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would perform there again and would ask Orphelia to join her. And maybe by then Momma would have had a change of heart.
    Momma walked like somebody had slid a beanpole down her back. Poppa followed quietly behind.
    Pearl pulled at Orphelia’s elbow. They had hardly spoken to each other all day. “What’d you think of the Hannibal Twins? I wasn’t impressed.” She sucked her tooth noisily to show her disapproval. “They do the same song every time. But didn’t you just love Madame Meritta’s dress! Probably somebody from St. Louis made it just for her. I wish that she had sung something. She is prettier than what she looks like on the posters.”
    Orphelia, however, didn’t answer. With a quick look at her, Pearl hurried up to Momma. “I think I’ll be a seamstress and make fancy dresses for folks,” she said. “Momma, maybe we could go to St. Louis and see the fashions at the fair, and then Orphelia could play and—”
    â€œBe quiet!” Momma snapped. Pearl shut up. Momma turned around and faced Orphelia. “You are not going to be in that woman’s show ever, and that’s final. We are not going to the World’s Fair because I’ve heard that we colored will not be treated right there. And St. Louis is much too large and dangerous a city for proper people like us to visit.”
    â€œThose are some mighty big pronouncements you just made there, Otisteen,” said Poppa. “I wouldn’t mind going to St. Louis someday, to tell you the truth. But what I’m most concerned about is you saying that Orphelia—”
    â€œAre we going to argue about this in the road?” Momma folded her arms. “Thelton, the girl is not going to parade herself in a minstrel show.”
    â€œBut, Momma, Madame Meritta’s shows aren’t like those—”
    â€œDon’t you dare dispute me!”
    â€œOtisteen, listen. You’ve let this thing build up inside so till it’s ruling you. Orphelia—”
    â€œBe quiet, Thelton.” Momma gripped Orphelia by the shoulders. “I said no! And if you keep disputing me, I’ll not even allow you to be church pianist-in-training, and you will never play any kind of piano again! So get this foolishness out of your head. I don’t care what this Madame Meritta says. I don’t care what Miz Rutherford says! And I don’t even care what you say, Thelton Bruce!”
    Poppa firmly pulled Momma’s hands from Orphelia’s shoulders. He held Momma’s hands in his, but Momma snatched them away. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll let me be,” Momma said, so low that Orphelia could barely hear her.
    Poppa sighed. “The day is apt to come when we’ll be sorry we didn’t let her follow her dream,” he said in an undertone. “Orphelia, there’ll be another time, I promise you,” he said louder now, “but not this time. Now, everybody, let’s go home.”
    Orphelia stood in the dusty road. Tears rolled down her face. Pearl took her hand and pulled on it. Orphelia followed her sister home.
    Later she lay in bed, watching the light from the kerosene lamp flicker on the wall. She wiggled her fingers under the covers, playing the “Lewis County Rag.” Momma had never screamed at her like she had tonight. Had she gone crazy?
    The last few weeks had been full of Momma’s criticisms. The more Orphelia progressed with her music and her act for the talent show, the angrier Momma had seemed to get with her. Would she really make her stop playing for the church? That would be the cruelest cut of all. If Orphelia couldn’t even play for the church, then her life was truly over.
    Madame Meritta had said she wanted Orphelia in her show anytime. She had also said Orphelia was blessed with a musical gift. Poppa said that now wasn’t the right time. But when would the right time be? Never,