Finding Your Instrument

By Tom Diesel

"We’re all going to learn saxophone!” Denny said. “A quartet!”

Jamal smiled. Yeah. It would be sweet. He always wanted to learn an instrument, and if his friends took saxophone, he guessed he would, too.

“Come over here, guys,” Denny said, directing the four of them to the front of the auditorium. Instruments lay in their cases, the saxophone gleaming like gold in blue velvet. “Look at that beauty! All the cool people play saxophone.”

“Would you like to try it?” asked Mrs. Sohn, the band teacher.

“Of course!” Denny said. He grabbed the instrument and blew on the mouthpiece. It let out a round tone. Denny pressed keys, and the pitch changed. “Hey! I’m a natural!” He strutted like a jazz man.

“Can I try?” asked Jamal. Denny wiped off the mouthpiece and handed the instrument over. Jamal blew, but the sax only hissed.

Mrs. Sohn said, “Press your teeth lightly on the reed, here.”

Jamal tried again. The sax honked ridiculously.

Denny laughed. “You sound like a goose! Hiss! Honk! Spit! Ha ha! You’re going to be last chair sax—that’s for sure.”

“Last chair?” Jamal asked.

“We compete,” Denny said, taking the sax and handing it to another friend. “Whoever’s best gets first chair. Whoever’s worst gets last.”

Jamal nodded, listening to his friends try. Some sounded as ridiculous as him, but they all still made fun of him.

Jamal stepped to the next case. It held a golden twist of tubes with a big, beautiful bell and a long slide.

“It’s called a trombone,” Mrs. Sohn said. “You blow here, making your lips flutter.”

Jamal tried. Right off, a great tone came out.

“We need trombones,” Mrs. Sohn said, smiling.

Denny came over. “What are you doing? We’re all playing saxes.”

“Good for you.” Jamal played another note. “I’m playing trombone.”