The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kristen and I decided to spend the weekend with my parents for a change. This ate into the time I hoped that I’d have to finish doing music arrangements, especially now that I was planning the entertainment for Kristen’s party.

Fortunately for me, Merry was delighted to have Kristen around, the big sister that she always wanted and never had. Merry dragged Kristen to her room to talk girl talk, and I took the opportunity to go downstairs and make a telephone call from the den.

“Hello?” Wendy’s mother answered.

“Hello, Mrs. Jones,” I said. “My name is Jim Crittenhouse. I was wondering if Wendy was home, and if so, may I please talk with her?”

Wendy’s mom seemed a bit surprised at my rather polite delivery, something my mother instilled in me at an early age: Politeness didn’t cost you very much, and was often rewarded. “I’ll see if I can get her, Mr. Crittenhouse.”

I smiled and waited and soon Wendy was on the line. “Hey, Jim! Long time no see!”

“Yeah, Wendy,” I said, a bit sorry. “I’ve got my hands full at school, you know.”

“I can imagine,” Wendy said with a laugh. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you are still seeing Gerry,” I said. “I had an idea, but I don’t have his last name or phone number.”

“Of course, we’re still seeing each other, although we’re not dating... well, we’re not seeing other people, but we know that we won’t be seeing each other after this summer...”

I waited. “Could you give me the information, then?” I finally asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Wendy answered. “Gerry Pembroke.” She also gave me his phone number. “What’s up?”

“I’m planning a birthday party for Kris,” I explained. “I want to invite you and Gerry, but I also wanted to know if Gerry could get his band together for the Saturday after next.”

Wendy thought a moment. “He doesn’t have a gig then. What time?”

“Starts at noon, and we don’t have an end time.”

“Sounds like quite a gig.”

“Oh, he won’t be playing all the time. It’s Kristen’s birthday party—having a band will surprise her! We’ll also have a deejay and I’m thinking of getting the jazz band to play a few songs as well.”

“Sounds way cool, Oogie!”

I grinned at the nickname. “Thanks, Wendy. I’ll give Gerry a call.”

“He’s right here and raring to talk to you.”

Wendy put Gerry on the phone and we talked. It seemed that he came up with the same idea, and was thinking of calling me to do the gig for free. I told him that he’d be paid—Kristen’s parents were footing most of the bills.

After a bit of haggling, I pointed out that most of the other members of his band weren’t necessarily Kristen’s friends, and might not be as willing to forgo getting paid. I could see that Gerry was doomed to live the life of the poor musician.

Finally, Gerry insisted, “Jim, that arrangement you put together for ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ has been a big hit for us and has made us a very popular band in this area. The boys have already insisted on doing your party for free once I found out about the party yesterday. We even canceled a paying gig... that’s how interested they are!”

I wasn’t to be convinced. “Gerry, you don’t know Kristen’s parents. Her father will insist. Take the money and buy her a present, but you won’t win against her father.”

“If you say so,” Gerry finally conceded.

“Thanks, Gerry. Give my love to Wendy, and be sure to bring her to the party! Same to the band... invite their girlfriends.”

“And boyfriends,” Gerry laughed. He had a female who played bass. “No problem, maestro!”

I hung the phone up, satisfied. I walked out of the den and passed my mother.

“How long were you on the phone?” my mother asked.

“Ten minutes tops,” I said, knowing that using the phone was a privilege that you didn’t abuse in our house. I looked upstairs and didn’t see Kristen around. “I am planning some surprises for Kristen’s party. Can you guys come and bring Merry?”

“Is it just going to be kids?” my mother asked.

“No, Kristen’s parents are inviting their friends, and asked me to invite some of the kids from school as well, so there will be lots of people of all ages. You guys will fit in fine.”

“OK. Do you have any idea what we should get her?”

“Nothing expensive, mom,” I said, grinning. All of a sudden, I got an interesting idea. “I know Kris likes chocolate covered peanuts. Do you know that place in the mall near the food court?”

“Candy?” my mother asked, a bit astonished.

“It’s one of her favorites, Mom,” I assured her. “I promise you, she’ll love it.”

Our conversation was cut short when we heard Merry bounding down the stairs.

“Mommy!” Merry shouted.

“What’s up, dear?”

“Kristen invited our family over to her birthday party the weekend after next! Her parents are inviting some friends, and wanted you to come.”

“Huh?” my mother asked, completely surprised.

Kristen descended the stairs a bit more gracefully than Merry’s attempt a moment earlier. “My dad always throws a party for my birthday. It’s not a surprise. He asked me to invite your entire family. I know that Jim will be there, and I’d love the rest of you to come as well.”

My mother looked at me as if the world suddenly turned upside down. I just shrugged. “Kristen’s mom likes ’Moon River,’” I said. “The deejay will probably have Andy Williams.”

It was Kristen’s turn to be surprised. “Um... yes she does. How did you know that, Oogie?”

“I played it for her at your house once, remember?” I asked, having prepared for the question and wisely not directly answering it.

Merry didn’t like the fact that the conversation shifted subject slightly. “So, how about it, Mom?”

My mother said, “I’ll have to ask your dad...”

That was Merry’s cue to take off and go into the garage to pester her father. The three of us laughed at her.

“We don’t have anything else planned,” Mom said. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t attend.”

“It will be on Saturday at the American Legion Hall on Main Street, and it starts at noon,” Kristen informed my mother.

My mother was about to say something when Merry stormed back into the living room. “Daddy said ‘yes!’”

“I guess we’re going,” my mother said, grinning.

“Yeah!” Merry shouted, all full of exuberance.

“Hey, Merry,” Kristen said. “Would you like to go to the mall?”

“Sh...” Merry said, and interrupted herself, remembering where she was and she turned sheepishly to my mother, and corrected herself. “I mean, may I, Mommy?”

My mother smiled and said, “Sure, Merry. We’ll be having dinner at six. Can you be back by five so you can help with the salad?”

“That won’t be a problem, Mrs. Cummings,” Kristen answered. “Are there any groceries or anything that you would like me to pick up?”

My mother looked a bit taken aback. “I... um... it never even occurred to me that anybody would...” She stopped and looked thoughtful. “Do you think you can pick up some Italian bread?”

“No problem,” Kristen said. “There’s a bakery near...”

“Oh, pooh!” Mom said. “It’s cheaper at the grocery store.”

“But the bakery has better quality. Your spaghetti sauce deserves the best, Mrs. Cummings.”

Again, my mother was impressed. “If you insist...”

“I insist,” Kristen said firmly.

Kristen, Merry, and I walked out through the foyer and outside. As we approached the car, Kristen turned to me “Jim, I was thinking of taking Merry to Martin’s.”

Martin’s was an upscale dress store in the mall that Kristen was particularly fond of patronizing. That kind of shopping didn’t really appeal to me, and Kristen’s explanation was a cue to me that I might not want to go with the two of them. I said, “I have some arrangements that I’d like to work on, if you don’t really need me.”

Kristen apparently expected my response. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and told Merry to sit in the front.

I felt a little disappointed that I wasn’t with Kristen, but maybe Kris and Merry wanted some private time together. I wouldn’t deny them the opportunity, and I did have quite a lot of work that I made for myself that I needed to get done, especially with a deadline in less than two weeks.

After the Camaro left, my step-father noticed that I was still in the driveway. “Kristen left you?”

“She’s taking Merry to the mall. I have some music to arrange.”

“Will she be around for dinner?” he asked, thinking that there may have been something wrong.

“They’ll both be here at five,” I assured him.

“OK, son.”

I smiled at him, and thought about our relationship. I liked the man, and he was a good husband to my mother. He doted on Merry and although he thought that teenage boys should have a firmer hand guiding them than I preferred, he was ultimately fair.

His daughter, Merry, and I were much closer. I actually enjoyed being around her. I could even say that I loved her. I wondered why I couldn’t apply that verb to my relationship with my step-father. Somehow, we never really clicked that way. As I said, he was a decent man, but I would never call him “father.” There was just too much bad history with another person with that title for me to apply it to any warm blooded creature.

My plans for a few hours’ time alone writing music were dashed when the doorbell rang about an hour and a half after Kristen left.

My mother answered the door, and then came upstairs after she found herself unsuccessful in arousing me. I was in my bedroom with my headphones on with my electric piano on a stand that my step-father and I put together with spare lumber in the garage during my Christmas vacation.

I was startled when somebody tapped my shoulder, and I turned around quickly, startling my mother. “I’m sorry, Jim. You have more company.”

I ran downstairs to see Camille and Patty in the living room.

“Hey, Jim!” the girls said.

“Hey you guys. What’s up?”

“Is Kristen here?” Patty asked.

“No. She’s at the mall with Merry. Were you looking for her?”

Both girls seemed relieved. “We thought so,” Patty said. “We didn’t see the Camaro and were hoping you’d be home. We rarely see you without Kristen on weekends.”

“What’s up?”

Camille noticed my mother coming down the stairs. “Can we go for a ride?”

I looked at my mother, who only shrugged at me. “I need to be back before five.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Patty said.

I was intrigued and wondered what the two girls were up to.

Camille’s red Corolla was parked in the driveway. Patty indicated that I take the front seat, and she sat behind me.

Camille backed out of the driveway and said, “Jim, the two of us would like to thank you for your efforts to bring Patty and I closer together.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”

“Bullshit!” Patty said, laughing. “You’re modest, and that’s what we all love about you. We spent all day Thursday just talking. It’s as if we became best friends all over again!”

“You did it yourselves,” I said, not wanting to take the credit.

“Anyway, that’s not why we kidnapped you,” Camille said.

“Kidnap?” I said. I saw humor in Camille’s eyes, though.

“Wendy called Cammy and told her about Kristen’s party,” Patty said, ignoring Camille. “We wanted to know if we could do anything to help?”

“I was trying to write some arrangements for some rock and roll and Henry Mancini songs for the jazz band to play at the party when you girls kidnapped me!”

“Oh,” Patty said, suddenly thoughtful. She seemed as if she was ready to say something, but held her tongue.

I sighed, figuring that I might actually have to end up staying up late a few nights to get them done. There were only two weeks, and two Thursday afternoons for the band to practice. There was also the problem of keeping Kristen from those practice sessions.

Suddenly, another idea formed. “Patty, Cammy... could you hijack Kristen for the next two Thursday afternoons? I would like the band to play some special music for her party and we need to practice.”

Camille frowned. “Cheerleader practice on Thursdays...”

Patty said, “I can come up with a couple of ideas, but she will be suspicious if I do it two weeks in a row.”

I agreed. “You’re probably right. Maybe just the Thursday after next.”

“I can come up with something,” Patty said.

I turned to look at Patty and saw a sly grin on her face. “Anyway, both of you are invited, with your boyfriends, if you have them.”

“You hinted that the jazz band will be there,” Patty said. “That’s who I would have invited.”

Camille smirked. “You’re dating the entire band? That sounds like one of my tricks!”

Patty and I laughed at that.

I was still confused about where Patty and Camille were taking me. We were heading toward the center of town.

Camille found a parking spot on Main Street. I was familiar with that area, but didn’t have any idea what their intentions were.

Patty and Camille led me to a door that read “American Legion.”

“This is where Kristen’s dad is having the party...”

“He hired it this weekend, too,” Patty said.

“Huh?”

“Go upstairs,” Camille directed.

Upstairs, a good majority of the jazz band, as well as a couple of extra people from the chorus and some other friends were assembled. There were some instruments. Even Amy Grant was situated behind an old upright piano that looked as if it was part of the legion hall.

Toby walked over to me and said, “Hey, Jim! Mr. Swift rented us the room for the next two weekends so we could practice here before the party.”

“Huh?” I said, still not comprehending.

“Hey, son!” came a voice behind me. It was Kristen’s father.

“Mr. Swift?” I asked.

“In the flesh,” Kristen’s father answered. “Your friend is correct. I rented this hall for the next couple of Saturdays.”

“Why?”

“One thing we’ve never told you was that Charley was a musician when she was younger,” Mr. Swift explained. “She suggested rehearsing at the site so you can get a good feeling on how the hall ‘sounds,’ or something like that.”

“Cool!” I said, thinking that it was an excellent suggestion. “How did you get the band together?”

“I called your school, asking for your music teacher. He managed to contact most of the students, and others contacted the ones he couldn’t. We didn’t get everybody, but we should have everybody here next week.”

Wendy came over. “I called Camille, and Patty was over at her house. I explained and they decided to see if they could wrest you from Kristen.”

Kristen’s father smiled. “How did they pry the two of you apart, Jim?”

“Kris went to Martin’s with Merry. I was working on arrangements for the party...”

“Do you have them?” asked Gerry.

“Unfortunately, no,” I said, sadly. “I wasn’t told where I was being taken.”

“Cammy and I thought we’d surprise you,” Patty said, apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were working on stuff for the party already.”

“Is there a phone here?” I asked.

Kristen’s father nodded, and pointed downstairs. “You can use the one in the office. They’ll know you’re with me.”

“Camille? Can you drive back to my house and pick up some stuff from my mother?”

“Sure,” Camille said.

Camille followed me as I ran downstairs and called my house. I got my mom and asked her to get some music books and the stuff that were on my keyboard in my room. I would have Camille stop by to pick them up.

“I think I have things under control, Mr. Swift. Thanks for making the effort!”

“No problem, Jim. I need to run.”

“OK. Thanks!” I shook his hand and looked over the students, who more or less set up their seats much the same as if they were in the music room.

I told the people to reorganize the chairs toward the front of the room where they would be playing. If we were going to be learning the acoustics of the room, we should do so in the same area where we would be performing at the party.

I found Sam, who played the string bass, and asked him if he knew the Peter Gunn theme. He wasn’t sure, so I went over to Amy’s upright piano and started playing the theme from memory, choosing the key of G. BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum...

Sam recognized the tune and picked it up almost at once.

Without a cue from me, at the right time, one of the trumpet players and Bill, the best trombone player in the school, automatically joined in on the third phrase. Soon, the drum kit came to life, and you could hear the entire room shake as people started to join in. Amy was even duplicating the bass line that I originally started.

“Hell, who needs arrangements?” I giggled to myself.

Patty, Wendy, and a lot of the chorus members were looking at me with their mouths hanging open.

I cued the band to start the song over. This time, Gerry plugged in his guitar, and I asked him to join in on the bass line, which was being overpowered by the rest of the band. I explained how I wanted the theme to get louder (crescendo) and softer (diminuendo) for each phrase, and showed Toby the correct fingering of the triplets near the end of the phrase.

Back in front of the band, I said we’d be doing eight-bar solos for the third repeat, with only the people doing the bass line maintaining the song. I asked for volunteers and assigned solos. I was surprised when Amy volunteered and gave her a spot in the solos.

Patty tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Jim. But is this the first time they played this?”

“They didn’t even know the name of the song before I started playing the bass line,” I said with a grin.

“Not true,” Bill said. “I’ve played this before.”

“Do you have any arrangements?”

“Not in this key.”

“Shit. Which key?”

Bill thought a moment. “One full step down.”

“F?”

“On a trombone.”

I nodded. “Which instruments do you have music for?”

“Two-part sheets for trombone. I think there’s a three-part sheet for trumpet and three-part for sax.”

I asked the group. “Would one step down be easier?”

There were general nods all around. Amy looked confused.

I smiled at the junior and showed her the bass line. As I did, Sam and Gerry played along. Once again, the entire band joined in, much better this time.

I was glad that Bill told me the right key. I made a mental note to ask for help next time before going off on my own.

I cued the band through two repeats and the solos began. Bill was great, as I expected. Following him was a sax solo, and then Gerry switched from the bass line to a lead guitar riff. Amy followed, a bit shaky, but doing a great effort for her first time. She was followed by a kick-ass drum solo.

We played the song two more times, and the solos significantly improved. I told the band to take five, and looked around the room. I knew that I’d need some additional music to allow the chorus members to be useful, and I found, to my delight, that Camille arrived with the stuff that I requested.

“Camille? Did my mom give you any music books?”

In response, Camille held up a stack of books.

I walked over and quickly found ”Moon River“ and placed it on the piano. The same book also contained the love theme from ’Romeo and Juliet’ as well. Both were Mancini tunes.

I rejected another Mancini song, ”Baby Elephant Walk,” since I didn’t have a piccolo or calliope, which was more or less essential for that song.

One of the books I owned was a “fake book,” which just was music with a melody line, chords, and lyrics. There was also a music notebook with “fake” arrangements that I wrote myself for other songs. I figured that we should play a few more “standards” and quickly found an old Jack Jones song, ”Lollipops and Roses.” I thought of the lyrics and figured it would satisfy the old people and might mean something special to my special blonde Goddess.

I went to the singers and asked for soloists for the three songs that I selected. I got volunteers for the Mancini numbers, but nobody seemed to know (or want to sing) the ”Lollipops and Roses.”

“You sing it, Jim,” said Roy, a friend of mine with a voice that people said sounded like mine. “If you want, I can help you double track it the way we did on ’Hooked on a Feeling.’”

“I don’t know if it’s in my range,” I said, looking cautiously at the notes.

Roy looked at the fake book. “It definitely is, Jim.”

“It’s not my style.”

“Bullshit.”

One thing about my band: nobody hesitated in calling me to task if they disagreed with me.

“OK. I’m afraid that people would...” I let the thought hang. I was about to say that I was afraid of making a fool of myself, that people would laugh. I knew that this was never a good excuse not to participate. Roy himself was shaking his head at me.

“OK. I figured we’d do the Ouga Chaka song...”

“We could do that one, also. Bill told me that Mr. Proilet made them practice that a couple of weeks ago.”

Bill was close by. “The song sounded eery without the chorus, but Mr. Proilet told the clarinets to play the melody almost half a beat behind, making it sound as if the brass was dragging the winds behind them.”

“Really? That sounds weird,” I said, impressed.

“We have enough for the chants today, though,” Roy pointed out.

Bill looked at the fake book. “’Lollipops and Roses’ looks like a piano, bass, and drum song with a soloist.”

I sighed, having hoped that song would have been forgotten.

“Jim’s going to do the solo,” Roy decided. “Maybe Stacy can do the second. I’ve heard the song, I think. The bridge follows, and should be a duet. Final verse should be Jim, the bridge is repeated as an instrumental solo, and the repeat of the final verse could be a duet.”

“It sounds as though you want to arrange it,” I said dryly, shaking my head.

“I can arrange that,” Bill said. “I could arrange that for the three parts and allow a couple of four-bar solos for the second bridge. Do you have a copy of the record?”

I thought my mom might have one, but Camille answered. “My mom has that one. Come over my house and I’ll loan it to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” Bill said, grinning.

I sighed. I was just drafted to sing a solo. I hoped that my voice did justice to the song. I called the group back together, and we started to work out the songs that I picked out, intentionally avoiding ”Lollipops and Roses.”

At least there was somebody else helping with an arrangement.

I saw Kristen’s car in the driveway when Camille dropped me off at my house a few minutes past five. I asked Camille to hold my arrangements for me until I could come over and get them, and she agreed.

“So, you went out on a date while Merry and I were buying dresses?” Kristen said, smiling, as I entered my house.

“Double date,” I answered. “Patty and Camille.”

“My Romeo!” Kristen laughed, kissing me fully on the lips, not minding that my family was in sight.

I was a bit taken aback by Kristen’s calling me Romeo, due to the fact that one of the last songs we rehearsed was the love theme from the movie. I wondered if Kristen suspected what I was doing.

There were no other questions asked about where I went, though. The meal was quite nice, and Kristen spent the night in my room.

Sunday, Kristen and I visited the flea market, and afterward, there was little difficulty inviting my parents and Merry to Vaughn’s for lunch and Merry’s Belly Buster dessert.

I spent the rest of my spare time that week writing arrangements for the various songs for the jazz band.

On Thursday, after school, Amy and Kristen found me and told me that they needed to go somewhere and that Amy wouldn’t be able to attend rehearsal. I didn’t ask Amy to hijack Kristen, but I knew that was her intent. I told her that I didn’t mind and that I’d do her solos for her. As they left, I was glad that Amy did this for me.

My music teacher, Mr. Proilet, was in the music room as the band started out playing the ”Peter Gunn“ theme. Almost immediately, Mr. Proilet signaled me to stop.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“This isn’t the first time these people have played this. I know that Bill and a couple of the saxes played this last year, but that was in competition. When did they find time to rehearse?”

I smiled. “Kristen’s dad rented the Legion Hall last Saturday and next Saturday to allow us to rehearse on site.”

My music teacher looked impressed. “Would you mind if I attend next Saturday’s rehearsal?”

I shrugged. “It may help, especially if I can’t get away from Kristen.”

Almost immediately, Mr. Proilet looked at the empty piano. “Where is Amy?”

“She’s running interference with Kristen today.”

“Think you can handle this without your muse?”

I ignored my music teacher’s remarks as well as the snickers that accompanied it. “’Peter Gunn,’ from the top,” I said, playing conductor again.

The song didn’t sound as good without the piano, so I signaled Mr. Proilet to take over as I took Amy’s place behind the piano.

I almost missed my cue for the third solo, thinking it was Amy’s part. I recovered quickly, though, and the song went to the end.

“Pretty good,” commented Mr. Proilet. “Piano solo was a bit weak.”

This caused everybody to laugh. Apparently, any sign of weakness on my behalf was appreciated by most everybody.

I alternated conducting and piano with Mr. Proilet with the other Mancini numbers until Roy pointed out that we didn’t do the Lollipops song yet.

“Lollipops?” Mr. Proilet asked.

“The Jack Jones song,” I admitted. “We haven’t practiced that one.”

“Why not?” the music teacher demanded.

“Jim’s afraid of doing the solo,” Roy explained.

I sighed. “’Lollipops,’ everybody,” I said, biting the bullet.

Bill handed the conductor’s score for the song to my teacher. I knew the melody, but was surprised when Bill handed me a completely different arrangement for piano. Only the voices would be carrying the melody except for the introduction.

I was behind the piano. There wasn’t any microphone, so I simply played the solo introduction and started to sing.

After the first line, Mr. Proilet tapped his baton, signaling me to stop. He instructed Roy to bring a mike over to me, and to double-track me live. There was also another girl set up to back Stacy in the same way.

Once again, he signaled me to start.

When I heard Roy accompany me, I felt much better. The band came in, and I was surprised at how good the song was going.

I almost forgot that the second verse was the female solo, but Roy saw that and quickly signaled me before I made a fool of myself. It was much easier playing the piano harmony when it was backing Stacy than when I was singing melody.

The second verse was followed by our duet bridge, and Roy and I took the final verse.

Toby took the first four-bar solo, and did rather well. The rest of the solos followed, followed by Stacy and I doing the final duet.

“Great arrangement,” Mr. Proilet said, looking at me.

“Roy actually came up with the concept, and Bill did the actual arranging,” I pointed out.

“Great work, all of you,” the teacher said. “Can we try it again from the first bridge?”

I was able to attend Saturday’s rehearsal, because Kristen’s parents ran interference for me. We brought the sound systems this weekend, and we decided to play a complete set one time through in order to get a feel of what the program would be. Patty and Camille were assigned as our official timers, and they were given stopwatches and told to indicate the start and end times for each song.

“We’re not going to stop for mistakes,” I told the band.

“Who’s going to announce the band?” Roy asked.

I didn’t think of that. “Mr. Proilet?” I asked, looking at my music teacher.

“No problem.”

I turned to Patty and Camille. “Time the intro as well.”

“What do we call the band?” Mr. Proilet asked.

That was another thing we never discussed.

Without missing a band, Camille answered, “The Oogie Woogie Impromptu Jazz Band.”

This was greeted by laughter by everybody.

“How appropriate!” my music teacher said, laughing.

There was a curtain behind the stage set up, and we all were back there with our chairs, stands, and instruments. The chorus members helped out with some of the equipment as well.

Using the backstage mike, Mr. Proilet took a deep breath and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention? I have the privilege to introduce to you, fresh from their successful engagement at the high school Christmas concert, Jim Crittenhouse and the one and only Oogie Woogie Impromptu Jazz Band!”

That was our cue to come on stage and set up quickly. I took my spot behind the podium, facing the audience. It was Camille’s job to get the signal from Mr. Proilet and to signal me when the group was ready.

I started my prepared speech. “Thank you, everybody. Our first four numbers are standards that everybody should know from the inimitable Henry Mancini. Those will be followed by a love song and our final number will be something that will really rock the house. Those of you over the age of thirty have been warned.”

Camille gave me her nod and I smiled. I turned around and tapped my baton four times.

Amy, Sam, and Gerry started playing the ”Peter Gunn“ bass line and I smiled. Things were sounding very nicely.

When Roy took the solo for ”Moon River,” it actually brought tears to my eyes. His voice wasn’t the same as Andy Williams’, but he handled the lovely Johnny Mercer lyrics just fine.

Stacy did the lead for ”Romeo and Juliet,” and Lynn joined her in harmony for the bridge, their voices intertwining beautifully together, like angels.

For the next song, ”Pink Panther Theme,” I signaled Amy to start the song. The woodwinds really liked this particular number, and I got a very funky rendition. It was our most polished piece, since the band played this many times before.

During the ”Pink Panther,” Roy came over with the microphone. I originally hoped that I could sit and hide behind the piano as I did on Thursday, but it wasn’t to be. Besides, I couldn’t take Amy away from her rightful place behind the ivories.

Mr. Proilet took over the conducting for ”Lollipops,” and Roy and I sang the first verse. Unfortunately, our mikes weren’t live, but that was quickly fixed by somebody in the sound crew. We kept singing anyway, knowing that the set needed to be done in one take no matter what.

Toby’s solo during the bridge was extremely nice and melodic and I was secretly proud of him. The duet on the repeated final verse sounded very nice to my ears as well.

After that song, I was ready to take over the podium when Mr. Proilet abruptly signaled the chorus, which started the “Ouga Chaka” changes. I forgot that Mr. Proilet told me that he was going to conduct during my solos.

During ”Hooked on a Feeling,” Roy kept looking at me strangely. For some reason, our voices weren’t as together as they were during ”Lollipops.” Both of us knew there was a problem, and it took me a few moments to realize what the problem was.

I closed my eyes, but kept looking where I knew Camille and Patty were standing. Instead of them, however, I imagined Kristen standing there, smiling at me with that loving look in her eyes.

During the final verse, Roy and I were together again. I felt infinitely better and we finished the song very strongly.

As soon as the song ended, I signaled to Camille and Patty to stop their watches. They did, and came up to me.

Before they arrived, Mr. Proilet said, “I’m glad Kristen showed up, even if only in your mind, Jim.”

I knew exactly what my music teacher was referring to. I simply nodded.

“Twenty-six minutes, Jim!” Patty and Camille said.

“Cool. Just under a half hour. A standard set is, what? Forty five minutes? That gives us time between numbers.” I turned to my music teacher. “’Hooked on a Feeling’ sounds better with the winds dragging, Mr. Proilet. That was a great suggestion!”

“What do you have when they ask for an encore?” Mr. Proilet asked.

“Huh?” I asked.

“When you do a set like that, you must always be prepared for an encore. Even if you’re not asked, it’s best to have something ready.”

Gerry, who came up to the podium, agreed.

“Hmmm, most of what we’ve been doing last semester was Christmas music,” I said. “Most people don’t associate ’Linus and Lucy’ with Christmas, but...”

Bill offered a suggestion. “The orchestra is doing ’Porgy and Bess’ later this year. We have a few members of the orchestra and some of the chorus people know the songs as well.”

“Hmmm,” I considered. “How about ’Summertime?’ Wrong season?”

“Not bad. Pretty jazzy, actually,” Mr. Proilet said. “I’ll see if I can get copies of the orchestral version to you on Monday. How about Cole Porter? The band did ’Anything Goes’ a couple of years ago.”

I actually forgot about that. At the time, I was “on loan” to the high school band for that performance where Mr. Proilet originally thought of me as a prima-donna. “Cool,” I said, smiling.

“Sorry, dude,” said one of the seniors that was working the sound. “I accidentally kicked out the cable.”

“You fixed it quickly, though,” I said, smiling.

“You can be damn well sure it will work next weekend.”

“Cool,” I repeated.

I was looking at the timings that Camille and Patty compiled. I noticed the longest gap between songs was when Mr. Proilet took over before ”Lollipops.”

My music teacher was looking over the timings as well. “Do you think we should put a couple of the Mancini songs last?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “They are all part of a matched set, so to speak. Even though I’m not behind the podium at the end, I think we should end with the rocker.”

Most of the people with me agreed with that. I think Mr. Proilet thought it would have been better with me behind the podium at the start and finish of the set. I didn’t think it was that necessary. This was just a small gathering of friends and relatives.

We did the set a couple more times, each time playing through from start to finish. Camille and Patty checked the timings, but the set didn’t vary by more than a minute either way.