Reading practice 1
Monique was enjoying this afternoon more than she had1 anticipated. Often, the tryouts for the spring musical tested the limits of her patience and nerves, with one hopeful girl after the next taking turns strutting onto the tarnished wooden stage delivering a competent but uninspired version of some Rodgers & Hammerstein number, and then being politely excused by Mrs. Dominguez as the next name on the list was called.
However, this was to be Monique's third straight year in the musical, and the confidence that her seniority afforded her around the more nervous newcomers2 allowed her to bask in the radiance of her own poise.
She had already sung her audition song an hour ago, commencing the day's ceremonies. This year, Monique used "God Bless the Child," a choice she found to be quite sophisticated since Billie Holiday's version of it was familiar mostly to adults, and even then, mostly to adults of the previous generation. More importantly, it required a reserved performance, which Monique felt showcased her maturity, especially because most of the other auditioners chose songs that would show their enthusiasm, even if3 it meant their technical mastery would not be on full display.
Normally, the first audition slot was dreaded by most. Mrs. Dominguez would ask if anyone wanted to volunteer to "get it over with," but no one would make a sound. Then, she would call the first name off her list and the room would drop into an uncomfortably solemn silence as the first student walked nervously up to the stage. Monique often imagined during those moments that she was witness to a death-row inmate taking his inexorable march toward a quick curtain.4
But not this year. Monique had decided to make a show of her own self-confidence by volunteering to go first. Such a defiantly fearless act, she had figured, would probably instill even more fear into her competition because they would realize that Monique had something they clearly lacked. Mrs. Dominguez had seemed neither surprised nor charmed by Monique's decision to go first. Although she was annoyed by Monique's escalating arrogance, she also acknowledged that Monique was one of the more talented actors and was probably correct in assuming herself a shoo-in.
At this late stage of the afternoon, Monique felt like a monarch, sitting in the back of the auditorium with her royal court of friends and admirers. They took care to sit far enough away from Mrs. Dominguez that they would not be caught in the act of belittling5 the other students' auditions.
To Monique, the endless parade of aspirants who sang their hearts out for three minutes each were like jesters performing for her amusement. As Mrs. Dominguez read Esperanza Solito's name off her list, Monique and her entourage prepared themselves for a special treat.
Esperanza was one of the most awkward students at Thornton High. Her caramel-colored face was usually hidden behind thick tortoise shell glasses. Her wavy black hair exploded off her scalp like a snapshot of an atom bomb. She wore clothing that looked like it had spent years in a musty attic. Understanding her debased position on the social totem pole, Esperanza scurried through the high school's hallways with her eyes looking narrowly at the back of the person walking in front of her, trying to disappear within the herd lest she be recognized by any malicious onlookers as easy prey.6
Esperanza had been sitting alone in the front row, paying little attention to the other auditions, working on geometry homework until her name was called. Shuffling her feet toward the center of the stage, Esperanza did not look up until she was there, and even then looked only at Mrs. Dominguez.7
"Whenever you're ready," Mrs. Dominguez said politely, sensing the potential for this audition to devolve into a painful target of ridicule.
As Esperanza began the opening notes to "The Star Spangled Banner," Monique and her friends looked at each other in total disbelief. Clearly, they thought, Esperanza had no theater pedigree, or she would never stoop to singing such a trite, formulaic song. Standing perfectly still, Esperanza moved methodically through the tune with little flair or emotion. However, the expectant smiles of mockery were quickly vanishing from the faces of all who listened.
Anticipating a tentative, mousy voice that would befit such a quirky presence as Esperanza's, the audience instead heard an unusually smooth, rich tone with full command of the multiple registers that the national anthem's melody requires. At the climactic "rocket's red glare," Esperanza's voice filled the room with a calm resonance that forced one's heart to lift within one's chest as though some reluctant patriotism was determined to find its way out. The final phrase of the song, so often soaked in vibrato by melodramatic singers,8 was gently performed, with a touch that felt like a mother tucking in her baby to sleep.
Although Monique was loath to admit it and Esperanza was reluctant to want it, Esperanza had just set herself apart from the herd.9
