Silent Majority (standard:other, 1377 words)
Author: Giovanni	Added: Apr 23 2001	Views/Reads: 3286/2173	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Allen thinks his mother will finally attend performance where he is conducting a local symphony, but he is worried that it won't meet her standards. he is also about the fight he had with the performers since he cut out one of the songs they were practici

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Allen was livid when Gino told him that the whole orchestra was behind
him and wanted to play Mendelsohn instead of Berlioz. This wasn't fair 
it wasn't just. Allen couldn't see from his orchestra's perspective 
that it wasn't fair that he switched the program just the other day 
from Mendelsohn to Berlioz. Berlioz was his mother's favorite composer, 
but he couldn't tell the performers that. 

Allen stormed off after Gino told him it was Mendelsohn or nothing.
Allen regretted having taken the waiter job that the violinist had set 
up for him. Allen who barely had enough money in his pocket for a cup 
of coffee two years ago when he came to town felt indebted to Gino for 
getting him a job and finding a place for him to stay. The curse of 
guilt plagued Allen throughout his entire life, to do or not to do for 
others when they had helped you. Look out only for yourself, 
self-reliance breeds success his mother always told him. 

When the lights dimmed Allen approached the stage and thirty some odd
faces glared at him. Allen didn't give a damn about his orchestra, 
though he truly felt that he owed Gino. Unyielding, Allen stared back 
at his disapproving performers and raised his hands for the Berlioz 
piece, but the orchestra was steadfast as well. Allen felt a great 
pinch in his neck, feeling heat above him: the dead bulbs above his 
head had been replaced. Gino raised his brows. There was dead silence 
and then coughs, an infant's intermittent cries, dropped changed and 
ruffling papers were the only sounds in the church. Someone's pew 
squeaked but not a single articulated voice was uttered. Allen sweated 
fiercely on the stage. This can't be happening he thought. 

He never felt so powerless. Other things made him feel week like owing
people a favor or money or when he was a party and he didn't have a 
clue as to what the people were discussing. Allen felt helpless. He 
looked at all the members of the orchestra individually then tried to 
take in everyone's face in one frame. United there protest made him 
drop his hands by waist. Never would he be able to show his face in the 
church. Despite the fact that he conducted strictly for the love of 
music and because his mother loved music too he realized that no church 
would allow him to volunteer his services after word got out about 
tonight's performance. 

What seemed like an eternity was really only a few minutes. Allen
couldn't bring himself to turn around. The twins chuckled. Unnerved 
Allen stood still melting on the stage underneath two newly replaced 
bright light bulbs. Suddenly a rhythmic buzzing ensued. Cowardly he 
turned to the side as the clamoring continued. When he finally faced 
the audience he saw them giving a standing ovation. He was baffled. It 
took him a few moments to realize that the audience believed that he 
and the orchestra performed John Cage's silent piece Four minutes and 
Thirty-three seconds. 

Allen never received a standing ovation in his life. He was ecstatic.
Yet he bemoaned the fact that should his mother ever visit one of his 
performances someday that he was certain not to receive the same 
applause that he and his silent orchestra received tonight. The silent 
orchestra was certainly at their best; the trouble was when they 
plucked their chords. His mother would never accept her son playing 
Cage's work if she were present; she abhorred Cage's work. Allen 
watched the clapping palms throughout the church: he was speechless. 


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