I would practice, too!
10
PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
I took out the bachi from under my bed. I closed my eyes. I needed to remember my song. Kat said I had a good memory. I gripped my bachi and took a deep breath:
5, 5, 8, 5, 3, 3, 5, big 8.
My eyes flew open and I grinned. I remembered my song! I hopped and jumped around my room, waving the bachi.
I used my bed as my taiko: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HA! The sticks bounced off my bed, which was kind of fun. But it wasn’t as exciting as when I hit the drum and it made a big sound.
When I got to the last part, the Big Eight, I remembered that Kat had said I could make up my own pose.
I raised my arms and crossed my sticks and yelled, “SAH!” That felt okay, but it wasn’t perfect. I tried again. I jumped with my legs together and pointed the sticks forward and shouted, “SAH!” No, that wasn’t it either.
I looked around my room and saw my flamingo collage. Of course!
I hit my bed with my bachi and played my song. When I got to the end, I held my arms out like I had wings and I bent one leg like a flamingo and yelled, “SAH!”
Wowee zowee! That was it!
Then I heard one of the best sounds in the world: the sound of Mom’s car pulling up! I ran to the back door and flung it open.
“Mom!” I waved to her. She waved back as she stepped out of the car. Instead of coming to the door, she went to the trunk and took out a big rubber trash can.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A surprise for after dinner,” Mom said, dragging the trash can to the garage, where it definitely belonged.
I loved surprises!
* * *
After dinner, Mom asked the entire family to come to the garage. Mom dragged the rubber trash can into the driveway.
“It’s upside down,” I said.
“And what’s with all the tape on it?” Sophie asked.
Strips of clear tape crisscrossed the bottom. Green and red tape circled the sides.
“Hey,” I said. “It kind of looks like a big taiko drum.”
Mom grinned. “It is! It’s a gomi-kan, or a trash-can taiko. You can use this to practice and for the dress rehearsal,” Mom said. “Do you want to try it now?”
“Hai!” I shouted yes. I ran to my room and grabbed my bachi.
When I got back outside, Mom, Dad, and Sophie were sitting in folding chairs from the garage. I walked to the gomi-kan. My first performance.
I stood at rest position, and then jumped into ready.
Dad started clapping.
“Not yet,” I said, grinning.
Sophie rolled her eyes. She thought Dad was silly, with his lame dad jokes. I thought Dad was funny.
I took a deep breath. Then I started playing. The gomi-kan made an odd sound, a muffled boom, and my sticks were bouncier off this drum, but it was still a drum!
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. “HA!” I shouted. I went through my whole song with no mistakes. I did my big finish in my Super Jasmine Drummer Girl Flamingo Pose, both sticks held out while I balanced on one leg. I yelled, “SAH!”
Mom, Dad, and even Sophie cheered.
I had done it! Wait till Maggie Milsap saw my taiko performance. She wasn’t the only one with talent!
11
DRESS REHEARSAL
Friday was dress rehearsal day. After morning math time, we walked to the auditorium, where we would watch the practice talent show. The seats in the auditorium squeaked and creaked as students fidgeted from nerves and excitement.
I sat through the kindergartners singing the teapot song. They were very cute. The first graders sang a song, too, but they also did it in sign language. That was pretty cool. Now the second graders were on the stage. Two girls bounced a soccer ball back and forth. Then a boy did a gymnastics tumbling act. While the second graders were doing their talents, Ms. Sanchez led our class out of our rows and backstage, where we lined up in order.
Maggie was third and I was last. Maggie probably thought that made her better than me. It didn’t matter. I was going to be great!
I held my bachi in my left hand. Kat said taiko was about respect. Respect for space, the equipment, and people, including myself. That meant not goofing off with the drum or bachi, or swinging the bachi around at others. It also meant enjoying myself. I didn’t usually like rules, but I liked taiko so much that I even liked its rules.
When it was our class’s turn, I tried to peek over the line of my classmates. I couldn’t see, but I heard Maggie Milsap’s violin. I hated to admit it, but she sounded good. The music floated through the air. She didn’t make any mistakes.
One by one, my classmates performed their talents onstage, and one by one they returned to their seats in the audience. By the time it was Linnie’s turn, I could see the stage. Whoa. That stage was pretty big. Linnie sat at Mr. Peters’s music-class piano and started playing. Linnie was awesome. When she was done, I clapped and cheered for her. She looked back at me and smiled as she curtsied to the audience.
It was almost my turn. The fourth graders lined up behind me, waiting for our class to finish.
Every single one of my classmates had done a great job. It was hard to tell who was the best, though. Maggie was good, but so were Linnie and Daisy and everyone else. I wanted to be the best, too.
“And next is Jasmine Toguchi, who will play the Japanese taiko,” Mrs. Tasker said, her voice echoing through the big auditorium.
I walked onto the stage. It felt huge. Ms. Sanchez brought out my gomi-kan and I heard Maggie Milsap say, “Is that a trash can?”
Some people laughed. My face flamed up.
Mrs. Tasker stepped onto the stage from behind the curtains. She didn’t say anything,
