"T" is for "Talent"

Welcome to my continuation of the A-Z Challenge!

My theme revolves around the soon-to-be published memoir, REVIVAL, which I wrote for former professional opera singer, Donald Braswell.

Yesterday, Donald auditioned for Jason, a producer with America's Got Talent. Unfortunately, Donald was told he hadn't made the cut to join others for the televised auditions...

"T" is for "Talent"

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…As Jason looks toward one of the assistants to escort me out, I recover from a stunned silence.

“Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity. I hope you guys have a great season.”

I walk toward the door and notice the female panelist leans over to talk with Jason. She’s showing him something, probably on her computer screen, but in my foggy, new universe, all I know is that I’ve just crash-landed on Planet Disbelief.

The AGT number, stuck to my coat seemingly weeks before, is removed like an old Band-Aid, and after some final paperwork, I join a steady stream of exiled entertainers.

Thoughts bounce around my head like the steel balls in an old pinball machine. I’m disappointed, a little devastated, but now that it’s sinking in, I’m also strangely hopeful. Amid thousands and thousands of talented people, I’d made it this far.

Bit by bit, the realization hits me, I’ve achieved something monumental. For the first time since my accident, I’d held the attention, brief as it was, of several major industry professionals.

Walking to the parking garage, I stop for a moment and take a deep breath. No matter the result, I’m happy. Though I wanted to go further, I thank the Lord that I have my health and my family.

It’s a bittersweet feeling that sits in the pit of my stomach, but I’m not feeling too bad because I have closure. I tried, and failed, but at least I tried.

Entering the parking garage, I head up the grimy stairs and toward the trusty SUV that will carry me home from this one, last musical voyage.

Then I stop. I have no clue where I parked. Holding my hand up in the air, I press the LOCK button so many times it looks like I’m attempting remote key CPR.

I do the lost car walk of shame until the SUV honks from behind and below me. I’ve only unlocked the door when my cell buzzes. Not recognizing the number, I flip the phone open and answer with a cautious hello, sprinkled with a little frustration now that I’m anxious to get home.

“Donald Braswell?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Jason from America’s Got Talent.”

“Jason? Jason? Hey. How are you doing?” I said as my thoughts scramble into action like a WWII fighter crew.

“Good, thanks. Hey, Donald, I’ve changed my mind. Would you come back and redo the paperwork? We’d like to give you the chance to audition on the television show.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“There’s no guarantee, but you have a remarkable talent and an inspirational story, with all that has happened. So if you’re cool with…”

I’m cool, I’m cool.

“…for you to fill out the paperwork. We’ll fly you here in two days for the filming of the television segment.”

“Thank you, Jason, thanks so much for this amazing and unexpected opportunity,” I said, my keys, important only moments ago, forgotten on the leather seat in front of me. “And, thanks also for the offer of the flight, but it’s easier for me to drive.”

I thank Jason one more time and end the call. I stare at the phone like it’s a genie’s bottle, and I’ve been granted the first wish. I shake my head, offer up a prayer of thanks and leaning against the headrest, door still open, I let out a long sigh of relief.

 

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Tomorrow: "U" is for "Unexpected"