Solo

to hug him back.

Oh, one more thing, he adds. That favor you wanted, it’s been delivered.

No way, how’d you do that?

I’m a rock star, I can do whatever I want.

Where’d they put it?

The school.

So cool, Dad. Thanks.

No, thank you, son.

For what?

For giving me a reason to be better. For you.

I’ll see you when you get back.

It’ll be soon. Gotta make sure the dormitory gets started before I bail. I love you, Blade.

C’mon, don’t get all mushy. Let the kid go, Rutherford, Uncle Stevie shouts.

Joy and I leave

the hospital

relieved

that Rutherford

is keeping

the night watch

over Sia.





Tuesday, 2:30 am


When we get back

to the village,

there are no drums

no dancing children

no soccer balls

no Fela

no men cutting

no women washing

and laughing

at the day’s

happenings,

just me

and a river

of Joy

bathing

beneath

the African night.





Let us sit, she says,


so we do,

under the coconut tree.

She holds my hands.

You have finally met your mother. How do you feel?

Full. Happy for once.

That makes me happy, my friend.

Is that what we are, friends?

That is the best we can be. It is the beginning of all things that really matter.

How do you do that?

Do what?

Make everything sound so dayum good.

I have a request.

Anything.

The song you sang for Auntie Lucy was a treasure. Did you write that?

I wish. It’s a famous American rock song.

Maybe one day, you will write a song— For you?

For all of us, for Konko, she says, letting my hand go.

Why do you hold my hand?

Do not read anything into it, Blade Morrison. It simply makes me feel good. Like a— Natural woman?

Now, that is the kind of song you can write for me.

Maybe one day, I will.





Track 14: (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman


ROCKER: ARETHA FRANKLIN / ALBUM: LADY SOUL / LABEL: ATLANTIC RECORDS / RECORDING DATE: FEBRUARY–DECEMBER 1967 / STUDIOS: ATLANTIC STUDIOS IN NEW YORK CITY

Some people say it’s spiritual, the relationship between

a woman

and her God.

Some people say it’s about how real love makes you feel

after you’ve been rescued

from yourself despite yourself.

When the right person comes along after a long, hard rain.

Funny thing is, her producer, Jerry Wexler, was driving down the street one day

contemplating a song idea about the natural man when he passed by the amazing songwriter, Carole King.

Word is,

he shouted I need a “natural woman”

song

for Aretha Franklin, and the rest is platinum history.

Sometimes Fate

Is

Just

That

Simple.





Sleepy Serenade


She dozes off right there.

So I carry her onto the bus, place her

in one of the bunks, shoot a quick text to Storm to let her know we’re both okay, and then take the last step of my journey before the roosters and the morning taxis bring in

the new day.

I read the letter.





Dear Blade


As I sit and write this, I look over at your blue-black eyes and copper smile. You are the happiest seven-year-old I’ve ever seen. You’re reading comics and practicing guitar with your dad. And, I’m sad. I’m sad, because if you’re reading this, it means I’m gone.

I know you’ll wonder why we never told you your story before now. Blade, sometimes it’s difficult to explain family and secrets and why you want to keep some things sacred and sealed until the right time. Perhaps there will never be a right time, or maybe right now it is just when you’ll need to read this.

I love you, son. Your father loves you. I don’t know how we got so lucky to find you, or maybe you found us. What I do know is that we were meant to be a family. We may have adopted you when you were just born, but you came to me in a dream, almost a year earlier. I remember your face. I remember your big, curly hair. I remember every second of our journey together.

Lucy November was just a girl. I used to babysit her.

She never wanted to watch TV or play games, she was always reading National Geographic, talking about how she wanted to see the world. Save the world. I bet, if you go looking for her, and you find her, Blade, she’s off somewhere changing the world.

You must know she didn’t want to give you up. She had some bad things happen to her, and it scarred her. And it scared her parents. I think they thought they were doing the best thing for her by giving you a fresh start. I never worried that she’d survive though. Lucy was smart and funny, and even after everything that happened, she never lost her laugh.

When you meet her, and I’m sure you will one day, you will see it written all over her face. You will hear it in her Louisiana twang. When you do go looking, I want you to have your guitar with you. Play something special for her, Blade. I promised her you’d be okay. Show her that you are.

Forgive us, beautiful boy made of strings and frets, soundboard and a bridge, and turning pegs and chords.

You are made of pure music and soul and love. And, you will always be a Morrison.

Rock and Roll, Baby,

Mom





Conversation


You’ve been up all night?

How can you tell?

Your eyes are blood red.

Something like that.

Your American pillows are too soft, she says, stretching her neck. What time is it?

About ten.

Oh my, I need to go.

First, can I show you something?

Is it coffee?

It’s a surprise.

Well, it will have to wait. I cannot be late for school. I already missed three days.

It is at the school, so you will not be late.

Very well. Let me freshen myself up. Please leave the bus first. It will not look good if we walk off together.

I was a gentleman. Nothing happened.

People’s minds prefer the worst.

True. I’ll see you at the school. Towels are in the drawer beneath the bed.

Oooh! A shower. Nice!





Surprise


Pretty much

the entire village is gathered

at the school,

marveling

at the glistening white machine

at the front

of the room.

When Joy

walks through

the door,

I shush

everyone

and present

her with

A washing machine? Blade, Blade, BLADE! This is a washing machine. Why would you do this?

Why would I not?

The entire village applauds

and Joy

buries her head in my chest,

her eyes

warm and

full of gratitude.

This is what friends do, I say. My father will get the plumbing for it, but it should last for a while.

She kisses me,

and my whole world is her right now.

The celebration continues

outside

with each

of the women

in the village

hugging me

and thanking

my family

for our kindness.

After I hug

number nineteen, I find Joy

and ask her

if she will

go to Accra

with me

for a proper date.

You think because you buy a girl a washing machine that she will have a date with you?

I bought this for the village, not just for you, my friend, I say almost sarcastically.

Hmmm. You make a good point, Blade.

. . . .

Are you happy?

. . . .

Blade.

Kwame Alexander, Mary Rand Hess's books