Jefferson's Sons

When Mama came home that afternoon, she told Maddy Master Jefferson said it was time he started learning to play the violin.

Mama sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Aren’t you glad?”

Maddy shrugged. “I guess.”

“I thought you wanted lessons. You said so before.”

“Yeah,” Maddy said. “I mean, yes, ma’am. I do. I’m glad. Thank you.”

Mama looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

Maddy looked away. “I sold him that bird. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had the bird back.” Mostly, though, he wished he had his words back—the words he’d said to James.

Mama looked puzzled. “What would you do with a mockingbird?”

“Set him free,” said Maddy.

“Oh, baby.” Mama wrapped her arms around him, and rocked him back and forth. “Don’t you worry about that. Don’t you worry. You’re going to be free, I promise. You and Beverly and Harriet and Eston—”

“How about James?”

Mama’s smile faded. She quit rocking Maddy, but she held him tight. “I can’t save other women’s children, Maddy, darling. I can only save my own.”

“He’s mad at me,” Maddy said. “James.”

Mama nodded like she understood, even though she couldn’t really, since Maddy hadn’t told her the whole story.

“When I came back from France,” Mama said, “I came home to family I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. Everyone could tell I was going to have a baby, and it didn’t take them too long to realize who the father of the baby was. Some folks thought I was a fool. Others were jealous, both then and now. We’ve got advantages because of Master Jefferson, but there are disadvantages too. I’m sorry James feels bad. You’ve got to keep on loving him, Maddy. No matter what. You can’t help all the other stuff, but you can love him no matter what, and when he knows you do he’ll come around. Can you understand that? I know you love James.”

“I wish Joe Fossett was my daddy,” Maddy said.

“Well, I don’t,” Mama said. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. We can’t change your daddy. Aren’t you pleased about violin lessons? You like listening to Beverly play.”

“I won’t sound like Beverly. He’s good.” Maddy had messed around with Beverly’s violin, but it never sounded right.

“Jesse will fix you up,” Mama said. “You go down with Beverly this week. Work hard. Make your father proud.”

Maddy rolled his eyes. He couldn’t imagine making his father proud. On the other hand, the next time James asked him what his father had given him, he’d be able to say, “Violin lessons.” James would think it was stupid, but at least Maddy would have something to say.

Two days later, when Maddy and Beverly set out for Jesse Scott’s, Eston followed them down the row, whining. “Can I come?” he said. “Please? I want to come!” Eston was four years old.

“You can’t come,” Maddy said. “We’re walking all the way down the mountain, and then we have to walk all the way back up again. It’s miles and miles. You’re too small.”

Eston’s face puckered up, ready to cry. “Oh, hush,” Beverly told Maddy. “You can come, Eston. Run tell Mama.”

“He’ll be nothing but trouble,” Maddy said.

“He’ll be fine.” Beverly handed Maddy the violin. When Eston dashed back, all smiles, Beverly lifted Eston onto his shoulders.

Maddy said, “You don’t ever carry me.”

Beverly slipped an arm around Maddy’s shoulder. “I don’t have to, you’re so big and strong. Tell me the story about catching that bird.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Maddy.

“A bird’s not a person,” Beverly said, as if he could read Maddy’s thoughts. “People and animals are not the same. We eat birds, and rabbits, and coons, and possums. All sorts of wild things from the woods. That mockingbird, he’d be glad not to be eaten, if he knew the difference. He’d be happy to sing.”

“Maybe,” said Maddy.

“Absolutely,” said Beverly. “He’ll get tame, like the old bird. He’ll ride on Papa’s shoulder and take food from Papa’s mouth.”

Maddy’s eyes widened. Eston, from his perch on Beverly’s shoulders, laughed aloud. “You said Papa!” Eston said.

Beverly smiled. “I can when it’s just us together. But don’t tell Mama.”

“I don’t think of him as Papa,” Maddy said. “That word never comes to my head.”

“I know,” Beverly said. “I’m sorry.”

At Jesse Scott’s, when Beverly opened the violin case, Eston grabbed the violin. His arms were too short to hold it properly, but he stuck the side of it under his chin, and he put the bow right by his face, and he played! He played a lot better than Maddy could. Maddy wanted to be annoyed, but Eston’s face was so bright with excitement, and his eyes were so round, and what he was doing sounded so much like actual music that Maddy had to laugh.

Jesse Scott laughed too, and Beverly laughed loudest of all. “Eston,” he said, “have you been messing with my violin?”

“N-no,” Eston said, stammering with excitement. “N-no, no, I just watch when you play.” He turned to Jesse Scott. “I got to learn to play the violin, sir. My daddy wants me to.”

“He does, does he?” Jesse Scott raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, sir, he said so.”

“When did he say so?” Maddy asked. “Mama just said me!”

“He talks to me when I’m sleeping,” Eston said. “My daddy does. He comes in when I’m dreaming and he tells me how I’m supposed to play the violin. And I’m supposed to learn to make it go like this.” Eston started to whistle, exactly on tune, the song “Money Musk.”

Maddy didn’t know what to say. Master Jefferson walked past their room on his way to the blacksmith shop or the garden, but Maddy’d never known him to step inside. He didn’t visit Eston in the night. Maddy felt sorry for Eston, that he would make up a story like that.

Jesse Scott said, “Eston, if I had a violin small enough, I’d teach you to play right now. But I don’t, so you’ll just have to wait until your arms grow.”

Eston looked up, very solemn. “I can’t wait,” he said.

Jesse Scott looked solemn too. “You come down with Beverly and Madison, every week. You pay attention, and see what you can learn. All right? Then, when your arms get long enough, I’ll teach you.”

On the way home Maddy started to teach his brothers the alphabet. “B, that sounds like buh,” he said. “Like baby. Like biscuit.”

“Baby,” said Eston. “Biscuit. Board. Biolin!”

“Not biolin,” Maddy said. “It’s violin. It starts with a V. Vuh, violin.”

“Can you spell the whole word violin?” Beverly asked.

“Not yet,” Maddy said. “But I know it doesn’t start with a B.”

“Yes, it does,” Eston said. “B starts biolin, and that sounds like violin.”

Beverly put his arms around Eston and swung him around. “B starts billy and that sounds like silly and that sounds like Eston!”

“You’re crazy, both of you,” Maddy said, laughing.

Eston was plumb crazy about playing the violin. He spent the next day climbing a mulberry tree and hanging from a branch until he fell off, over and over again.

Harriet said, “What are you doing, training to be a monkey?”

“He’s trying to stretch his arms,” Maddy said.

“Pull on me!” Eston said. “Stretch me out! I can’t wait to be big!”

A week after the mockingbird argument, James poked his head inside Maddy’s cabin door. Maddy jumped up. He’d been writing on his piece of roof slate. He tried to hide the slate pencil in the palm of his hand.

James looked him up and down. Maddy knew he’d seen the pencil.

Maddy shrugged. He held the slate toward James. “I’m practicing my letters,” he said. “Want to try?”

James took the pencil and the slate. Maddy rubbed the slate clean. James said, “I came to see if you wanted to go fishing.”

“Sure,” Maddy said. “We haven’t been all week.”

“I guess you’ve been busy,” James said, “going down to Charlottesville and all.”

“That was just once,” Maddy said. “I’ll be going every week, I guess, but only once so far. James—”

“I’m sorry,” James cut in. “I shouldn’t have talked bad about Master Jefferson to you. I’d be plenty mad if you talked bad about my father.”

“I couldn’t,” Maddy said. “Nobody could say anything bad about your father.” He paused. “I’m sorry about what I said too.”

James looked at the slate. He carefully wrote a wobbly J. He handed the slate back to Maddy. “My daddy can write,” he said. “He writes his accounts. He doesn’t have much time to teach me, but I asked him and he said he’s going to try.”

“I know where you can get a roof slate,” Maddy said.

James grinned. Maddy loved James’s grin. “Later. Right now, let’s fish.”