The Melody of My Roots
by Sophie Liu Xiao Tong 6D
This short story was written for the He(a)rd Zine, a Hong Kong-based magazine that showcases young student writers. The theme of this issue is Soundtrack.
“Clara, listen to me. What are you thinking about?” said my teacher, Ms. Amelia.
“Sorry, I was daydreaming.” I stood up.
“But my name is Claire, Miss.”
Ms. Amelia frowned, she said, “I remember your name is Clara. When did it change?”
“No, miss. This is my name. I will never change it.” I sat down slowly and kept doing my classwork.
Silence filled the air, with some laughter from some naughty students. I never knew what was happening. I was a transfer student who had just moved to England for two months.
At first, they called me “the new one”, but then, they started calling me Clara for no reason. But I have to admit that my name is Claire, they were wrong.
Oh! Yes! I forgot to tell you. I made a friend called Cindy. She was a nice girl with glasses. She always told me it’s okay to be a new student. With her, I felt better. We are from the same country, which is China, but she came to England earlier than me.
We both had a dream to spread our culture, which is traditions and music. At first, we were just singing to our friends, but then, a girl from Africa heard our songs. She asked us if she could join us. She told us about herself before we could say anything. She told us her name was Makena, it means “the Happy one”.
Well, Makena sure looks joyful. Her violet dress and brown hair always flies when she twirls. Her smile is brightful like sunshine.
Then, we met a boy named Carlos; he is from Spain. We couldn't refuse him with his blue eyes full of sincerity.
“Can I join you guys?” Carlos asked. He has gold hair and always wears a blue shirt, too. His smile was warm like gloves in winter. We started investigating our music talents. I'm not good at playing instruments, but I sang well. Cindy was writing all the words. Makena was the one writing the melody and Carlos is playing them out.
Carlos plays the guitar, and I laughed at him sometimes because he said he is going to play guitar with his wife when he grows up. It is their culture.
“You don’t even have a girlfriend!” I laughed.
“When I grow up, I will have one,” he answered. Carlos is really a nice boy. If you laugh at him, he will just smile and not be angry.
We went to my dorm because it was the biggest of all. Cindy and I sang while Carlos played guitar and Makena played her African drum. Sometimes we would invite my sister to dance.
“So we got together to celebrate the winter! We were together celebrating the snow! We should be together with all our friends! Here! Where the flowers grow! Up in the air, where little birds fly! We are always here!”
My sister twirled her yellow dress. She laughed and clapped. “We are always here to celebrate, always together!”
As the song ended, my sister clapped and yelled, “Bravo! Best song!”
We wrote songs about nature, but there was a little bully team of students. I don’t like them, they are mean and stubborn. They always laugh at us and our music. Their leader’s name is Ivy who likes to tell others about our music and laughs at us.
I’m really impulsive, and I really wanted to smack her face. But Carlos and Cindy pulled me back and shook their heads fearfully.
Ivy just smiled like an arrogant snake.
“What are you going to do now? I’m not afraid of you!” She demanded aggressively.
Makena was furious too. She clenched his fists in anger. Cindy grabbed her and pulled her back.
Some kids surrounded us and we heard evil laughter.
“Stop making your stupid music!”
She said, “Music is not stupid! It’s the spirit of Africa!”shouted Makena.
“Keep quiet, ‘wild girl’. I didn’t ask about you and your useless ‘music spirit'." Ivy ridiculed, “Music should be elegant like a violin, not like those bold drums.”
“Yeah! Those brutal drums are noises!” repeated a boy. Makena almost punched him in the face. We pulled her back using all our strength.
“Makena! Calm down! We felt bad for you too! Don’t do this!” screamed Cindy. Ivy just smiled maliciously and looked at her, like looking at a poor kid who got lost.
“What are you guys doing there?!” asked a teacher. The kids separated quickly like a drop of ink which dipped into the water.
Makena was still furious, “Next time, I will smash you guys like glasses!” she cried.
During lunch break, the kids came back.
“Look at them! The music ones. One was playing old Chinese music, one was playing bold guitar, one was playing wild drums. Stupid!” She screamed at us in excitement. Her eyes opened wide. The kids surrounded us, some pushed Makena. Cindy held her. Makena almost fell down. I saw fire in Makena’s eyes.
She pushed Ivy as hard as she could:
“Stop bothering us. Go away!” Ivy was shocked. She stood up quietly and gave us a malicious smile.
“What do you want? Uncourteous girl! You thought that I would be afraid of you? What are you going to do now? Crying like a baby?”She smeared Makena. The kids around her laughed. She held her hands up, she was going to punch Makena.
“What are you kids doing?!”screamed a teacher. It’s Ms.Amelia, our teacher. The kids ran away, Ms.Amelia walked here quickly. I saw her white dress fly as she ran here. She looks like a butterfly.
“Did any of you get hurt? She asked. We said no. Ms. Amelia checked us carefully,
“What happened?” She asked, her red hair was like a fire in the wind. We explained to her, she was silent. Then, she knelt down and looked at Makena:
“Makena, I know that you love music. But, violence is not the right way to solve problems. You shouldn’t push Ivy, even if she’s done mean things.” Makena’s face was red, I saw her eyes wet. I put my hands on her shoulder, Cindy shook her head, Carlos sighed.
“I don’t want to hurt her, but she laughed at me and my music friends…they pushed me and…I was mad!” She started to cry. I gave her a hug. Cindy hugged her too.
Carlos came up and said, “Ms. Amelia, we will apologise to Ivy, but we want her to stop laughing at us.” Miss Amelia nodded at us.
“I got an idea,” said Cindy. “How about we have a music show in front of the school?”
Miss Amelia thought for a moment. “Sure,” she said, “I will help you kids to ask the principal for a music show.”
“Thank you, Miss Amelia.” said Makena with tears in her eyes. Ms. Amelia smiled, “You’re welcome. I love music too.” she said.
After that day, Ivy and her friends kept bothering us, but we didn't care. They laughed at us, but we just looked at them and walked away.
Days later, Miss Amelia told us that the principal agreed with this music show. Now she is responsible for this.
“How about you kids? Show me what songs did you kids make up?" So, we brought our instruments and played with her. Her mouth was wide, “Bravo!”she yelled excitedly. “It’s the best song I have heard.” We needed to play five songs, so we worked hard for it.
Finally, we composed the five songs. One is about nature, one is about the seasons, one is about friendship, one is about school, one is about nationality. We practice hard. Miss Amelia will clap for us if she thinks it was good. The day before the show, we found our instrument was broken. It was Ivy and her friends, they went into the practice room and broke our instruments when we weren’t there.
“What should we do now?” panicked Carlos.
Miss Amelia was furious, and she found Ivy immediately.
“Why did you break the school instruments?” she asked.
“It was just… just for… for fun.” said Ivy. “Do you know there's a music show tomorrow?” asked Miss Amelia.
Ivy nodded, “Yes, madame. I know… so… I broke the…instruments.” she said.
“Tell your parents to come to the school and give the money to repair instruments.” she said and handed Ivy her phone.
“No!” screamed Ivy, her eyes opened wide with fear. Miss Amelia phones her parents in wrath. Ivy's parents paid for the instruments quickly and apologised to us for her misbehaviour, then Miss Amelia sent Ivy home.
“Quick! We better find someone who can repair these instruments!” Ms.Amelia said in a hurry, dragging my hand, walking out the school like a goat running away from the predator. Makena raised her hand, “Miss Amelia,” Makena said.
“My grandmother can repair them.”
So they sent the instrument to Makena’s grandma. She was an old lady with white hair, she moved as slow as a turtle. But now, we are all in a hurry, there’s no time for us to wait. Ms. Amelia still gave the instruments to her, cause she’s the only one we can trust now. Fortunately, Makena’s grandmother repaired it quickly. At the music show, we finally played our music.
“The sunshine in winter! Did you remember it?” We sang and laughed. As we finished the last song, the people clapped for us,some of them stood up blowing whistles.
“Bravo!” They yelled and clapped. Finally, no one is looking at our music in an unfriendly way. Finally, our music was accepted, this is our culture.
“What shall we call the last song?” ask Miss Amelia, oh, I almost forgot we haven’t got a name for the last song.
“Hmm,” I thought for a moment.The song was about cultures together and nationality. “We should call it ‘The Melody of My Roots’, because it sure is.” I said.
“Sure! Great name,” said Carlos, laughing delightfully.
“We should play again.” Makena giggled like a child.
“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time.” Smiled Cindy proudly. We laughed, joked together and walked back to our dorms together.
In the future, we will play a lot of songs together. No one will laugh at us again, if there is, we don’t care about it anymore. I’m glad I had these friends with me.
The most important thing is, we are together, playing music, laughing, singing, all together, always.