Читать книгу Melody Ellison 3-Book Set - Denise Lewis Patrick - Страница 17

elody couldn’t get the tune of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” out of her mind. She’d carried around the songbook Big Momma had given her all week. She’d memorized all three verses, and on the afternoon of the freedom walk, she was thinking hard about the words.

“Yvonne,” Melody asked, “what does it mean to ring with the harmonies of liberty?” She could see her sister’s face in the mirror over the dresser. Yvonne finished smoothing Melody’s hair before she answered.

“Harmony is everybody joining together.”

“You mean, playing nicely, like Mommy used to tell us?”

“Right. And liberty—”

“Means free. I know. Like the Pledge of Allegiance.”

“That’s a really important song you’re learning, Dee-Dee,” Yvonne told her, adjusting Melody’s headband.

“Why?”

“Well…” Yvonne wrinkled her face in thought. “It’s about the future, really. I mean, most black Americans are relatives of people who were brought to this country in chains. Slavery went on for two hundred and fifty years. And even though last January was the one hundreth anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation that outlawed slavery, black people today are still being oppressed.”

Melody spun around from her chair. “Oppressed?”

“It means held back. You know, not allowed to shop where they want or get the jobs they want or live where they want. Not allowed to really be free.”

Yvonne put Melody’s brush down on the dresser and picked up the big, fork-like comb that she used for her Afro. “So, see?” she continued. “This song encourages us to remember how strong we were in the past, but also pushes us to keep being strong now, to keep fighting every day until—”

“—until earth and heaven ring.” Melody said. She was beginning to understand. “And that means never giving up until everything is fair, doesn’t it?”

Yvonne patted Melody on her shoulders and said, “Liberty and justice is for all, little sis. That’s why kids in the South march, that’s why I help folks register to vote, and that’s why we’re walking in Detroit today.”

Melody thought back to how the man at Fieldston’s had treated her and Dwayne so unfairly. Melody wanted the Walk to Freedom to keep things like that from happening in the future.

“Melody,” Daddy called up the stairs. “It’s time to go.”

“What about you?” Melody asked Yvonne.

“I’m riding with friends,” Yvonne explained. “I’ll be walking with some other college students. You’d better hurry down.”

Daddy drove Melody, Lila, and Mommy in the station wagon to pick up Poppa and Big Momma. As Melody watched her grandparents hurrying to the car, she realized that they were both frowning.

“What happened?” Mommy asked Big Momma when they had settled into the station wagon.

“Tish and Charles drove all the way out to that open house today—”

Melody chimed in from the fold-down seat. “The pointy-hat house, Big Momma? The brick one?”

“Yes. They got there, and the real estate agent told them the open house was cancelled.”

Poppa made a “harrumph” sound.

“Where was the house located, exactly?” Mommy asked. When Big Momma told her, Mommy shook her head. Melody could see a flash of anger in Daddy’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

Melody was confused. “What happened?” she asked.

“That neighborhood has been in the news lately,” Poppa said. “Several home owners have done the same thing. I’ll bet somebody doesn’t want colored—black—neighbors. So if a black couple shows up, the agent cancels the appointment, or the owner decides not to sell to them.”

“That’s wrong!” Lila said.

“It is wrong,” Poppa told her, “but it’s not illegal. It should be against the law to keep colored folks from buying any home they can afford.”

Melody thought about the woman she and Val had seen in the windows of the house next to the pointy-hat house. Could that woman, who had been white, have told the real estate agent to keep Val’s family away? “Charles and Tish should come to the march,” Melody said. “To protest.”

“They never planned to walk,” Poppa reminded them.

“That’s a shame,” Mommy said, “because one of the reasons for this walk is to call for fair housing laws.”

Everyone was quiet. Melody stared out the window thinking about how disappointed Val and Tish and Charles must be. They had all been so excited about that house. Melody felt a little like a balloon whose air was leaking out.

As they drove along Woodward, Melody saw hundreds of people heading downtown on foot.

“This is like going to the Hudson’s Thanksgiving Day parade,” Lila said. “Look at the crowds!”

Melody perked up. She saw some people carrying flags and others waving signs that looked just like the ones she and Lila had helped make.

“This traffic is something awful,” Poppa said. “Will, maybe we’d better park the car and start walking already.” Daddy didn’t argue. He pulled over at the next empty spot near a curb.

“I see a group from New Bethel Baptist Church,” Mommy said. “Reverend C. L. Franklin is pastor there. He helped organize the walk and bring Dr. King to speak.” She stopped to tie a scarf over her hair and put on sunglasses.

“I hear a band,” Lila said.

Melody strained to hear, but the music was too far away for her to recognize the tune. She looked up at the clear blue sky, and at the crowd gathering from all the side streets. This was different from a parade.

Daddy opened the back of the station wagon and pulled out two neatly lettered signs. One said “Down with Discrimination.” The other read “Justice Now.”

“That’s the one I made,” Melody said proudly.

Lila grabbed it. “I can hold it higher,” she said.

Melody pouted, but she knew Lila was right. Daddy lifted the other sign high above everyone’s heads.

“I believe there are thousands of folks out here,” Mommy said as she took Melody’s hand.

Poppa nodded. “More than they predicted on the radio.”

Cobo Hall was the biggest auditorium in Detroit, built right near the Detroit River. People flowed slowly toward Cobo as if they had become a river, and the river sang.

Melody listened. She knew the song, and she opened her mouth to join in, just as Big Momma did, too. Together they sang

We shall not,

We shall not be moved.

We shall not,

We shall not be moved.

Just like a tree that’s standing by the water,

We shall not be moved.

Big Momma took Melody’s other hand. Walking there, between her mother and her grandmother, raising her girl voice with theirs, Melody felt strangely light, as if she could fly if they let go of her hands. And all the other voices surrounding them were like hearts, beating together. This is harmony, Melody thought.

The sea of bodies slowed even more, and then stopped. Melody couldn’t see Cobo Hall, but she knew they were still far away from the entrance.

Mommy let go of Melody and took out her camera to snap pictures. “This is even more remarkable than I expected,” Mommy said.

“I wish Val were here,” Melody said to Mommy. “And Dwayne.” Dwayne had made good on his promise not to join them and had gone to Artie’s after church.

“I know, sweetheart,” Mommy said, taking Melody’s hand again. “You’ll have to listen hard. Then you can tell Val all about it.”

“This is as close as we’re going to get,” Poppa said.

“At least we’ll be able to hear the speeches,” Daddy said. “They’ve got speakers set up.”

The speakers crackled, and the singing faded. A man said something over the loudspeaker, and then someone else spoke. Melody’s legs began to get tired, and she wondered when Dr. King would preach.

Then the roar of applause rose around them. Melody heard a different man’s voice, a strong, clear, Southern voice. At last it was Dr. King! He talked about Abraham Lincoln, and the Emancipation Proclamation that freed Negroes from slavery. He talked about Birmingham, and how racial segregation was wrong.

Melody didn’t understand everything Dr. King said, but she felt the excitement of the crowds around her as they shouted out “Yes!” at certain parts of his speech. People clapped and cheered so hard at other times that Dr. King had to pause. His words took on a rhythm, and he was almost chanting.

“I have a dream,” he said. “With this faith I will go out with you and transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows…” Melody’s insides began to shiver as she thought of the words to “Lift Every Voice”:

Sing a song, full of the faith

that the dark past has taught us

All of her family’s stories flashed through Melody’s mind: Poppa leaving his farm, Mommy making the triple-chocolate cake because Daddy couldn’t buy one, Yvonne being turned away at the bank, Dwayne being treated badly at Fieldston’s.

Sing a song full of the hope

that the present has brought us

Poppa had moved to Detroit and opened his flower shop—where Yvonne now had a summer job. Now Mommy made the best cake ever, and Dwayne was determined to succeed in a music career so that he would be treated fairly. None of them had ever given up hope. Melody felt inspired.

Dr. King was chanting, “Free at last! Free at last!” The applause was like thunder in the sunshine.

On the walk back to the car, Melody made an announcement. “For Youth Day, I’m going to do ‘Lift Every Voice and Sing.’”

“That’s a big song for you, Little One!” Poppa said with a smile. She saw Mommy nodding her approval.

“Yes, it is,” Melody said to him. “But when I hear it, I feel the way I did listening to Dr. King. That’s how I want the audience to feel when I sing at Youth Day. Dwayne says when the words mean something special to a singer, amazing things happen.”

Daddy looked at her with surprise as he unlocked the station wagon. “Dwayne said that, did he?”

“Isn’t that the song that you’ve been humming in your sleep?” Lila asked, climbing into the folding seat.

“I guess,” Melody said, noticing that her grandmother hadn’t said a word. “Do you think it’s a good fit, Big Momma?” Melody whispered.

Big Momma gave Melody’s hand a squeeze. “Your brother is right. And I believe my chick can do anything she sets her mind to.”

Lila snapped her fingers. “Make it work, Dee-Dee. Make it work!”

Val was watching from the front window when they returned from the march. She threw open Big Momma’s front door and ran out. “How was it? Did you carry my sign? Did you see Dr. King?”

“It was great! And no, and no!” Melody answered with enthusiasm. “Lila carried your sign, and we didn’t get close enough to see Dr. King, but we heard him.” Melody took a breath. “But are you okay? Poppa told us what happened with the house.”

Val’s shoulders drooped. “It makes me sad to think that it could have been our house. Mama was sad at first, too, but now she’s mad.”

Melody didn’t want Val to give up her hopes of a swing set and an upstairs. She remembered something from the Walk to Freedom. “Dr. King said he has a dream that black people in Detroit will be able to buy the houses they want,” Melody told her cousin.

“Really?” Val asked. “Dr. King said that?”

“Mm-hmm.” Melody smiled, looping her arm through her cousin’s. “Things are going to change. I just know it.”