Loudmouth Louis - Anne Fine [8]
I couldn’t believe it. No one in the whole history of Percussion Band has ever got to choose.
I stared at all the things I love the best.
The glockenspiel.
The chiming bells.
The marimbas.
The cymbals.
The timpani drum.
I picked the chiming bells.
When we were all set up, Mr Hambleton stood by the tape recorder and made a speech.
“This is a very special day for me,” he said. “As you all know, I love music. It is my greatest joy. So it has been a great strain and a misery to have it ruined every single week by constant chattering and interrupting.”
(If I hadn’t been on a sponsored silence, I’d have spoken up then, and said that it wasn’t all me. But I was, so I didn’t.)
“But today –”
Mr Hambleton’s eyes shone and his voice wobbled. He couldn’t carry on. He was too moved. I felt a little nervous. I’d had a lot more practice interrupting than playing on the chiming bells. But, when we started, it was really very easy. If you’re not talking, you have time to watch. And then you see him pointing your way when it’s time to get ready. And when it’s time to go, he sweeps you in.
You’d have to be an idiot to get it wrong.
(Or not really listening.)
We played Surf Song and Bell-Time and Ghost Walk Rock. Then we swapped instruments (I chose the cymbals this time) and carried on. We did Circus and Twilight Time.
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Mr Hambleton said when the tape clicked at the end. “We have time to record on the other side.”
So we did Dem Bones, Dem Bones, Punch and Judy and Lullaby before the tape ran out and the bell rang.
“Oh, thank you!” cried Mr Hambleton. “Thank you all!” He clutched the cassette tape to his heart. “I shall treasure this,” he told us. “Treasure it! Thank you to everyone. Thank you, Louis! Thank you! Thank you!”
He was still saying it as we trooped out.
“Thank you! Oh, thank you!”
Caleb poked me in the ribs and whispered, “That’s interesting. Today Mr Hambleton is finding it even harder to keep quiet than you are!”
Then it was time to go and watch Pictures from History. I sat next to Geoff (since he was sponsoring me particularly to shut up through that). We chose chairs in the middle of the front row, and I was really glad, because it was amazing.
First, they explained about what people did in the days before toilets were invented.
Then they showed a film about a pretty girl who emptied her slops out of her attic window on to the Lord Mayor, and ended up marrying him.
Then they showed us a Potty Museum. (Honestly!) And the curator showed us all his favourites.
And then it ended with some splunky music, and pictures of loos through the ages.
I turned to Geoff and nearly told him, “That was amazing” But he clapped his hand over my mouth and stopped me just in time.
On the way down to the gym, I had a think. I’ll tell you what was on my mind.
I knew that, if anyone else had been trying to be quiet for a whole day, everyone would have been trying to trick them into forgetting.
Not spitefully. Just for fun.
But no one was doing that to me. In fact, they were trying to help me. If they came up, they kept their fingers on their lips, to remind me. And if they passed me notes in class, they wrote Ssshf on the top, in case I forgot. And, the whole day, not one single person had come up behind me in the playground and called out, “Hey Louis!” hoping I’d swing round and say, “What?” without thinking.
And I thought I knew why.
It was because they wanted me to do it. They wanted me to get through the day without talking as much as I did.
And not just because they’re my friends, but because they were enjoying it. It made a nice change to get through lessons without having to stop all the time for, “Someone is talking. Is it you, Louis?” and, “I’m not carrying on until Louis stops talking.”
And that was interesting. It made me think.
We didn’t get to climb the ropes in gym. But it wasn’t my fault. Miss Hunter wasn’t in the mood. She’d planned a ball game, and wasn’t going to change it. Not