Music Of Home

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  “I remember, Ma.” Drusie felt girded by such encouragement. Surely God had used her mother to speak to her. It wasn’t the first time. “What do you say, Pa?”

  Pa rubbed his bearded chin. “Well, when you put it like that, I reckon I oughtta give you my blessing.”

  “Thank you, Pa!” Drusie embraced him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Fields!” Gladdie rose from his seat and took Drusie by the hand. “Come on and let’s tell Archie. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  “Hold your horses,” Pa said. “There’s somethin’ else. A condition I have for you. And if you two don’t go along with what I say, I cain’t allow Drusie to go.”

  Four

  Watching Pa as he sat still in his kitchen chair, Drusie felt as though she were a rock by the side of the creek, water rushing at her, unable to move. So Pa had a condition as to whether or not she could go to Raleigh and cut a record of the music of home. Now that it looked like Pa was about to throw a monkey wrench into her new plans, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

  What could the condition be? She tried to guess. Could he want Gladdie to marry her before she left? She suppressed a smile. Such a thought could make sense. After all, she’d never dream of taking her music to the world outside her mountain community except that Gladdie wanted to buy the store and she wanted to make enough money so that would be possible. Maybe Pa wanted to make sure Gladdie was tied to her right good before she made all that effort for him. Drusie trusted Gladdie, and if Pa said they had to get hitched before he would agree to let her go to Raleigh, Drusie wouldn’t mind that at all.

  Her heart reminded her of its existence by beating fast in her chest. She took in a breath. “What’s the condition, Pa?”

  He eyed Gladdie, then Drusie. “I want you to take Clara with you.”

  “Clara?” Drusie blurted. Her mind switched gears to cope with such an unexpected turn of events. Clara, going with them to Raleigh? To cut the record with her? Sure, Clara sang like a bird, but Drusie never thought about her sister even wanting to go.

  “Yep.” Pa nodded. “She sings real good. You two sound even better together than either one of you sounds by yourself. And havin’ a sister along means you can look out for each other—just in case you find yourself in a situation you warn’t meanin’ to.”

  Gladdie interrupted with a protest. “But Mr. Fields, I won’t let nothin’ happen to Drusie. She means too much to me.”

  “You goin’ along?”

  “Uh, no, sir,” Gladdie admitted, glancing at his feet and back to Mr. Fields. “I have to stay here and help my family.”

  “Well then,” Pa said, “to my way of thinkin’, you cain’t help Drusie much if you’re here and she’s all the way in Raleigh. Now I don’t mean no disrespect, son. I know you’d never set your mind to lettin’ somethin’ happen to her, but the outside world can be a mighty mean place where bad things can happen. Terrible bad things. She needs protection. Now you say that your cousin has women travelin’ with the band, but them women just ain’t gonna look after Drusie the way her own sister would.”

  “I understand, sir.” Gladdie’s voice registered defeat.

  “Well then, her sister needs to go, to my way of thinking, and there ain’t nothin’ you or Archie or anyone else can say to change my mind on that. So either both sisters go, or nobody goes. That’s my final word.” The way Pa looked right into Gladdie’s brown eyes without flinching told Drusie that he meant what he said.

  Anxiety clutched Drusie in her gut. What if Clara didn’t want to go? Even more likely, what if Archie didn’t want Clara to go along? Then Drusie’s chances of helping Gladdie buy the store would be ruined. Mr. Goode would sell it to someone else, and they’d never have another chance. She didn’t like debating with Pa, but this time she felt she had to kick up a fuss. She reached for an argument. “So you’re gonna send Clara along and endanger her, too?”

  “I believe in the old sayin’ that there’s safety in numbers. And Clara would look after you. And you’ll look after her.” He wagged his forefinger at her, shaking it on each word for emphasis.

  She tried again. “I know that, Pa. I’ll be so busy lookin’ after her that I won’t have time to sing.”

  When Drusie cut her glance to Gladdie, she noticed he rubbed his fingertips together. She figured he was thinking his way out of the situation, too. “Mr. Fields, I worry that if we insist, it might ruin Drusie’s chances,” Gladdie said. “Archie didn’t agree to let another person come along. Travelin’ is expensive, and she’d be another mouth to feed.”

  “And another mouth to sing, too,” Pa pointed out.

  “So do you think Clara would want to make a record?” Gladdie wondered aloud. “It’s one thing to sing at church, but it’s a horse of another color to sing on a record for the whole world.”

  “True. Why don’t we ask her and find out?” Pa didn’t wait for an answer before he hollered out Clara’s name.

  Ma stopped tending the pot of stew long enough to answer. “I sent her to fetch some water from the well. She’s been gone long enough that she oughtta be back anytime now.”

  Pa rose from his seat and peered out the back door. “She’s comin’ on up here now.”

  “Maybe I should go help her,” Gladdie said.

  “Naw,” Pa said. “She’s got to learn to handle that bucket herself.”

  Silence fell upon them as they waited for Clara to struggle with getting the water to the house in a heavy wooden bucket. Drusie never minded when it was her turn to fetch water. She enjoyed walking outdoors, down the narrow path to the well. The time alone gave her a few minutes to think and to enjoy God’s creation. Her least favorite part of the journey was carrying the burdensome bucket filled to the brim. Not splashing half the supply out onto the ground was the trick to not making a second trip to the well. After many tries, Drusie became skilled at carrying water without spilling a drop, something she took pride in. Clara never did become quite so adept, and hence she complained whenever it was her turn to do the fetching. But by walking slowly, she managed to keep most of the water in the bucket.

  Nervous, Drusie looked at the fire and contemplated stoking it while they waited.

  “Drusie,” Gladdie asked, “would you mind fixin’ me a glass of water?”

  “Sure.” She hurried to comply, grateful for the simple task. By the time she was done, Clara had entered the kitchen with fresh water.

  “Hey, Gladdie.” She set down the water and glanced from Gladdie, to Drusie, to Ma, and then to Pa. “What’s the matter? Y’all look like there’s bad news brewin’. There ain’t nothin’ wrong, is there?” She paled.

  “No, Clara. Nothin’s wrong,” Pa assured. “Sit on down.” He nodded to an empty chair.

  She obeyed. “What is it, Pa?”

  “Didn’t Drusie tell you that she and Gladdie would be seein’ his cousin Archie today? The one that run off to Raleigh and has his own recordin’ studio now?”

  “I remember Archie. Skinny and hardly old enough to think for himself when he left here. So he made good?”

  “Real good.” Gladdie’s voice was filled with pride.

  “That’s nice.” Clara’s posture relaxed. Obviously, she thought Archie’s visit had nothing to do with her.

  Pa leaned forward. “How would you like to sing with Drusie, in front of people, for pay?”

  “For pay?” Clara laughed so hard she snorted. “Who’d pay us to sing?”

  “Lots of people, accordin’ to Gladdie’s cousin Archie.”

  Clara turned serious. “What? You mean Archie wants me to sing? He has the power to make such a big decision on his own?” She gasped, her voice showing a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.

  “He sure does. He owns the studio and everything,” Pa said.

  “True, but everything ain’t exactly set,” Gladdie said. “At least, not yet. You’ve gotten to be part of the deal if Archie plans to take Drusie.”

  Clara crossed her arms like a pet
ulant child. “Care to explain?”

  Drusie elaborated on the day’s events. As she did, Clara went from lazing back in her chair, displaying the interest of a schoolchild at the end of a two-hour sermon, to leaning forward, mouth open and eyes wide.

  “That’s swell!” Clara said after Drusie concluded. “So Archie wants you to be a big-time singer, and with our humble mountain music at that.” She shook her head. “Who’d’ve thought such a thing?”

  “I know it’s mighty amazin’,” Drusie said. “So don’t ya wanna go?”

  “I don’t rightly think I do.”

  Drusie’s jaw slackened with disappointment. “But you got to, Clara! You just got to! If you don’t, me and Gladdie will never get to buy the store.”

  “I know all about your dreams, and I’d like to help, but I cain’t.” She turned up her nose ever so slightly. “If I’m second fiddle, I don’t want no part of this record business. I can stay here and be second fiddle to everybody else.”

  “I’ll be happy for you to take the lead on some of the songs, Clara.” Drusie set her hand on her sister’s knee and held her gaze to show Clara her sincerity. “I’d welcome it. I don’t need to sing so much that I don’t have a voice left.”

  “Aw, come on, Clara,” Gladdie prodded. “You and Drusie will have fun. You’ll meet lots of people and have some cash.”

  “Cash money?” Clara shifted so that Drusie’s hand fell from her knee.

  Drusie leaned against the back of her chair. With Clara’s renewed attentiveness, hope sparked.

  “How much money?” Clara wanted to know.

  Guilt marred Drusie’s happiness. Remembering biblical admonitions about the love of money, she felt reluctant to use its lure as an argument to sway her sister, but desperation drove her. “Archie said somethin’ to me about buyin’ fine things.”

  “Fine things?” Clara’s mouth hung open. “You mean, we can make that much money?”

  Drusie shrugged. “I reckon.”

  Clara’s eyes became dreamy. “I always have wanted to wear pretty clothes.”

  “Pretty clothes?” Ma objected. “Don’t you think you got pretty clothes now?”

  Clara turned her mouth into a sheepish line. “Yes, ma’am. You make me pretty dresses all the time. It’s just that I can just imagine wearin’ store-bought clothes every day.”

  “I don’t suppose you can be blamed,” Ma admitted. “You’re young, and you can enjoy the finer things in life that we never had.” She shook her head. “Imagine!”

  “Clara won’t have to imagine long, if what Archie says is true,” Gladdie observed.

  Clara rose from her seat and nodded once in a way that showed her mind was made up. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “Now money isn’t everything,” Pa cautioned. “If riches is what you want, maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to go after all.”

  “Why else would I want to go, Pa?” As soon as the question left Clara’s mouth, she twisted her lips and looked at her sister. “I know. You want me to keep Drusie out of trouble.”

  “That won’t be hard. I don’t plan on gettin’ into trouble,” Drusie assured her.

  Clara cocked her head and pointed at her sister. “You better not. If I’m ever gonna be famous, I won’t have time to look after you.”

  Pa’s laughter filled the kitchen. “Then it’s settled.”

  “Not quite yet, Mr. Fields.” Gladdie wore a worried look that Drusie didn’t like. “Like I said, my cousin Archie ain’t agreed to your plan for two singin’ sisters.”

  “I know it, Gladdie, but Clara deserves to make good in the city, just as Drusie does,” Pa persisted. “So you tell your cousin if he wants Drusie, he has to take Clara, too.”

  “I’ll tell him that, sir.” Although he kept from frowning, disappointment etched Gladdie’s voice.

  Drusie kept her face unreadable. Pa never said it aloud, but he favored Clara. True, she was open about her emotions, filling the room with optimism whenever she entered and displaying cuteness even when disagreeable. Drusie was the serious, studious one—harder for people to get to know. Sometimes she wished she was more like her little sister. But God had fashioned them both for His reasons. Drusie had learned to live with their differences long ago.

  Given their past history, she wasn’t surprised that Pa had managed to turn her opportunity into one that would benefit her sister. Still, it would be nice to have Clara along. “Gladdie’s right. Besides, Archie cain’t decide nothin’ without hearin’ Clara sing.” She motioned to her sister. “Come on. Pick up your fiddle and let’s go to Gladdie’s house. Archie’s there now. You can audition, and he can tell us what he thinks.”

  “Is that okay with you, Pa?” Clara asked.

  He nodded. “Makes sense to me.”

  Clara clapped, reminding Drusie of a little girl. “Let me put on my Sunday dress and clean up a little. It won’t take me long, I promise.” Without further ado, she exited.

  Drusie could see from her level of intensity that she’d be dressed faster than a cow could swing her tail to shoo a fly.

  Moments later, Clara emerged wearing a Sunday dress with a polka-dotted pattern that fit her form well, but not too tightly.

  “You look nice,” Ma said.

  Clara patted her shiny light brown curls. “I hope so.”

  Without pause, Gladdie, Drusie, and Clara bid Ma and Pa good-bye and were on their way around the hill and past the hollow to the Gordons’. The walk back was more of a stride, and nothing that could be called romantic. This was a business trip.

  “So,” Clara asked, “do you think Archie will like me?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Drusie assured her. “You were a pretty little girl when he left, and you’re even prettier now.” She lowered her voice, even though they were well out of earshot from the house. “I didn’t want to say this in front of Pa, but I imagine Archie will start describin’ you in terms of food as soon as he sets eyes on you.”

  Clara scrunched her eyebrows. “Food?”

  “Things like ‘dish’ and ‘tomato’ is what he likes to say. I don’t understand what he’s talkin’ about half the time, but he seems to think he’s bein’ nice. City ways—you know.”

  “I’ll try to catch on,” Clara said with a grin. “I just hope he thinks I’m pretty.”

  “You have to be more than pretty,” Gladdie said, though not in an unkind tone. “You have to sing well enough for him to decide he wants to make a record with you. Archie is a businessman, and they don’t like to lose money.”

  “I can imagine he don’t.”

  “What do you think you’ll sing?” Drusie asked.

  “I don’t rightly know.” She paused to think. “ ‘Cindy’ and ‘Mole in the Ground’ maybe.”

  “I can sing along with you on one so he can see how we do together,” Drusie suggested. “Let’s sing a hymn, too. He likes that.”

  “Okay.”

  They approached the Gordons’ house, where Archie waited on the porch. Instead of rocking in a chair, he stood with one hand on his hip, looking at the horizon.

  Clara stopped and took in a breath.

  Drusie followed suit. “What’s the matter?”

  “N–nothin’. Uh, is that Archie?”

  “Sure is,” Gladdie affirmed.

  Clara kept staring. “He’s all growed up!”

  Something in Clara’s tone and sudden change in posture made Drusie nervous. If she decided to get a crush on Archie before she even spoke to him, Pa would figure that out right quick, and their trip would be doomed. “Now he’s a big record producer, and we’re just one of his acts—we hope. So don’t go gettin’ any ideas,” Drusie hissed at her sister. “Come on.” Drusie tugged on her arm, prodding her to resume walking.

  Clara pouted but kept her voice low. “I ain’t got no ideas. You’re always thinkin’ somethin’ like that.”

  Drusie remembered how Clara liked to flirt with all the eligible bachelors but decided not to make fur
ther mention of that fact. Instead, she sent a silent prayer that the audition would go well. As long as Clara could concentrate on her singing and not too much on the brash redheaded man standing on the porch, surely everything would be just fine.

  She hoped.

  Five

  Gladdie watched his cousin Archie stare at Drusie and Clara as they approached. Jealousy sparked through him until he looked more closely and saw that Archie wasn’t studying Drusie, but Clara. He cut his glance to Drusie’s sister and noticed she couldn’t take her gaze from him, either. The idea made him uneasy. Archie was too much of a gentleman—and a businessman—to be forward with any of his singers. Still, Archie was a man who had an eye for the ladies, and Gladdie could feel tension emanating from him that hadn’t been present until the moment the women came into view.

  Lord, Thy will be done.

  Gladdie wanted to elaborate on his prayer, but no words entered his mind. Everything had happened so quickly. What had started as a visit from Archie had turned into a business deal. Gladdie freely admitted that he had wanted Drusie to impress his cousin with her singing. He thought earning compliments from someone in the music business would make Drusie happy. That was all he wanted. All he ever wanted. Even his idea to buy the store was motivated by a desire to make a better life for them both.

  As soon as Drusie showed up with her banjo, Gladdie realized from Archie’s eagerness to hear her perform that auditioning Gladdie’s fiancée was the real reason for the visit, not a family reunion. Archie was a businessman through and through, all right.

  Conflicting feelings wouldn’t leave Gladdie alone. He wanted to buy the store, and with Mr. Goode’s retirement happening ahead of schedule, Gladdie could be required to come up with the money quickly. Too quickly. Drusie’s success in the music business was the only way he could see that happening. But he didn’t want to depend on his future wife to earn the money. To him, sending her out into the cold world didn’t seem fair, no matter how much she wanted to go.