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The boy who sang for others.

Article Excerpt
I WERE ALWAYS SCARED OF Granny when I were a little girl, and my Daddy had a lot to do with that, as you all know, because he were always talking about her behind her back. It were her fault that Momma run off, and it were her fault that Momma never come back. Some of you say she had a good mothering instinct, but she weren't never no substitute in my eyes. You all sit there in your rocking chairs, talking about the good old days, and you let her off by saying she were a mountain woman and she had her ways, but I tell you she had a hard look around the jaw, and she were hard on me and Bobby. I guess she loved us though. She always helped us out when she could.

You want to know about that time she came to live with Daddy and me and Bobby. Daddy never let me tell that story when he were alive. He had his reasons, but he kept them to himself. Daddy clammed up whenever somebody asked him about it, and if it looked like I might up and answer for him, he would say, "Ain't you got dishes to do?" Or he might say, "About time you got to mending that dress of yours, don't you thinks." Of course my dress never needed mending because I wouldn't let myself be seen in a torn dress.

When my brother, Bobby, were eight years old, he got kicked in the head by a horse. I always thought Little Betty is probably the one that done it. She never had much patience, and Bobby always loved to pester the animals. It happened in the barn and no one saw it nor knew just when it happened. When Daddy found him lying in the dirt, Bobby were babbling something under his breath that Daddy couldn't understand. Strange, Daddy said, because the boy were unconscious and limp as he could be. He had never seen anything like it in the war or since. We put Bobby to bed, which was all we could do, and he stayed unconscious for many days. He come real near to death. Me and Daddy prayed right hard over him.

We sent for the doctor, but he didn't come right away. We prayed for Bobby, like I said, and now and then we got some water down him, but never no food. Then one day he just woke up. I were standing right next to him when he opened his eyes. He saw me, but he didn't recognize me, and that's when I guessed that he wouldn't be Bobby anymore, poor thin little thing that he were. The doctor finally came, but there wasn't anything he could do. That's when Granny come to live with us, because I couldn't take care of everything by myself. I were only twelve.

Granny stood no more than five foot two, but she were heavy and round. She had her own method of keeping house, and she let everyone know it, especially me. It were her special delight to scold me by way of teaching me how to cook and clean. I didn't like it, but Daddy said that's the way it's got to be.

Granny said, "The boy will come back to us one day. He'll be as strong as ever. We...

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