Ever had a "falling down" moment?............

Chapter 6:         Defiance

"-There's something wrong with you, you're not normal" Lina, the school bully said as she pushed Lisa to the ground. Lina, was a big and bossy girl that nobody even attempted to stand up to, not even the boys. Lina, was the boss of the school ground.

"-Get up idiot, don't just lay there!" shouted Lina as she started to kick Lisa. Lisa covered her head with her hands and tried to make herself as small as possible. "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry" Lisa thought to herself as one after the other kick hit her body. Egged on by other children shouting: "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Lina started to laugh. "No fight here, this idiot doesn't even know how to fight" Lina said and with those words, it was over. They all walked away leaving Lisa curled up in a fetal position on the ground.

Slowly, Lisa stood up. With every one gone, she allowed one single tear to escape down her cheek before she started to walk back to the classroom. As she hang her brand new red parka on the hook outside the classroom, she muttered to herself: "I am not an idiot, they are."

Three hours later, the "end-of-day" school-bell rang. Lisa stayed back in the classroom until everyone had left, then she grabbed her trumpet case off the floor, her schoolbag, and walked across the schoolyard to the music room in the new school building, where she was to have her trumpet lesson. The hallway outside the music room stunk of stale cigar smoke and over-brewed coffee.

 Lisa opened the door to the music room, and there, behind a cloud of smoke and with his clarinet in his hand, stood Mr. Pearson, her music teacher. Although she had never said anything, she always wondered why Mr. Pearson never used a trumpet but always a clarinet to her teach how to play the trumpet.

Usually, he would just tell her to play scales and arpeggios and then duck back into the teachers lounge until the lesson was over, "but not this time", Lisa thought, I want to play something else.

"Mr. Pearson" she begun, "I want to play something else, I want to play either a Louis Armstrong tune, or the slow movement of Haydn's trumpet Concerto in D Major, and I have the sheet music with me for both." Mr. Pearson looked over the rim of his glasses at the little girl standing in front of him, let out sigh, and then said: "Lisa, you are ten years old, you can not play those pieces, to play those pieces you have to have played the trumpet for years, they are far too difficult for you."

"But Mr. Pearson, I have the music on records and I play along with them already, I just want you to help me with some of the notes" Lisa responded and then carried on: "I know that scales are important, but so are songs, aren't they? Isn't that why I have to learn how to play scales and arpeggios?" 

Lisa surprised herself with her outspokenness, she had never before asked Mr. Pearson a single question, not even if he could give her a lift, although he always passed her in his car on his way home after the lessons. Even though it was often dark when she walked home alone from her lessons, or poured with rain, or blew a gale that froze her to the bone, or snow fell that made visibility virtually nil, or other children harassed and taunted her, he had never asked if she needed or wanted a lift.

Mr. Pearson let out a "huh" and then answered: "What do you know about music, you are way too young, stop this nonsense, and start playing your scales" and with those words he left the room, with the door slamming shut behind him.

Lisa looked at the closed door, thought for a second, then grabbed her things and walked out the door.

Filled with anger and frustration she started the long walk home. She was angry with school, she was angry with Lina, she was angry with Mr. Pearson, she was angry with her teacher who never helped her with the bullies, she was angry with herself for not fighting back, she was angry that nobody seemed to understand how important music was to her and how music was her best friend.

Half way home, still full of anger, she suddenly remembered that she had seen a look-out tower once when she was walking home. "That's it, I'm going to climb that tower" she said to herself. She started to look for it and before long, there it was. To get to it, she had to climb a very steep hill, through a forest of trees, over unfriendly rock formations, but she was still so angry that she barely noticed any of the obstacles. Finally she stood beneath the look-out tower. She left her schoolbag on the ground, grabbed the trumpet case, then with much effort she climbed the tower. Not until she finally stood on the platform of the tower, did she realize just how high the tower was. Standing close to the guardrail on the tower, she looked down on the ground, lifted her trumpet case, and then with an angry scream, she hurled the trumpet case to the ground. Sparkles of metal glimmered like little start bursts as the trumpet broke apart and pieces scattered every which way. Finally the anger that Lisa had felt dissipated. She climbed down. Back on the ground, she collect the pieces, put them in the broken case, pulled the cord out of the hood on her red parka, and tied it all together, then found her way back to the road.

  With her schoolbag over her shoulder, the haphazardly held together trumpet case under one arm, she continued her walk home, and although she knew that there would be dire consequences as a result of her behaviour, she no longer felt angry. She felt as if she had found a kind of inner strength that she never knew she had. At home, waiting for her, was her best friend, and its name was Music.

Music; "it hears your heart, it hears your thoughts, it hears your fears, it hears your hopes," Lisa thought to herself as she saw the warm and inviting lights flowing out into the evening through the windows of her home.