Читать книгу Melody Ellison 3-Book Set - Denise Lewis Patrick - Страница 14

t was finally June, and school was finally over. Melody had thought it would never end! She burst through the front door of her house on the last day and tossed her book bag into a corner.

“I’m done, I’m done!” She did a little dance right on the living room rug while Lila came in behind her.

“Don’t forget to pick that up,” Lila told her, before tromping up the stairs with her book bag thumping.

“I guess you’re glad school is out,” Yvonne said from the dining room.

Melody nodded. “Yes, but Sharon’s going to New Orleans tomorrow for the whole summer. I’m glad Val’s here already. I can’t wait to call her!”

“You don’t have to wait,” Val said as she appeared from the kitchen.

“You’re here!” Melody laughed, rushing over to give her cousin a hug. “It has been so hard to sit in school knowing that you’re done already.”

“It’s been just as hard waiting for y’all to finish!” Val said, sitting down at the dining room table. “Daddy’s started his new job, and Mama’s looking for a place for her salon, so I could use some company.”

“Yvonne, how come you’re not at the flower shop?” Melody asked.

“Poppa gave me the afternoon off to work on a special project,” Yvonne said.

Melody noticed that the table was covered with poster boards, paints, crayons, and glue. “What are you making?”

“Signs for the Walk to Freedom,” Val said proudly. “Look at the one I just painted.”

Melody read the big blue words out loud. “Freedom Forever.” There were other slogans, too. Justice for All! Fair Housing Now! Separate Is Not Equal! “Wow. This is really cool,” Melody said.

Yvonne nodded. “We’re making as many as we can. I’ll take them to the church. Someone there will pass them out on the Sunday of the march.”

Lila came back down. She had changed out of her school clothes. “Oh, can I help?” she asked.

“Me, too?” Melody asked.

“Sure,” Yvonne nodded. “But Melody, you’d better change out of your school clothes.”

Melody hurried upstairs to put on a pair of shorts. When she came back, Dwayne was stomping through the back door, singing “Summertime.” He stuck his head into the dining room.

Melody was surprised to see him. He was usually still at the factory at this time of day. She looked at the clock and then at Dwayne. When she opened her mouth to say something, Dwayne pulled his finger and thumb across his lips. This has something to do with his secret, Melody thought. She didn’t say a word.

“What’s up with all this?” Dwayne asked.

“Don’t get too close,” Yvonne warned. “You’ll mess up our posters.”

“They’re for the freedom walk,” Melody told him.

“I am not going on any freedom walk,” he said. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what?” Lila asked suspiciously.

“Like none of your business,” Dwayne answered.

“What could be more important than freedom?” Yvonne asked.

“Being lead singer of Dwayne and The Detroiters,” he said.

Yvonne looked annoyed.

Lila said, “You’d better be thinking about college, too. You know what Daddy says.”

“Plenty of people do just fine without a college degree!” he said. “Look at Tish!” He went into the kitchen.

Val stopped tracing the word “Justice” and pointed her pencil at Lila. “My mama says it’s just as important for a colored person to run a business as it is to go to college.”

Yvonne smiled. “That’s because Tish is a successful business owner.”

“Like Poppa, and the people who run the bakery,” Melody added.

“And Berry Gordy at Motown. He’s running a successful music business!” Dwayne called from the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back into the dining room holding a saucer stacked with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. “Music is a business!”

“Bet you won’t tell Daddy that,” Lila said.

Dwayne rolled his eyes in her direction, and then nodded at Melody as he stood in the middle of the floor eating. “So how’s your music coming?” he asked.

“My song?” Melody hadn’t stopped thinking about her Youth Day solo. There were so many she liked. “I haven’t picked one yet,” she confessed.

Dwayne shoved the last corner of one of the sandwiches into his mouth and pulled Melody away from the table. “You love singing, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And you want to do this solo, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Melody answered right away.

“Here’s the thing about that, Dee-Dee.” Dwayne sat on the sofa so that he and Melody were eye to eye. He looked and sounded serious when he talked about music with Melody. “The songs you sing don’t just have to be right for your voice, or for whatever audience you’re singing for, okay? Your song has to feel right. The words have to mean something special to you. When they do, amazing things happen.”

“Is that why all your songs are so good?” Melody asked.

Dwayne nodded. “I kind of think so.”

Melody wondered if this was why Diane always sounded so good, too. Did the songs she sang feel right to her? Suddenly the tunes from dozens of songs popped into Melody’s head: songs that made her happy, silly nursery rhymes that made her laugh, church songs, dancing songs, sad songs.

“Oh, I can see your music brain working hard!” Dwayne said, and Melody realized that her shoulders were moving to the music in her head. She stopped and laughed.

“See what I mean?” Dwayne smiled at her.

“Yes,” Melody said. “But how will I know which one is right?”

“You’ll know.” Dwayne patted her shoulder. “You’ll know when—”

Dwayne stopped talking when he heard their mother’s key turn in the front door.

“Dwayne! Get off the sofa!” Melody whispered. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

He jumped and ran.

“I’m home!” Mommy called out the way she always did when she came in. “And I’ve brought company!”

“Hi, Mommy!” Melody rushed to give her mother a hug. She looked curiously at the older woman who followed Mommy in. Her hair was snow white and she carried a wooden cane, but her dark face had no wrinkles at all. The woman’s sharp dark eyes twinkled as she looked back at Melody.

“This is Miss Esther Collins. She’s just joined our church, and she’s helping me on the finance committee. Miss Esther, this is my youngest, Melody. And those are my other two daughters, Yvonne and Lila, and Cousin Valerie.”

“Hello, Miss Esther!” the girls said.

“Hello there,” Miss Esther said in a high, quivery voice.

“Please sit down while I get those phone numbers for you,” Mommy said, going upstairs.

Instead of sitting, Miss Esther headed to the dining room, clicking her cane across the floor. “You young people are always busy,” she said. “What’s this you’re doing?”

“We’re making posters for the Walk to Freedom,” Melody told her.

“Oh, yes.” Miss Esther nodded. “It’s going to be quite an event. That young Dr. King is speaking.”

Yvonne looked up, impressed. “You know about it?”

Miss Esther nodded. “We’ve been fighting this fight for a long time, child. You’re never too old or too young to stand up for justice.”

Just then Mommy returned, carrying a sheet of yellow paper. At the same moment, the sound of a new Miracles hit came from the kitchen.

“What’s that record?” Miss Esther asked. “Is that one of those Motown boys?”

“It’s not a record,” Melody said. “That’s our brother, Dwayne!”

Miss Esther looked surprised. “My! He could be a professional singer.”

Melody looked proud. “He sure could.”

“After college,” Mommy said gently, handing the yellow sheet of phone numbers to Miss Esther.

Miss Esther looked thoughtful. “Nothing takes the place of a good education,” she said. “But each of us has our own path to follow.”

It almost sounded to Melody as if Miss Esther knew Dwayne’s secret.

“Let me walk you out,” Mommy said brightly.

“Good-bye, all!” Miss Esther waved. “You take care of this wonderful family, Frances,” she said.

When Mommy and Miss Esther stepped out of the house, Melody threw open the kitchen door. “Hey, Dwayne,” she said. “Guess what?”

“What?” Dwayne popped his head out.

“Somebody just thought you were a record!”

“No joke?” He chuckled and walked through the dining room with his head held high in the air. “See?” he said to Yvonne over his shoulder as he passed. “I’m not walking to freedom. I’m singing my way up.”