How Sweet the Sound

by Vanessa Miller

  Shar closed her eyes as a tear drifted down her face. At home, sheltered by her parents, she’d never known just how much evil was in the world. It was starting to get to her, causing her to feel so much hate in her heart that she might just burst open with all the evil thoughts roaming through her mind. She didn’t know how she could go before another church and sing praise songs when she had so much hate in her heart. But the saddest thing about it was that she didn’t even know if she still wanted to sing praises to God. How could she, when He was allowing people to treat them in such an ill manner?

  15

  What’s got you looking so sad,” Mahalia asked as she sat down next to Shar in the fellowship hall of the church where they were about to sing.

  With slumped shoulders and her hand under her chin, Shar said, “I’m just not feeling well today.”

  “Did Nicoli do something to you?”

  Shar saw the look of anger on Mahalia’s face. She so appreciated that Mahalia was protective of her, just like her mother would have been. But Shar lifted a hand and shook her head. “Nicoli didn’t do nothing to me, Mahalia. I’m just not feeling so good about being on the road and all.”

  Mahalia put an arm around her. “I know that you’re still shaken by what happened on that bus. But you can’t let ignorant people like that get to you. We’ve got to press on.”

  With her head lowered, Shar admitted, “I don’t know how to do that.”

  Plopping down in the seat next to Shar, Mahalia put her hand beneath Shar’s chin and looked her in the eye. “Girl, colored folks been figuring out how to do this or that since time began. We’re not a people who just give up and lay down so somebody can walk all over us.”

  Shar turned away from Mahalia. She didn’t have the strength to lay her burdens down and keep on moving forward. She needed time to figure out who she was and if what she was doing even mattered in the whole grand scheme of things. “You don’t believe me? Well, all I can tell you is I’m still out here striving even after having to become a beautician to make ends meet when my first few records didn’t sell worth nothing.” Mahalia stood up. “I’m back out here, riding from town to town, singing in tents and churches.”

  “But what I don’t understand is why you keep striving. What good is all this praise-singing when there is still so much injustice in the world?”

  “God gave us these voices for a reason, Shar Gracey. When I sing I bring hope to people who have little hope. Your voice does the same thing. But if you don’t know that yet, maybe you need to take a little time off and seek God about the call that is on your life.”

  Shar shook her head. “I can’t take time off. I need the money.”

  Putting her hands on her ample hips, Mahalia sternly said, “Then buck up and get ready to go out there and sing your heart out for this tent revival.” Mahalia turned and started walking toward the tent where the choir would be singing that night.

  Shar got up and began following behind Mahalia with her head hanging low like a disobedient child being forced to do something she didn’t want to do. As she moved closer to the tent, she kept wondering if she could really sing about hope when she didn’t feel much hope. She stopped.

  Mahalia turned around. “What’s wrong now?”

  Shar pointed toward the tent and looked as if she was about to upchuck her supper. “I can’t go in there . . . not tonight.”

  “Then go on back to the farm and hide away in that barn.” Mahalia waved her hand in the air, shooing Shar away.

  At that rebuke, Shar wanted to change her mind, show Mahalia that she wasn’t made of mush but sterner stuff. She remembered the little girl she used to be, who belted

  out “Amazing Grace” for the first time at the age of six . . . remembered how everyone at church stood and applauded . . . remembered how her heart leaped at the opportunity to sing God’s praises. Her heart wasn’t singing tonight, because she just didn’t know what good her voice would do for all the people around her who had so little but needed so much.

  With tears falling down her face, Shar took Mahalia’s advice and began the long walk back to the McGinn’s farm. The road was rocky, and Shar’s left shoe had a hole in the bottom of it, so she had to stop every so often and shake the pebbles out of her shoe. About the fifth time she stopped to shake the pebbles out, she glanced down an alley and caught a glimpse of Nicoli hunched over and throwing something on the ground while four other men formed a circle around him. Shar put her shoe back on and made her way down the alley in a huff.

  Shar couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Nicoli, Nicoli,” she screamed as her hands went to her hips. “What in the cotton-picking world do you think you’re doing?”

  Nicoli was bent down on the ground, snapping up the dice he’d just thrown when Shar started screaming his name. He threw the dice back down and stood up.

  One of the other guys snapped his finger and said, “Seven.”

  Nicoli smiled as he made his way toward Shar. He grabbed her by the arm and walked her back out of the alley. “What are you doing following me here?”

  “I didn’t follow you. I saw you as I was shaking the pebbles out of my shoe.”

  “Why aren’t you down at the tent revival, getting ready to sing?”

  Shar snatched her arm out of Nicoli’s grip. “Don’t you talk to me like I’m some child that you can tell where to stand and where to go. I want to know why you are in this alley shooting craps with these men.” Shar’s nostrils were flaring by the time she finished.

  “Hey, Eddie, I’ll get with y’all later.”

  Holding the dice in his hands, Eddie stood up with a puzzled look on his face. “But you’re winning.”

  Nicoli waved that comment off and turned back to Shar. “Do you want me to walk you back to the tent revival?”

  “No. I want you to tell me why you’re shooting craps.”

  Rolling his eyes, Nicoli said, “Don’t start with me, Shar. We need money, and I’m going to get it for us the best way I can.”

  She pointed toward the alley. “We don’t need money that bad. My mama says that a gambler is worse than a thief. Because a thief mostly robs people he don’t know, but a gambler robs his own family with the money he throws away.”

  “That’s just foolish talk.” He put an arm around her shoulder as he started walking her back toward the tent revival. “I’m trying to make money to help build your singing career. I’m not taking from my family like some thief.”

  “My mama says—”

  “Girl, will you stop telling me all the things your mama has filled your head with since the day you were born? You’re a grown woman now, Shar. And we have to figure things out on our own.”

  Shar pulled away from him and put her hands on her hips. “Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me, Nicoli. My daddy would skin me alive if I married some gambling man.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Shar. Just let me walk you back to the revival. We can talk about this on the way.”

  Shaking her head, she told him, “I’m not going back to the revival. I’m going to the McGinn’s farm.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be singing tonight?”

  “I don’t feel good, and I don’t want to talk about it. Just walk me back to the farm, okay?”

  He put his hand in Shar’s. Their hands swung as they walked toward the farm, but Nicoli didn’t say anything for the first five minutes of their walk. When he finally did open his mouth again, he said, “If you’re tired of singing in that choir, I got a lead on a nightclub that would pay you good money to sing.”

  Shar pulled her hand out of Nicoli’s grip, stopped dead in her tracks and started shaking her head. “Nicoli James, I know you are not suggesting that I take my God-given gift of singing and parade it before a bunch of drunks and whoremongers?”

  “Now just wait a minute and hear me out before you reject my idea outright.” Nicoli took a deep breath and then trudged on, “You don’t want me gambling. Okay.” He threw his
hand in the air. “I won’t gamble anymore, but we gotta be realistic. Thomas Dorsey ain’t paying us no kind of decent wage, so we gotta find another way to make our money.”

  Frustrated, Shar stomped her foot and then grabbed hold of Nicoli’s arm. “This is crazy talk. I could never be like Rosetta Tharpe. Haven’t you noticed how some of the church members treat her when she travels with us?”

  With a lifted brow and a look of confusion on his face, Nicoli said, “Everybody loves Rosetta. What are you talking about?”

  “I hear what they say about her. They think she sings devil music. And I’m not going to do that, Nicoli. I just won’t.” She let out a loud, frustrated scream as she took off running toward the farmhouse.

  “I can’t believe it,” Nettie said to Landon as Mr. and Mrs. Thompson walked out of his office. “You have really been working hard on this and now we have our sixth family.”

  Despite trying to appear unmoved by the situation, a smile lined his face. “I’m thankful that God is answering my prayers, but I still need to find a way to get the down payments that will be needed to purchase these homes. So far only one out of the six families has been able to save any money, and they only have five hundred dollars.”

  “That’s like a million dollars to most of the people around here,” Nettie reminded him as she sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

  Landon nodded. “It’s a mountain all right. But my God gives us the strength to climb mountains.”

  “I’m just so thankful for you, Pastor Landon. When you came to pastor this church, you told us that you were here to help make our lives better, and you haven’t given up on that promise.” Nettie’s voice caught as emotion overtook her and a tear drifted down her pretty brown face. “I-I just wanted you to know that I’m proud to be working for a man as humble and kind as you.”

  “Hey, what are the tears for?”

  Lowering her head as more tears flowed, Nettie wrapped her arms around her stomach and cried as if she was standing in a doctor’s office and had just been told that her father only had a few months of life left in him.

  Landon had counseled many crying women, but never one he worked so closely with. He stood, rushed around his desk, and lowered his knee to the ground as he bent in front of Nettie. “What’s wrong? Please tell me what’s got you so upset.”

  Nettie put her hands over her eyes trying to stop the steady flow of tears. She wiped her face and then stood up. She wiped her hands on her dress then backed away from Landon. “I’m sorry, I feel like such a fool.”

  He stepped toward her. “But why? Did I say something to upset you?” Landon was truly confused. One minute Nettie was congratulating him for getting closer to his goal, and the next she was crying as if she was at a funeral.

  She wiped a few errant tears from her face and then looked up at Landon. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  Landon didn’t know what to do. Nettie was breaking down right before his eyes. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but he wasn’t sure of his place. He was Nettie’s pastor, but sometimes when she looked at him, he saw a longing in her eyes . . . like he was seeing now.

  “I can’t keep working for you, Pastor. I hate to leave while we’re making such progress, but I don’t see any way around it.”

  “But I don’t understand. If I haven’t done anything to you, then why do you want to leave?”

  Nettie closed her eyes and turned away from Landon. She gripped the edge of his desk as she seemed to strengthen herself for what she needed to say. She took a deep breath and then, with her head held high, turned back to him and said, “I’m in love with you, Landon.”

  Struck dumb by her declaration, Landon didn’t know what to say. His heart was still so damaged by Shar’s betrayal that he didn’t know if he was ready to trust another woman with his heart so soon.

  “You don’t have to say anything. I know that you’re still stuck on Shar Gracey.” She moved toward the door and put her hand on the knob.

  Landon reached out to her. “Wait, don’t leave.” He’d come to depend on Nettie. She was in this struggle for good, affordable housing for colored people with him. Having a woman by his side who shared his dreams and vision counted for something, didn’t it? No, he didn’t get the same feeling of fireworks and butterflies as he did when Shar was near him, but he couldn’t discount what he and Nettie shared. “I don’t want you to quit your job. You’re right about my feelings for Shar, but she is engaged to someone else, and I need to move on with my life.”

  Nettie took her hand off the doorknob and turned back around to face Landon. “I-I didn’t mean to be so forward with you, Pastor Landon. I’m not trying to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I just wanted you to know.” She put her hand over her heart and with a shaky voice declared, “I can’t bear to work with you, feeling the way I do about you and knowing that your heart will always be with Shar.”

  Landon walked over to Nettie. He took her hand in his and gazed into her tear-soaked eyes. He saw love for him in those eyes. He couldn’t honestly say that he loved Nettie, and he didn’t want to hurt her. But he liked what he was seeing so he asked, “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  16

  Mahalia tried to warn her about Nicoli and now Shar was beginning to wish she’d had the good sense to listen up. After Shar caught him gambling in the alley, Nicoli had turned into somebody she didn’t recognize.

  Mahalia left the tour and went back to Chicago. Then the choir left Tennessee and headed to St. Louis. That’s when things went from bad to worse. Nicoli got caught drinking and Mr. Dorsey fired him. That same night, it seemed as if Mr. Dorsey’s mind was someplace else. People said he got like that from time to time, ever since losing his wife and child some years back. The tragedy had taken a toll on his heart and mind. But Sallie assured them that things would be put back to right in no time at all.

  Shar understood, but she still felt as if she had been abandoned in a city she knew nothing about. On top of that Shar’s daddy had just sent her a letter about her mama’s worsening condition. She was now in the hospital. He thanked Shar for the money she’d been sending home and told her that without that money, he doubted that he would have been able to convince Marlene to go to the hospital. But with Mr. Dorsey still laid up with an aching heart, they just weren’t bringing in much money from his sheet music. She had no idea how she would be able to keep sending money home.

  Shar was an emotional wreck as she sat in the parlor of the boardinghouse they were staying at while singing at the St. Hope Church of Christ’s revival. Every time she saw the name of the church they were singing at, Shar felt as if God was mocking her. As if she was lying to herself and everybody else in that church house when she stood up to sing about things she knew so little about.

  “What are you so down in the mouth about now, gal?” Sallie Martin asked as she and Rosetta Tharpe came into the room and sat down on the sofa in front of her.

  “Things just don’t feel right with Mr. Dorsey out of commission.” Instead of talking about her own problems, Shar decided to deal with the other thing that had been on her mind all week. “I feel so bad for him. One man shouldn’t have to carry so much sorrow.”

  “You sho’ right about that. Thank God I have never been tested like that. Just don’t know if I could pass such a test,” Rosetta said.

  “We all have our own cross to bear . . . some, more than others,” Sallie said sorrowfully.

  Sallie was right, and Shar was beginning to see Nicoli as her cross more and more each day. He continued to try to shape her singing career the way he wanted it to be. And Shar just didn’t know how she would ever be able to please Nicoli and God at the same time. When Shar was a child, her father filled her head with dreams of doing big things with her singing, but so far all Shar saw was despair and hopelessness all around her. “It just never seems to get better,” were the words that fell out of Shar’s mouth before a lone tear drifted down her face.


  “It is a crying shame indeed,” Sallie agreed, thinking Shar was still talking about Dorsey’s predicament. She slapped her knee and then stood up. “But we don’t have time to sit around moping about it. Mr. Dorsey wants us down at that church singing and selling his sheet music. So, let’s go.”

  “As they say, the show must go on.” Rosetta stood, joining Sallie.

  Shar had returned to the group two nights after she’d caught Nicoli gambling. She’d gone back to the place they had been staying in Tennessee and pulled out the Bible that Landon gave her. She’d turned in the Bible to Jeremiah 29:11 and read, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

  Shar wasn’t sure what her end would be like, but somehow the thought that God already knew brought comfort to her. She’d rested her mind and just kept on singing God’s praises. She stood with Sallie and Rosetta and headed down the street to hear the word of God and praise His name in song.

  The revival was electrifying that night. Minister Johnson brought the house down with his message of overcoming and becoming a people who could walk down the street with heads held high because we are somebody. After hearing that soul stirring message, when it was time for the choir to sing, Shar got up and sang “Amazing Grace” like she had never sang it before.

  Everybody was on a spiritual high as they walked back to the boardinghouse. Shar felt like shouting right on the front steps of the boardinghouse. As a matter of fact, as her choir went inside, Shar stayed behind to just stare up at the stars and wonder at how amazing God was. That he could move her from despair to joy in a matter of days was beyond her comprehension.