Syncopated Summer

CHAPTER 1

Luisa Lorca shivered in the hot room then planted her feet flat on the floor, smoothed the skirt of her best dress, and folded her hands in her lap. She almost wished she'd asked Papá to take off work to come with her. No. She was a big girl now. She could do this.

"Luisa! What's going on? Where's everybody else?"

Spinning around to the open window behind her, Luisa frowned at her brother, almost hidden by the honeysuckle bush. "Go away, Roberto! Somebody will see you!"

The boy's shinning eyes behind black-rimmed glasses slipped behind the window seal as the fan arced back to where his face had been. His voice came from under the unruly black hair that was all she could see. "Nobody can see me. The bush is thick, and I'll duck if anybody comes in. So where are they?"

"I can see you, and they could, too. If they come back, get your head lower!"

The eyes popped up again. "And that would be when?"

"Soon, I hope. Should I stand when them come in?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I think you're supposed to. It's manners, as if you knew that word. Besides, Papá always says manners made a difference."

"You better make up your mind because somebody's walking that way." The head disappeared completely.

The door opened and Luisa stood, managing a tense smile as three adults entered. First Dr. Hinklestein filled the doorway. He'd introduced himself to her and the other sixth graders yesterday. He'd told the group left at the end of auditions they'd be the new fall class of the Archibald Gray Academy of Jazz and Modern Music. He wedged his bulk into the center chair, coughing and hacking like he would force out his lungs.

The principal, Mrs. Sherwood, followed him in, talking to his back. "Can I get you some water Dr. Hinklestein? If you feel like you need to go on home, Miss Gray and I can proceed without you. Now, that's not to say we don't value your presence and your wisdom, certainly we do, but your health must come first. We need you hale and hearty, you know!"

Her dark green high heels that matched her suit quit clicking as she settled in to the chair at his right. Miss Paisley Gray walked in her black oxfords behind Dr. Hinklestein and sat at his right.

"Sit down, sit down."

Mrs. Sherwood never looked at Luisa as she spoke, but Luisa realized she was the only one standing and sat down.

"Dr. Hinklestein, would you like for me to—" Mrs. Sherwood stopped instantly when he shook his woolly head and coughed a monstrous blow into the handkerchief.

With a fresh cloth from his pocket, he wiped his mouth then looked up at Luisa, a weak smile fighting pain in his face.

"Excuse me, child. I can't seem to get over this nasty congestion." He coughed again, shook his head, and continued. "Tell me your name now, child."

"Luisa Lorca, sir."

Mrs. Sherwood placed a file before him. After another spasm, he thumbed through Luisa's grant application.

"Tell me why you want to attend the Archibald Gray Academy of Jazz and Modern Music." Dr. Hinklestein didn't raise his headful of bushy white hair to look at her.

Where should she begin? "I have wanted to come to the Academy since I started school. I always enjoyed the times you would bring a band or orchestra to my school and play. They were just boys and girls, but they could play awesome music! I've dreamed of being one of them."

She waited while he had another spell of coughing. His face seemed even more red than it had the day before. "Yesterday was the proudest day of my life when you said I could come to the Academy! I want to thank each of you for that."

He still didn't look up from her application form. It seemed like he'd been studying it nearly as long as she'd taken to complete it. She wanted to ask if he was thinking they had made a mistake at yesterday's audition and couldn't decide how to tell her. It didn't matter, even if he had meant what he said. If they didn't give her a scholarship, her dream would vaporize like the dry ice in last year's science project.

She watched him finger through the letters of recommendation at the back. "That's the letter from Mrs. O'Reilly. She asked if she could write one without my even asking for it."

Mrs. Sherwood frowned at Luisa.

"I'm sorry. I'm talking too much. I didn't mean to peek."

Nobody said anything. Mrs. Sherwood stared at Dr. Hinklestein, cringing every time he coughed. Miss Gray aimed her gaze at Luisa and seemed to analyze her from head to feet.

Luisa straightened even more and looked directly at Miss Gray, smiling so the woman wouldn't think she was too smug. Papá always said they were as good as anybody else and not to be embarrassed about not having nice clothes. Besides, her blue Sunday dress with the lace collar was fine. Papá had paid seven dollars for it in the thrift shop, and she felt pretty when she wore it. She hoped Miss Gray approved of her appearance, but she couldn't read anything in the woman's eyes.

Without looking up, Dr. Hinklestein started talking. "You're the oldest of five children and at twelve you cook and see to the household?"

"I do the cooking, sir, but my brother Roberto is eleven and he and Papá help me take care of things."

"How long have you been doing this?"

He started coughing again, and she waited until he straightened up and nodded before she answered. "Since my mother died three years ago, sir."

"Impressive."

"We just do what has to be done."

She wished she could take that back. Sometimes it was really tough, but whining didn't help. She hated people talking about what she did like she was some kind of hero. But it might help her get the scholarship, and she did so want to go to school here.

Dr. Hinklestein smiled at a sheet of notebook paper. "Your brother Ally..." He shook his head. "That's a mouthful of a name!"

"Alejandro — each 'a' is an 'ah' and the 'j' sounds like an 'h.' But we just call him Chico, Spanish for 'boy.'"

He nodded. "Chico says since your father doesn't speak English, you're the one who has made the younger children bilingual."

She was tempted to report Chico chimed in each time she repeated, "Speak English for the children," but instead she said, "Chico helps too, and Roberto. We all think it's important."

"I guess your dad was pretty proud of you yesterday, of your getting admitted, wasn't he?"

She felt her face grow warm. If she told him the truth, he'd think she wasn't grateful for being admitted. But she shouldn't lie. And she'd waited so long now he might not believe a fib anyway. She looked at him directly. "I didn't tell him, sir. I only told my brother Roberto."

Miss Gray jerked. "I take it, young lady, you do not understand that simply to be admitted into this academy is a great honor. Perhaps your interest was feigned."

What had she done? Now she'd offended them by telling the truth. "Oh, no, Miss Gray. It's a wonderful honor, and I've dreamed of this so long. In the second grade I heard a concert by the jazz band and I wanted to go here."

Dr. Hinklestein cleared his throat and took control. "Then why didn't you tell others when you reached the goal?"

She knew she should look at them. Instead she studied a frayed place in the lace on her right knee. "Because Papá would be so sad that he can't pay for me to go."

She didn't have anything to be ashamed of. The flyer said the scholarship program was for families who couldn't pay the tuition. She'd worked hard in the fifth grade, excelled in playing the recorder because that's what they used for auditions. And Dr. Hinklestein had stood and said, "Excellent!" when he heard her.

Papá always said to look at people. She made herself do it, and the three of them were smiling.

"And that's what we're talking about here today, isn't it?" Dr. Hinklestein put her application back in the folder. "We'll ask you to step into the hall for a few minutes, child. Just relax. We won't be long."

Dr. Hinklestein was coughing harder than ever when Luisa closed the door from the hall. She walked to a nearby bulletin board.

"Who's the old sourpuss?" Roberto's head appeared in the doorway to the courtyard.

"¡Siléncio! They'll hear you!"

"The old guy is coughing too much for anybody to hear anything. Who's the old lady?"

"She's Miss Paisley Gray, the daughter of the school's founder. You've seen her. She drives that old wreck of a silver Cadillac around town."

"Oh, the one who never looks and expects everybody else to get out of the way? She's loony, isn't she?"

"No, she's rich! Not that you could tell by looking, though. Did you see her hair? She looks like those pictures of old school teachers with a bun."

"Yeah, and your dress is nicer than that long cotton one she's washed too many times."

"Maybe. But she sure had it starched and ironed, didn't she?"

"What's happening now?"

Luisa sighed. "I don't have a clue. What did all that mean? They really didn't ask me much. Do you think I made them mad?"

"They shouldn't be. You just told the truth."

"That's right. And if I don't get the scholarship, life will go on. But I wish I hadn't sounded like I wasn't honored by being admitted. I am." She wiped away a tear that was working its way from her eye. "I am."

"Don't you worry. You'll get it."

"Maybe. Whatever happens, I've done the best I could. Say a prayer it's enough."

Neither said anything for a while. The only sounds were Dr. Hinklestein's coughing and scales and exercises from practice rooms across the courtyard.

She looked to make sure her brother was still in the doorway. "Peppercorn Cannady sure could teach these kids a thing or two, but they're still pretty good. Maybe I'll sound as good as they do some day."

"Heck, you'll be as good as Peppercorn if I know you."

"Dream on!" She smiled, though. Maybe she could.

But maybe not. She'd wanted this chance for so long, but if it wasn't possible, it wouldn't be the end of the world. If she didn't get this scholarship she'd just sign up for band at East Chisholm Middle School. The school-owned instruments would be picked over by now, but surely she could get something to learn on. Still, the best music students from all seven public middle schools came to the Gray Academy.

The door began to open. Luisa glanced to make sure Roberto had disappeared then turned to Mrs. Sherwood.

"We're ready for you. I apologize for the delay."

"That's fine, Mrs. Sherwood. Thank you."

She sat down again. Miss Gray's face looked glum. Luisa wanted to run and hide, but she knew she had to be nice since they'd given her a chance.

Dr. Hinklestein ran his hand through his hair, his face even redder. "Child, we'd looked at all the applications yesterday afternoon and more or less made up our minds. This interview was to check whether we'd made a mistake." He grimaced and struggled to stand up, then looked at her and said, "We didn't."

Oh no.

He coughed, and this time when he spoke he gasped for air. His hands were on the table, and he stood, leaning over them, head down. Mrs. Sherwood looked like she'd like to pick him up and carry him out, and Miss Gray's forehead was so wrinkled Luisa wondered if she could see past her eyebrows, looking up at him.

Luisa could see only the top of his head when he wheezed, "We'll be pleased to have you as a scholarship student. Come August 15 with your instrument, and the tuition will be paid this year and until you graduate so long as you perform satis...."

He crumpled to his knees. Mrs. Sherwood screamed, "Dr. Hinklestein!" She knelt beside him trying to hold him up, but he just sagged, slipping to the floor.

Luisa stood frozen between surprise at his words and at his lying there. He wasn't moving, or wheezing, or coughing. What should she do?

She'd studied CPR at the Young Citizens Club the summer before. Luisa wasn't sure she even remembered the steps, but she had to try. Mrs. Sherwood was still shouting "Dr. Hinklestein," which sure wasn't helping.

Luisa made her legs move and went behind the table. She touched Mrs. Sherwood on the shoulder and said, "Why don't you go call 911?"

The principal nodded and stumbled out the door. Luisa recalled the first thing in doing CPR was to get the person lying flat. How could she do that?

Miss Gray brushed past her and said, "Pull the feet toward you."

Dr. Hinklestein weighed more than both of them together, but they worked him around so he was lying flat on his back. Miss Gray was panting when she straightened up.

Luisa pictured the CPR chart in her head. "We have to clear the airway."

Miss Gray nodded, opened his mouth, and looked inside. "I don't see anything in the way."

The woman pulled his chin back and looked at Luisa. "I don't think I've got enough air to blow. Do you know how?"

Luisa was relieved Miss Gray was there. She'd thought she would have to do all of the CPR. Now she had a partner. "Yes. Can you do the compressions?"

"It looks like I'll have to."

They changed places and Luisa knelt beside his head. She pinched his nose closed, opened his mouth with the other hand, and took a deep breath. She was about to start when Miss Gray stopped her.

"Wait." She put her hand on the side of his neck. "We almost forgot to check for a pulse."

Luisa waited.

Miss Gray shook her head. "No pulse. Go ahead."

Luisa realized she'd been holding the breath. She breathed out, sucked in again, and blew into his mouth. She paused and watched Miss Gray almost climb on top of him to put all her slight weight into pushing down on his big chest. One, two, three, four, five.

Luisa nodded and puffed again. One.

Mrs. Sherwood came back. "The ambulance is coming. I'll go lead them here." Her voice was shaking, but she wasn't screaming anymore.

Miss Gray had finished the compressions, and Luisa started again. One.

She had no idea how long they'd worked when a siren howled to a stop nearby. Soon two paramedics took over while a third started checking Dr. Hinklestein.

Miss Gray backed up against the wall. Luisa stood next to her, shivering and hugging herself.

"You did that very well, young lady." Miss Gray touched Luisa's arm, and Luisa wondered if the hand wasn't even colder than her own.

"Thank you. I'm sure glad you were here."

Miss Gray nodded. "I doubt either of us could have managed that alone. Where did you learn CPR?"

"At the Young Citizens Club where we go after school and during the summer."

Miss Gray nodded and didn't say anything else. Luisa stood beside her, glad to have time to think. She worried about Dr. Hinklestein but knew she'd done the best she could. As she watched the medical team work, she thought about what he'd said just before he fell.

She had the scholarship. Yes! She'd be here at the end of the summer, studying under excellent teachers and learning to play a saxophone.

The paramedics wheeled out the gurney with Dr. Hinklestein. Miss Gray approached Mrs. Sherwood.

"We must have hope." She said it like the words could make Mrs. Sherwood hope.

"I don't think the paramedics do," the principal whispered. "They said they're not getting any response. They're pretty sure it's congestive heart failure. And it doesn't look good." She shuddered and bit her knuckle. "He can't die! We can't go on without him. When he mentioned retirement we searched, and nobody of his caliber wants to come to West Texas and teach in a private secondary school."

"Well, we'll look harder. The Archibald Gray Academy of Jazz and Modern Music will shut down before we'll hire somebody who's not a recognized master."

Luisa couldn't believe what she'd heard. Shut down the school? Now that she was admitted and had a scholarship? They couldn't do that!

Miss Gray's words echoed in her head, "We must have hope." Hope. Esperanza. Luisa had lived on hope a long time. But could she now?