Part 19 (1/2)

Thank G.o.d, you came. If you love me, please don't ever let me go.

I mean every word. Does he? Is that why he chose this song? He comes in and our voices wind together.

All my life I gotta be about you.

Can't sleep, can't dream without you.

It's a fairy-tale vision for two. It's you. It's you.

My eyes open. I get a break while he sings.

I raise a kaleidoscope up to my eye,

Twist it once and watch the bright colors fly,

And the picture is so clear-

He cups my cheek with his free hand. It's gotta be you.

He gets me swaying with him during the orchestral interlude. I probably look like a tree. We sing, It's you, you, back and forth to each other. And then he does a run.

By the second verse, we're moving in sync with the music, touching each other. Honest, pa.s.sionate, Derek sings- The way you kiss, the way you sing,

The way you tell me everything.

Will you take my heart? ”

He puts my hand on his chest and holds it there. I'm offering it to you? I feel his heart pumping. The spotlight makes him glow.

I feel your love-it beats so strong,

I' ll walk with you until the dawn.

He smiles. I slide my hand up to his face and trace his lips while I sing, Now I love only as long as I sing you, you.

Derek takes my hand and swings it with the beat. You, you, I echo him. Then we're singing the chorus again together. The Primus Amabile guys back us up. I'm totally into it. Instead of fearing the audience, I'm drinking in their appreciation. Major rush. Powerful. It twists with the feeling that's pouring off Derek, and I'm ready for the dramatic second refrain.

Derek and I don't worry about the words. The guys have it. We improvise runs up and around, chasing each other's voice. Derek singing, Oh, baby, you.

I get, Whoa-ooh, you-oo. At the end it all comes together. Our back up Amabile guys drop out. My voice blends with Derek's in the final throbbing phrase. It's gotta be, it's gotta be about you.

Applause washes over us. Derek kisses me, and the place goes nuts.

chapter 14.

WINNERS.

Derek and the rest of the Amabile guys shred whatever decorum was left after the concert last night before the closing ceremony can even get under way this morning. It starts out with all the choirs waving flags and trying to outsing one another's national anthem. Derek and his friends notch it up to raucous when they get up and run around the arena waving a giant Canadian flag. That bright-red cloth with the red maple leaf in the middle is like a matador's cape. And the bulls can't resist coming after it.

The Aussies get up. Then the Chinese. The Russians, Italians, Irish. Soon a mini UN pours onto the floor. Leah and Meadow pull me with them. Sarah and about fifteen other girls follow. We plunge into the craziness, get swept into the current of choristers and national pride. Leah and I have our big flag. Everyone else has the small flags from the opening ceremony. Major red, white, and blue.

The national anthem singing continues, gets louder. The running wilder. Lots of pus.h.i.+ng. A total rush. Nothing like the rush I got onstage with Derek last night, but running in a crazy mob of happy humanity is cool. The only thing better would be Derek beside me in this sweaty, pulsing ma.s.s. That would make it hot. I sort of amaze myself. Who knew I could think like this?

”The judges have made their decisions,” blares on max over the sound system. ”TAKE YOUR SEATS.” After three tries, our compet.i.tive natures get the better of us, and we flood into the rows.

The announcements start with the mixed-voice youth choirs. SATB-guys and girls. A choir from a music school in Poland wins.

One of our judges comes to the mike. ”The bronze medal choirs in the single-voice youth category are . . .”

I hold my breath. Terri has her head down. We're all like that-united in tension. In the Choral Olympics every choir gets a bronze, silver, or gold. It would be so humiliating to get bronze. Phew. He's announcing the silvers now. I see Terri relax. Her head comes up. Silver would be respectable.

Meadow squeals out loud when the judge says, ”And now for our gold medal choirs,” without announcing Bliss Youth Singers of Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. Terri shushes her, but she's smiling all over the place and giving us two thumbs-up.

Gold. We got gold. Terri's counting so she can figure out what place we end up. In addition to the medal category, they announce in order-from worst to best. If we break into the top ten, she thinks we can get funding from an arts commission for a CD.

As the judge continues without calling our name, we're having a hard time containing ourselves. Squirming, crying, suppressed celebrating. Another choir. Still not us. Another choir. Still not us.

Meadow bends over with her arms wrapped around her stomach, chanting, ”We won. We won. We won.”

The judge pauses and looks around the room. ”The top three choirs are Amabile Young Men's Ensemble, London, Ontario, Canada; Expressly Haiku from Kyoto, j.a.pan; and Bliss Youth Singers, Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA.” Applause and cheering. We're going crazy jumping up and down, hugging each other, screaming.