he cared about you, cared enough to try to make you feel better, and so you did feel better.
Thinking of Alvin making folks feel better made Arthur Stuart remember something that Alvin did to make him feel better. "Why don't you sing that song, Alvin?"
Now it was Alvin's turn to blush in embarrassment. "You know I ain't no singer, Arthur. Just because I sung it to you..."
"He made up a song," said Arthur Stuart. "About being locked up in here. We sung it together yesterday."
Mike Fink nodded. "Seems like a Maker got to keep making something."
"I got nothing to do but think and sing," said Alvin. "You sing it, Arthur Stuart, not me. You've got a good singing voice."
"I'll sing it if you want," said Arthur. "But it's your song. You made it up, words and tune."
"You sing it," said Alvin. "I don't even know if I'd remember all the words."
Arthur Stuart dutifully stood up and started to sing, in his piping voice:
I meant to be a journeyman, To wander on the earth. As quick as any fellow can, I left the country of my birth, It's fair to say I ran.
Arthur Stuart looked over at Alvin. "You got to sing the chorus with me, anyway."
So together they sang the rollicking refrain:
At daybreak I'll be risin', For never will my feet be still, I'm bound for the horizon - oh! I'm bound for the horizon.
Then Arthur went back to the verse, but now Alvin joined him in a kind of tenor harmony, their voices blending sweetly to each other.
Till I was dragged from bed, And locked inside a little cell. My journeys then were in my head, On all the roads of hell.
With the next verse, though, when Arthur began it, Alvin didn't join in, he just looked confused.
Alone with my imagining, I dreamt the darkest dream -
"Wait a minute, Arthur Stuart," said Alvin. "That verse isn't really part of this song."
"Well, it fits, and you sung it to this tune your own self."
"But it's a nonsense dream, it don't mean a thing."
"I like it," said Arthur. "Can't I sing it?"
Alvin waved him to go ahead, but he still looked embarrassed.
Alone with my imagining, I dreamt the darkest dream, Of tiny men, a spider's sting, And in a land of smoke and steam, An evil golden ring.
"What does that mean?" asked Armor-of-God.
"I don't know," said Alvin. "I wonder if sometimes I don't accidentally end up with somebody else's dream. Maybe that was a dream that belonged to somebody of ancient days, or maybe somebody who ain't even been born yet. Just a spare dream and I chanced to snag on it during my sleep."
Verily Cooper said, "When I was a boy, I wondered if the strange people in my dreams might not be just as real as me, and I was in their dreams sometimes too."
"Then let's just hope they don't wake up at a inconvenient moment," said Mike Fink dryly.
Arthur Stuart went on with the last verse.
The accusations all were lies, And few believed the tale, So I was patient, calm and wise. But legs grow weak inside a jail, And something in you dies.
"This song may be the saddest one I ever heard," said Horace Guester. "Don't you ever have a cheerful thought in here?"
"The chorus is pretty sprightly," said Arthur Stuart.
"I had cheerful thoughts today," said Alvin, "thinking of four Slave Finders losing their license to carry off free men and put them into bondage in the south. And now I'm cheerful again, knowing that the strongest man I ever fought is now going to be my bodyguard. Though the sheriff may not take kindly to it, Mr. Fink, since he thinks I'm safe enough as long as I'm in the care of him and his boys."
"And you are safe," said Peggy. "Even those deputies that don't like you would never raise a hand against you or allow you to be less than safe."
"There's no danger, then?" asked Horace Guester.
"Grave danger," said Peggy. "But not from the deputies, and most particularly not till the trail is over, and Alvin prepares to leave. That's when we'll need more than a bodyguard to die along with Alvin. We'll need subterfuge to get him out of town in one piece."
"Who says I'll die?" asked Fink.
Peggy smiled thinly. "Against any five men I think you two would do well."
"So there'll be more than five?" asked Alvin.
"There may be," said Peggy. "Nothing is clear right now. Things are in flux.