whispered, suddenly forgetting the interview.
Jerry checked his watch. “Probably Gabi.”
“Gabi?”
“The four-year-olds’ teacher. She’s been here about six years. I wish I had a hundred just like her,” Jerry said as they walked toward the music. It was amazing, angelic, heavenly. “I think closing this place just might kill her before it does me.”
“Four-year-olds, huh?” Andrew asked, puzzled. “But I don’t hear them.”
“Wait ‘til painting time,” Jerry laughed as they left the hallway and entered the main room of the lobby. Andrew took one look at the woman at the piano and froze.
The music flowed through her very soul, and for that moment nothing else existed. Life itself was put on hold. Gabi had often thought that making beauty in the world was her reason for being here, and she never squandered that belief by doing anything creative halfway. Painting, drawing, writing, music — they were all beautiful, and they were exactly what these children needed. Beauty in a barren, bleak world.
When the last note sounded, the world around Andrew stood in silent awe for one, brief moment. Then the children began clapping, and somehow he got his own hands to join in.
Gabi smiled modestly and hugged Leslie to her.
“That was great, Miss T,” Leslie said, snagged securely in awe of her teacher.
“More!” the children chorused.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Gabi carefully lifted Leslie off the bench. “Right now, it’s snack time.”
“Snack time!” the children chorused, quickly standing.
“Buddies,” Gabi reminded them, and instantly all the children were paired up with one left over to hold her hand as happened more often than not.
And once again she flitted from Andrew’s grasp.
“Anyway, Andrew, I know you’re a busy man,” Jerry said as Gabi and the four-year-olds exited down the hallway. He looked at Andrew, sensing something had drastically altered the situation in the last few minutes, but not knowing exactly what that something was. “I hope I’ve answered all your questions.”
Suddenly Andrew was in no great hurry to leave. “You know Jerry, I think I might have just a few more if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, well. Okay. Sure. Ask away.”
Gabi herded her charges back into the room just as the halls filled with students coming in from the schools down the block. Without the center, many of these kids will have no place to go after school, she thought, renewing her determination to get more of the grants finished tonight.
“Story! Story!” the kids chanted in unison.
“All right,” Gabi said, her mind already on other projects, “why don’t you all sit down or lay down, and I’ll read you the story of the Frog Prince?”
“Yay!”
Andrew couldn’t figure out for a moment where all the noise had suddenly come from, but when he stepped back out into the hall from Jerry’s office, he was engulfed by bodies — thousands of them it seemed.
He looked around at them, and panic clutched his stomach and lungs. Many of them looked identical to the street gangs he’d heard so much about but had never had cause to meet — until now, and suddenly they were everywhere at once.
Just act cool, he told himself as a few of the students glanced his way. Just act cool, walk slowly and get out of here.
Slowly, carefully, he made his way to the door. If one of the kids had said boo, he would’ve run for dear life, but most of them just stared at him — if they noticed him at all, and in no time he was back in his car, headed out of Collins as fast as he could go.
However, somehow the stereotype of Collins that ran through his mind constantly had forever been altered when he’d heard that music. That wonderful, magnificent, unbelievable music.
“So, what’s up?” Gabi asked when Jerry walked into her classroom after the kids had all gone home. She was in the middle of wiping the paint off of the tiny table in front