Chapter 2

Noah heard the sound of water splashing on a floor. A few minutes later, it stopped, and Tom emerged from the door, dripping wet, toweling his hair dry as he walked. Noah stared at his body and saw broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. Tom’s upper body was well developed, clearly from regular workouts. It also appeared to be hairless except for a small patch of black pubic hair that framed an impressive set of genitals. Noah suddenly realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes, somewhat taken aback by the unfamiliar sensations he was experiencing. Tom didn’t seem to notice, as he finished drying his body and deftly retrieved underwear, shorts, and a polo shirt from his gym bag. He pulled them on quickly and slipped into a pair of deck shoes. He stowed the shoes he’d been wearing in a little cloth bag and put it in the gym bag along with his towel, sweat-soaked cutoffs, and tank top.

“Okay,” Tom said as he stood up and grabbed the bag, “let’s go up to the choir room and have a go at it.”

NOAH FOLLOWED TOM down another corridor and up two flights of stairs to the third floor. A door off of the landing at the head of the stairs opened into a generous-size room that contained a baby grand piano facing rows of chairs on a series of risers. Tom sat down at the piano and instructed Noah to stand at his right. “Okay,” he said, “let’s hear a scale.”

He struck middle C, and Noah followed the music, singing, “Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do.”

“Good,” Tom said. “Now do the same thing using ‘la la la’.”

Noah followed Tom’s instructions and was put through a series of vocal exercises, at the end of which Tom handed him a copy of the Episcopal Hymnal and asked him to sing from a particular page. As instructed, Noah sang the line, which consisted of nine words.

“Good, but not quite what I want,” Tom said. “The whole line shouldn’t be legato. The last three words need to stand alone. They should be neither legato nor staccato. Simply touch them and let them go. Think of it as a lover giving his beloved a brief caress and quickly, but not too quickly, lifting his hand away. Like this—” He played and, with a rich tenor voice, sang, “Come, risen Lord, and deign to be… our… guest—”

He turned to Noah and said, “Now try again.”

Noah obediently sang the line again, as instructed.

“Well, Noah Webster,” Tom said, “you’ve just grasped, in one simple lesson, a concept that has eluded at least half of the choir for the past month.”

“Thank you.”

“You might not thank me when I ask you to demonstrate what you just did to the rest of the choir. You’ve had more than a little bit of training, I think.”

“Some. I play the piano, and I used to play French horn in the band. Somewhere along the line I had a few voice lessons, but I didn’t keep up with them.”

“Ever done any solo work?”

“No, Sir.”

“I assure you that will change once you join my little band of angels. Tell me about yourself.”

“As you already know, I work with Cindy, but it becomes part-time during the school year. I just finished my first year at FSCJ (Florida State College at Jacksonville) and will start back in the fall.”

“Are you gonna stay there until you graduate?”

“No. I’ll be transferring to UNF (University of North Florida) at the end of my sophomore year.”

“Good,” Tom said, “that means you’ll be around and available for a few more years. I think you’ll like UNF. I hope to finish my doctorate there by the end of next year.”

“You don’t look old enough for that.”

“Actually, I’m not. The thing is I graduated from high school when I was sixteen, so I’m probably only a couple of years older than you. Listen, I hear the thunder of footsteps on the stairs. How about having a glass of wine somewhere after the rehearsal? I like to get better acquainted with all of my singers.”

“Sure,” Noah said, “I’d like that, except I’m only nineteen, and I’ll have to settle for a Coke.”

“Not a problem.”

People began to enter the room. Noah noticed that each choir member went to a set of built-in bookcases along the wall and removed a burgundy-colored folder of music. The folders appeared to have labels on their spines but were too far from where he was sitting for him to read them. A fat lady came through the door and located her folder.