How Not to Run for President by Catherine Clark Page B

plugged them into the TV and settled back on the recliner to watch.
    â€œSo, what do you have for music?” I asked the governor.
    â€œI was counting on you, actually. I’m not sure what Dan put in here. At least he remembered the new reeds I asked for.” She sifted through the sheet music in the box. “How about these?”
    We practiced for about an hour: Benny Goodman, a Cole Porter piece, some Sousa marches, “The Star-Spangled Banner” and “America the Beautiful,” which I played much, much better this time around. I decided not to show her the Mozart music I’d brought along. I didn’t think she was up to that, and I didn’t want to embarrass her.
    The governor wasn’t bad. She wasn’t good, either, but she wasn’t bad. If we practiced some more, we might actually do well at this.
    For a few minutes I even forgot where I was. When I’m getting all the notes right, when everything is quiet and I can concentrate, I can go totally inside the music. Sometimes I don’t want to come back out.
    â€œThat’s real playing,” Mort had said to me once when I described the feeling to him. “That’s what it’s all about.”
    When we had finished playing, the governor looked at me and nodded. “Nice. You have an ear.”
    â€œTwo of them, actually,” I joked.
    She smiled. “Musicality, I mean.” She told me about her family, how she grew up singing at church. She came from a big family, like Simon’s, and all her siblings would get together and sing as a group. “Sometimes I loved it; sometimes I hated it, and it was the last thing I wanted to do. But the thing about music is that it’s kind of like public speaking. Learn the skill, and you can go many places with it.”
    â€œThat’s what Mort always says about the clarinet! Learn it and you can learn any wind instrument afterward,” I said. “He’s my music teacher,” explained.
    â€œYou know, I’ve heard that, too. Clarinet’s the most versatile instrument in the world, isn’t it? I read that somewhere.” She nodded. “You know what, Aidan? It’s been so long since I could actually just sit and talk with one person. No microphones.”
    I sighed. “I know what you mean.”
    She smiled at me. “Thanks.”
    â€œNo problem,” I said as I started to take apart my clarinet, removing the bell first.
    â€œDon’t be nervous about tomorrow. I’ve been on the show a hundred times,” the governor said. “Nicest people in the world.”
    â€œI’m not that nervous,” I said.
    Then I started thinking about it. Everyone I knew watched that show. My parents watched it. Christopher. My grandparents. Simon and his family. Mort. T.J. The entire population of Fairstone. The entire country.
    I reassembled my clarinet. “But if it’s all the same to you, Governor, I think we’d better keep practicing,” I said.

That night I couldn’t sleep. One, I was extremely nervous about this plan to be on Wake Up, America!
    And speaking of waking up, our wake-up call was scheduled for five a.m., so we could get to the station at six and go on live at seven-something. What point was there in falling asleep if I had to get up that early?
    Two, these days everything I did ended up on TV, anyway, or at least on YouTube. So why did we need to go to them ?
    Three, if I played on TV, I wanted to be really, really, really good. I didn’t want to be like the small-town freak show that should have stayed home. I wanted to show everyone that my slip-up on “America the Beautiful” was due to the fact I’d been tackled by Secret Service agents, then frisked and suspected of terrorism. I was better than I’d been that day. Much better. I didn’t want Mort cringing when he heard me.
    Four, I’d promised to get revenge on Emma. How was I going to do that,