A Simple Song (18 page)

“I miss the green growing things because I don't see much of that here. But there are lots of people here. And I've made some new friends. Breezy and Tyler and Cowboy. And Lulu. And you. And of course, I have my aunt. But it's true I do
miss the trees and grass.” She sighed. “And the simplicity. I miss the simplicity.”

Brandy seemed to be thinking about this. “Hearing you speaking of it like that . . . and having been to visit your farm . . . well, I almost miss it too.” Brandy looked into the camera. “Who knows? By the time
American Star
ends, we might all want to become Amish.” She laughed, then turned back to Katrina. “By the way, Jack Smack is setting up a meeting for you with Larry Zimmerman from the old sixties group Willow Tree. Are you looking forward to that?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes. I have so many questions about Mammi.”

Brandy explained to the camera that Katrina's grandmother had sung with Willow Tree. “Some of our viewers aren't familiar with Starla Knight, but she was one of the great folksingers of the sixties. After a short but illustrious career, she disappeared so completely that most people assumed she had died. But now we know that she simply became Amish.” She peered curiously at Katrina. “Do you know why she ended her career so abruptly?”

Katrina slowly shook her head. “I don't know. But I hope that her friend Larry Zimmerman will have some answers to my questions.”

Brandy smiled. “I hope so too.”

Breezy emerged from the bathroom with her face made up and every hair in place. But it seemed clear that Brandy didn't want to spend much time with her. “See you girls later. Good luck tonight.”

Breezy seemed a little let down when they left. “It's like I said, Katrina—the cameras love you. You're the big story. ‘The Amish girl with the voice of an angel.' It's all over the
airwaves.” But the way Breezy was saying all this sounded unconvincing. Or maybe it was just insincere. Katrina wasn't sure she really understood Breezy. Sometimes she seemed sweet and kind and reminded her of Bekka. Other times she reminded Katrina of Aunt Fannie.

There wasn't time to think about such things now, though, since they had to pack up everything they would need for this evening's performance. Fortunately, Breezy took charge. Katrina simply followed her directions. When it was time to go, Katrina and Aunt Alma offered to carry the two bags filled with dresses, shoes, makeup, and hair things . . . and Breezy let them.

As they rode to the studio, Katrina wondered if this might be her last night to compete and how she would feel if it were. The truth was, she didn't really care if they sent her home tomorrow. She was more than just tired of the show—she was fed up. But then she remembered how she'd felt just the same way before the last competition, and yet when it had all been said and done, after the crowd had clapped and cheered, she'd been elated. And she'd been even more elated when she didn't get sent home. Perhaps she no longer knew herself so well . . . or perhaps she'd simply lost sight of what really mattered.

Once again, Breezy took charge of getting Katrina ready for the stage, but only after Breezy was completely dressed with her makeup and hair done to perfection—or at least to Breezy's idea of perfection. “It's a good thing you don't much care how you look,” Breezy told Katrina as she smeared some pinkish lip color onto Katrina's mouth. “It does make this go faster.” She pushed Katrina in front of the mirror now. “There, how does that look?”

“Like someone else,” Katrina confessed.

“Good. That's what we're going for. Especially since we've already been labeled the goody-two-shoes group.”

“You said that before.” Katrina remembered the night Breezy came back to the room drunk. “What does that mean?”

“It means we've got a reputation for being polite, rule-abiding, sweet Christian kids.” She wrinkled her nose.

“But that's a good thing.”

Breezy's mouth twisted to one side as she brushed something onto Katrina's cheeks. “Maybe . . . but not if we get pigeonholed as boring and stodgy and dull.”

Other girls were crowding in to use the dressing room
mirror, so, relieved to be done, Katrina moved out of their way to make more room. Out on the stage, they moved into the holding area where Tyler and Cowboy were waiting. Both guys looked neatly groomed with dark suits and dark ties. Together, the four of them watched from behind the scenes while the group on stage finished their performance.

As usual, the judges made comments about the performance, giving advice or suggestions along with a few compliments to the competitors. Katrina tried to wiggle her toes in the shoes Breezy had insisted she wear, but her toes were wedged in so tightly that they felt slightly numb. The shiny black shoes had tall heels that made walking tricky. She hoped she wouldn't fall down. Fortunately, they weren't doing much more than walking and singing tonight. Katrina ran the choreography through her mind as the judges continued to banter with the contestants. Mostly she just needed to remember to walk in a
Z
design forward, then sing her verse, then walk in a backward
Z
while the others sang, then straight forward when they sang together. Really, it wasn't that complicated.

Bruce Betner was announcing them, and as the crowd clapped, they went out onto the stage and took their places in the semidarkness. The music began, slowly and quietly, and the lights came on. Breezy started out the song, moving around in her sparkling golden dress, smiling with confidence, and singing the lyrics perfectly.

They all took their turns with their solo verses—Katrina put her whole heart into hers—and they sang the choruses together like Breezy had arranged. With no mistakes or glitches, Katrina felt they'd done a good job as they ended the song. Based on the loud cheering and clapping, the crowd agreed.

“Nicely done,” Ricky told them. “Very, very nice. And a great choice of song for your mix of voices. I know it's not Cowboy's favorite sort of song.” He grinned at him. “But don't worry, man, you'll get to do your country music before this is over. Tyler, you sounded great as always. I could tell you were really singing from your soul. Now Breezy . . .” He paused as if considering his words. “You were technically perfect, but I don't know . . . it might just be me, but it seemed like something was missing.” He pointed at Katrina now. “And you—well, I don't know what to say. Every time I hear your voice it's just like the tabloids are saying—the Amish girl with the voice of an angel. It's truly a gift.” He nodded. “By the way, you look great tonight.”

“You do look great.” Celeste jumped in. “And you sound great too, Katrina. You're making us proud, girl. Our little Amish angel is doing good. Keep it up.” Celeste echoed what Ricky had said about the others, even the part about Breezy and that something seemed to be missing.

“I agree,” Jack said. “Breezy's singing is spot-on technically.” He shook his finger at her. “But for some reason you're not connecting with me. Maybe you need to forget about singing so perfectly and think about the meaning behind the song. I'm not really sure. But I do know I didn't enjoy it. And that's not good.” He went on to offer the guys a few pointers, then looked back at Katrina. “I can tell just by looking at you right now that you're not comfortable in that dress. You'd probably be more comfortable with your little Amish bonnet and apron. Am I right?”

She just nodded.

“Well, that's what being a performer is about sometimes, Katrina. You have to do what it takes to please the crowds.
That's what you get paid for as an entertainer. Maybe someday, after you've really arrived, you can dress or act any way you like. But that's an earned privilege. And as beautiful as your voice is and as much as we love you, you haven't earned that privilege yet.” He smiled. “But hang in there. Do your best and pay your dues. Maybe it'll come to you . . . in time.”

They went down to sit with the audience now, watching as the other groups performed. Katrina was surprised at how good some of them were. It seemed that everyone was improving. She was also surprised at how harsh the judges could be sometimes, pointing out things she had missed or didn't even understand. It made her wonder if they hadn't been a little soft on her group, although she didn't know why they would be treated any differently.

At the end Bruce invited all the competitors onto the stage, this time telling the viewers which numbers to call to place their votes for everyone. As Katrina stood there, looking out into the blindingly bright lights, she wondered who would possibly vote for her. Really, it seemed useless to keep trying if it would take voters to win this. Other than Bekka, who would call or email?

“All right then,” Bruce said cheerfully. “That wraps it up for tonight. The final forty all did a fabulous job, but as we all know, half of you are going home. The next time we meet, we will cut the competition down to the final twenty. The
final twenty
, ladies and gentlemen—that is getting down there. So place your votes now and make sure to tune in tomorrow for the results.”

As the house lights came on, Katrina searched the crowd for her aunt. Finally she spotted her waving near the front. Katrina hurried down to join her.

“You sang beautifully,” Aunt Alma said. “And you look pretty too.”

Katrina shrugged. “Well, that was Breezy's doing.”

As they rode the shuttle bus back to the hotel, Breezy seemed much quieter than usual. Katrina wondered if she'd said something to offend her. “Thank you for all your help,” she told Breezy as they rode up in the elevator together. “I never could've done it without you.”

“You're welcome,” Breezy told her quietly.

“Are you feeling all right?” Aunt Alma asked her with concern.

Breezy frowned. “I guess so.”

“You can sleep in again tomorrow,” Katrina said.

“Did you get what the judges were saying about me?” Breezy said suddenly.

“What?” Katrina tried to remember.

“About me singing technically right, but that something was missing,” Breezy said in a discouraged voice. “Do you get that?”

Katrina considered this as they exited the elevator. “I don't know.”

“What is it?” Breezy continued. “What am I missing?”

“Jack said you need to sing about the meaning of the song,” Katrina told her as they went down the hall.

“I
was
singing about the meaning of the song,” Breezy argued. “I thought about it a lot. I even had a dream about it. Why do they think I don't understand that? It's not like I'm stupid.”

As she slid her key into the slot, Katrina tried to remember her first reaction to Breezy's voice. Hadn't she felt like something was missing too? Yet Breezy was so knowledgeable
about music. Katrina knew that she'd been studying music for years. And Breezy usually had so much confidence—more than most of them. Why was she struggling like this now?

“What is it?” Breezy demanded as they went into the room. “What is wrong with me?”

Katrina set a bag on the bed, trying to think of a gentle answer. “I think it's kind of like Jack said . . .”

“What?”

“When you sing,” Katrina began slowly, “sometimes it doesn't feel like you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“When I sing,” Katrina continued, “I try to feel like the song is part of me. Like it's singing inside of me. Like it's a story that I understand and care about. Like it's coming from within me. Does that make sense?”

Breezy flopped down on her bed. “Not really.”

“I don't really know how to explain it, but somehow it works for me.”

Breezy sat up with a scowl. “Yeah, but you have the advantage.”

“The advantage?”

“The judges like you. They want to keep you on the show, Katrina. No matter what.”

“No matter what?” Katrina was confused. Was Breezy saying that even if Katrina sang poorly, the judges would keep her on?

“Come on, surely you know that by now. You're the little Amish girl. You're different from the rest of us. That makes the show more interesting, and viewers like that, and ratings go up. They don't want you to go home. In fact, I'll bet that they plan to keep you on until the final six.”

“How can the judges keep me on if the voters don't vote for me?”

“They can cheat.”

Katrina frowned. “Cheat? You think they would cheat?”

“Sure. If it boosts ratings. Why wouldn't they? It's all about the bottom line.”

“What is a bottom line?”

“Money.” Breezy was going into the bathroom. “Just follow the money.”

Katrina looked at Aunt Alma as the door to the bathroom shut loudly. But Aunt Alma merely shrugged as she began removing her clothing for bed.

The next evening, they gathered at the studio again. Tonight they had three previous winners of
American Star
performing, and Katrina didn't like to judge, but she felt that two of the singers weren't as good as some of the ones competing. Of course, she also knew that she was the last one to have such opinions. Compared to everyone else, what Katrina knew about music wouldn't even fill Aunt Alma's thimble.

“All right, it's the moment you've all been waiting for,” Bruce was finally saying. “I want all forty contestants up here on the stage.” He chatted with the audience as the contestants came onto the stage, lining up in the formation that they'd been told earlier to follow. Once again, the judges began to speak to each contestant, offering criticism and suggestions and a few random compliments. As they did this, they divided the singers into three groups: one on the left, one on the right, and one in the center. Katrina was in the right group tonight, along with Tyler. She wondered if that meant she
was going home since the ones on the right had been sent home last time.

“You kids in the middle,” Bruce said, “you are the judges' bottom five, and this could mean you're going home.” He chuckled like he knew a secret. “Or not.”

Katrina cringed to see that Breezy was in this group. Did this mean Breezy was going home? She hoped not.

“You contestants on the left,” Bruce turned and gave them a sad expression. Katrina noticed Cowboy's white hat in the back row. “You got the least amount of votes yesterday. That means you're all at risk for going home.” He looked at the ones on the right. “You guys got the most votes, which means you are staying.” Everyone in this group began to hug and jump around happily. For their sakes, Katrina tried to act enthused.

“But as you can see, there are only sixteen in your group.” Bruce turned back to the others now. “That means we have four more contestants who need to move to the right.” He nodded to the judges. “That is up to you.”

“That's right,” Celeste said. “As you all know, we each have one vote, and I'm using my vote to pick Cowboy.” She smiled at him. “I'm sorry you didn't get more votes, Cowboy, because I think you're doing a great job. But for some reason you're not getting the voters on board. So you'd better do something to get your fans excited enough to call in.”

He thanked her, then came over to join Katrina's group.

Jack and Ricky took turns picking two more people from the other group on the left. According to Katrina's math, that meant there were still only nineteen, and this was supposed to be the top twenty.

“Now for the final contestant,” Jack said. “There's one
contestant who is in the judges' bottom picks, but ironically it's someone who happened to get a whole lot of votes.”

“According to my sources, this particular person got more votes than any of the other contestants,” Bruce said. “Which does make me wonder how she got put in the bottom five. Kind of an anomaly.”

“And that is precisely why this person is going to be rescued from the bottom tonight.” Celeste cleared her throat. “Breezy Vicks, I'm talking about you. It seems that your voters have determined your fate this time, but if we judges had been choosing, you'd be going home, darlin'.”

Breezy gave them a shaky looking smile. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she came over to the edge of the group on the right, lingering on the fringe as if she felt she didn't really belong. Katrina moved over and reached out to grab Breezy's hand and hold it tightly.

“All of you top twenty have your work cut out for you,” Bruce told them. “But you will also have some help from here on out. As you know, we've brought in the pros to help you with the rest of your performances.” He introduced fashion designers, vocal coaches, hairstylists, makeup artists, and all kinds of people. Then he told everyone goodnight.

As soon as the stage lights went down, Breezy started to cry. Katrina put her arms around her, holding her as she sobbed. “It's all right,” Katrina said softly. “They didn't send you home.”