Music in My Heart: My Journey with Melody

Monday morning comes too quickly. Before I know it, Yvonne is standing in Big Momma’s living room, eyes lit with excitement. Now I know how Yvonne’s wrist got hurt, and I’m even more impressed by her courage. No wonder she isn’t nervous about today.

Yvonne asks if we’re ready. Melody says yes, but we need to tell Big Momma we’re leaving so she won’t worry. She calls upstairs, but gets no response, so we head to the kitchen, where a note says Big Momma’s visiting a friend and we can help ourselves to breakfast.

Melody sighs, relieved. No one has to worry about us going to the demonstration now.

We set out for 12th Street, Yvonne leading. The walk feels farther than last night’s car ride, and Yvonne moves so fast that Melody and I can barely keep up. When we ask her to slow down, she says we don’t want to be late. Then it hits me, what if the construction crew is already there? My fast walk turns into a run.

A block from the performance hall, we spot a yellow crane and men in hard hats. Melody groans, sure we’re too late, but Yvonne says they haven’t started yet. We should hurry.

Then we see something else, a crowd, mostly teenagers, gathered in front of the building. Melody stops short and I plow into her back. She points to Josephine, standing tall and proud, Big Momma right beside her. Big Momma spots us and opens her arms wide, tears in her eyes. She couldn’t stay away either, she says. Some things are worth fighting for.

I feel safe in Big Momma’s hug until I hear sirens. Nervous energy runs through the crowd, and Big Momma pulls Melody and me closer. A construction manager jogs over to meet two police officers climbing out of a squad car. They talk for a moment, then the officers head our way. Melody and I squeeze each other’s hands.

Yvonne steps forward and tells the officers we’re staging a peaceful protest. The first officer says peaceful or not, we’re in the way of city business, and they need us to clear out now. Nobody moves. The second officer strokes his mustache and tells us to go home, we’re just kids, this doesn’t involve us.

The officer’s tone is kind, but the words sting. We may be kids, but we’re involved. Music matters.

Yvonne reaches for the boy’s hand next to her. Others link hands too, until they form a wall between the police and the building. I reach for Melody’s hand, then Big Momma’s. None of the volunteers flinch, even as the first officer threatens to arrest anyone who refuses to leave.

The officer with the mustache clearly doesn’t want that. He tries again to send us home. I ask Big Momma if they’re really going to arrest us all. She pulls me close, Melody’s eyes wide too, and tells us not to be scared. We sing, with love in our hearts and good feelings in our souls. Then Big Momma’s low, powerful voice begins.

Josephine joins in. And then Melody sings too, her voice sweet and high, but strong.

The others start to sing too, and something happens. Warmth floods through me, filling me with a feeling so good I can’t help but join in. My voice isn’t deep and strong like Big Momma’s or pure and sweet like Melody’s, but it’s what I’ve got, and I sing with everything I have.

We keep singing for a long time. When a protester starts a song I don’t know, I hum along until the words feel familiar, and the warm feeling stays with me. The construction crew just watches while their manager talks with the police. I’m still singing when a police van appears, and officers suddenly lead a group of protesters toward it. One of them is Yvonne.

Melody squeals and lunges forward. Big Momma tries to soothe her, but Melody breaks free to race after her sister, and Big Momma pushes through the crowd after them both. I try to follow, but too many people stand locked hand in hand, holding me back. When I break free, a police officer is heading my way. Is he going to arrest me? I run toward the hall instead, and then I hear my name, in a voice that sounds like Melody’s.

I spot Melody across the street with Big Momma, waving to me, but I can’t reach her. The river of people is too wide to cross. I stumble into Josephine, who says it’s okay, that she’ll get me to Melody just fine, and takes my hand to push through the crowd. But the only place I want to go right now is home.

I ask Josephine to tell Melody I have to go home, that she’ll understand I miss my family. Josephine hesitates but offers to take me. I shake my head and say I can get there myself. It’s close, and it is, I just need to get to a piano.

Then I remember the piano inside the performance hall. Is it safe? I scan the crowd for the construction crew and spot them heading toward their trucks. Are they leaving? Josephine shakes her head. They’re just taking a coffee break and still have to wait for the police to clear the crowd, which could take a while.

That’s all I need to hear. I hug Josephine, and as she heads across the street, I slip the other way, toward the performance hall door. When I’m sure no one’s looking, I duck inside.

Inside, it’s dark. As my eyes adjust, I make out the shadowy stage and the piano at the back of the room. I hurry down the aisle, climb onto the stage, and lean over the keys, no bench to sit on. My hands shake and I fumble at first, but I start over and do better. Halfway through, a police officer’s voice calls into the darkness and a flashlight beam streaks across the room. I tell myself not to stop. Keep playing.

I play as if my life depends on it. When I reach the end of the song, something shines brightly into my eyes. Is it the flashlight? No, it’s afternoon sunlight pouring through my bedroom window. I’m home!