House of Rougeaux(73)

Eleanor put her handkerchief to her face, but there were too many tears for it. The ugliest truth was that Jack would most likely never play the way he did before. In an instant, those men had stripped him of everything most dear. It could have happened to any one of them.

“But I will tell you one thing.” Joop’s voice wavered but his words rang like a clock striking the hour. “I have never been so proud of anything as I am of all of you. You have made me proud and you have made Dr. Du Bois proud. What we’re doing is important, and nothing’s going to stop us.”

The company voiced their support and Lemuel went to Joop’s side, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Joop held his hands up to quiet things down.

“Now I need to tell you that our conductor will be leaving us. He’ll be sorely missed.” Gasps and murmurs filled the room. “Lemuel, why don’t you say your piece.”

Lemuel stayed quiet a moment before speaking. “Look,” he said, “I’ve got to go.” He shook his head back and forth. “I could tell you that I got a better offer, but there’s no way there’s a better offer anywhere. Most of you know I’m a believer. My Creator tells me to go home now, and I’ll abide by that. I feel the same as Joop. My work with you all is the proudest I’ve ever done. I do thank you.”

“In light of things,” Joop said to the group, “I hope you will join us in supporting our new conductor.” He lifted a hand toward Jack, and Jack, leaning heavily on a cane, stood up. It would take him months to fully recover, but he stood there on his feet.

One by one each member of the Frangipani Orchestra stood up too, and gathered close around Jack in a circle, arms laid over shoulders. Someone started to sing and everyone joined in.

Stand still Jordan

Stand still Jordan

Stand still Jordan

Lord I can’t stand still





Together they would do the impossible.



* * *



In the coming months Eleanor witnessed Jack grow into the role of conductor with dignity and determination. If before he was a touch vain, thriving on glory, now he moved with an inner strength. If he didn’t laugh as much as he used to, now when he spoke he always meant what he said. The group became his instrument, the place he applied his art. He demanded the best in them, and found ways to challenge them so that the company reached new heights. And when there was praise he refused the credit. Eleanor saw changes in Alma too, and in Alma and Jack as a couple. She saw true devotion. These rivers ran deep.

And there was another thing that was new. Hig had a talk with Della and told her that while he cherished her friendship, his heart was set on another. He asked Eleanor if she wouldn’t mind his company at supper, on walks, during their evenings off. They sat together on the long train rides, and she slept with her head on his shoulder.

Near the end of the tour, as the year 1900 drew toward its end, the Frangipani Orchestra received its official invitation to Trinidad. The journey would include passage and accommodations, eight public concerts, tours of the island, exchanges with native musicians and meetings with schoolchildren and teachers. And even though the Orchestra was not a democratic outfit, as Joop always said, the company voted unanimously to accept the offer. They would return to New York briefly, reunite with their families as they were able, and then sail again—this time to the Caribbean, and a whole new adventure.



* * *



In March of 1901, the company sailed from New York to Florida and then on to Trinidad, landing at Port of Spain. Amid the crowds on the busy pier Eleanor happened to see a notice board with listings of steamboats that took passengers to the islands to the north. There was one the next day to the island of Martinique, where her grandmother was born. Mémé Hetty, to whom she owed her life in music, who came from a place farther away than anything she could have imagined when she was just a baby watching her brother Albert at his lessons.

She knew at once she would go.

The company had several days before their first Trinidadian engagements so it would cause no trouble to take a short side trip.

“I’ll go with you,” Hig said, when she told him.

“No, Hig, I think I’ll go alone,” she said. They were both surprised when she said it. In truth there had been very few times she had made any journey by herself, though each of those had marked a moment of great change in her life.

Hig frowned. Eleanor guessed what he was thinking. “I’ll be safe,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I shouldn’t let you,” he said, but not with anger.

Only twice had she ever seen him angry. When Jack suffered the attack, and later when she confessed to him her secret, about Gerard, the child. He was furious that Professor Batiste had taken advantage of her–that was his view–a defenseless young girl. Both of these things broke his heart, he said, but what made it alright in the end was that both she and Jack lived on and thrived.

“Hell, Nora,” he’d said. They were walking at the time, on a terrace of the basilica in Marseille, one of the last cities on the company’s tour. He took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and then turned toward her. “I’m glad you told me. I don’t want there to be secrets between us.” He held both her hands in his and kissed them. “I want to make my life with you,” he said. “When you say so, we’ll do it.”