A Simple Song (17 page)

“That's a lot of words,” Katrina said.

“We'll break it into parts,” Breezy suggested, “so no one has to memorize the whole thing.” Suddenly she was assigning sections and working on an arrangement. How she knew how to do this was a mystery to Katrina, but she didn't argue with her. When Cowboy returned, they started to practice, singing along with the iPad until they mostly had their words and their parts down. It was getting very late, and Katrina knew she needed to go to bed.

“I think it's quitting time,” Tyler said.

As usual, Breezy resisted, but eventually the other three convinced her that they'd be fresher and more clear-headed in the morning, and they called it a night.

“I almost forgot you were Amish,” Breezy told Katrina as they were walking to their room. “You seemed like just a normal girl tonight.”

Katrina looked down at the strange and colorful dress, wondering how a garment could make a person seem like someone else. The truth was, she hadn't felt Amish tonight. Not that she'd exactly felt English either. Maybe she was just caught between the two worlds . . . slowly slipping between the cracks.

The next morning, Katrina felt more like herself as she and Aunt Alma ate breakfast in the dimly lit room. This had become their routine: rising early and quietly dressing, tiptoeing around as Breezy slept, eating breakfast, cleaning up. At seven thirty they would open the heavy drapes, letting the light shine in, and Katrina would nudge Breezy and tell her it was time to get up.

“Are you sure you don't want some breakfast?” Aunt Alma asked, just like she always did. “We have plenty of food to share.”

“No way.” Breezy yawned. “I don't know how y'all eat breakfast every morning like you do.”

“I don't know how you can keep on going eating as little as you do.” Aunt Alma shook her head.

“Trust me, I would be fat as a pig if I ate as much as Katrina,” Breezy said as she went into the bathroom.

Katrina and Aunt Alma made Breezy's bed and tidied up a bit more before they headed downstairs to take a little walk around the hotel. As they walked, Katrina told her aunt of her new resolve. “I'm going to compete as myself from now
on,” she said. “I'm going to wear my own clothes, and I refuse to compromise.”

Aunt Alma just nodded.

“If I can't win just being myself, I don't deserve to win.” They had finished the whole big loop and were back near the elevators. By now Katrina had convinced her aunt that she didn't need to act like Katrina's personal security guard, especially now that they'd be riding the shuttle bus to the
American Star
studio, so when they saw Breezy emerge from the elevator, Aunt Alma said she was going to the little grocery store. But as she left, Katrina noticed a sad and slightly lost expression in her aunt's eyes. Kind of how Katrina felt most of the time.

“Ready to rock and roll?” Breezy said as she joined Katrina.

“Rock and roll?”

“Never mind.” Breezy laughed as they walked out to where the bus was waiting to take them to the studio.

As they sat down on the bus, Breezy began to chatter at her. “I dreamed about the lady who is buying the stairway to heaven last night. Can you believe it? In my dream this rich woman who looked just like Carrie Underwood had a giant handbag, and she was shopping for stars in heaven. I tried to sell her some plastic stars, but she didn't want what I was peddling—so I started singing to her. That's when I woke up with a whole new song going through my head. Too bad I didn't have time to write it down. It was actually pretty good.”

“Are you a songwriter?”

“Yeah. I've got a whole notebook full of songs that I hope to record someday.” She frowned. “Man, I wish I'd brought my guitar on the plane. I really miss it.”

“Why didn't you bring it?”

“Because I had so much clothes and stuff I wanted to get out here. So I had my mom ship my guitar to me. It should be here by now. Remind me to check for it at the desk later.”

Before long they were at the studio, which was massive but plain-looking—until they got inside, where there was a huge stage with rows and rows of seats encircling it. Cameras and lights were everywhere, and crews of people were scrambling about. Before long their group found a quiet corner backstage where they could practice. Later the groups would take turns rehearsing on the stage, where they'd also talk to the crews about their upcoming performance, picking out backgrounds and lights and props. Fortunately, Breezy was happy to take charge for their group. Although Cowboy and Tyler had opinions, they usually went with Breezy's plans since she always seemed to know what was best. Katrina simply watched and listened. It was like learning a new language.

After a midday restroom break, Katrina and Breezy were stopped by Brandy and a cameraman. “Hey, girls,” Brandy said. “Really nice job last night. So, tell me, are you both feeling jazzed and upbeat now?”

“Yeah.” Breezy nodded eagerly. “We've picked a great song, and we're really getting it down today.”

“We heard you pushed Lulu off to another group. Do you think that was the right decision?”

“I was sad to see her go,” Katrina admitted.

“Our quartet is strong,” Breezy assured her. “I think the judges will be pleased when they hear us tomorrow.”

“Katrina.” Brandy pointed the mike at her. “I see you're wearing your Amish clothes again. Mind if I ask—what's up with that?”

Katrina was unsure. “I, uh, these are my clothes. What else would I wear?”

“Well, I suppose our viewers will be wondering . . . I mean, last night you didn't look Amish . . . today you do. What's it going to be?”

“I don't understand.”

“I mean, what do you plan to wear when you perform tomorrow?”

“I, uh, I don't know.” Katrina glanced at Breezy, but she just shrugged. “I thought my green dress perhaps.”

“Do you realize that people—including our esteemed judges—are saying you have a chance to win this thing, Katrina? Your voice is that good. The show has barely started to air, and already the buzz is beginning.”

“Buzz?” She imagined the bees around her family's honey hives.

“The entertainment shows on TV. Haven't you heard the rumble?”

“What?”

“You know, ‘the Amish girl with the voice of an angel,'” Brandy declared. “Don't you even turn on the TV in your room?”

Breezy laughed. “No way. Even when I get a chance to turn on the TV, Katrina and her aunt always insist I angle it toward my bed and keep the volume down low.”

“We're curious, Katrina,” Brandy persisted. “How badly do you want this thing? What does it mean to you?”

“You mean to win?” Katrina asked meekly.

“Yeah. What are you willing to sacrifice to become the next American Star?”

Katrina felt the cameraman moving in closer. “I don't know for sure.”

“Because to win
American Star
, you can't just sing like a star, you've got to look and act like a star too.” Brandy's brow creased. “Are you willing to do that? Can you take it to the next level? Our viewers are going to want to know.”

Katrina bit her lip. “I'm not sure what that really means. But I do want to win . . . at least enough to get my daed his surgery.”

“But you understand that after tomorrow night, the viewers will be voting, don't you?”

“Voting?”

“They call or email,” Breezy explained, “and they vote for different contestants.”

“People usually look forward to some support from their hometown crowd.” Brandy chuckled. “Do you think we can expect the
Amish vote
?”

“No, no . . . I don't think so.” Katrina shook her head. “The Amish don't watch TV. No one from home will vote for me.” She almost added that Bekka might vote but that she'd be the only one. However, she knew that one vote would make little difference.

“You do realize that you'll have to appeal to the other voters out there, don't you? You've got to make those viewers love you and want for you to win. That's no easy task.”

Katrina suddenly remembered the time Cal had told her to jump into Daadi's grain silo. It only had a few feet of grain in it at the time, and the cool feeling of sinking into the silky wheat grains had felt wonderful at first. But when she'd realized she could barely move her arms and legs—and that she couldn't get out—she'd started to panic. Feeling as if she were being swallowed by the grain, she'd pleaded with Cal to pull her out. That was how she felt right now—like
American Star
was pulling her down, and she couldn't get out.

“Don't worry.” Breezy smiled into the camera. “I'll ask the people in my town to vote for both of us. You hear that, Dallas, Texas? I hope you'll vote for this little girl too. She's got one terrific voice.”

“That's generous,” Brandy told her.

Breezy smiled brightly as she wrapped an arm around Katrina's shoulders. “We're friends. Why wouldn't I want to help her?”

“Well, I can't wait to see your performance tomorrow,” Brandy told them. “And now I'll let you get on with your rehearsing. Good luck!”

After a long day of practicing their song, rehearsing onstage, and working with all the sound guys, light technicians, and musicians, Breezy declared it was time for a meeting.

“A meeting?” Cowboy questioned. “About what?”

“A wardrobe planning meeting,” she explained. “As y'all know—well, except maybe Katrina here since she's never actually watched the show—after we make it into the top twenty, which I expect we will—”

“That's pretty optimistic,” Tyler said.

She grinned. “Have you heard any of the other groups? I'd say our chances of winning are superb.”

“Don't count your eggs before they're laid,” Katrina said.

“I thought it was hatched,” Tyler said.

“No, I believe it's laid,” Katrina told him.

“Anyway, back to this meeting,” Breezy said sharply. “As I was saying, after we make it into the top twenty, which I optimistically believe will happen, we will have stylists to help us with wardrobe and hair and everything. But as you know, we're still on our own for tomorrow's performance.
Even so, we need to look hot. I mean really hot. So let's coordinate our wardrobe now.” She began to describe what she planned to wear—a heavy dress that Katrina had hung up the other day after she'd held it in the sunlight, where it sparkled like polished brass. “Because I sing the opening verse about the lady who thinks all that glitters is gold, I think my gold sequined gown is perfect.” She pointed at Katrina. “You can wear my dark green satin dress. It'll look great on you.”

“But I—”

“No arguments. The dress really works with your lyrics—remember the tree by the brook? That's like the green gown and—”

“But I already have a green dress,” Katrina told her. “Why can't I just—”

“We're part of a group, Katrina. If you don't look like you're part of our group, you will bring us all down. You heard what Brandy said earlier. If you want to be a star, you have to
look
like a star.” She pointed to Katrina's simple blue dress. “And I'm sorry, sweetheart, but that is just not star material.” She looked at the guys. “Am I right or am I right?”

They both just nodded. Breezy went over what the guys would wear, and after one more run-through of the song, it was time to get back onto the shuttle bus and return to the hotel. Katrina rode back in silence. She felt defeated. As badly as she wanted to stand her ground and insist on dressing in her Amish clothing, she had given in. She folded her arms across her front, staring out at the dusky sky and city lights. She used to think of herself as a strong person, but more and more she saw herself as a pushover. She almost hoped that she would get sent home tomorrow.

Back in their hotel room, Katrina saw that her aunt had finished piecing together her quilt top and had spread it across their bed in a pretty pattern of blues and purples and black squares.

“It looks very nice,” Katrina told Aunt Alma.

“
Ja
. It makes me feel at home.” Aunt Alma smiled sadly.

“Are you homesick?” Katrina asked.

“Homesick?”

Katrina explained what Sadie had told her.

“
Ja
, I suppose I am homesick.”

Katrina nodded. “
Ja
. . . me too.”

They weren't scheduled to go to the studio until four o'clock the next day. As a result, Breezy insisted on sleeping in until nearly noon. Katrina and Aunt Alma couldn't imagine how it was even possible for someone to sleep so long. They walked around the hotel lobby and went to the grocery store, and just as they were heading for the elevators, they were met by Brandy and a cameraman.

“Just the ones I'm looking for,” Brandy said. “I'd hoped you'd let us come visit your room.”

“Our room?” Katrina glanced at her aunt. “But Breezy is probably still sleeping.”

“That's okay.” Brandy grinned. “This is, after all, a reality show. Mind if we follow you up?”

“All right,” Katrina agreed halfheartedly. “If you think Breezy won't mind.”

Breezy was just getting up when they came into the room. “What're y'all doing here?” she asked, ducking into the bathroom. “I haven't even done my face yet.”

“It's okay,” Brandy called out. “We just want to see how
the Amish live.” She pointed to the quilt on the bed. “Now will you look at that. Very pretty.”

“Aunt Alma just made that,” Katrina explained. “She's one of the best quilt makers in our settlement.”

“No, no, that's not true. Many women are much better sewers than me.”

“And look at this.” Brandy moved over to where the colorful jars of preserved foods still lined the counter. There was also a small bouquet of daisies that Aunt Alma had gotten for Katrina—to make her feel more at home. “Isn't this quaint?”

“Aunt Alma canned those foods,” Katrina told them. “Her pickled beets are the best.”

Aunt Alma opened the little fridge. “And you see, we have cheeses and sausages and lots of good things to eat.”

“You're making me hungry,” Brandy told her.

“We can fix you some lunch, if you like,” Aunt Alma said.

“No, but thanks anyway. So would you say that this is like how you live at home?” Brandy asked Katrina. “With your quilts and foods around you?”

Katrina shook her head. “This is nothing like home.”

“What do you miss most about home?”

Katrina sighed. “I miss the grass and the trees . . . and my garden. I really miss my garden.” She felt tears in her eyes. “And my family . . . I really miss my family. And my friends.”

“But you mentioned the grass and trees and your garden first,” Brandy said quickly. “I'm curious. Do you miss those more than the people?”