The Oh, Otis Shenanigans

“Alright, children!” Miss Hampton, the music teacher, barked at the mass of fidgeting second graders assembled before her. It took another 30 seconds for them to straighten up and calm down. Finally, they all stood at attention, eyes on her, just the way she taught them.

This year’s Christmas concert would blow the socks off the parents and community. For the first time in school history, Miss Hampton had managed to get full buy-in from the teachers in the entire school district, K-12, for an all-school concert. The K-8 students plus the high school choir would fill the gymnasium on a massive set of risers that filled two-thirds of the gym floor. Miss Hampton only taught K-8 music, but when the Director of Arts, who was also the high school music teacher, abruptly left right before Halloween, it sent Principal Armstrong scrambling. How could they ever pull off the Christmas concert without the Director of Arts?

Miss Hampton offered her services as interim until the district filled the vacancy. This included putting together the holiday shows and the suggestion to have all the grades perform in one concert, rather than separating K-8 and high school into two concerts. The bands performed last week, and now the choirs would have their go tomorrow. She was counting on a stunning performance with no shenanigans, so the district picked her to fill the vacancy permanently. If the Christmas concert ended on a sour note, the parents and community would most assuredly complain to Principal Armstrong. Those negative offerings might cost her the job. She was doing everything in her power not to have the children mess everything up at tomorrow morning’s performance.

Today she took her last opportunity to fine-tune the students’ voices to sing like angels and make their parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and community members proud. The community billed the school Christmas concerts as the events of the season, second only to the large productions put on by the local grange halls every year. Her goal was to outshine the grangers, drawing such praise, Principal Armstrong would be thrilled to offer her the job.

She picked up her precious baton—the 14” ivory with a black, wooden handle used only during holiday concerts, a gift from her Grandpa Lionel. “Let’s get started,” she instructed the students. She tapped the baton on the edge of the music stand, and the second-grade students shushed. She then held up her arms at a slight bend in front of her and nodded to Mrs. Himmel at the piano to begin. Mrs. Himmel had worked with the school district for sixty-three years and never missed a concert. Christmas songs were her favorite, and she tapped out the beginning notes of James Pierpont’s classic, “Jingle Bells.”

Miss Hampton conducted the children as they belted out the popular tune, waving her arms in a flurry of specific movements to keep them in tempo. The second graders tended to rush this particular song, and it took a firm hand to avoid chaos. The students shouted out the last “one-horse open sleigh. . . hey!” and she cued them into their next song, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” Again, they kept tempo, harmonizing as well as any second-grade troupe. She yelled out, “Do a little wiggle to indicate you’re rockin’!” Of course, they complied, but in a somewhat subdued fashion. Miss Hampton was constantly reminding them to be mindful of musical decorum.

They finished their rockin’, and Miss Hampton waited until they stood still and silent. “Now, as is tradition, the student who has paid attention, followed directions, and shown exemplary respect for the musical craft during our holiday practices will conduct the class tomorrow. “A ripple of excited whispers emanated from the youngsters. Conductor status was a big deal. “Hush,” Miss Hampton instructed. “Remember, whoever I select may also be chosen as the master conductor to lead the last song performed by all the students. I’ll make that announcement tomorrow at the concert before the last song. Alright, children, this year’s second-grade conductor is . . . “ Home&Harvest | Nov+Dec 2021 69

“. . . Otis Swan!”

Otis jumped, hearing his name. He looked around wildly, unsure that he heard Miss Hampton correctly.

“Way to go, Otis!” Clark, his best friend who stood behind him, smacked him on the back in hearty congratulations. The rest of his friends cheered for him as he made his way down the risers to the podium.

Somewhat stunned, Otis looked up at Miss Hampton, his eyes searching hers. Just what in Sam Hill was she thinking selecting me? I never pay attention. He looked at his classmates in front of him; Carla glared with seething contempt. In fact, all the girls wore the same expression. But the boys, his best pals, whooped and hollered. A boy second-grade conductor hadn’t been picked since 1964.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Miss Hampton laughed. She handed Otis her precious baton. “All you have to do is tap the music stand when you’re ready, look at Mrs. Himmel to start playing, and then sweep your arms up and then down, out and in, over and over to the beat of the song, staying in time with Mrs. Himmel.”

She scooted over a small wooden crate for Otis to stand on so the second graders could all see him. She smiled as Otis looked at her again in sheer disbelief. “Go ahead, Otis. Start.”

Otis tapped the edge of the stand, looked over at Mrs. Himmel, and when she started playing, he moved his arms up and down, out and in, just like Miss Hampton told him. He felt awkward at first but soon felt the comfort of the motions and music. He began sweeping and swirling his arms and wrists throughout the two songs, which brought Miss Hampton out of her chair, clapping wildly, when they finished.

“Oh, Otis, magnificent job!”

As Otis made his way back to stand with his classmates, he noticed the girls fussing while the boys cheered, “Otis! Otis! Otis!” As he took his designated spot between Carla and Angela, Carla shot him a steely glare. “How did you get selected,” she hissed.

“Yeah, you never pay attention,” Angela spouted.

Although he didn’t disagree with them inwardly outwardly, he smiled and ignored them. He had no clue how he got picked. But he didn’t care. He would make Miss Hampton and the rest of the community proud. He felt the brotherly bond of friendship as Clark bent over and whispered loud enough for Carla and Angela to hear, “You’ll be a better conductor than any ol’ girl.”

By the time Otis got home from school that afternoon, excitement and ego had taken hold. He crashed in through the kitchen door and immediately shared the news with his mom and grandparents—Ed and Helen—who sat enjoying a cup of coffee. “And I’ll need something nice to wear, Mom,” he stated to Mavis. “I think a blazer and tie.”

“Oh, I still want Toughskins, Mom, but I also want a blazer,” he expressed. “Since I’ll be the best conductor, I want to be the bestdressed.”

“Alright, Otis,” Mavis sighed. “You needed something to wear for Christmas anyway. I can run you into the department store real quick before supper.”

“How about I take him?” Grandpa Ed piped up.

Mavis eyed her father-in-law. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” he assured her. “I’ll supervise that he gets something presentable for all the Christmas festivities.”

Mavis agreed with only slight hesitation. She knew the pair could get into mischief but surely couldn’t just buying clothes. “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

The warm, cozy smell of homemade chili and cornbread enveloped the kitchen. Otis’s favorite meal. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’d never be late for chili!”

*** Ed and Otis strolled between the clothing racks at Minnie’s Department Store, eyeing the holiday apparel. Otis scooted over to the boy’s blazers. His eyes landed on a festive red, orange, and gold plaid, and he immediately yanked it off the hanger. He slid his arms into the soft satin-lined coat. A perfect fit. He whirled around and piped up, “What do you think about this one, Grandpa?”

Ed walked over and inspected his grandson. The wild-colored plaid bubbled up a giggle in him, but he stifled it, not wanting to squash Otis’s excitement. “Oh, Otis, I think you look mighty sharp.” Sharp . . . and loud.

Otis rushed off to the tie section and immediately grabbed a red bowtie. “This one!”

Ed again held his giggle and nodded approval. “You need pants?”

Minnie had watched the entire shopping experience and stood waiting with a pair of gold Toughskins in one hand, a red pair in the other. Her brother owned a Sears thirty miles away, so she had the luxury of stocking a small assortment of Sears items. “How about one of these?”

Ed gave Minnie an “are you kidding” look. Surely Otis would select a more subdued color, like blue or black.

Otis grabbed the gold pair and raced to the dressing room. Minnie swiftly grabbed a white dress shirt and hurried behind him.

Ed groaned. What in Sam Hill was Minnie thinking? Gold pants?! He slid into a chair near the triple mirror on the wall by the changing rooms. He tried not to cringe when Otis roared out wearing his new attire.

To say the outfit was flashy would be an understatement. When Otis positioned himself in front of the mirror, the hideous triple-reflection effect multiplied into infinity. “Wow, Otis, you’re quite festive,” Grandpa Ed smiled. “Are you sure this is what you want to wear? It’s not just for the concert tomorrow, you know. This is it for Christmas. You’ll have to wear it to grange and church and our house for dinner.”

“It’s exactly what I want,” Otis stated. “I want to look my best for the concert. I am, after all, the second-grade conductor.” He emphasized the last part as he looked at Minnie. “Oh, Otis!” she breathed. “Congratulations!”

Ed again gave Minnie another “are you kidding” look, but Minnie just smiled and swished off to the register.

Mavis is going to kill me, Ed thought. But when Otis jumped out from behind the changing room curtain, his look of pure joy melted Ed. He walked over to write Minnie a check. His youngest grandson would undoubtedly be the standout at the school Christmas concert.

*** After consuming three bowls of chili and four pieces of cornbread, Otis ran upstairs to don his new clothes, then raced back downstairs to model for his family. He’d selected his white Converse sneakers to finish out his sporty new look. Mavis and Marvel smiled and said nothing, but the commentary from Otis’s siblings ranged from “cool” and “far out” to “you’re brighter than Rudolph’s nose” and “what in Sam Hill were you thinking?” Otis didn’t care; he loved his sharp duds and couldn’t wait to show off at the Christmas concert.

The school gymnasium hummed with excitement. The massive half-circle of risers faced the menagerie of people awaiting the annual holiday concert. The din settled when the students marched single file into the gym and took their designated spaces on the risers, kindergartners on the far left, the high school choir on the far right, and all the other classes sandwiched in order in the middle. Grandpa Ed immediately spied Otis. It wasn’t hard. In fact, Ed watched as a large portion of the crowd pointed and snickered when they saw his grandson. Otis certainly stood out; the other second-grade boys wore either white dress shirts or collared polo shirts with dark jeans or slacks. And no ties. If Otis’s goal was to stand out, he’d accomplished it in spades. Miss Hampton walked in front of the audience. The crowd hushed. “Welcome to the first all-class singing Christmas extravaganza. I’ve carefully selected musical pieces to kick off Christmas in style. I’ve also carefully selected this year’s class conductors, and for the finale, I will select one of those children to lead the entire group for our last song. Enjoy the show!”

The audience politely clapped, and the lights dimmed slightly. Ed glanced over at Mavis and winked. She grinned and shook her head. They both knew Otis was already the standout for the second grade, even before he started conducting. The kindergarteners stumbled through two songs, and the first graders slogged through theirs. Finally, the second graders were on. Otis confidently made his way down the risers to the podium, and before stepping up onto his crate, took a small bow with one arm folded across his stomach and the other stretched out. Ed laughed out loud. The kid has style, that’s for sure.

Otis stepped up on the crate and took Miss Hampton’s precious baton in his hand. He tapped the music stand, started to lift his arms into the air, but dropped the baton. It clattered onto the wooden floor. Oh, no! Not Miss Hampton’s special baton! He clamored off the crate to retrieve it, embarrassment filling him. He’d dropped the baton in front of everyone.

And that’s when it happened. All the chili Otis had eaten the night before concocted into a situation that, when he bent over to grab the baton, released itself into the air for all to hear.

BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPP!

It slipped out before he could even attempt to stop it. He quickly snatched the baton, jumped up on his crate, tapped the music stand, and flicked his eyes at Mrs. Himmel. He didn’t dare look at Miss Hampton. Mrs. Himmel was laughing so hard, the first few notes to “Jingle Bells” were clunkers, but she recovered, and the second grade wailed into the tune with Otis flailing his arms.

The girls sang tried and true, but the boys belted out with gusto and laughter. Otis spied Clark and started giggling, too, and in doing so, sped up his conducting motions to the point that Mrs. Himmel couldn’t keep up with the children. Finally, the song ended in a speedy jumble of “aonehorseopensleighHEY!” The audience rippled with clapping and snickering, but Otis didn’t care. A fart was always funny, one hundred percent of the time, especially to second-grade boys.

With confidence, he tapped the podium again, nodded at Mrs. Himmel—who was laughing all the way—and his classmates plunged into “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” Relieved of their nerves thanks to Otis’s flatulence, they boldly belted out the tune while offering up some of their best rockin’ contortions. When they finished, Otis turned and stretched his arms out as if to shout out, “Taaadaaaa! The Second Grade!”

The audience’s applause and laughter filled the cavernous space. Otis hopped down and scampered back into his spot. Carla and Angela looked at him with utter disgust, but the rest of his classmates quietly praised him with sheer jovial jocularity.

The rest of the classes couldn’t hold a candle to the second-grade display. The next closest performance was the high schoolers’ rendition of “Oh, Holy Night,” the exquisite harmonies bringing tears to a few eyes.

Finally, Miss Hampton stood up to announce the all-class conductor, but before she could utter a word, the community stood with applause and cheers, a few chanting, “Otis! Otis! Otis!” An impressive job interview for Miss Hampton, to say the least. When the din settled, she thanked them profusely for the support of the students. “It gives me great pleasure to announce our final song’s conductor. . .” She paused, maybe for emphasis, maybe from disbelief of what she was about to say. “Mr. Otis Swan.” The audience erupted into a frenzy, the likes of only Mick Jagger fans could match. Otis made his way to the podium and crate, now sitting center stage. He took his signature bow, jumped onto the crate, picked up the baton, and tapped the music stand. Silence suspended in the air for a blink, and Mrs. Himmel hit the beginning notes to “Deck the Halls.”

The glorious notes of practiced harmony and melody enveloped the gymnasium with a warmth only a close community can appreciate. Otis waved his arms in fluid motions, adding flourishes here and there for effect. Fa la la la la, la la la la never sounded so good.

As with any student body, if given an opportunity for mischief, they will jump in with reckless abandon. And, armed with the ability to whisper a secret at lightning speed, they can conspire, knowing that the severity of any potential punishment was always less if they were all in on it together.

When the final few verses of the song arrived, a distinct crescendo ensued.

“Troll the ancient Yuletide carol. . .”

Otis’s arms wildly flailed. Here it comes! The big finish!

“Fart la la la la, la la la laaaaaa!”

The entire gymnasium exploded to their feet in a tidal wave of applause, laughter, and good cheer. Miss Hampton also stood, stunned, shocked, astonished, and unsure what had just taken place. Who knew her Christmas miracle might be Otis Swan and his voluminous digestive issue? That little imp probably sealed the deal on her becoming the new Director of Arts.

*** Community and students meshed together after the performance to wish each other season’s greetings. Otis received a showering of adulation from almost all the adults. He also received a solid dose of admiration from most students, especially the high schoolers, peppering him with good-natured ribbing about his melodious derriere.

“Oh, Otis,” Grandpa Ed put his hand on his grandson’s shoulder as they all made their way out to the parking lot. “Your performance was outstanding.”

“I had so much fun!” Otis gushed. “I loved it! But Grandpa. . .” Otis stopped abruptly, indicating that Ed should stop, too, and bend closer to hear a secret.

Otis leaned over to his grandpa’s lowered head and whispered into his ear, “Grandpa, don’t tell anyone, but I got a lump in my throat and almost cried during “Oh, Holy Night!” Wouldn’t that have been totally embarrassing to cry in front of all those people?”

Ed chuckled, “Yes, Otis. That most certainly would have been embarrassing.”