silently and stared off into the distance, mining unspoken thoughts.
âSo,â he asked, hoping to lighten her mood. âTell me about Drew.â He knew she wanted to discuss the changes she saw and sensed in him, but as always she was content to let it be, and he loved her all the more for that, because to tell her would plunge her into the darkness as well.
A fter Noah left her to go up to his room, Alanza remained out on the patio alone and pondered her youngest son. Why heâd changed so much from who heâd once been was a question sheâd been wrestling with for ten years now. She guessed it had to do with his being shanghaied, because the day he finally returned home thereâd been a bleakness in his once bright eyes. Although heâd talked about the prison camp and some of the terrible things that transpired there, she sensed heâd held back on a lot of the more troubling details, and as far as she knew, he hadnât shared the full truth with Drew or Logan either. Gone was the boy with the ready laugh and open heart; in fact he rarely smiled. Of all her sons, heâd been the most sensitive and the most loving but now seemed to move through his visits home like a ghost. Mothers knew when their children were in pain and he wore his like a shroud. She so wanted to help him deal with whatever was at the heart of it, but he was a grown man and she didnât want to lose him completely by pressuring him to reveal whatever was wrong. Would she ever know the truth? She didnât know but would continue to pray that heâd find healing and peace in whatever form God saw fit to send him, because this new version of her son was breaking her heart.
Later, upstairs in his bedroom, Noah glanced around at the familiar surroundings and again the carefree young boy heâd once been took pleasure in what he viewed: his beloved books, the desk whereâd he done his lessons, his well-used easel still standing by the door that led out to his verandah, and in his adjoining sitting room, the Brahms Streicher piano his mother ordered for him all the way from Vienna. He walked over to it and visually lingered over its gleaming wood and ivory keys. It was an 1868 model and with its carved lacelike music stand and artfully shaped legs, it remained as beautiful as the day it arrived. He hadnât played since his last visit home because it was impractical to have such an instrument on a ship. He tapped out a few random notes, observing that it was still in tune and knew instinctively that his mother had engaged someone to come out and see to the tuning in advance of his arrival. Although both his brothers loved books, neither of them were musically inclined or enjoyed putting brush to canvas. Those passions had been reserved for him alone, it seemed, and he derived great pleasure from both endeavors. The young Noah had dreams of being a music teacher or a concert pianist, like his musical idol Beethoven, butâhe turned his mind away from those long lost aspirations. Instead, he sat on the bench, flexed his fingers and began to play, first Beethoven and then Brahms before sliding seamlessly into Bach. Soon he moved into hymns, sea shanties, and tunes from operas and bawdy houses. He lost himself so completely in the intricacies of the notes and melodies that when he glanced over at the clock it showed two hours had passed. Allowing himself a small smile, he played a few minutes longer, then got up to prepare himself for dinner.
When his brothers arrived, they greeted him warmly. Heâd met Mariah before but not Drewâs wife, Billie, so introductions were made. He also met his niece and nephew and the sight of their chubby little faces touched his heart, and again a part of himself envied the couplesâ happiness. After that, they took their seats at the table. As always, their mother reigned at the head while a contented Max sat at the other end.
They were eating when Logan