Music Maker’s Daughter
MUSIC MAKER’S DAUGHTER – October 7, 2024 – Trenton, New Jersey, USA
Sarah King rarely bothered to discuss school assignments with her dad. Her latest project for AP Physics was different. She waited by the door for him to finally arrive home from work.
“You know how you always say my homework’s too hard for you? I’ve got something that’s perfect.”
Rex shook sawdust from his coat before leaving it on a wall hook. His rough hands reached for the piece of paper Sarah held out. “You’re supposed to build an instrument?” he said, after scanning the page.
“We’re studying the physics of sound. Ms. Andretti is big on building stuff.”
Rex smiled. “Is she okay with me helping you?”
“She doesn’t have to know you make guitars. Maybe we could put one together that looks pretty simple.”
Rex nodded his head, already imagining the style of guitar that might work for a physics class. He spent most of his days building and installing kitchen cabinets. His guitar-making thing was more of a hobby, although he had gotten good enough to sell about a dozen custom models. He could no longer park in the garage at home because of all the partially assembled guitars hanging from wires strung from the ceiling.
“Must play at least five distinct notes,” Rex read from the project description page. He chuckled and said, “No problem.”
“And the notes have to be in tune,” Sarah added. “I’ll need your help with that.”
“Play a recognizable song,” Rex said, continuing to read from the handout. “Does that mean ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ or something harder?”
“Most people will play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’.”
“You can play some of the real songs you’ve learned. That should blow your teacher’s mind.”
“You get 80 points if everything works. You can get 20 more based on craftsmanship and performance.”
Rex chuckled confidently. “You’ll get all 100 points plus extra credit. Probably 200 points.”
Sarah giggled along with her father, her frizzy hair bouncing as her head shook. Rex had already forgotten his terrible day arguing with a contractor at a job site. He was eager to get into the garage and pick out some wood. Finally, a chance to help his daughter. She was left on her own far too often. He had no idea how to check her math problems or edit her essays. Kids with engineers or lawyers for parents had a major edge on Sarah. She worked twice as hard for good grades. The instrument building project would be her first chance to be on the plus side of an unfair advantage.
That evening, Rex barely showed interest in dinner. He cut, drilled, and sanded a piece of maple that he had rejected for one of his fancier guitars. Sarah brought him a sandwich and watched him work.
“I’m supposed to understand the physics. How do you know how it’ll sound?”
“I can’t explain any of the science. Most of the time, I’m just guessing. But my guesses get better with each one I make. I’m making this one look super basic. Just a rectangle since we don’t have time to put curves in the wood. And I’ll use maple for everything instead of mixing and matching different woods for different parts.”
“Will it still sound like a guitar?”
“Mostly, I think. The tones won’t be as rich. We’ll see.”
Rex spent every night for a week cutting or gluing something for the rectangular guitar. He clamped glued pieces together and left them overnight to make sure they stayed together. Sarah watched as the body took shape and was connected to the neck. She was barely allowed to touch it, but she knew all the parts, including the hidden braces under the soundboard.
On the night before the project was due, Rex added pegs and six strings. The wood remained unstained and unvarnished and uniform in color.
“Kind of looks like the ghost of a guitar,” Sarah said jokingly to her dad.
Rex tuned it to the standard notes and handed it to her. “Play something.”
Sarah rested the guitar awkwardly on her lap. It felt different than others she had held because of its rectangular body. She knew parts of fifteen different songs, mostly from patiently imitating her dad’s fingers on the strings. “This is supposed to be ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman.”
Rex easily recognized the tune as Sarah picked at the strings. As predicted, the crude guitar sounded tinny and harsh compared to his other models. At first the tone bothered Rex, but he began to appreciate it the more Sarah played.
“Huh. Different. I might need to experiment with that shape some more. It might be just right for certain kinds of music.”
“It’s amazing, Dad. Like a whole new invention.”
“How many points do you think we’ll get? Two hundred?”
“At least.”
“Shall I come to school tomorrow and watch you play? I’m dying to see what the rest of the class brings in.”
“It would be weird if you showed up. I promise to record everything on my phone.”
The next day, Rex thought of nothing but Sarah’s classroom performance. He left work early so that he could hear about the results. He found his daughter sitting forlornly in the kitchen with the guitar on the counter.
“Something wrong?”
Sarah sniffed. “I only got 80 points. Pretty much everyone else got 100.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Sarah shook her head.
“How’s that possible? What did the other kids make?”
“Stupid stuff.”
Sarah showed the video of students in her class playing laughably crude instruments. One girl made a pan flute from cut straws taped together. One of the boys made a harp from rubber bands and thumbtacks. They produced incoherent notes and tunes.
“Everyone’s but mine was kind of a joke, but they all got 100.”
“That’s crazy! Did the teacher say why?”
“She wouldn’t explain it.”
Rex shook his head with disgust. “I’m going in to talk to her.”
“No, just forget it. Ms. Andretti obviously hates me.”
“This isn’t fair!”
Rex stayed angry the rest of the night and into the next morning. He was convinced the teacher was punishing Sarah because the guitar worked too well. Ms. Andretti had concluded Sarah did not build it. Rex decided to confront the teacher and exaggerate his daughter’s contribution. If necessary, he was prepared to swear that she had done it all herself.
Rex had never been inside the high school before, but as soon as classes were done for the day, he sheepishly found Ms. Andretti’s room. He stood in her doorway holding the guitar as she sat at a desk staring at a stack of papers. Rex was surprised by how young she looked.
“May I help you?” Ms. Andretti asked when she raised her head in surprise.
“I’m Sarah King’s dad. She’s in your AP Physics class.”
“Oh right, Sarah. She’s a good student.”
“Yeah, she works really hard. I want to talk to you about the instrument building assignment.”
Rex held up the guitar. He was standing across the room from Ms. Andretti but she clearly flinched and maybe even blushed. Rex walked closer to her desk.
“I’m confused over why Sarah didn’t get more points for her project. I think her guitar sounds pretty good. She showed me a video of the other kids’ instruments. They were much, much worse.”
“Grading can be subjective sometimes,” Ms. Andretti said evasively. “Especially with an assignment like this. I believe Sarah got 80 points which means she met the requirements.”
“So why did the other kids get 100?”
Ms. Andretti shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Oh, I’m sure I had my reasons.”
“What are they? She must have done something majorly wrong if a bunch of straws taped together was worth more than a working guitar.”
Something like panic showed on Ms. Andretti’s face. She obviously could not find the right words to express herself.
“The only thing I can figure is that you don’t think Sarah put much time into building this.”
“No, that’s not it.”
“It’s not?” Rex asked in surprise. He was ready to claim that Sarah did most of the work and had naturally gifted hands. “If that’s not it, what could it be? Please, tell me.”
Ms. Andretti squirmed some more before saying in an embarrassed voice, “I hated her song.”
“Her song? Really? Did she play ‘Fast Car’?”
“Yes, and I hate it. My ex-boyfriend was learning the guitar and he played that song over and over. I guess I get a little irrational when I hear it.”
“That’s it?” Rex asked with a smile.
“Pretty much,” Ms. Andretti admitted.
“Well, if I was to play a song you did like on this guitar Sarah made, would you maybe consider adding some points to her grade?”
“I’d maybe consider it.”
“Do you have anything in particular you’d maybe like to hear?”
“Surprise me.”
Rex sat in a chair near her desk and rested the guitar on his knees. He thought of the unique tones made by the strings and wanted to match them to a song in his repertoire.
“This is ‘Redemption Song’ by Bob Marley. I think this guitar has kind of a reggae vibe.”
Rex plucked and strummed for four minutes with his eyes on his fingers. He was not a very good singer and so he whispered most of the song’s lyrics. Ms. Andretti stayed still and quiet until he finished. Then she softly clapped.
“That was good. Really good.”
“I like this little guitar more and more.”
“Thanks for coming in and for how much you care about your daughter. I don’t want to be too irrational the other way, but I’d say she deserves 20 more points for performance. And 20 bonus points for extra effort.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Thank you for listening.”
They smiled at each other. As Rex got up to leave, Ms. Andretti said, “You know, she’s very lucky to have a parent like you. You give her a big advantage, caring so much.”
Rex practically floated all the way home holding the guitar with both hands.
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