Free Falling Into Grace by Michelle Stimpson Page B

was learning about music. She spent her weekly English class library time researching lyrics on the Internet, following her favorite groups. Momma trained her in the children’s and young-adult choirs. Jerdine didn’t let her daughter lead every song. Wouldn’t be fair. But at almost every Pastor and Wife’s anniversary event or women’s fifth Sunday program, someone would request that Camille sing their favorite number, usually “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” or “The Safest Place.” Like so many other vocalists, she had been tried and tested in church first. She had learned to sing whether she felt like it or not, whether she knew all the words or not. The best singers could skip a whole line and the audience would never know.
    Over the thousands of hours she’d spent practicing, Camille became one with her voice. She could make it do exactly what she wanted it to do. Hop, dip, twist, stretch, climb, whatever.
    People at school knew she had pipes. She performed many a recess concert for her friends. Every now and then, some new student would fall under the mistaken impression they could sing better. This, of course, forced Camille to go slamp off on the poor child. She’d pull out an old song most of her classmates hadn’t heard, maybe Shirley Murdock’s “As We Lay,” and demonstrate how a real diva blew.
    She watched videos and learned the choreography and words of every week’s top-ten tracks. In short, she was obsessed with music and singing. After studying Star Search and Showtime at the Apollo , Camille convinced herself that she had what it took to make it big.
    Jerdine insisted that Camille finish high school before she started chasing her dreams. “No matter what happens, no one can take your diploma away from you.”
    Nowadays, Camille wished her mother had added a college degree to the request, because the value of her high school diploma was shrinking right along with the American dollar.
    Nonetheless, Camille had honored her deceased mother’s wishes. She completed twelfth grade before she allowed her brother to circulate the cheap demo she’d recorded of a Deborah Cox instrumental. He caught a few tugs on the line and traipsed Camille all over Dallas and Houston until she finally got a meeting with an up-and-coming producer, T-Money, who was trying to start a new record label. He needed a female group to get the ball rolling.
    â€œCami, this is the most important audition of your life,” Courtney had warned her before they got out of the car. “If you get into this group, your whole life will change forever. You understand?”
    He didn’t have to tell her that. She knew this must be crucial for him to miss work so he could take her to meet these people in Houston. Not exactly the Mecca for R&B talent, but now that Jermaine Dupri was putting Atlanta on the map, and some guys out of St. Louis, Missouri, of all places, were making a name for their town, reputable, well-connected studios were popping up all over the country.
    Though only a few years older than his sister, Courtney had a severity about him that afforded him instant respect with adults. People even called him “little man” growing up because, in some ways, he was never a child. “He’s just got an old spirit,” Bobby Junior would say.
    The day she auditioned was the day she met Alexis and Tonya for the first time, along with twelve other girls they beat out for the top slots. The fourth spot went to a girl named Ja-niah, who didn’t have the good sense to keep the fact that she was pregnant under wraps until she’d signed a contract.
    An audition that was supposed to last a day or two turned into a week as the producer called back several of the girls he’d sent home crying. Kyra was one of those girls. Realizing she’d better sing like her life depended on it, Kyra nailed the song the second time around. Camille never