Jennifer was in Mr Bloom’s class at Half Hitch Elementary. The classroom was the same size as Mrs Kipper’s next door, and everyone sat with their tables in a big circle so everyone could look at each other.
Mr Bloom, who Jennifer thought was a wonderful teacher, normally stood in the middle of this circle. He had a wonderful voice, and everyone enjoyed listening to him and asking questions. The only time he’d stop with his lesson is when the green speaker in the far high corner of the classroom crackled in to life - because this was the speaker that Mrs Perrinpeas, the headmistress, would use for special announcements.
“I have noticed this term,” began Mrs Perrinpeas as the class turned to look at the speaker in the corner. “That there is so much talent at this school, so much individual talent, that sometimes even our wonderful lessons do not allow it to shine. Therefore, I announce today that on Friday afternoon we shall have another of our famous talent contests. Any pupil who wishes to enter, and take five minutes to show us any skill that they wish, may tell their teacher. I look forward to a wonderful show. Good morning.”
Well, everyone in Mr Bloom’s class looked at each other excitedly.
“Mr Bloom,” said Simon. “Does that mean we can do anything we like?”
“I suppose it does,” said Mr Bloom. “But you don’t need to decide if you wish to enter now. Why not think about it this evening, and anyone who wishes to do so can tell me tomorrow.”
One thing that Jennifer knew for sure is that she wasn’t going to enter. She didn’t want to stand on a stage in front of the whole school, and even if she did - what would she do? She didn’t have any talents for the talent contest.
That evening, Jennifer was using the computer at home to make music. It wasn’t the sort of music that you’d get from a guitar, or a trumpet, or a violin. It was computer music, and sounded like electronics. Her mummy and daddy always asked her to put on headphones because sometimes it just sounded like noises - but to Jennifer it was beautiful.
As she played, inventing even more sounds that might have been made by aliens, she didn’t even notice her brother Dan stood behind her listening.
“You know what, Jen? That’s really good. Why don’t you play everyone some of your music at the talent contest?”
Jennifer looked around and laughed. “People don’t want to hear my music,” she said. “They’d think a car alarm had gone off!”
Dan laughed. “No, don’t be silly. It’s good! It’s… it’s interesting!”
“But only to me,” said Jennifer, and put her headphones back on.
The next morning in class, Mr Bloom asked if anyone wished to enter Friday’s talent contest. Only two people, Simon and Susan, shyly put their hands up but Jennifer kept hers firmly by her side.
At lunchtime, everyone in the school gathered around a big board by the hall to see who, from each class, had put their names down. All in all, there were twenty contestants.
“Hey, Jennifer! You’re really brave for entering,” said one of the older girls. “Well done!”
Jennifer was confused and looked at the list more carefully. ‘Jennifer - Mr Bloom’s Class’ was written along with the other names.
Her mouth opened in horror. “But I didn’t…”
“Of COURSE you did,” said her brother Dan, patting her on the back. “Or at least, I did for you.”
“WHY?” gasped Jennifer.
“Because you’re GOOD,” said Dan, and headed off with his friends.
That lunch, Jennifer sat with her friend Alison barely able to eat.
“Oh life would be so much easier without brothers,” said Jennifer. “They think they’re right and helping when actually they’re wrong and just making a whole mess.”
Alison laughed. “That sounds like my brother, too. But don’t worry - I can’t wait to hear your music.”
As it was impossible to cancel your application to the talent contest Jennifer realized that all she could do was to practice as hard as she could all evening on the computer. “Oh,” she moaned to herself, “why is it the harder you try and do anything, the more difficult it seems?”
Her daddy, who has snuck up behind her to watch, laughed. “That’s how I feel at work sometimes,” he said.
“But none of it is working, Dad,” said Jennifer. “I need to plug in the red lead but I can’t find it.”
Her Daddy looked at the pile of leads that Jennifer had collected to plug into the equipment that made her music.
“Maybe I can find it,” he suggested.
“You have trouble finding your glasses,” said Jennifer, “how are you going to help me find a lead when you don’t even know what is it?”
Jennifer bowed her head. “Sorry, Daddy. I know you’re just trying to help. But I’m nervous.”
Daddy laughed again. “I think you’re probably right,” he said. “Now, where are my glasses?”
On the Friday of the talent contest, Daddy drove Jennifer, Dan and all her equipment to school in the car and helped take it all into the hall where Jennifer set it up on the stage. She was feeling sick with nerves and couldn’t concentrate on her lessons all morning.
She couldn’t eat at lunchtime either, but Alison understood and sat sat next to her as a friend, telling her there was nothing to worry about.
Jennifer sighed. “People only say ‘there’s nothing to worry about’ when there’s something very big to worry about or they wouldn’t say it in the first place.” She shook her head. This was hopeless.
The talent show began that afternoon in the hall with the whole school gathered on two hundred chairs facing the stage. Jennifer and the other contestants stood behind the stage waiting to be called up. Some people had sung, some people had danced, all to great applause, and then Jennifer heard Mrs Perrinpeas announce her name.
Barely believing she was doing it, Jennifer walked up onto the stage, not daring to look at all the people watching her. Then, one of the strange things about Half Hitch School began to happen - it started to rain indoors.
Everyone was used to that happening and normally just put on their hats, but Jennifer could see the problem immediately: it was making the wires and power plugs all wet! Water and electricity was very dangerous and then - disaster! Sparks flew from the sockets and her computer screen went dark.
Jennifer stared out at the audience - there was no way she could do her show now.
A microphone used by one of the singers was still at the front of the stage and so, bravely, she approached it.
“Sorry, everyone,” she said. “But to be honest, that rain has probably done you all a big favour.”
A few people laughed kindly. That made her feel better. She took the microphone out of the stand and began to hold it more comfortably.
“Because, if I played you my music - you’d probably just think a load of car alarms were going off.”
This time, everyone laughed. But Jennifer just felt frustrated at the whole situation.
“I didn’t even enter this contest!” she said, beginning to walk up and down the stage with the microphone. “My brother did it for me! Why is it that when brothers think they’re right and helping they’re actually just wrong and making a whole mess?”
Everyone in the hall, including Dan, and even the teachers, laughed.
“My daddy tried to help!” Jennifer announced. “How was he supposed to find a lead? He can’t even find his glasses!”
The hall was in uproar.
“And don’t you all find that the harder you try to do anything, the more difficult it becomes? What’s all that about?”
Everyone was laughing and clapping. Jennifer went to speak for another three minutes before leaving the stage to thunderous applause.
“Well,” she thought, backstage. “At least I didn’t have to do my act. But I did sort of mess up the whole contest. I hope I’m not in too much trouble.”
After all the performers had finished, Mrs Perrinpeas went onto the stage to announce the winner.
“Our winner is…” she called. “Jennifer! Mr Bloom’s class.”
Jennifer walked back onto the stage to get her trophy in a daze.
“But I didn’t do anything!” she said.
“Oh, but you did,” said Mrs Perrinpeas. “You showed one of the greatest talents anyone can have - that, of being yourself.”
Everyone applauded wildly.
“And on top of that,” said Mrs Perrinpeas, looking at Jennifer proudly. “You were very, very funny.”
