An exercise in writing: Trena's Solo

I preferred a front-row seat, so if anyone else came in I wouldn't have to worry about them blocking my view, however I didn't want to make Trena nervous by sitting right in the front and pointing my camera straight at her face, so I asked my husband to pick our seat. He picked the second row, close to the door. We sat down and I looked around. There were five shelves of books on the wall, some labeled, but I only noticed the ones marked "poetry." I glanced at the whiteboards and saw several terms I learned when I was first introduced to Shakespeare, like "soliloquy" and "sonnet."  After taking in all these signs I decided this was an English room. The word "Kerns" was taped to the back of all the chairs in the row in front of us. According to my husband this was probably the teacher's name.
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I looked at yet another shelf in the front and saw a favorite book from my childhood, "Clan of the Cave Bears." I read it when I was 14. I was amused that 14 years after I was 14 I found someone else who liked the book I used to like, and out of the whole planet, here in this tiny school that was literally in the middle nowhere surrounded by corn fields.
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Two white ceiling fans spun cool air down on us as we waited. My eyes wandered to the door wondering how long it would be before they would start. I noticed a science fiction reference, specifically a STAR TREK reference, over the door!
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All kids that left the classroom were met with the words: "Live Long and Prosper," an old Vulcan sign of respect. I had no idea who this teacher was, or even if it was a Mr or a Mrs Kerns, but I knew I liked him/her!! So much awesome and my particular weird lay in this small classroom.
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Just as I was wondering if this was a grade school, middle school, or high school classroom (I was settling on the probability that it was Junior High level) Trena walked in. She was wearing a dress she ordered online that I thought was borderline too small ( I think she should ignore the stupid number that denotes size and order bigger just so she can have the outfit longer, but she constantly assures me that I am stupid), clunky black shoes, and the white knit sweater she borrowed from my closet. She walks in confidently and passes her father and I and moves to the piano that's tucked into a corner near the whiteboards. After a quick whisper from her choir coach, she walks to the back of the room and gives the judge her music.
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The judge quickly peruses the music and then motions to the choir coach, who starts playing the piano.
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Trena sings her song with good voice and with decent emotion. I tried to send Trena a hand motion signalling that her hands are clutched together in front of her, giving away how nervous she is, but she doesn't look at me. Not with the big black eye of the video camera staring at her.
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She finishes her song and smiles brightly at the judge. The judge told her to sing a scale. The smile leaves Trena's face so quickly you would have thought someone smacked it off. Trena attempted a scale. She had to start over twice. Her bold strong voice was suddenly small and shaky. She finished the scale finally and she did an okay job, except the clutching hands suddenly became wringing hands. The judge asked her to do a minor scale, and Trena confessed she couldn't. The judge told her to take her best shot. I was a little miserable because I cannot sing but after 17 years of playing the flute, I knew scales, and I could have done the minor scale for her but of course it doesn't work that way. I was also a little disgusted with the choir coach that scales aren't done and practiced every single day, but later Trena told me they are actually supposed to practice scales and in fact she practiced before she came into the room, she just couldn't remember by the time she got there.
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The judge gives Trena her review. Mostly good marks, needs to work on her hand position and her scales. Trena leaves happy that it's all over.
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The judge ended up giving her a "I" (one/first). I was happy for her.
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There will only be a few more moments like these. Trena is 18 and graduating soon. I am enjoying every moment I have. As we left I wished Mr/s Kerns a great weekend, even though it's unlikely I'll ever meet him/her.