Shane - Part One

Hear the story read by the author

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church on the corner of Wilson and Elm. Recently the church hired a new choir director named Shane Reed. Shane was thirty-two; from Seattle, Washington; and had a Master’s degree in music. Shane also had a broken heart. He and his high school sweetheart had gotten divorced a few months earlier. In his job interview Shane told Pastor Henry O’Donnell that he left Seattle because he needed a change of scenery. The actual reason was that he felt like putting a continent between himself and his ex. Pastor O’Donnell liked the polite young man with the shy smile and hired him on the spot.

Shane jumped right in, conducting the choir in worship service his first week on the job. Shane’s performance was a little rocky in Pastor O’Donnell’s opinion, but no worse than might be expected. To the pastor’s delight, however, several of the congregants remarked on how much they liked the new choir director as they shook Henry’s hand on the way out of service. It seemed he had indeed made a wise hiring decision.

As Henry O’Donnell drove home with his wife Jennifer and daughter Katie, Jennifer also remarked on what a nice young fellow Shane was. “And hot,” Katie added from the back seat.

“Excuse me?” Pastor O’Donnell said.

“He’s hot, Dad,” Katie informed him with the exasperated eye roll all teenage girls must learn in the Junior High bathroom. “I could tell he has a swimmer’s body. Yummy.”

“Katie!” Jennifer exclaimed.

Pastor O’Donnell noticed Jennifer’s cheeks had reddened. As he thought back, he realized all of the people who had complimented him on hiring Shane were female. It occurred to him it may not have been Shane’s musical prowess they admired.

Shane’s arrival came just as the choir was starting its preparations for the annual Christmas concert. This concert was a sixteen year old beloved tradition at the little church. Though the choir was only fourteen people strong, they were a tight knit and experienced group of singers. Choir member Del Winslow had directed the first couple Christmas concert rehearsals while they waited for a new choir director to be hired. When Shane arrived for his first rehearsal, Del shook his hand warmly.

“Welcome, Shane,” Del said. “You did a nice job at the service last week. We’re really glad to have you here.”

“Thank you,” Shane replied.

“Now, we’ve already put together our program for the Christmas concert,” Del told him. “Why don’t we run through it once for you?”

Shane agreed and for the next hour Del directed the choir in a run through. They performed many traditional Christmas hymns in a traditional style just as they had for every other concert for the last sixteen years. The show concluded with a performance of Silent Night that featured Del as a soloist -- just as it had for the last sixteen years.

When they were done, Shane clapped and praised them enthusiastically. “What wonderful voices you all have!” he exclaimed. Del grinned proudly. Then Shane said, “I would like to jazz up the arrangements a little.”

Del’s smile faded. He was not a fan of jazzing things up. But he held his tongue as Shane proceeded to change the pace and arrangements of several of the hymns, even swapping some out for songs he felt were more “toe tapping.” Poor Walter Tibble, the organist, struggled to adapt. Walter had learned most of the hymns a certain way years ago and was not the kind of fellow who handled change particularly well.

Finally, Shane suggested they conclude the concert with Joy to the World immediately after Silent Night. He thought it would leave the audience in brighter spirits. Del could hold his tongue no longer. He asked to speak to Shane outside.

Once they were alone, Del put his arm around Shane’s shoulders. “You’re obviously a talented musician, kid, but you’re new here. We have traditions. Traditions people expect us to honor. One of those traditions is my performance of Silent Night to close the Christmas concert. People look forward to it all year. They tell me so all the time. I don’t say that to brag, mind you. I’m thinking of you. I wouldn’t want people to be disappointed with your first Christmas concert.”

“I see,” Shane said diplomatically.

“We’re fun people,” Del went on. “Maybe it is time we tried a few new things in the concert. But let’s just take it a little slower. Leave the last number alone.”

Shane had directed the church choir back in Seattle and dealt with singer’s egos there so he knew what the smart decision was. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll end with Silent Night.”

And after that things went smoothly in rehearsals.

Until the day Shane met Florence Barker.

Florence Barker was a seventy-eight year-old widow, and had been a member of the church since she moved to Normal from New York twenty years before. Many of the church women of her generation considered her an odd duck. Florence wore flashy shoes and peppered her discussions with salty language and saucy innuendos. More than one churchgoer attributed Florence’s behavior to her big city roots.

What most of them did not know was that Florence Barker had at one time been a professional jazz singer. Though many of the people at the church had actually owned records she sang on, Florence never achieved the kind of fame where the average music fan knew her by name. Shane, however, was not an average music fan. He was a hard core jazz devotee and when Pastor O’Donnell introduced him to Florence, Shane knew exactly who she was.

Florence was flattered by Shane’s attentions, and not a little taken with his boyish looks. They huddled in a corner of the social hall during coffee hour as she regaled him with tales of nights performing at the legendary Blue Angel supper club in New York until everyone else had gone on to their Sunday afternoon activities except for church secretary Tammy Billings who waited impatiently to lock up. Finally Florence had to put a stop to the reminiscing as her stomach was noisily reminding her that it was past time for lunch.

As they walked out to their cars, Shane asked the question he had been wanting to ask since halfway through their conversation: “Miss Barker, why don’t you sing in the choir?”

“I was never any good at that type of group singing,” she said. “I’m too independent minded. And call me Florence, Sweetie. It’s the twenty-first century after all.”

“Well, if you won’t join the choir, what about doing a number in the Christmas show? It’s my first one and I really want it to be great.”

Florence’s weakness for good looking, earnest young men had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion, though usually not at church. She agreed to Shane’s proposal. Shane was delighted.

When Florence strolled into the next Christmas concert rehearsal, the babble of conversation dribbled to a stop. Shane called for attention. He explained Florence’s background to the choir and then announced that Florence would grace them by performing a number in the show.

Shane was so giddy at the prospect of working with Florence that he hadn’t noticed the choir didn’t seem to share his excitement. If Florence was aware of their hesitation she didn’t let on. The truth was most of the choir was a bit in shock by this turn of events. Shane asked if Florence had picked out a song.

“I have,” she replied and handed sheet music for Irving Berlin’s White Christmas to Walter Tibble.

“Let’s hear it,” Shane said. Walter began to play the song with a sprightly bounce.

“Hold on there,” Florence said. “Slow it down a little.” Walter dropped the tempo by a third and Florence began to sing. It was unlike any performance that little choir room had ever heard. Florence cooed and purred the lyrics just like the torch songs she performed back at the Blue Angel. She made snow sound naughty and glistening treetops downright indecent. The stained glass windows in the sanctuary next door were in danger of steaming up.

Shane was smitten. When Florence whispered the last line with her come hither phrasing, he clapped wildly. The rest of the choir joined in. All except Del. “This is unacceptable,” he thought.

Though Shane didn’t know it yet, he had just put his new job in jeopardy.

The story of Shane and the Christmas Concert will be concluded in two weeks. Happy Thanksgiving!