Short Story Day 38 of 365
The a capella men’s choir had been on a whirlwind tour of Europe for six weeks.
A new day, a new venue or two – mostly modern churches and 300-year-old cathedrals.
Their tour was winding down with three concerts to go.
The young men were tired.
The director was exhausted.
The congregations, however, were still excited to hear the songs and stories that these Yanks brought from America.
The men were college students in their early 20s, but the audiences were easily in their 60s and 70s.
After the piper blew the correct pitch, the chorus tuned to the pitch and within a couple of seconds, the song began in earnest.
It happened that way every day on every song at every venue, like a well-oiled machine, the way they had practiced it for the past few months.
With two songs to go, Darcy blew the pitch and the director tuned the choir.
Basses first, then Leads, throw in the Tenors, and lastly the Baritones.
Unfortunately, the Baritones were having a hard time nailing down their pitch. Other choir members were getting antsy and started badmouthing the Baritones through threats and clenched teeth.
Darcy played the tuning note again.
Amid the commotion caused by the untuned chord and the unsettled choir, the frail high-pitched voice of an elderly woman in the back of the cathedral sounded out in the natural amplification of the cathedral, “A little louder please!”
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