wouldn’t love me if they knew. The Seviers were good people––patient and kind. They taught me to find the music.”
“The music?”
She reaches across the table. “Yes, the music, darling. You see, there is one thing I learned from following in Papa Sevier’s footsteps as I grew up. Life is not unlike cinema. Each scene has its own music, and the music is created for the scene, woven to it in ways we do not understand. No matter how much we may love the melody of a bygone day or imagine the song of a future one, we must dance within the music of today, or we will always be out of step, stumbling around in something that doesn’t suit the moment. I let go of the river’s song and found the music of that big house. I found room for a new life, a new mother who cared for me, and a new father who patiently taught me not only how to play music, but how to trust. He was as good a man as ever I’ve known. Oh, it was never like the Arcadia, but it was a good life. We were loved and cherished and protected.”
A sigh lifts her shoulders, then releases her. “To look at me now, you would think I’d never understood the secret. This music of old age…it isn’t made for dancing. It’s so…lonely. You’re a burden to everyone.”
I think of my grandmother, of her empty house, of her room in the nursing home, of her inability to recognize me most days. Tears well up in my eyes. The music of old age is difficult to hear when it’s playing for someone you love. I wonder if my grandmother will recognize May when they’re finally together again. Will May even consent to coming with me? I haven’t asked her yet. Trent is waiting down the hall. He’s driven up from Edisto. After discussing the possibilities, we decided it might be better if I talked to May alone at first.
“Did you ever see Silas again?” The question pops out, and at first it seems random. Then I realize I’ve asked it because I was thinking of Trent…and of May’s tale of first love. Strangely enough, that’s been on my mind lately. Trent’s smile, his silly jokes, his nearness, even just his voice on the phone stirs something in me. The fact that it matters not a whit to him what my family history may be or what decisions I make about it touches me in a way I’m not prepared for. I don’t know how to categorize it or fit it into my life.
I only know that I can’t ignore it.
May’s countenance bores through me. It’s as if she’s digging in and following the veins of ore all the way to my soul. “I wished for it, but some wishes don’t come true. Papa Sevier moved us over to Augusta to protect us from Georgia Tann. Our family was quite well known there, so I imagine he felt that she wouldn’t dare trifle with him across state lines. Silas and Old Zede wouldn’t have known where to find us. I never learned what became of them. My last sight of Silas was through the tangles of my new mother’s hair as she hugged me close. He stood at the edge of the trees where I had been only moments before, and then he turned and went back to the water. I never saw him again.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I always wondered what he might’ve become. Perhaps it was for the best that I never knew. I was growing into a different life, a different world, a different name. I did hear from Arney again years later. A letter came just out of the blue. My mother had it waiting for me when I arrived home from the college term. I’d always imagined that perhaps Arney and Silas had married, but they hadn’t. Zede had found a place for Arney on a dairy farm soon after I left them. Arney was made to work hard, but the people were fair with her. She eventually took a job in a bomber plant and married a soldier. They were living overseas when she wrote to me, and she was quite happy to be seeing the world. She never thought she’d have that sort of opportunity.” Even now, the story brings a smile.
“I’m glad things turned out well for her after such a rough start in life.” Given that