The Violin Conspiracy(97)

Inside the slit in the padded upper compartment, Jacob discovered a faded clasped envelope. Scrawled in pencil on one side, barely legible, were the words Leon Marks.

Ray had had the documents all along.

He sat up on the edge of his bed in this foreign country, in this foreign world, and realization washed over him, wave upon wave, making it hard to even sit upright.

It all made sense. Of course he had the documents. Every time he’d seen her, Grandma Nora had asked him about the case, always telling him to bring it next time, asking him if he’d gotten rid of it. Why hadn’t she come out and just told him that that was where she’d put PopPop’s papers, keeping all of his legacy together in one place? She could have said something—she’d lived for another two years after she’d given him the violin—why hadn’t she?

In the meantime, Jacob scanned and sent the documents. Several moments later, the emails hit Ray’s inbox.

Two very faded, very creased photographs of an elderly Black man peered up at him. In one the man was standing in front of a house, looking very uncomfortable. In the other he had his arms around two small children. One of them looked like Ray’s grandma.

Next, a death certificate: Leon Marks, b. 1841?, d. Apr 7 1935. Cause of Death: congestive heart failure.

Last were four sheets of faded yellow notebook paper. The words, scrawling and uneven, were in a child’s handwriting.





Chapter 33


    Opening the Envelope


    My name is Nora. Today I talkd back to my momma and I disrespekt Miss Barbara who lives down the street and my grandpa said hes goin to teech me a lesson. My grandpa tol me to rite down eveything he says so thats what Im doin.

When I was a little boy, I livd in the cabin with my momma, my 2 brothers and my 2 sisters. Eveyday we had to work. It seemd like the only time we didn’t do no work was in Church on Sunday. Master Thomas was nice mostly. Espeshelly to momma. She used to say I look just like him.

The missus did not like that. She was always makin us scrub the floor even when we had dun it the nite before. You niggers are only good for workin and singin she always said. She was a wicket woman that treetd the slaves reel bad.

One time I watch her tell Master Thomas that Zeke spilt a pale of feed. She made us all watch Big Jim the overseer beet him half to death with rakes and mallets and then cut off his hand. They took a hot iron with a hook on the end and jammd it into his stump were his hand used to be. She said it was goin to help him. He woodnt never spill nothin else.

My momma wood sing for the Master on Sundays. Thats when she wood let me sit with her and the other slaves that cood play instrawmints. Charles playd the piano in the house on Sunday and Russell playd the fiddle. Momma got Russell to teech me at nite when we finisht workin. She tol me they gone lern you to play music so you dont never have to Worry bout gettin beet or gettin sold. You lern it good.

When the Master wanted music I wood play with Russell, momma and Charles. When Russell got sick the Master put him in the field. He workt him like a dog. When he coodnt work no more, they took him in the Woods and tyed him up and beet him. They made us watch while they put his shirt over his head and whipt him til his skin fell off. He screemd and screemd. Then we didnt heer Russell screemin no more.

Thats when Momma tol me to keep playin that Fiddle so what happn to Russell woodnt happn to me. I used to play for the field workers at nite before they went to bed. I playd and momma sang.

I lernt to play the songs for the master when people come over and they had partys. One time Me and momma went with Master Thomas and his Wife to another house. They made us play for the masters ther. I think his name was master Ezra. Him and his wife likd how I playd and how momma sang. After the party Master Ezra took my Momma away that nite.

When it was time for us to go back the nex morning, Momma was reel sad. She didnt say nothin the hole way back. Momma was sad for a long time. She broke 2 a the missus good teecups. The missus beet her and tol Big Jim to take her outside with the horses. They made her plow the fields until she cant walk no more.

I only saw her at nite. She tol me I had to keep playin. Leon, she said. As long as you got Breth in you you keep playin that fiddle. They wont do to you what they did to Malachi. He was my brother.

He tried to run away. He didnt get far. When they catchd him they took him to the middl of the field and made him dig a great big hole. Then they made him put wood in it. Then they lit a fire. Big Jim made the other field slaves put shakls on his hands and ankls and spred him apart. Them men beet him with a horse whip then cut off his foot and throwd it into that fire. Then they cut off his arm and throwd it into that fire. I wont never forgit how he screemd and how his skin burnin smelt. They kept cuttin up his body and throwd it into the fire. They lafft at him screemin.

When a slave lookt away, they got beet. We had to wach Malachi be cut up and burnt as a lesson. I never saw somebody die like that. Momma tol me as long as I keep playin that fiddle that wood never happn to me. But I remembr what happnd to Russell when he got old and sick.

I used to teech the yungins how to play at nite after they finisht working. Momma tol me to help eveybody I cood and that one day it wood save us.

I playd for the Master and his Wife for yeers and yeers. Old Charles had died and it was just me. I tol the Master that some of the field workers cood play too. It wood be good for us to play at his Party in the evening. Evey nite I wood go to teech the field slaves songs. Momma tried to sing but she coodnt sing no more. Me and William and Betty and Abraham playd for the masters Party. Ther was a lot of people. Master Thomas say we did a fine job and the nex day he let me stop work at noon.