“…and they had all kinds of different music..”

“What kind of music did the teacher band play?”

It had been a high school event called Battle of the bands. A lot of different bands I had never heard of were playing, and somewhere at the end there was a band composed of teachers. Her music teacher was part of it.

“I don’t know. I mean, there were a lot of teachers in the band and I didn’t stay around to hear that much of it. “

“You didn’t stay around to hear your teacher? How could you miss his performance? He probably was looking forward to his moment.”

“Mother, I don’t think so. I mean, he plays the trumpet. What kind of band uses of trumpet?”

“How can you say that? You know a lot of bands that use trumpets. You were in Jazz band in Junior high. Your teacher probably has been looking forward to this day for months. He was going to do his OWN music, and perform. How do you know this wasn’t his dream before he became a music teacher?”

She stared at me.

“Right now, he is at home, thinking of how much he loved performing.”

“Mother, that can’t be true. He has little kids.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. His kids are trying to sleep, and he is holding his trumpet, feeling and remembering. He can’t play because of them, he has to put it aside.

But tonight, on this night…The night he played his own music, he feels it.

I can see him, taking his trumpet outside. HE has to go far away, down the block to sit on the swings at the park, in the dark. He’s playing his trumpet right now…blowing his heart and soul out on this night of nights…”


“You are completely wrong. Your imagination is not what is happening.”

“I don’t think so…Your teacher has dreams too.”

“I’m going to bed,” She flounced away to the bathroom.

I smiled at her, and in sympathy to my imagined horn player alone with his dreams in the dark.


It was night, but there was still time. I went over to my computer to use the last few minutes of the day to work on a chapter in my book draft.