The Epistle of Mimi the Sousaphone Player
And it came to pass, in the southern land of the province of Florida, in the time when summer moves into autumn, a girl took onto herself a great weight.
The girl, so named Mimi, because of the naming of her mother and her mother’s mother, exercised her agency and took upon her small frame the shoulder-drooping burden of a sousaphone.
Brass weighing as much as a large child, made up the bell. The swooping neck circled Mimi’s own, settling upon her shoulders the breadth of this load.
Mimi, being short in stature, but mighty in heart, took no notice of the great distance between the top of her bell and the tops of the others bells in the line, for she had no need to prove her betterment to anyone.
In her dreams, as a young child, she’d imagined carrying the instrument, and sounding forth the great, rumbling notes that laid the foundation for a production of such great magnitude that it could hardly be described.
Many years Mimi had spent in preparation for this moment of her young life. Sacrifices of friends, social gatherings, and even social status had been easily made with the final goal of this opportunity shining brightly in her mind.
Some scorned her, saying she would fail, leaving a void that would provide shame for Mimi and her family for years to come.
Mimi hastily propelled such thoughts from her mind, and placed upon her head a hat with a tall, red plume flowing from the top.
The instrument sat upon the ground, and Mimi leveraged it until she could yoke herself within its confines. Then, with a mighty, but silent, yell in her mind, she straightened her legs and lifted the sousaphone into the air.
Those who had stopped to watch looked away, whether in embarrassment or shame, Mimi could not know, nor did she care.
A voice sounded. “Did you forget something?”
The air in Mimi’s lungs seemed to still, and she slowly turned toward the voice.
Brent, so named for his uncle Brent, held in his hand a bag of fluffy balls of white.
In her haste to ready herself, she had let thoughts of the cotton balls slip from her mind.
Brent eased his stern expression, and motioned for Mimi to come toward him. “I’ll put them on.”
And it came to pass that Mimi did approach the leader of her section and turn her back on him as he transferred the balls to a small bag, intent for this very purpose, upon her back.
When the time came, another of the throng would retrieve them and into the air thrust them, as if they were raining down as snowflakes on a winters day.
So great was Mimi’s gratitude that she thanked him.
“No problem. You sure you’re okay carrying that?”
The glint in Mimi’s eyes hardened as she once again turned her face toward his.
In relenting posture, Brent met her gaze and nodded.
The time had come, and verily, Mimi would not be cowered into discarding her dream, because dream she had about the moment she would carry her sousaphone upon the field of battle and play music that would capture the hearts of the people, and lead their team to victory.
Brent uttered the words, “For the Spartans!”
Mimi joined in the flood of yells, knowing her time had come.