Whatever Gods May Be by Kai Harris #3
“As ready as I think I’m gonna be,” I said, palms wet.
Jrue grabbed my hand to lead me toward the director of the Jubilee Singers.
On the way, I oscillated between embarrassment for my sweaty palms (now attached to Jrue’s cool, dry ones), fear at the idea of voluntarily singing for anyone, and nostalgia for my granny.
I can’t wait to tell her, I thought as we approached the stage.
“Dr. Watkins,” Jrue said, shaking hands with a tall man. “This is Myra, the singer I told you about. She’s preparing an audition for the music major, and I think you need to hear her sing, too.”
I distracted myself from sheer embarrassment by studying the director as they talked.
Salt-and-pepper beard, with a short fade up top.
Probably fifties or sixties, though it was hard to tell because he didn’t have a single wrinkle, not on his skin or in his three-piece suit.
Though he didn’t speak loudly, you would think he did because the room hushed every time his mouth opened.
“Myra,” Jrue said, now looking at me. “This is Dr. Watkins.”
I stared at my feet and mumbled, “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you here to sing for me, Miss Myra?” Dr. Watkins said, sizing me up.
“Well.” I blushed. “I was hoping maybe we could wait? My audition for the major is tomorrow, and honestly, I’d prefer not to sing twice.”
Dr. Watkins laughed and made a face at Jrue. “She doesn’t like to sing, huh?” Looking back at me he added, “You know, if you were to join the Singers, you would sing a lot more than twice.”
Jrue laughed awkwardly. “She knows that,” he said pseudo-confidently. “She just needs a little more time to prepare, right?” He shot daggers with his eyes that pierced my bubble of nerves.
“Yes, of course,” I said, straightening my posture. “I was a music major at my previous university, and I’m excited to get back on track with that here.”
“Mm-hmm,” hummed Dr. Watkins with a skeptical glance.
“Well, I happen to know exactly what the music chair is looking for in her majors. Perhaps you’d like to give me a little preview?
I’d be happy to put in a good word. Once I hear you sing, of course.
” He studied me with the gaze of a man whose opinion would carry a lot of weight.
“If it’s all the same to you,” I whispered, “let’s stick with tomorrow.”
Dr. Watkins made a hmph sound, propping his chin and tilting his head to consider me from first one angle, then another. “Do you know much about the Jubilee Singers, Miss Myra?”
I nodded but decided against telling him about my granny and her fairy tales.
“We uphold a strong legacy here. Jubilee Singers are the royalty of Fisk University. Leaders who carry a great deal of responsibility on campus. Even being considered is an honor.” He paused, closing his eyes slightly.
“As director, my role is about more than listening to people sing. There’s also a spiritual component.
I hand select every Singer. I pray before each audition and fast before making a single selection.
That said”—he circled around me—“I have a feeling about you. And the timing makes it seem even more destined. See, this rarely happens midyear, but we just so happen to have an opening. And with the way Jrue described your voice, well, I’d love to hear you sing. ”
My heart was racing. I was either ecstatic or about to pass out.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow,” he continued, “so you have time to prepare. I’ll arrange for the music chair to conduct your audition here at the same time. Since you don’t want to sing twice.” He winked. “How does that sound, Miss Myra?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how I’d gone from one audition to possibly two. Just then I caught Jrue giving me a thumbs-up from the corner of my eye, and I remembered. Ugh, boys.
“See you tomorrow,” Dr. Watkins called cheerily before turning to address his choir. I could hear the echoes of their rich harmonies still reverberating in my ears when I was halfway down the hall. Then I heard an equally melodious voice call out from behind me.
“Hey, wait up,” Jrue said, jogging my way.
I tucked my head and tried my best to become invisible. After all that Jrue had done to get me in front of Dr. Watkins, I’d basically frozen. I was embarrassed and expecting a confrontation.
But when he reached me, his face was filled with compassion.
I tried to avoid his eye contact but when I eventually gave in and met his gaze, I nearly melted on impact.
There was something about Jrue that felt familiar, here in this place where everything else was so new.
Despite my hesitations, I couldn’t help but give in to that good feeling. So, I let myself melt.
“Hi,” I finally said.
“Hi,” he said back.
And for a while, we just walked together, without saying anything else. His steps were unhurried, and he walked in a crooked line that kept him bumping his elbow into mine every few steps. Either he had an issue with coordination, or he was trying to find an excuse to touch me…
“What happened back there?” Jrue spoke softly.
“Don’t you need to finish rehearsal?”
“Nah, this is my day off. I was just there for you. Wanna sit somewhere and strategize?”
I nodded and followed him, internally gushing over the whole “I was just there for you” part.
“The way he kept saying your name was kinda creepy. Miss Myra, ” Jrue mimicked, as we settled beside each other on an upholstered bench. “Maybe I need to start calling you Rose instead.”
My eyes grew wide. “Why would you say that? Where’d you get that from?”
Jrue chuckled and grabbed my phone out of my hand, turning it over to reveal the stickers decorating the back of my case. Covered by an assortment of roses, all in different shapes and colors.
“Oh, right.”
“Do you just love roses or—”
“It’s my granny’s name,” I cut in, “and my middle name, too.”
“Dope! Are y’all close?”
“Yeah, super close.” I paused thoughtfully. “She’s actually the reason why I came here.”
“Oh yeah? She a Fiskite, too?”
I shook my head with a smile. “Not in real life, but in her mind, for sure. Once it was time for me to start college, well, you know how it goes.” I shrugged. “My parents pretty much decided for me, which is why I started at UofM. But when I needed to leave, I knew exactly where I’d go.”
“Why did you need to leave?” Jrue asked carefully, as if he knew it was a minefield.
I shrugged with pretend nonchalance. “Just wasn’t a good place for me.”
“I feel that,” Jrue replied. “Real talk, Jubilee has been like my home away from home. It’s where I found my place here when I was a little lost sophomore, kinda like somebody else I know.”
I pushed Jrue playfully as he winked. “You gotta see what fits for you, though. Get involved with other stuff. As much as I hope my people will be your people, maybe there’s another place on campus that’ll feel more like home.
It’s kinda like…cookies,” Jrue said thoughtfully.
“All of us here, we’re cookies. No brownies or pies or cupcakes or whatever. Cookies.”
I giggled and wrinkled my brow at his strange analogy.
“The best thing about being at an HBCU is that you don’t really have to find your community. ’Cause it’s all of us. You just have to find your tribe. It’s like, we’re all cookies, but what kind of cookie are you?”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“So, tell me this. What did you do at your last school?”
“Classes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Mostly. I did get into going to football games at the Big House, though. Oh, and I did a fashion show once, ’cause my roommate was one of the organizers.”
Jrue paused curiously before speaking. “We’ll get back to that. But I meant clubs, organizations, teams. Stuff like that.”
“Oh, right,” I said, hiding my embarrassment behind my elbow. “Yeah, well, just one. I’m a Delta. I didn’t really have time for anything else, besides that.”
Jrue made the face that every Black person makes when they find out I’m a Delta—a mix of respect, intrigue, and, depending on their own backstory, either distaste or admiration.
The Divine Nine was never on my radar before I started college.
Neither of my parents had pledged, and my first introduction to sororities and fraternities on the UofM campus was the white ones, with their giant on-campus houses that came equipped with cleaning ladies, their front lawn red Solo Cup soirees, and, famously, their foam parties.
During freshman year welcome week, I learned there were Black sororities and fraternities on campus, too, the Divine Nine (or eight, in my case, because the AKAs on our campus had been snatched for over a decade).
“Being a Delta was honestly the highlight of my time at UofM. And a big part of why it was hard to leave. As much as I knew I wanted to transfer here, I was also pretty comfortable there.”
“That’s real. You know, the Alpha Beta chapter here is mad dope! Have you met any of ’em? Maybe you could get active with the Deltas here, so you don’t have to lose that.”
“I don’t know, it kinda seems like a lot. I’m already working on the music major, and now the Jubilee audition…I don’t wanna do too much, you know?”
“There’s one person I know of who’s Greek and in Jubilee. And she happens to also be a Delta. Her name is Amani. Maybe you should talk to her. See what her experience is like.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said, biting my lip.
“Why not? What are you afraid of?”
Being a disappointment, for starters, I thought. After all that was sacrificed for me to be here. “I just can’t afford for this to fail,” I eventually mouthed, just above a whisper.
“You’re not gonna fail, Rose. I won’t let you.”
My heart fluttered at the sweet sound of the name I shared with Granny in his mouth. “You won’t let me,” I said, placing my hands on my hips playfully. “Why not? What’s in it for you?”