A split second before Green leaped off the podium to come after me, a white dot appeared. The dot kept getting larger. When it streaked past, not six inches from my face, I realized he had thrown his baton at me!
Strange as it seems, I pictured myself wearing a black patch over my left eye while Green, a look of despair on his face, pleaded with the school board to keep his job.
While Green moved toward me Nancy’s head reappeared from beneath her chair. Startled at the mad dog look in Green’s eyes she lost her balance and tipped to the left. Her chair shot sideways from beneath her toward the percussion section.
She succeeded at cushioning her fall but her clarinet hit the floor first. She lay on her left side, her broken clarinet inches in front of her face Marilyn’s piccolo held high in her her right hand, a triumphant look on her face.
While Green struggled to squeeze between a tympani drum and the glockenspiel I made my move toward the door. On the way I saw a snare drum embedded within an open gash on the side of the bass drum. I think when Nancy’s chair shot out from beneath her it hit the snare drum with such force that it broke through the head.
Before exiting through the band room door, I looked back at the carnage.