Page 3 of You've Got a Place Here, Too
“Wait, you don’t even know where rehearsal will be!” Jrue called out after me.
How hard could it be to figure out on my own,I thought. Instead of responding, I waved him off casually, leaving the library—and those hazel eyes—behind.
Jubilee Hall was the largest building on campus, six stories and L-shaped, perched front and center on a manicured circle drive and covered with windows. In the heat of the Tennessee sun, I swatted mosquitos and marveled at the buzzing chirp of what my Google research told me were likely cicadas. Inside, I found the rehearsal room to the right of the golden staircase in Jubilee Hall, which the enthusiastic student at the front desk recited was reserved for golden alum—folks who graduated more than fifty years ago—and Miss Fisk, the university’s crowned queen. After repeating my request for the Appleton Room, I was finally directed to an oblong space with framed Black art covering the walls and a baby grand piano situated in front of a short wooden stage. In this room, in front of that stage, stood the Fisk University Jubilee Singers.
As I remember it, I already knew I loved music back when Granny started reciting her stories, but as she tells it, I never loved music until I heard them. And maybe she was right. Something about the way her face lit up when she remembered herself as a child made me feel nostalgic for a memory that wasn’t even my own. When Granny heard the Jubilee Singers for the first time, it had changed her life. Hearing Granny’s stories each night as a child had changed mine.
I surveyed the room where students sang casual duets in assorted huddles, hyping each other up with shoulder slaps and choruses of “ayyyyy” whenever someone hit a complicated riff or run. Some folks were sitting and chatting quietly with their friends, while others were studying lyrics and humming along to the melody. Books and bodies and backpacks were spread all overthe place. And at the center of it all was my gorgeous library apparition.
“Five minutes until warmups,” shouted a voice from near the stage. And suddenly, everyone was moving. It was like a choreographed dance that everyone knew the moves to, except for me. Luckily, just before panic began to set in, Jrue was magically standing at my side.
“You ready?” he said with a sweet smile.
“As ready as I think I’m gonna be,” I said, palms wet. Jrue grabbed my hand to lead me toward the director of the Jubilee Singers. On the way, I oscillated between embarrassment for my sweaty palms (now attached to Jrue’s cool, dry ones), fear at the idea of voluntarily singing for anyone, and nostalgia for my granny.I can’t wait to tell her,I thought as we approached the stage.
“Dr. Watkins,” Jrue said, shaking hands with a tall man. “This is Myra, the singer I told you about. She’s preparing an audition for the music major, and I think you need to hear her sing, too.”
I distracted myself from sheer embarrassment by studying the director as they talked. Salt-and-pepper beard, with a short fade up top. Probably fifties or sixties, though it was hard to tell because he didn’t have a single wrinkle, not on his skin or in his three-piece suit. Though he didn’t speak loudly, you would think he did because the room hushed every time his mouth opened.
“Myra,” Jrue said, now looking at me. “This is Dr. Watkins.”
I stared at my feet and mumbled, “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you here to sing for me, Miss Myra?” Dr. Watkins said, sizing me up.
“Well.” I blushed. “I was hoping maybe we could wait? My audition for the major is tomorrow, and honestly, I’d prefer not to sing twice.”
Dr. Watkins laughed and made a face at Jrue. “She doesn’t like to sing, huh?” Looking back at me he added, “You know, if you were to join the Singers, you would sing a lot more than twice.”
Jrue laughed awkwardly. “She knows that,” he said pseudo-confidently. “She just needs a little more time to prepare, right?” He shot daggers with his eyes that pierced my bubble of nerves.
“Yes, of course,” I said, straightening my posture. “I was a music major at my previous university, and I’m excited to get back on track with that here.”
“Mm-hmm,” hummed Dr. Watkins with a skeptical glance. “Well, I happen to know exactly what the music chair is looking for in her majors. Perhaps you’d like to give me a little preview? I’d be happy to put in a good word. Once I hear you sing, of course.” He studied me with the gaze of a man whose opinion would carry a lot of weight.
“If it’s all the same to you,” I whispered, “let’s stick with tomorrow.”
Dr. Watkins made ahmphsound, propping his chin and tilting his head to consider me from first one angle, then another. “Do you know much about the Jubilee Singers, Miss Myra?”
I nodded but decided against telling him about my granny and her fairy tales.
“We uphold a strong legacy here. Jubilee Singers are the royalty of Fisk University. Leaders who carry a great deal of responsibility on campus. Even being considered is an honor.” He paused, closing his eyes slightly. “As director, my role is about more than listening to people sing. There’s also a spiritual component. I hand select every Singer. I pray before each audition and fast before making a single selection. That said”—he circled around me—“I have a feeling about you. And the timing makes it seemeven more destined. See, this rarely happens midyear, but we just so happen to have an opening. And with the way Jrue described your voice, well, I’d love to hear you sing.”
My heart was racing. I was either ecstatic or about to pass out.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow,” he continued, “so you have time to prepare. I’ll arrange for the music chair to conduct your audition here at the same time. Since you don’t want to sing twice.” He winked. “How does that sound, Miss Myra?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how I’d gone from one audition to possibly two. Just then I caught Jrue giving me a thumbs-up from the corner of my eye, and I remembered.Ugh, boys.
“See you tomorrow,” Dr. Watkins called cheerily before turning to address his choir. I could hear the echoes of their rich harmonies still reverberating in my ears when I was halfway down the hall. Then I heard an equally melodious voice call out from behind me.
“Hey, wait up,” Jrue said, jogging my way.
I tucked my head and tried my best to become invisible. After all that Jrue had done to get me in front of Dr. Watkins, I’d basically frozen. I was embarrassed and expecting a confrontation.
But when he reached me, his face was filled with compassion. I tried to avoid his eye contact but when I eventually gave in and met his gaze, I nearly melted on impact. There was something about Jrue that felt familiar, here in this place where everything else was so new. Despite my hesitations, I couldn’t help but give in to that good feeling. So, I let myself melt.
“Hi,” I finally said.
