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Eden Revisited · Bright Things Come to Confusion · Kane's Kiss · Like Unto A Ring · Never Alone · Makin' Music
Makin' Music
The boy stood at the back of the dark room, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes glazed, his body tense, his every nerve at attention. His head bobbed as his toe tapped, and his body swayed slightly to the music washing over him, its rhythms and melodies never heard before, never even imagined. Although the individual notes were no different from the ones he'd learned to play on the piano at home, he'd never dreamed of putting them together like this.
A shorter boy stood beside the first, his eyes never leaving his friend's face, soaking in his reaction and experiencing the music through him as if for the first time. "So? Whatcha think?" he asked. When his friend didn't respond, he tried again, "Sebastian?"
Sebastian blinked slowly and turned his head, as if emerging from a trance. "I... I've never heard anything like it."
"They don't got jazz at those fancy white clubs?"
"They do, just... not like this."
The second boy's dark eyes sparkled. "I knew ya'd like it."
"I do! Thank you for bringing me here." Even as he spoke, Sebastian's attention was drawn back to the front of the room as if by a magnet. The sight of the five men making music in ways he'd never heard before enthralled him. Some of them barely looked older than he and his friend. He felt something stirring inside him. He wanted to be up there making music like that.
The second boy continued to stare intently at Sebastian's face, so very unlike the one he saw when he looked in the mirror. His own skin was almost the same color as the rich chocolate bar he'd received for Christmas, his eyes just a shade darker. His new friend was lily white, so pale the light dusting of freckles across his nose looked like cinnamon sprinkled on whipped cream. Sebastian's eyes were the soft blue of cornflowers. Both had almost the same color hair, but where Sebastian's was straight as an arrow and parted neatly down the center, the second boy's was coiled tightly to his head. If he didn't keep it trimmed close it would spring out in a halo of black curls. Their differences were great enough that it should have kept them apart, and yet, somehow they'd become friends. He still marveled when he thought about how it had all happened.
A wealthy man had hired his father to do some gardening work in one of the nicest neighborhoods in CityplaceChicago. The boy had begged to go along. He rarely left their sheltered section of the city, one of the few places it was safe for people his color to make their homes, and he desperately wanted to see how the whites lived. His nagging paid off at last when his father agreed.
He'd tried to take in every detail of the trip there, but all the rest seemed to fade into the background when he saw the house in which they'd be working. It was huge - as big as some of the apartment buildings back in his own neighborhood. The house stood three stories, with ornate trim gracing every possible surface. The yard, which had obviously been equally majestic at one time, had now grown out of control. It would take quite a bit of effort to restore its splendor.
"Just one family lives here?" he'd asked in amazement.
"Yep," his father replied. "Now remember, if we see any of the folks what live here, you treat 'em with respect. Say 'yes, sir', or 'yes, ma'am.' Don't speak unless they speak to you first. And if they tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?"
The boy nodded his understanding and they set to work. They toiled for several days, during which he occasionally saw the family that lived in the house. He was amazed to discover there were only three of them: a man, his wife, and one son that looked to be around fifteen - close to his own age.
One day the man of the house, a tall, distinguished-looking gentleman who always seemed to be wearing a suit, asked his father if he did any handiwork. His father said he did, and the man asked him to come look at something inside.
Forgotten, the boy trailed after them. He'd been longing to see what the interior of the house looked like, and now he had the chance.
Everything was just as splendid as he'd pictured, but he stopped dead in his tracks when they passed the parlor. Sitting in one corner of the room was the most beautiful grand piano he'd ever imagined. It was huge and black, so shiny he could see his reflection in it, right down to the look of longing on his face. He'd only ever played on the shabby old upright in his neighbor's apartment. The man who had been teaching him music said he was a natural. He'd been learning quickly until the neighbor had started putting his hands on more than just the keyboard. The boy had been careful ever since to avoid being alone with the man, which meant he rarely got to play. Those thoughts were miles away now, though, as he stared enviously at the instrument. He'd missed the feel of the keys under his fingers.
"Do you know how to play?" someone asked. He jumped at the sudden voice, and guiltily spun around to find the son staring at him with an odd expression he couldn't quite place. Was he angry?
"I... I'm sorry. I w-wasn't gonna t-touch it, Sir," he stammered, remembering at the last minute to add on the sign of respect his father had insisted he use.
The newcomer smiled. "It's all right. You've been working in the garden. I've seen you."
He nodded.
"I'm Sebastian. What's your name?"
"Biddy," the boy blurted, and immediately regretted it. He should have given his real name, but nobody ever called him that. He decided he'd have to play it out now.
Sebastian looked surprised. "Is that your real name?"
"Don't much matter. That's what everybody calls me, Sir."
Sebastian recovered quickly. "You don't have to call me sir. We're probably the same age, or close to it." He gestured towards the piano. "Do you play?"
"A little," Biddy admitted.
"I've been taking lessons since I was five."
Biddy wasn't sure if Sebastian was bragging or just stating a fact. There was something about this rich white boy that intrigued him, however, so he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Then you must be right good."
Sebastian shrugged. "I think it's boring."
"You got a nice piano like this to play on and you think it's boring?"
Sebastian crossed to the piano and sat down on the bench, lifted the cover off the keys, and began to play. The music was beautiful and completely different from what Biddy was used to hearing. He watched Sebastian's long, thin fingers practically float across the keys and allowed himself to get lost in the notes. Then suddenly, Sebastian stopped.
Biddy blinked and snapped back to reality. "That was beautiful. What's it called?"
A smile flickered across Sebastian's face. "Moonlight Sonata. It's by Beethoven. You've never heard it before?"
Biddy shook his head.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "What kind of music do you play?"
"Nothing like that."
"Will you play for me?"
"I couldn't!"
"Even if I asked you to play?"
He hesitated. His father had instructed him to do whatever the people in the house told him to do. He nodded hesitantly, still not exactly sure if this was quite what his father had meant. "Okay."
Sebastian quickly stood, a grin lighting up his face.
He's almost pretty, Biddy thought as he slowly approached the bench. Like a girl.
Once again, Biddy caught his reflection in the glossy finish of the piano. "Won't your parents be bothered if I play it?"
"I asked you to, remember? If they get mad at anyone it will be me."
Biddy took a deep breath and sat down. He'd never been this close to anything so nice before. He was almost afraid to touch it. He took another breath and tried to remember one of the songs his neighbor had taught him. He started to play the first thing that came to his mind, a fast-paced number that he loved and had played over and over until his hands almost seemed to remember the notes on their own. He was a little rusty as it had been so long since he'd last played the piano. He knew he hit a few bad notes, and once he had to stop and find his finger placement on the keys, but soon enough it all started coming back to him. By the song's end, he was playing smoothly, and with confidence.
When he finished, he was almost afraid to turn around. He'd lost himself in the experience and hadn't thought to check the other boy's reaction. The music he'd just played was very different from the other. What would Sebastian's reaction be? And why did it matter so much to Biddy?
He turned slowly to find Sebastian staring at him with an unreadable expression in his intense eyes. "What was that?"
"I think it's called the Chicago Stomp."
"Who wrote it?"
He shrugged nervously. "I dunno."
"Where did you learn it?"
Biddy was unsure if Sebastian had liked it or not, but he was starting to feel like he was under interrogation from one of the city's famous mob bosses. "From a neighbor."
"It was... incredible. Can you play anything else?"
He liked it. With a sigh of relief, Biddy turned back to the piano and started the second of the only three songs he'd learned. When he stopped again, Sebastian sat next to him on the bench. "Another," he commanded breathily. Biddy quickly complied, playing the last song he knew by heart. Sebastian looked over at Biddy as the last notes faded away. "Another?"
"That's all I can remember right now."
The disappointment was clear in Sebastian's eyes. "I liked that last one the best. What was it called?"
Biddy was suddenly very glad for his dark skin as he felt his face heating up. "It's called Sweetheart of Mine," he mumbled. Why did this boy fluster him so?
A smile slowly spread across Sebastian's face. "You're amazing. Can you teach me to play like that?"
"I ain't really that good." It pained him to admit it in front of this confident boy, but there was no way he knew enough to teach someone else.
"You can't be serious. I've never heard anything like what you just did."
"You should hear the real good ones play, then-Fatha Hines or Jelly Roll Morton."
"I want to," Sebastian replied with such conviction that Biddy knew he'd have to find a way to get the white boy into one of the black clubs in Southside. "Play that last one for me again. Please?"
Biddy grinned and started in on Sweetheart of Mine once more.
"What's going on here?" An angry voice brought his recital to a sudden end.
Sebastian and Biddy leapt to their feet to find their fathers standing in the parlor door. Sebastian's father wore an outraged expression, while Biddy's father just looked scared.
"I asked him to play," Sebastian stated firmly.
Sebastian's father leveled a look of disgust at Biddy. "I won't have that music in my house. You're not to touch the piano again, or anything else in this house for that matter. From now on, stay in the yard." He turned to Biddy's father. "I'll find someone else to do the work inside. You've done a fine job in the garden so I'll keep you on there. Sebastian, come with me."
Biddy dropped his head and tried hard not to cry as Sebastian stiffly walked away. He knew he'd lost money for his family and he was deeply ashamed.
As he filed out of the house in front of his silent father, Biddy heard Sebastian's father say, "What were you thinking? Stay away from Negroes." Biddy squeezed his eyes tightly shut in a futile attempt to stem the tears that were building.
Upset by the scene with Sebastian's father, he forgot all about his idea to take Sebastian to a jazz club until he was almost home. Even then, he didn't waste time hatching a plan. He doubted he'd ever see Sebastian again. He'd lost his father extra income, money that could have made a difference for their large family.
He was expecting a beating, but much to his surprise, when they arrived home his father sat him down and asked him what had happened. When Biddy explained how the boy asked him to play, his father nodded and said he'd done right. "You did what he told you, just like I said. I can't be mad about that. Now, you've proven yourself a good worker, so if you promise to stay away from that white boy, you can keep helping me."
Biddy quickly agreed. He would have agreed to anything if it meant even a chance of seeing Sebastian again.
"I mean it, Biddy." His father's voice was stern. "If you make that boy's daddy mad enough, we might lose the whole job."
For the next few days, Biddy didn't see any signs of Sebastian. Then, while he was trimming back an unruly hedge one hot afternoon, he heard a soft psst coming from the other side of the row. He looked around but his father was busy working at the far end of the yard.
"Psst!" It came again. "Back here."
Biddy stepped through the hedge to find Sebastian crouched in a patch of tall grass.
"What're you doing?" Biddy asked.
"Shh! I needed to see you." Sebastian reached up and pulled Biddy down with a yank of his wrist. Biddy's heart began to race at the other boy's touch and the excitement of the forbidden meeting.
Biddy said the first thing that came to his mind. "I ain't supposed to talk to you no more." He could have kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth.
Sebastian just shrugged. "I'm not supposed to see you either. This is the first chance I've had to sneak away while you're here working. We'd better not get caught."
Biddy nodded vigorously. He definitely didn't want the adults to catch them if it meant he and his father would lose their job here. If that happened, he'd never see Sebastian again, but seeing and whispering to him now seemed worth the risk somehow. "Why you wanna talk to me?"
"I... I want to go see those people you told me about, the ones you said were better than you."
Biddy drooped with disappointment. "Is that all?"
"Well... I want to see them with you. I mean... I wanted to see you, too. I thought we could go together. You could take me." Sebastian stumbled awkwardly over his words.
"We could get in trouble."
"I know."
"So why would you want to do that?"
Sebastian stared into Biddy's eyes and bit his lip. Suddenly, he blurted, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
"What?"
"I lie in bed at night and I hear that song you played for me - the Sweetheart one."
"Sweetheart of Mine."
"Yes. I see you playing it. It's all I think about. You're all I think about."
Biddy was having trouble breathing. "I... I'll take you. But how?"
"We need to come up with a plan. I can sneak out or something and we can meet."
"Biddy?" It was Biddy's father calling. "Where'd you get to?"
Biddy looked at Sebastian in panic.
"Pretend you're working on the hedge," Sebastian hissed. Biddy quickly jumped to his feet and started to clip away at the overgrown shrubbery. "Answer him."
"I'm over here cutting the bushes back," Biddy yelled. His voice broke, but his father seemed not to notice.
"As long as you ain't slacking off..."
"No, I'm working." He looked down at Sebastian, but the boy was gone.
Later in bed, Biddy desperately tried to come up with a plan. The look in Sebastian's eyes made him willing to risk anything to please his new friend. He lay awake long into the night, thinking as hard as he could. Finally, he hit upon an idea, which he shared with Sebastian the next day in a frantically whispered conversation held behind a hydrangea bush.
"Do you s'pose my plan will work?" he asked when he'd finished.
"I think it's brilliant - better than anything I've dreamed up." Sebastian's face was glowing with excitement. "I can hardly wait. I wish it was happening tonight!"
"We have to wait. On a night when more people are there, you won't stand out so bad."
"I know, but... Oh!" He grabbed Biddy in a sudden hug that caught the smaller boy unprepared. By the time he thought to return the hug, Sebastian had released him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Welcome..." Biddy murmured dazedly. His mind was still on how it had felt being held in Sebastian's arms, however briefly.
"I'd better go, before we get caught," Sebastian said, his eyes lingering on Biddy's face. Biddy nodded reluctantly, and Sebastian backed slowly away.
Less than a week later, they stood in the Apex Club watching Earl "Fatha" Hines play with Jimmie Noone's orchestra. Biddy didn't know how Sebastian had managed to get away from his parents, but he'd shown up right where Biddy had told him to be, and right when he'd told him to be there.
Once they reached the club, however, Biddy had second thoughts about the wisdom of bringing Sebastian. His wasn't the only white face present, but they were few and far between - few enough to draw attention. So far, the two of them had stayed to the back in the shadowy corners, where everyone had pretty much ignored them. One look at his friend's face, however, and all Biddy's doubts melted away. Sebastian's expression was one of pure bliss.
Suddenly, shouting came from across the room. Biddy was immediately on alert. He knew the scuffles that often broke out in these clubs could turn deadly in seconds. "Maybe we should leave."
Sebastian tore his eyes from the musicians to focus on Biddy. "Just a few more minutes. Please?"
Biddy nodded as his heart pounded in his chest. How could he say no to those eyes? He wanted so badly to please Sebastian. He desperately needed the other boy to like him. But why? Why did it matter so much? He'd never really cared about what anyone thought of him before. And why had he fallen asleep every night that week imagining he was once again in Sebastian's arms?
The shouting grew louder, snapping Biddy's attention back to the situation at hand. Several more people had joined the fracas, although it was still just yelling so far. One of the large men hired to keep things under control in the club was moving in their direction. The band never missed a note. Biddy supposed they were used to things like this. Sebastian was still mesmerized by their music.
The sound of smashing glass caused even some of the musicians to look up. Sebastian glanced around as if noticing for the first time that something was going on.
"What's happening?" His eyes grew wide with fear when one of the aggressors threw the first punch.
"Trouble," Biddy said grimly. "Let's split." He started for the door, along with several other patrons. He was almost out before he noticed Sebastian wasn't following. He turned to find his friend still rooted to the spot watching the fight, which was quickly developing into an all-out brawl. "Come on!" he called.
Sebastian stared at him like a frightened rabbit. Biddy turned back, but just as he reached Sebastian's side a gunshot blasted. Several women screamed. The music came to an abrupt halt when the musicians ran for cover. Sebastian threw himself against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut, appearing to believe that as long as he couldn't see anyone, they couldn't see him.
"We gotta get outta here!" Biddy yelled over the chaos. He looked back towards the door, through which everyone in the club was trying to escape at the same time. When another shot rang out, the crowd started getting rough. Biddy knew there was no longer any point trying to reach the main exit. He and Sebastian were smaller, and would surely be trampled by the panicked mob.
He looked around the club for another way out. Shouldn't there be a back exit? Behind the group of brawling men there was one door he thought led to a kitchen area. At least, women had been bringing out drinks and food from there all evening.
Then he noticed another door on the far side of the stage that was wide open. He grabbed Sebastian by the wrist and pulled him toward it, crouching low, hoping no one would bother them. They ducked through to find themselves in what at first glance appeared to be a coat room and storage space. Boxes were stacked high along one wall, while racks filled with winter garments despite the warm weather took up the rest of the space.
Biddy realized he was still holding Sebastian's wrist and quickly let go. Luckily, Sebastian was too scared to notice. Biddy pushed through one of the racks of coats and discovered a table surrounded by chairs. Gaming chips in the center of the table and a scattering of hastily abandoned playing cards hinted at the room's real purpose. It took but a few seconds for Biddy to realize that the door by which they'd entered was the only way out. The blank walls didn't even offer so much as a window they could climb through.
Biddy peeked back into the main room. The fight had finally broken up, but several men were lying motionless on the floor.
"The police will be here in a few minutes," someone called from the street door. "No one can leave." That caused the remaining crowd to redouble their efforts to get out, but the large man in their way held his ground.
"The police?" Sebastian gasped. "My father will kill me! He can't know I was here!"
"How'd you get outta the house?"
"I climbed through the window. I told them I wasn't feeling well and went to bed early. If they discover I left... and that I was at a Negro club..." His voice faded away, but his expression left no doubt the repercussions would not be pleasant.
Biddy glanced toward the exit again. "Well, we ain't leaving through that door."
"Then we have to hide!"
"Hide where? Do you see somewhere to hide in here? Inside those coats will be the first place they look."
Sebastian cast around with growing panic. Feeling his heart melt, Biddy took pity on the frightened boy. "What about behind them boxes? Maybe we can move 'em so you can't tell we're under there."
Sebastian didn't waste time with words. He just leapt toward the boxes and began to rearrange them. Biddy joined him to help with a particularly heavy one. They worked side-by-side in silence, quickly creating a pyramid of boxes with a hollow area in the center. They crawled inside, and Biddy pulled the final box into place, sealing them within the tomblike space. Only a thin shaft of light pierced the gloom of their hideout.
For a second, Biddy had to fight down a rising sense of panic, but Sebastian's presence calmed him. They hadn't left much room, which necessitated a closeness that Biddy found he didn't mind at all. In fact, he was once again having trouble breathing, only now it had nothing to do with their confinement. "I'm real sorry 'bout all this," he gasped.
"I'm not. It was worth it to hear them. I want to learn to play like that. Will you bring me again?"
"Yes." There was no hesitation in his answer - any excuse to see Sebastian once more.
They were quiet for several minutes. They could still hear shouts from the club, but there'd been no more shots fired. The police would be there soon, and the boys could only hope the authorities wouldn't find them.
"My arm is going to sleep," Sebastian whispered after a while. They shifted and Sebastian threw his arm over Biddy, pulling him close.
Biddy could feel Sebastian's breath on his cheek. His heart began to pound so hard he was sure the other boy must be able to hear it. He turned his face towards Sebastian. In the dim light, he could see Sebastian studying him.
"Why do they call you Biddy?"
"Cuz I'm the smallest in my family." Confusion showed clearly on Sebastian's face, so Biddy explained. "My mom was raised on a farm. They used to call young chickens biddies, and when I was little, she said I looked like a baby chicken, so she started calling me her Little Biddy. Now everyone calls me that."
"You don't look like a chicken now." Sebastian's voice was suddenly husky.
Their faces drew a little closer. Biddy wasn't sure which one of them moved, or if it was both of them at the same time. He froze and stared into Sebastian's eyes, then found himself closing the distance between them. Their lips met, but it wasn't a kiss. They simply pressed their lips softly together. They stayed like that for so long they both lost track of time. Then one of them - neither was sure which - began to move his lips. The other responded and they gently began to kiss. The jazz band's instruments were lying silent where their owners had left them, but now Sebastian and Biddy made their own music.
For a brief time, nothing existed for the boys except their two bodies pressed together. Then, they were snatched roughly back to reality as voices invaded their moment. Men had entered the room with them - police, Biddy guessed. He and Sebastian jerked apart. Fear once again filled Sebastian's eyes.
The boys heard the coat racks being moved as the voices came closer. The men seemed to be doing a cursory search.
"Should I check these boxes, Sarge?" The voice came from right over them.
"I don't see why," someone answered.
Biddy felt Sebastian relax ever so slightly in his arms. His relief was short-lived, however, as the second voice spoke up again. "Actually, we'd better. The Chief said to leave no stone unturned."
The top box suddenly disappeared and the boys found themselves staring up into the face of a very surprised cop. "Uh, Sarge... We've got some kids here."
"What?"
"Kids. Two of them."
"They probably belong to one of the women in the kitchen."
The cop shook his head. "Don't think so. One of them is white."
The two police officers quickly moved the boxes and pulled Sebastian and Biddy to their feet. "What are you doing here?" The question was directed at Sebastian. Biddy, for the moment, was of little consequence to the authorities.
"I... I w-wanted to hear the music, b-but then the fighting started... so we hid."
The man called Sarge looked Sebastian over. "You're well off. Do your parents know you're in a Negro night club?"
Sebastian's eyes grew even larger. "No, sir! P-please... please don't tell them."
Sarge frowned. "I don't really see any way around it, son. You're in a Negro establishment where someone was just shot and killed."
Sebastian looked as if he might collapse at any minute. Huge tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
The officer turned his attention to Biddy. He didn't seem to like what he saw. "Did you bring him here?"
Biddy didn't trust his voice so he simply nodded.
The man's hand shot out so quickly Biddy didn't even have time to dodge the strike. The force of the blow sent the small boy flying into the boxes. Sebastian cried out, but Biddy didn't make a sound.
Biddy waited for the next blow, but Sarge was distracted when another officer suddenly showed up at the door. "Sarge, I think we found the shooter."
Sarge shook his head. "Must be your lucky day, boys. Get out." He pointed a stubby finger in Sebastian's face. "You stay out of places like this." He turned a glare in Biddy's direction. "And away from trash like that." Then he and the other two officers walked quickly away.
Sebastian quickly rushed to Biddy's side, a sob erupting from his chest. "Are you okay?"
Biddy wiped the blood from his lip. "I'm fine. We best get outta here before he changes his mind."
The two boys quickly slipped out the door as unobtrusively as possible. Luckily, no one paid them any attention. They breathed twin sighs of relief once they felt the cool night air around them. Falling into step with one another, they hurried away from the club.
Sebastian rubbed the remnants of his tears from his face. "Sorry I acted like a baby in there." Now that he was safe, he found himself feeling awkward and ashamed.
Biddy studied him for a few seconds. "It's all right. I don't suppose you see that sort of thing too often."
Sebastian's expression was part horror and part concern. "Do you?"
Biddy shrugged. "Often enough. I shouldn'ta brung you there."
Sebastian shook his head violently. "I'm glad you did - even with everything that happened. The music was... it was amazing. I've never heard anything like it." His gaze shifted to the ground. "And... kissing you... that was... nice. Really nice."
Biddy had almost forgotten about the kissing in all the excitement that had followed. He felt a warm flush come over him at the memory and was suddenly very glad he was dark and it was even darker out. "I liked it, too."
Sebastian cast a sly grin in Biddy's direction. "So when are we coming back?"