sort of what we’re doing today with houses, isn’t it, Daddy?” Val said. “We’re trying to find one that feels right.”
“That’s right, Princess,” Charles replied.
At that moment, the radio announcer started talking about the songs that people might hear during the freedom walk. He mentioned “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” Melody had always liked the title, and now, as the song began to play, she realized that it said what she was feeling inside. At that moment, Melody knew it was exactly what she wanted to sing for Youth Day.
Tish suddenly turned the volume down. “Oh, Charles, look!” she said, pointing to a house that was for sale.
“Mama, that yard is tiny,” Val complained. “We need room for Melody to help me plant lots of flowers!”
“Okay, baby.” Tish said. “We’ll keep that in mind. We want all of us to be happy with our new home.”
“Now, I like the brick houses in this neighborhood,” Charles said, swinging onto a street lined with shade trees.
Both Melody and Val crowded to the same side of the car to peer out the window. The houses were all set back from the street on perfectly green lawns. Melody counted the trees spaced along the sidewalk, and marveled at the flower beds decorating nearly every yard.
“This is really nice,” Tish murmured.
“There’s a ‘For Sale’ sign up the street, Mama!” Val shouted.
“Let’s get out and take a look,” Charles said, cruising to a stop at the curb.
The house was pretty—like something Melody had seen in a magazine. It was two stories tall, a little smaller than her own house, and made of speckled light and dark red brick. There was a big picture window on one side of the green front door. The narrow roof was peaked, as if the house was wearing a pointy hat.
“I’ve been hoping for an upstairs!” Val whispered to Melody. Melody smiled, remembering the fun she and her sisters and brother had sliding down the upstairs banister when her parents weren’t looking.
Charles opened the car door for the girls, and Val squeezed Melody’s hand tightly as they followed the adults along the walk and up the steps. Melody could tell that Val was excited.
“I’ll take down the real estate agent’s name and number from the sign,” Tish said. She whipped out a pen and a small notebook from her purse. “Hmm. There’s an open house tour next Sunday. You think we can make it after church, honey?”
“I don’t see why not,” Charles said.
Melody had hoped that Charles and Tish would change their minds and join the rest of the family at the freedom walk next week, but it didn’t sound as if they would.
All four of them peered into the big front window. The house was empty, and they could see straight through to part of the kitchen.
“It’s got a fireplace,” Tish said, scribbling in her notebook. “I’ve always wanted a fireplace, Charles.”
Val nudged Melody. “Let’s see what the backyard looks like!” she said. The girls raced around the house, but there was a high fence on the side and across the back. All they could see was the top of a skinny tree.
“I had a swing set back in Birmingham,” Val sighed. “Daddy says I can have one here, too.”
Melody was looking up at the house next door. “Hey! Somebody’s looking at us,” she said, stepping back from the fence between the yards. Melody smiled and waved, and Val joined her. The woman in the window did not wave back. Instead, she pulled the curtains closed.
“What was that about?” Val asked as they wandered back to the front yard.
“I don’t know, but it was weird,” Melody said.
Val’s parents were standing at the curb, and Tish was taking pictures with a camera.
“This is what I’m looking for,” Charles said. “A quiet neighborhood where a man can enjoy his home without any troubles.”
“All right, y’all, this one is on my list,” Tish said. “Let’s keep going!” Her high heels clicked on the walk as she headed back to the car.
“It’s on the top of my list,” Charles said. He turned to the girls, who were lagging behind. “What do you think, Val?”
“I like it a lot, Daddy!”
“Melody,” Cousin Charles asked, “is there sufficient flower-planting space for your liking?”
“Yes, sir,” Melody answered. She and Val giggled as they climbed into the car. When Melody looked at the house next door, she saw the blinds in a downstairs window flutter.
Tish flipped the radio on just in time for them to hear a voice singing, “My mama told me, you better shop around!”
“Well, how do you like that!” she said with a laugh. “Even Smokey Robinson is giving us advice!”
Charles drove them around Detroit for another hour, and they saw dozens of other houses for sale. But everyone agreed that they liked the pointy-hat house the most.
“Let’s head on home,” Tish said. “I’ll fix some lunch.”
Charles nodded. “And I’ll call the real estate agent.”
When they arrived at Melody’s grandparents’ house, there was the sound of music coming from the open windows. Inside, Big Momma paused her piano playing to give everyone big hugs. “How was the house hunting?” she asked.
“We saw the nicest place!” Tish opened her purse, took out her notebook, and handed it to Charles.
“I’ll make the call upstairs,” he said. “Do you mind, Big Momma?”
“You go right ahead, honey,” she said.
“Help me out with lunch, Valerie,” Tish said, heading for the kitchen.
Val followed her mother, and Big Momma turned back to the piano. She started playing a tune softly, and that reminded Melody of the song from the car radio.
“Big Momma, could you play ‘Lift Every Voice and Sing’?” Melody asked. She wasn’t surprised when her grandmother stopped the song she had been playing and seamlessly started “Lift Every Voice.” Big Momma didn’t need any sheet music.
“Many people call this the Negro National Anthem,” Big Momma said as she played. “A colored man, James Weldon Johnson, wrote the lyrics as a poem, and his brother wrote the music.”
“What are the lyrics?” Melody asked. She had listened to the song many times, but now she wanted to hear all the words.
Big Momma stopped playing. “I have the music right here,” she said. She stood and opened her piano bench and looked through several sheets of music. Then she handed Melody an old songbook.
“Lift every voice and sing, till earth and heaven ring.” Melody read the first line and imagined being able to sing out, loud and strong, so the whole world could hear.
“Would you play it again, please?” Melody asked.
Big Momma sat down again. Melody propped the book on the piano and then stood close to Big Momma, reading the words silently as she followed the music. When the song ended, Melody felt the most wonderful feeling stirring inside her.
“Just in case you need to know,” Big Momma whispered, “no one has ever sung this at a Youth Day concert before.”
The Walk to Freedom