we thought the new guy was going to be like. The room got quiet as Mr. Taylor walked into the room with a handsome young man beside him.

“Welcome back everyone. I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Reilly.”

Mr. Reilly nodded at us. He had a full head of wavy brown hair, and a beard. He also had the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen on a guy. I think I fell in love with him right then and there.

“Mr. Reilly was a student here once, just like you. He’s come back here at my request to help you grow as students and as young men and women. Mr. Reilly probably holds the record for most days served in detention here at the school, so he knows every trick in the book.”

Several of us laughed at what we assumed was a joke.

“Mr. Reilly has a bachelor’s in psychology and a master’s degree in music education. But most of all, Mr. Reilly just loves music and this school. Mr. Reilly, they’re all yours.”

Mr. Reilly and Mr. Taylor shook hands and then Mr. Taylor left us with this new guy. I noticed a wedding ring on his left hand and felt a twinge of disappointment for some reason. He stood at the director’s stand and looked around at us.

“Well… As Mr. Taylor said, my name is Mr. Reilly. I’m glad to be here and I hope you are too. So first the bad news… I’ve been watching the videos of your shows last year. I didn’t see any two people marching in step together. Half of you were out of tune, and the other half couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I was embarrassed to say you were representing my school. That’s why, even before we think about going to band camp, we’re going to spend this week together. We’re going to learn how to march. We’re going to learn how to play. Most importantly, we’re going to learn how to be a band instead of a bunch of people playing instruments. We’re going to memorize the music and play it perfectly before we try to put it on a field. And if any of this sounds too difficult, you can hit the bricks right now. There’s the door. No one will make you stay.”

No one left. I think we were all too scared of this guy to even flinch.

“No one?” Mr. Reilly looked around the room. He pointed at one of the drummers. “You there. What’s your name?”

“Logan Maddox.”

“What grade are you in, Logan?”

“I’m a senior this year,” Logan replied.

“Who else is a senior in here?” Mr. Reilly asked. A handful of students raised their hands.

“And I suppose you all think you’re going to be section leaders this year? That’s the way we’ve always done it, right? Sorry. The way we’ve always done it stinks. Section leaders will be earning their position over the next few days, and then they’ll be leading this band for the next year. If you want to be a leader in this band, you’ll earn it. If you don’t know your music, you won’t be on the field. If you can’t march, you won’t be on the field. I would rather have three people on the field who want to be there and have earned their place than thirty people who are just there because they thought band would be an easy ‘A.’ Any questions?”

Again, silence.

Mr. Reilly pointed at me. “You there. Mr. Trombone. What’s your name?”

“Jake Finnegan, sir” I replied.

“Good Irish name, Finnegan. Now, I want to you play a B flat. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” I played the note. Mr. Reilly stopped me.

“No no no… You’re sharp. That trombone hasn’t left the case all summer. Pull the slide on top out about a quarter of an inch. I did as he asked and played the note again.

“Perfect,” Mr. Reilly said. “Low brass, I want you to match Mr. Finnegan’s tone. Then we’ll play a B flat major scale. You know what that is right? Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

The rest of the low brass played the note I was playing. Mr. Reilly looked like we’d just tried to rip his fingernails off.

“I asked for one note, not twelve,” he said. “Listen to each other. That is the key to being a band. I can stand up here and wave my little stick around all I want and it won’t mean anything if you aren’t listening to each other. When you’re in tune, your instruments will sing together. You’ll feel it in your guts. It’ll feel so right. If you’re out of tune, you’re not playing together. I would rather you all be out of tune together than have eleven of you be in tune and one of you be off. You only have to pull one string on a sweater to unravel the whole thing. Now, this time I want you to go one at a time. Mr. Finnegan, play that note again.”

For the rest of the morning, we tuned our instruments and played scales. Nothing but scales. We never saw a page of music. We just listened to each other and played scale after scale. Then we took a lunch break. During lunch three parents had to drop off sneakers for their kids because they’d not read the letter that required us to wear sneakers with socks and no sandals. After lunch, we went to the school parking lot without our instruments and learned how to march. Mr. Reilly had us line up in a box formation and taught us how to march. He was like a drill sergeant. Marching practice went about the same as music practice had gone. At first we sucked, but as the afternoon wore on, we started to get into sync together.

“One two three four, one two… left… left… LEFT MR. ROSSI!!!! LEFT!!!!!!!” Mr. Reilly shouted. “Stop stop stop!!!!” Mr. Reilly walked up to Danny and asked to see his hands.

“Look at the back of your hands. See how your pointer and your thumb make an ‘L’ on that hand? That’s left. Left on one, right on two.” Mr. Reilly stood behind Danny and put his hands on his shoulders. “Left on one… Ready?”

And so it went all afternoon in the sun in that school parking lot. “Lateral slide to the left and go! Lateral slide to the right and go! Forward march!”

We marched.

By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted. Everyone, it seemed, except for Mr. Reilly. He gathered us around himself and had us form a circle.

“This was just the beginning. Day one of a new era. Half my job is to unteach whatever crap you’ve spent the last few years learning. I want you to rest tonight. Practice breathing. Use your entire chest, down deep in your lungs. All your strength will come from your breath. If you have no breath, you have no power. No life. Everything else will fall in line once you learn how to breathe. Everyone but Finnegan is free to go. Finnegan, come see me in my office.”

The rest of my exhausted band mates went their separate ways while I followed Mr. Reilly into his office. It was completely empty except for Mr. Butler’s old desk and an old clock on the wall. Mr. Reilly sat down at the desk while I stood.

“What did you think of today, Mr. Finnegan?”

“I think we need a lot of work, sir,” I replied.

Mr. Reilly nodded. “You think we’ll be up to the challenge?”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

“I don’t know,” Mr. Reilly said. “They’re going to need someone to lead them. You think you’re up to the challenge?”

“Me sir? I… I’m just a sophomore,” I said.

“No no no… Take that ‘just’ out of there. You’re not ‘just’ a sophomore. You’re a leader. You have passion. I could see it right from the start. You have heart, Finnegan. Everybody else was ready to quit, except for you. You had your chin up when everyone else was looking at their feet. I want you to be my low brass captain this year. I would have you be my field commander, but I need your trombone on the field. Anyone can flap their arms out on that field. I need you to step up and take command on the field, in the band room, and on the street.”

“But Justin is older…”

“I was never very good at math, Mr. Finnegan. Now once again, I’m asking, do you think you’re up to the challenge?

“Yes sir.” I replied.

Mr. Reilly stood up and shook my hand.

“Be here fifteen minutes early tomorrow,” Mr. Reilly said. “And ten minutes early every day after that. A leader shows up early and stays late.”

“I will, sir,” I said. I turned to leave.

“And Finnegan…”

I turned back around.

“Congratulations,” Mr. Reilly said. For the first time that day I saw him smile.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied.

I left the building and met Danny at his mom’s car.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“He asked me to be low brass captain,” I replied.

“Really?” Danny exclaimed. “Wow, that’s awesome!”

“Yeah, just one thing… I’ll need to be here earlier from now on.”

The next day, I showed up twenty minutes early. I heard amazing classical piano music coming from the choir room and I peeked inside to see who was making such beautiful music. There was Mr. Reilly playing on the choir’s piano, his eyes closed as he played, no music in front of him. The music was pouring out of him and into my very soul. He wrapped up his song and opened his eyes. He noticed me at the doorway and immediately it was like he changed from his true self back into the drill sergeant band director.

“Good morning Finnegan!” he greeted me. It took a bit of effort for him to stand up, and I noticed he was wearing a knee brace on his right leg. He limped a little bit as he walked.

“You okay, sir?” I asked.

“Just worked it a little too hard yesterday. Wait until you see everybody else today. We’re all going to be tired after yesterday. Some of the kids are going to be grumpy. This is the most important day. Today we’ll see if we truly have what it takes or not. You ready Finnegan?”

“Yes sir.”

Mr. Reilly led me to his office. There were more things in there than there had been, stacks of music on his desk, pictures of all the students in the band with their names and instruments written on them. The analog clock on the wall had been replaced with a digital one. His psychology degree from Pittsburgh and his master’s degree from Carnegie-Mellon were on a shelf behind his desk. There were a couple of pictures. The most noticeable one looked like a wedding picture. I noticed right away that the wedding photo had two grooms and no bride. Another picture was a selfie that had Mr. Reilly and the other groom standing on what looked like the top of the Freedom Tower in New York City, with a view of Manhattan behind them. Mr. Reilly looked a lot younger without the beard.

“Nice pictures,” I said.

Mr. Reilly just nodded.

“It’s going to be hell today,” he said.

Boy was he right! He introduced me as the low brass captain right at the beginning of practice. Justin shot me a look that made me think he’d have stabbed me if he could have. Mr. Reilly also made some changes to our seating arrangements. I was moved to first chair in the trombone section. Danny ended up in the last chair in the trumpet section.

“Now, don’t go thinking that any chair in this room is the best or the worst. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If you are third chair, you are just as important as first chair, and vice versa. Don’t go getting a big head if you’re made a captain or a first chair. And don’t go thinking you suck if you’re third chair. There’s only one band.”

We did scales again. God, I hated scales by the time we finished scales. Then we finally saw music for the first time. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen in band practice before.

“The Beatles?” I said aloud.

“That’s right, Mr. Finnegan. Lennon and McCartney. Who can tell me something about the Beatles?”

“They’re old,” one student replied.

“They were young once,” Mr. Reilly replied. “And they wrote some of their best music when they were not much older than you. Anybody else?”

“Yoko Ono broke up the band,” Danny said.

Mr. Reilly smiled in front of the band for the first time. “Not quite, Mr. Rossi. But she didn’t help things. See, as the Beatles grew more famous, they started to think less about the band and more about themselves and their own careers. By the end, everyone was doing their own thing and the band fell apart. But when they played together, they made some of the greatest music of all time.”

The week went on and surprisingly no one quit. Mr. Reilly had us gather together after every practice in our circle and he would encourage us to keep working hard, to keep practicing our breathing. A different kid got called to the office after each day to have “the talk” as it came to be known. Logan became our percussion captain. Two junior girls named Madison and Savannah were named woodwinds captains. A senior boy named Brandon became the high brass captain. I was the youngest of the captains. Mr. Reilly brought in a woman who taught in the elementary school to help instruct the flag and baton girls. More and more Mr. Reilly depended on the captains to help discipline and teach their sections. He would have us get together with our sections and find someplace on the school grounds to practice together. The captains were expected to lead those sessions. It was awkward being in charge at first, but I got used to it quickly. Even Justin started to respect my leadership by the end of the week. By Friday, we were all exhausted, but we sounded and looked more like a band. We even found ourselves walking in step together when we weren’t even marching.

One day during our marching drills in the parking lot, the football team came back from the practice field looking every bit as exhausted as we did. The largest man I’d ever seen walked up to Mr. Reilly and hugged him. Mr. Reilly just about disappeared into the man’s huge black arms. Both of them shared a laugh together and then Mr. Reilly called us to attention.

“Kids, I want you to meet the new football coach, Coach Rush.”

“Dude, that’s Bobby Rush!” Danny said.

When Coach Rush spoke, the ground shook with his booming voice.

“I hope you kids are excited to be part of our program this year,” he said. “The band is one of the most important parts of our team. We’ll be counting on you to cheer us on every week!”

“That guy’s a house!” one of my trombone players said.

“He was an offensive lineman for the Chicago Bears,” Danny said.

“What’s he doing coaching high school football?” another of the kids asked.

“He broke his neck second year in,” Danny said. “They thought he’d never walk again. Obviously they were wrong. Dude’s a beast. Anyone else would have died. Three hundred thirty pounds of muscle.”

Mr. Reilly brought us back to order and we continued our drills. Later in his office, I noticed Coach Rush was in Mr. Reilly’s wedding picture.

After a week of boot camp, I was thrilled to have a weekend to rest up before band camp. It promised to be a lot of hard work, but it would be fun because Danny and I were going to be roommates. Danny took his trumpet home over the weekend so he could practice. He didn’t want to be the weakest link.

We left Mon Valley High on Sunday night and rode two busses up to Clarion University. It was a quiet little town up north along I-80. We got to spend the night having fun before band camp started on Monday morning. It was just as intense as the week we’d spent at school had been, except now we had three sessions with Mr. Reilly instead of two. We went in the mornings and evenings to the football field to begin working on our field show. That was when being a captain became really important, because it was our job to make sure our section knew where to be and where to go on the field. When we’d take breaks, Mr. Reilly would meet with the captains. He would record everything with an i-pad and show us what we needed to work on. I went to bed exhausted every night, while Danny wanted to talk about girls and stuff.

On Thursday night, I felt so exhausted I almost didn’t make it to the bed before I collapsed. Danny came in about an hour after I did, wanting to talk.

“Come on Jake, this is our last night here before we go home tomorrow!”

“Danny… I’m beat, dude. Everything hurts. I’ve never worked so hard in my life.”

“You didn’t have to say yes to being a captain,” Danny said.

“Yes I did,” I replied. “You would have said yes too.”

“Yeah, but we both know that will never happen. You have to actually be good to be a captain.”

“You’re doing okay,” I replied. “You’ve come a long way since last week.”

“Yeah, I can tell my left from my right now thanks to Mr. Dickface.”

“Come on, he’s not so bad.”

“I miss Mr. Butler. Mr. Butler didn’t care if you didn’t know the songs. You could just mess around with the valves and pretend to play half the time.”

“Yeah, and that’s why we sucked so much,” I reminded him. “It’s hard work, but I really think we’re going to surprise some people when they hear us.”

“Whatever,” Danny sulked. “I miss my hot tub this week.”

“Me too,” I said.

“You have been working hard, Jake. I’m proud of you, dude. You earned being a captain. Tell you what. Why don’t you let me give you a massage?”

“You serious?” I asked.

“Sure. Here, take off your shirt…”

I took my shirt off and Danny instructed me to lay down on the bed on my belly. He found some hand lotion in his luggage and slathered it on my back. Then he knelt on the bed beside me and worked the lotion into my skin. I don’t think he’d ever given a massage in his life and he wasn’t very good at it, but I didn’t care. I liked what he was doing to me and I appreciated his efforts. It felt good to be touched. Danny worked his way down my back, and his hands slipped into my shorts and back out again.

“This would be easier if you took your pants off,” he said.

“You sure about that?” I asked.

“Definitely,” Danny replied. I unbuttoned my shorts and Danny tugged them off, leaving me in my underwear. He squirted more lotion into his hands and went back to work on me, this time rubbing my sore legs. He ran his fingers up my legs and down again. He massaged his way up my thighs and right up to my underwear. Then he’d go back down. Then he slowly worked his way back up again.

“Why don’t you take these off too?” he asked.

I felt so good I lifted up my hips off the bed without even thinking about it. Danny grabbed hold of my underwear and pulled them down my legs and off me.

“I don’t want to get lotion on my clothes,” he said. He quickly shucked his shirt and pants. I could see his dick straining at the front of his underwear. He slipped them off and returned, now naked, to my side on the bed. He continued the massage, only now he was freely massaging the lotion into my butt cheeks. He slipped his thumbs in between my cheeks and he brushed against my asshole. We both shuddered. Everything he did felt so good to me. We were both so turned on.

“Turn over,” he whispered in my ear. I rolled onto my back. Danny squirted more lotion on his hands and rubbed the front of my legs. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed feeling his hands working on my body. He kept getting closer and closer to my groin. He massaged my thighs between my legs, getting closer and closer. Closer and closer… I opened my eyes. Danny looked as nervous as I’d ever seen him, staring at my throbbing dick.. I knew what he wanted to do, but he was afraid to take the next step.

“Go for it,” I said.

It turned out, I didn’t know what he was thinking about doing. I thought Danny was going to jack me off. He didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head down and took my dick into his mouth!

“Oh my god…” I gasped in surprise and pleasure.

I watched as Danny’s head bobbed up and down on me. He rearranged himself so that his body was between my legs and continued sucking me his tongue whipping all over my dick. I started to buck my hips a little bit, but Danny put both his hands on my hips and pushed me into the bed. I closed my eyes and felt my body tense up.

“I’m gonna shoot,” I warned. Danny sucked even more on me until I popped in his mouth. He didn’t stop though! He sucked every drop of cum out of me, and then he gulped it down.

“You want to do it to me?” he asked wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t need to ask twice. I hopped onto my knees and pushed him onto his back on my bed. I only paused a second to allow myself to enjoy the anticipation of what I was about to do, and then I went down on him. As I sucked him, Danny slid his hand down my side all the way to my butt. He squeezed my ass and his fingers gently tickled my asshole. My dick lurched to life again. Danny thrust himself upward and held my head in place with his hands.

“Oh shit!” he cried. Suddenly my mouth filled with his stuff. Try as I may to prepare for it, it made me gag a little bit. Still, I choked it down as best I could. Danny collapsed on the bed.

“Oh my god…” he groaned. He tugged on me and I rotated around so that we were laying side by side. Danny wasn’t done. He kissed me. Not a little peck on the cheek, I mean we made out like the couple of horny teenagers we were. I’d never even kissed before, but there I was with my tongue in Danny’s mouth, and vice versa. Don’t ask me how long we made out. All I know is we woke up the next morning still naked in each other’s arms. I awoke to find Danny was gently stroking his fingers between my dick and my belly button.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling at me.

“Mornin’” I replied.

“So…”

“Yeah…”

“Guess we went a little further than we planned last night, huh?”

“You could say that,” I replied. “You regret it?”

“Hell no!” Danny replied. “I mean, it doesn’t have to change anything between us. Does it?”

“No… I’m sure best friends come in each other’s mouth all the time,” I suggested.

Danny laughed. “Yeah… Dude, we went way beyond best friends last night.”

“I know. I guess I’m not willing to pretend that we’re just going to keep going as if we didn’t just seriously fuck up our relationship last night. I mean, how do we forget something like that?”

“We don’t,” Danny said. “That’s part of who we are now. We’re always going to have sucked each other off at band camp now. That’s never going to go away. That’s us. And honestly, I’m okay with that. What about you?”

“Honestly? I’m kinda fucked up about it.”

“Okay, I am too,” Danny admitted.

“I mean, if it was just a blow job to you, then I’m not comfortable with that. I’d feel like you used me.”

“No… I mean, I couldn’t have done that with anyone else but you. I’m not saying I’m gay or anything like that. I’m just… Last night felt really good. I don’t mean physically good. It was that too. But… I just feel like… It felt right.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “And the kissing was really good too.”

“Oh my god, yeah! You are such a good kisser, Jake! That was super hot.”

“Not bad for the first time,” I said.

“Yeah, you totally blow Kayla away in that department,” Danny said.

I smiled.

So we got dressed and packed up to go home. If anyone noticed anything different about us, they didn’t say anything. We rode in our usual front seat together on the way home, next to Mr. Reilly who was stretching out his leg on the seat next to him. I could tell he was in a lot of pain after being on his feet for two intense weeks. Since he was wearing shorts, I noticed he had a totally gnarly scar on his leg, like someone had once tried to rip his leg off. Everybody has a story, I guess. Mine was never going to be the same after band camp.