The Cat-Astrophe by Lexi Connor

Author:Lexi Connor [Connor, Lexi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-545-32231-7
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2011-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“I’m back,” Trina said, returning to the living room. “Let’s get started. Did you guys have a song in mind?”

“‘Yowl’!” George and B said the word together.

“What’s that?” Trina said. Then, as her gaze rested on B’s Black Cats sweatshirt, she snapped her fingers. “I know. It’s by that band everyone’s talking about, right?”

“The Black Cats!” B exclaimed. “You still haven’t heard their music?”

Trina shrugged. “Maybe once or twice.”

“I know,” George said. “For our group project, instead of doing an essay or a poster, why don’t we sing the new song we write? I’ll bet Mr. Bishop would give extra credit for that.”

“No way,” B said. “You know I don’t like performing in public.”

“I don’t sing.”

George and B both looked at Trina. “Not even in the shower?” B asked.

“At all.”

Even stage-fright B was surprised at the determination in Trina’s voice.

“Okay,” George said. “I guess we’ll scrap that idea. The first thing we need to do is write down the lyrics to the song.”

“Ready,” B said, pulling out her notebook. “The song begins, ‘Midnight in the alley, the cats are on the prowl, they see the full moon risin’ —’ ”

George cut in. “‘That’s when they YOWL, yowl, yowl, yowl….’”

“It’s really just one ‘Yowl.’ The rest are the backup singers,” B said.

“Doesn’t matter,” George replied. “It’s still repetition. That’s a poetic element.”

“Whatever,” B said, writing as fast as her hand would go. “‘That’s when they yowl, yowl, yowl, yowl, yowl…. That’s when they yowl, yowl, yowl….’ Man, this line repeats three times! They could have thought up some lyrics with more variety.”

“I thought you really liked the song,” Trina said.

“Oh, definitely,” B said. “I just don’t like transcribing it.”

George continued. “So after the third ‘yowl, yowl, yowl’ bit, they say, ‘Throw your head back and HOWL, howl, howl, howl….’ ”

“‘The cats are on the prowl. Yeah!’” B finished her notes.

They wrote out the second verse in the same way, and once again it ended with plenty of yowls.

“No shortage of rhyme here,” George said. “What about the next verse?”

“This one has a different meter. Slower,” B said. “‘Night’s — the — hour — for — keep — ing — se — crets….’”

“Is that the chorus?” George asked.

“The bridge,” Trina said quickly.

B turned toward her, surprised. “The who?”

“The bridge,” Trina said. “That’s what you call that part of the song, where the verses and the tune change to something different. It’s not the chorus; it’s the bridge.” She looked confused for a minute. “At least, I’m pretty sure I saw that once on a TV show.”

“Learn something every day,” George said. Then he burst into song. “‘But — we — Black — Cats — ain’t — got — se — crets, want — the — whole — wide — world — to — hear — us — YOWL, yowl, yowl, yowl!’”

“You were a little bit off there, George,” B said. “It’s ‘But — we — Cats — ain’t — got — no — se — crets….’ ”

George shook his head. “No, I’m positive it’s ‘we Black Cats ain’t got.

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