The Bassoon Taller Than Dev
When Mr. Okafor held up the school bassoon, Dev laughed out loud. It was almost as tall as he was. It looked like a brown stick with silver buttons and a curly metal pipe on top.
"Somebody has to play it," said Mr. Okafor. "The band needs a low voice."
Dev picked the bassoon because every other instrument was already taken. At home he put the reed in his mouth and blew. The sound was a loud, flat honk, like a goose with a cold. His little sister covered her ears and ran out of the room.
For two weeks Dev practiced every afternoon. Every afternoon the bassoon honked. He almost gave it back.
Then one day he stopped blowing so hard. He let the air come out slowly, the way you would blow on hot soup. A deep, round note rolled across the room. It sounded warm and a little bit funny, like a friendly bear humming.
His sister poked her head back in the door. "Do that again," she said.
At the next band practice, the other kids played the tune up high. Dev played the low notes underneath. Mr. Okafor smiled and said the band finally sounded complete.