Little Boy Blue

Little boy blue,
Come blow your horn.
The sheep's in the meadow,
The cows in the corn.
And where is the little boy who looks after the sheep?
Under the haystack, fast asleep.
Will you wake him?
No, not I,
For if I do, he's sure to cry.

Music drifted up through the halls, but not the music that usually
comes from the Music Room. This music was wild, and erratic, the
instrumentals of such wicked bands as Metallica, Iron Maiden,
Rammstein, Rob Zombie, and others. It was lunch though, and the room
was open to all students. As much as Mr. Grahm disliked the music
played, he knew that he couldn't kick him out for that reason. It would
stifle the students creative stream.

Mr. Grahm stood in the doorway, looking at the three students gathered
inside the room. The one with the guitar, making all the noise was
Brecken Blau, a loud, dark-haired young man, who made his presence
known passing through the halls and through the grades, not a student
teachers forgot. His girlfriend, Mara Simms, was pretty, in a shy, girl
next door way, completely opposite from Brecken, not that it seemed to
make any difference. Love was blind, Mr. Grahm guessed. The third was
Brecken's best friend, the eccentric poet and playwright, the quiet
genius, a scruffy, small geek with thick lens glasses, and dark,
probing eyes, Derk James Von Reisbeck. Derk seemed focused on the paper
in front of him, as he listened to the racing cords of Brecken's
guitar. His writing was scrawled all over the paper, sloppy lyrics
written to Brecken's music as it went along. Mara was curled up at
Brecken's feet, eyes half closed, auburn hair swept back, so peaceful,
and relaxed, Mr. Grahm wondered for a moment if she even heard the
music going on around her. Brecken's music shuddered to an end, it's
death rattle fading to an ominus silence, and both he and Mara turned
their eyes over to Derk, who scrawled down a few last lines then
surrendered the lyrics over to Brecken.

Someone slid up behind Mr. Grahm, and he turned to see the Vice
Principal, Ms. Jacobs, standing there, her lips pursed in disapproval.
She was ancient, a wrinkled, papery old lady, bent with age, however,
her eyes were still a crisp, alert blue. She looked up at Mr.
Grahm,

"Jason, what are they doing in there?" Mr. Grahm remembered Alitera
Jacobs since he was in high school, when he had her for his algebra
class. He answered her,

"That is Boy Blue and the Sheep. The next big thing to hit the music
charts." Ms. Jacobs snorted, and shook her head,

"What are there names?" Mr. Grahm told her. Ms. Jacobs took it in, her
well trained mind picking them out of the thousands who went there
easily.

"Blau, the slacker? He fails nearly every class, hasn't he got
something better to do? Like preparing for his future?" She looked over
the other two and added, "As for them, they are both bright, strait A
students." There was scorn and disgust dripping from her voice. Ms.
Jacobs had never had much patience for kids and it showed now. Mara,
Brecken and Derk were deep in conversation, probly discussing how to
make their latest masterpiece perfect. In a way, Mr. Grahm envied their
commitment to their music. He looked back over to Ms. Jacobs who barked
out,

"I want you to stop them." Mr. Grahm shook his head, and looked back
tat the students who were going back to their song, Brecken strumming
light cords on his guitar, and Mara and Derk looking over the revised
lyrics. They were getting ready to practice it, this time with words.
Mr. Grahm said,

"I can't do that Alitera. They have every right to practice their
music." Ms. Jacobs eyes narrowed. She disliked the use of her first
name by a former student. And she disliked being denied. She wavered a
stern finger in front of his face, and growled, a deep sound quite
unnatural for such a small, dehydrated lady,

"It's noise pollution, and I will not have it. Besides, I hear that
those three spend all their time in there, even skipping class to do
so." Mr. Grahm choked back a smile,

"Only when there is no class in here." Bright pinpricks of angry blue
fixed him firmly in his place,
"You think this is funny, Jason Grahm?" Mr. Grahm adopted a blank
look,

"Alitera, I am no longer your student, you cannot speak to me in such a
tone. You will be retiring soon, and I will probly be the one to take
your place. The music room is free for students. I see nothing wrong."
Ms. Jacobs sucked in a deep, strangled breath and stalked away,
hissing,

"This shall not be the end, Jason." Mr. Grahm watched her walk away,
then sagged against the doorway, his angry trailing her like a bad
stench.

The music flared up again, this time richer with Derk's voice, a deep,
mellow sound despite the rougher music. Mr. Grahm watched them a little
while longer, until the bell rang. The music came to a stop, and the
students looked almost melancholy as they gathered up their stuff to
get to their next class. They passed by Mr. Grahm, Brecken giving him a
slight smile and a nod, Derk chirping,

"Thank you Mr. Grahm." But Mara stopped shyly, her eyes cast away from
his, and held out a flyer to him, saying ina soft, respectful
voice,

"We would love for you to come, Mr. Grahm." Then she hurried after the
waiting boys, all three melting into the crowds that seemed to appear
out of nowhere, like a dust storm, but louder. Mr. Grahm looked down at
the flyer in his hand. Neon green paper, with the words The Cellar
stamped across the top in a stencil font. On it was a date, for that
Friday, and a listing of bands. Boy Blue was there as well. He smiled,
nodding at the students that filed past him, and feeling jubilant, and
maybe just a little bit smug. Maybe he would even invite Ms.
Jacobs.