Читать книгу Melody Ellison 3-Book Set - Denise Lewis Patrick - Страница 15

week later, Melody and Lila were in the kitchen eating bologna and cheese sandwiches and drinking ginger ale when they heard someone at the front door.

Lila stopped chewing. “Who in the world is that in the middle of the day?”

Melody put her cup down. “Maybe Yvonne came home early.”

Before Lila could call out, the first notes of one of Dwayne’s tunes came from their living room. Three male voices harmonized to the music.

“It’s Dwayne and his group!” Lila whispered.

“Where’s the music coming from? We don’t have a piano,” Melody whispered back.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Obviously they got a tape recorder from somewhere!” She got up and motioned for Melody to follow. The two stood at the kitchen door, listening.

The song was so lively that Melody started dancing to the beat. Then she bumped the butter knife that Lila had left on the counter, and it clattered to the floor. The music stopped.

“Oops!” Lila snickered.

In a second, Dwayne swung the kitchen door open. “Are you two snooping?”

“Sort of,” Melody said.

Instead of getting upset, Dwayne shrugged. “So why don’t you come on in? Be our audience.”

Lila headed for the living room, but Melody held back and grabbed her brother’s arm. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” she asked. Melody was still keeping Dwayne’s secret about the Motown audition. Now it seemed as if Dwayne was keeping a secret from her.

“I’ll tell you later,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Melody followed him to the living room and plopped onto the couch beside Lila, who was talking to Artie and Phil. Dwayne, Artie, and Phil had been friends forever. Melody’s earliest memories were of the boys showing her how to beat the bottom of a saucepan with a wooden spoon like a drum, to keep up with their doo-wop beat. Big Momma had taught Dwayne piano, and he started making up his own music. For the last year, the three boys had been singing all over the city.

Dwayne seemed nervous as he huddled with the other guys. When he turned around he said, “Okay. This is a song I wrote for us. Check out our sound.”

Artie, Phil, and Dwayne lined up with their backs to the sofa. Melody scooted forward, anxious for them to begin.

Dwayne started the tape recorder. They all spun around. “Never thought I’d see the day that you made me feel this way,” they sang together. “Everything was sun, now everything is rain.”

Dwayne stepped forward. “Never, ever dreamed you’d cause me this much pain.”

Melody smiled with pride. Big Momma said Dwayne’s voice was a high tenor, like Smokey Robinson’s. Melody thought Dwayne’s singing was somehow even smokier.

At the last words, they all turned their backs to Melody and Lila again. The girls clapped and hooted and stomped their feet.

“Aw, come on!” Dwayne said happily, looking over his shoulder.

“We want a real critique,” Phil said, smiling at Lila. Lila grinned back.

Melody noticed and leaned into her sister. “I thought you didn’t like Phil,” she whispered.

“He’s turned kind of cute,” Lila whispered back, adjusting her eyeglasses.

Melody shook her head. “What’s the name of your group?” she asked the guys. “You need a catchy name.”

“She’s right,” Lila said. “You’re not still going by the name of ‘Dwayne and The Detroiters,’ are you?”

Dwayne looked sheepish. Artie pointed at Melody.

“Lil sis, you have a better idea?”

“Sure!” Melody thought for a moment. “How about The Three Ravens?” she suggested. “You could wear the same outfits, like The Temptations! Maybe black suits with matching purple shirts and ties—right, Lila?” Melody hopped up from her seat. “And those moves aren’t cool enough. What if you spin one at a time—kind of bend and swirl around, like this?” Melody demonstrated. “When Dwayne is singing, you guys can’t stand still,” she said. “The Motown guys really dance.”

Phil and Artie were already nodding, trying some different steps.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Melody nodded. “What do you think, Dwayne?”

“I’m thinking I can’t believe how good you are at this, Dee-Dee,” Dwayne said. “I’m going to get us some Kool-Aid,” he said to the other two Ravens. Then he motioned for Melody to follow him to the kitchen.

Dwayne took down the pitcher, and Melody got out two packets of the strawberry powder and a wooden spoon.

“Here’s the thing,” Dwayne said. “Dad thinks I’m still working day shifts, but I quit my job at the factory.”

“So that’s why you’re always coming and going!”

Dwayne nodded. “I got a part-time gig as a janitor down at Cobo Hall,” he said. “Now I have more time to write music and rehearse with the guys.”

Melody frowned. “Daddy’s going to be really mad! You promised him you’d work at that factory until college started.”

Dwayne shook his head. “I’m not cut out for factory work, Dee-Dee. I got something good with Phil and Artie, and we have a chance to make it great.” He turned on the water to fill the pitcher.

Melody looked down at the swirling red liquid. Dwayne seemed so sure that he was right! Just like Yvonne always did. Melody wished she had their kind of courage.

“Listen,” he said, turning back to her. “It’s not gonna be easy—I’m not fooling myself. But we can sell records, lots of them. And I believe that when people hear our sound, they won’t care what color our skin is.”

Melody hadn’t known that was how Dwayne felt. “Maybe if you explain that to Daddy, he’ll understand. I could tell him—”

“No!” Dwayne said quickly. “Promise you won’t say anything to Dad. We’re gonna knock ’em out at our audition. I just know it. Then I’ll tell Mom and Dad.”

Melody stirred the Kool-Aid slowly. “I’m not going to tell a lie, you know.”

“I know,” Dwayne said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “And I would never ask you to do that. Just don’t volunteer any information, okay?”

“I guess.”

“There’s one more thing,” he said.

“What?” Melody set the spoon on the counter, and noticed that it was the same kind Dwayne had given her to drum on a pan a very long time ago.

“I need a new suit for the audition. Would you go shopping with me, since you seem to know just what I should be wearing?”

Melody couldn’t help but smile. “All right,” she said. “All right to everything, especially you telling Daddy soon. But—”

“But what?”

“Once I pick a song for Youth Day, you help me, too.”

“You got it! Whatever you need.” Dwayne picked up the spoon to continue stirring.

On Saturday morning, Dwayne and Melody ate Cheerios together and then got ready to go shopping. Big Momma always said, “Look like you have money in your pocket when you go into a store,” so Dwayne brushed his hair and put on a shirt with a collar. Melody wore a school skirt and borrowed Lila’s shoulder purse. She took two of the crisp one-dollar bills that she had gotten when she closed her account at the bank and tucked them into the purse. Melody told Dwayne she had decided to buy herself something special to wear for her solo at Youth Day. She was excited that they both had something to shop for.

Dwayne whistled a tune but didn’t say much as they walked. A few blocks from home, they turned onto 12th Street, which was lined with shoe shops, dress stores, delicatessens, ice cream parlors, and all sorts of other businesses. On a Saturday morning, the sidewalk was crowded with shoppers. At one of the corners, Melody headed for the bus stop, but Dwayne kept walking.

“Hey!” Melody called out, dodging a lady with two little kids. “Where are we going?”

“Fieldston’s,” Dwayne said over his shoulder.

“I thought we were going downtown, to Hudson’s department store,” Melody said.

Dwayne made a face at her, and for a minute he looked more like a boy and not an almost grown-up man. “I don’t have Hudson’s money, Dee-Dee.”

“Oh,” Melody said. “I forgot. You’re only working part-time.” Then she added, “We’ll make it work!”

Fieldston’s Clothing was one of the older stores on 12th Street. Poppa had often told them how he had bought his first city suit there when he moved up from Alabama. When he opened his flower shop several years later, there were only a few businesses owned by black people in the neighborhood. Even though Mr. Fieldston was white, he’d given Poppa lots of good advice. Now Mr. Fieldston was long gone, and someone else ran the store.

A bell chimed as Dwayne held the door open for Melody. There were three clerks chatting at the front counter, but none of them said, “May I help you?” or even “Hello.” They were all wearing blue jackets, and they were all white. As she and Dwayne began to look around, Melody noticed several other shoppers, but she and her brother were the only black customers.

“The men’s suits are over here,” Dwayne said, nodding to the left. “But you’ll want to see what’s over there,” he said, motioning to the right.

Melody saw a display of women’s jewelry, and she smiled. “I’ll just look for a few minutes,” she told Dwayne. “Then I’ll come and help you.”

Melody hurried through the aisles crowded with clothing racks and display cases, her shoulder purse swinging. She stopped to admire some silky scarves. Melody wrapped one around her neck, turning to find a mirror so that she could see how she looked. She almost bumped into one of the clerks from the front of the store. “Excuse me,” Melody said to the woman politely. The woman didn’t say anything, but she watched as Melody took the scarf off and put it neatly back where she’d found it.

Melody wandered over to a glass case filled with necklaces. As she leaned closer, she saw the reflection of a man standing behind her. Thinking that he was looking too, she moved out of his way and on to a rack of barrettes. Maybe I should get these instead of a headband, she thought. She was about to take a pair from the rack when she changed her mind. She turned and saw the same man from the jewelry display. He looked at her suspiciously. Suddenly, Melody felt uncomfortable. She hurried over to Dwayne, no longer excited about shopping for herself.

Dwayne was holding up two black jackets. “How about one of these?” he asked.

“Oh! That’s the one you need,” Melody said, pointing to the one with the shiny gold buttons.

A young man came around the aisle carrying an armful of boxes. Dwayne held up the jacket with the shiny buttons. “Excuse me, what’s the price on this?”

The man with the boxes gave Dwayne an annoyed look and brushed roughly past without answering. Dwayne shrugged and slipped the jacket on. Melody nodded her approval. It seemed to fit perfectly. Dwayne looked at the edge of the sleeve for a price tag, and then held his arm up high. “Can I get a price on this, please?”

“You can’t afford it,” a man said.

Melody turned to see the same man who’d stood behind her at the necklaces and the barrettes. Had he followed her?

“Take it off,” the man said coldly.

“I have money,” Dwayne said, frowning.

Melody looked toward the front counter. Mommy always said to ask nicely for a manager if you had trouble in a store.

The man shook his head, and Melody noticed that he was wearing the same blue jacket as all the other clerks. She suddenly suspected that he hadn’t been standing behind her by mistake.

“I can guess what your kind really came in here for,” he hissed.

“What do you mean?” Melody asked. “What’s he talking about?” she whispered to Dwayne. Then she saw a look cross Dwayne’s face—a look she’d never seen before. It was like anger and fear and something else all mixed together. Dwayne slowly took off the jacket and carefully hung it back on the rack, shaking his head.

“Wait,” Melody said, tugging at her brother’s arm. “You need a suit.”

“Not at this price,” Dwayne said quietly.

“I’ve had enough of your type,” the clerk said. “Get out. And take your little shoplifting companion with you.” His eyes flashed right at Melody.

“Shoplifting?” Melody’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not true,” she protested. “We didn’t steal anything,” she said louder, her heart pounding. “We’re just shopping like everybody else!”

“Dee-Dee, no.” Dwayne didn’t raise his voice. “Let’s just go.”

“You’d better go. Get out, before I call the cops!” the man shouted.

Melody realized with a sinking feeling that the man who was shouting was the manager. Dwayne was pulling her toward the door. She didn’t want to stay, but she couldn’t move. How could that man have accused her of doing something so horrible? As they left the store, Melody knew that Mommy had been wrong. That manager would never have helped them. He was the trouble.

Outside, Dwayne wouldn’t look at Melody. He started walking so quickly that Melody had to almost run to keep up with him. She brushed away tears. Her insides were shaky, as if she’d just escaped something dangerous. Melody wanted to ask her brother if he was as upset as she was, and what he would do about his audition suit. “Dwayne?”

He spun around so quickly that she had to step back. His face was like a mask, as if he didn’t feel anything at all.

“Should we go tell Poppa?” Melody asked.

Dwayne shook his head. “That won’t help. Besides, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me, and it won’t be the last time.”

Melody stood very still. Would that happen to her again? Would she be accused of shoplifting when she was just shopping? Then Melody felt a prickle of fear for her brother. What if the store clerk had called the police? Who would the police have believed, Dwayne or the clerk?

Melody took a deep breath. “Yvonne says we have to change things. That’s why we have to march! That’s why we’re walking with Dr. King next Sunday.”

Dwayne put his hand on Melody’s shoulder. “I don’t think a march is going to change things for me. Don’t you see now? I have to use my talent to become a famous singer if I want things to be different.”

Would people really treat Dwayne fairly if he was famous? Melody wondered. “I understand that you want to be famous,” she said. “And I believe in you, Dwayne…”

“But?”

“But what about everyone else? Shouldn’t we try to change things for people who aren’t ever going to be famous? People who are just ordinary, like me?”

Dwayne cracked a half-smile. “Now you sound like Yvonne. The answer is yeah, everybody has to work to make things different. But we don’t have to do it the same way. Everybody’s got the power for change inside themselves. Music is mine.”

Melody was shaken by what had happened in the store. But the idea that everybody had some great power inside made her feel more hopeful than she had just a few minutes ago.

“By the way, Dee-Dee,” Dwayne said quietly, “you are not ordinary.”

“I’m not?”

“Nothing close. I can’t wait to see how you’re gonna change the world, girl.”