Purple Melody

By Sandra Porter

As if things couldn't get any stranger... history reveals itself, again, widely grinning with nothing but an array of pearly whites. Entangled by the unknown, paths meet at a junction where mysterious things begin to happen. Camille Jacobs, who is joined by friends, never expected anything more than just spending a holiday in atlanta.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468581171

Sandra Porter

Purple Melody is SANDRA PORTERS third novel of The Brooks Series. She has, also, written Whistling in the Wind and Reflections in My Tea. She is a former resident of Phoenix, Arizona and currently resides in Georgia.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Sandra Porter

All rights reserved.

Published by AuthorHouse 5/18/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8117-1 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-8118-8 (sc)

Cover design by Sandra Porter

To order copies, please contact:

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

www.sanporter.com

Contents

Acknowledgments

SWEETSATION

Chapter 1 NAN MOTHER

BABY GRAND

Chapter 2 CAMILLE

SCALE

Chapter 3 NAN MOTHER

MUSIC

Chapter 4 CAMILLE

BASS

Chapter 5 DEVIN

FIDDLE

Chapter 6 NAN MOTHER

NOTES

Chapter 7 CAMILLE

DRUM ROLL

Chapter 8 DEVIN

PACE

Chapter 9 NAN MOTHER

CHANT

Chapter 10 CAMILLE

PAUSE

Chapter 11 DEVIN

CYMBALS

Chapter 12 NAN MOTHER

SHAKERS

Chapter 13 CAMILLE

GUITAR

Chapter 14 DEVIN

HOW GREAT THE SOUND

Chapter 15 NAN MOTHER

SAXOPHONE

Chapter 16 DEVIN

GLISSANDO!

Chapter 17 DEVIN

PAUSE

Chapter 18 DEVIN

TRUMPET

Chapter 19 CAMILLE

REMIX

Chapter 20 DEVIN

PURPLE MELODY

A Personal Note

About the Author

Dedicated

to all

Saxophonists

and

Musicians

Acknowledgments

I’m at it again, burning the midnight oil. In doing so, not a dull moment has gone by. Being most appreciative, I can’t publish this book without saying thank you to those who I would like to specifically mention for their roles and for being a part of my life, spiritually and naturally.

I can never forget the Lord. Since I have engaged in writing inspirational novels, You have been my guiding light. Thank you.

Many thanks go out to members of my church, locally and nationally. I am grateful for the numerous supporters.

A series of shout outs, also, go out to my family and friends who, each in your own way, have been very supportive. Your focus on this project has been encouraging.

I can’t continue this acknowledgment without extending my thanks to a dear cousin, Jerusha Kelson. Your timely humor that my outdated computer can no longer serve my purpose has, without a doubt, played a significant part toward completion. Your comical advice still hits a funny bone when I need a laugh or two.

And to Gail Kelson, how can I ever forget such a humble friend? I’ve never forgotten our sister-to-sister chat years ago. More than you know, you were an inspiration.

Once again, I wish to extend my appreciation to Windy Goodloe as editor. Pushing to stay on target was important, and I cannot say thank you enough for your expertise and for the long hours you have committed to this project until its completion.

Thanks to each author and reviewer of my book.

And last, but not least, I would like to thank all my readers, everywhere, for your support and for your interest in reading my third novel of this series – Purple Melody.

Enjoy the journey!

Purple

Melody

…let the beat begin…

SWEETSATION

Whose melodies are they?

They are born to bleed,

spoken keynotes,

opened wings.

Flurries of notes

accumulate like sand,

immense tunes of footprints,

swinging in the consciousness.

Sweetsations of joy

are unforgettable delights,

a deploy,

filtering in beams of light,

on reflections where they lay,

amazingly and strikingly displayed

in an array.

…sweetsations exhale sweet melodies.

Chapter 1

NAN MOTHER

No matter how many times I hear her voice, it just sounds sweeter than the day before. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Jo-Jo. Her voice resonated the footprints of her life, which had compressed themselves deeply into my mind. I believed she had been born to bleed in anyone’s memory. I could just listen on and on for eternity, if I could.

As she exhaled her lyrics, I inhaled her and the splendid things of nature. The music flowing from the stereo inside my home seemed to marinate the earth. It awakened the trees, causing them to react to the joyful sounds. Deeply rooted in the Georgia soil, their enormous size appeared to sway in rhythm, silently whispering their approval.

The rest of the well-established, Southern neighborhood was quiet. It was as though a shroud covered their presence and population. Everything else was so still as I gazed at the colors of nature. They had blended together and created one fascinating piece of art. The music sealed it all with the glaze of its serenity. Absorbing the arrays and etchings were like inhaling a sweet-smelling scent.

The space on the front porch had been saturated with pleasantries as my rocking chair rocked back and forth with me in it. It seemed to be just as happy. I reckoned old Liza had to keep them joints moving, just like I did.

Even though I was retired, I was still getting around, but just at a slower pace. And that was all right, because my mind was still healthy and sharp. Not bad for an almond-skin lady with long gray hair as my crown. Always have had the mark of ambition, and it still surged, every now and again, to the forefront of my spunky brown eyes. After all these years, the mark continued to run through my veins, but I, at times, had ignored the urge to exercise that side of my personality. Now, I enjoyed my leisure time and was content to mosey along for the rest of life’s journey. I’m getting younger, I said out loud and chuckled. Then, at the perfect moment, I was ready to chime in with that angelic voice as she continued to sing, "…you will see eyes…of the melody…"

The music kept playing, but my attention was, immediately, drawn elsewhere when, out of nowhere, a truck came to a commanding halt. Then, it rolled up in the driveway and parked.

My chair Liza and I stopped rocking to the music. I didn’t need glasses to see those large letters displayed across the side of the vehicle. They were just as colorful as the radiant roses and flowers that were spread across my yard.

It’s Fed-Ex, I mumbled. Puzzled, I stared at the colorful truck. I wonder what blew them my way this time. It must be good…

I stood up and continued to look at the truck curiously because I wasn’t expecting any deliveries. Something about the interruption had electrified the moment. On second thought, I had a feeling I would need my glasses after all to sign for whatever he had. I opened the glass door and walked through the entryway. I knew exactly where I had lain my glasses last, so I picked them up from off the table. Then, I went back outdoors to greet whoever had stolen my attention.

After several seconds, a young man, in a spiffy uniform, walked up the walkway. He carried a tube package in his hand, which made me even more curious.

Never seen him before, I thought, but he reminded me of my best friend Mr. J. They both had a mocha pigment to their skin. He was, also, smooth and satiny with thick eyebrows and chestnut brown eyes. He seemed to be the same height as Mr. J and was well built. They had similarities that just could not be ignored.

Those kinds of friends were hard to come by. I knew I would have those memories forever in the jewel box of my own heart.

Good morning, ma’am, the courier smiled.

I stepped forward, smiled, and cordially returned the greeting as I said, Good morning, young man. Something for me? Full of curiosity and wonder, I thought, What could this possibly be, and who could it be from?

This is for Dr. Johnston. He read the name on the label, checking for verification.

Yes, that would be me. I said. Then, I signed for it.

Afterwards, he handed the odd-shaped package to me, Here you are, ma’am. He paused a moment. Then, he said, Sounds like Jo-Jo coming from inside.

I gazed up at him, surprised, and answered, Yes, it is.

Looking at the way his eyes danced as he listened to her, it certainly was obvious that the music greeted his ears with pleasure. It amazed me that those words had come from this stranger, who I would never have thought would have been interested in this world of music, but how could anyone not? It was a soulful classic.

You listen to her music, too? I had to ask.

He didn’t hesitate to say, Yes, ma’am. She’s one of my favorites. I like the oldies. As a matter-of-fact, I rate her number one.

With approval, I nodded and smiled again. And…so do I.

She’s one of those icons that linger in your sleep, he added.

I slightly laughed at his comment. I know what you mean, dear.

Wish I could listen to more, but I must be on my way. You have a wonderful day, Dr. Johnston, he nodded with respect, revealing a dimple on one of his cheeks. It highlighted the youthfulness of his features and character.

I glanced up at him as he turned to leave and, while still holding the mystery in my hand, said, Thank you. I will. You have a wonderful day, too.

Still smiling, I opened the glass door and walked inside to, once again, capture every word of that dynamic and beautiful voice coming from the stereo. Just when I thought I would be able to analyze what I held in my hands, I heard a horn blowing.

I put the triangular tube down in a corner in another room. I knew the package would have to wait until later. As I passed the stereo, I turned it off. I walked back to the front entrance. When I looked out, I saw my darlings getting out of the car. I opened the door and stood on the patio. I was so glad to see them.

They both rushed in my direction. Their smiles glowed like a perfect sunshine-filled day. Their mother Marcella opened her car door, too, and got out.

Hello, Nan Mother, she yelled from the car.

Hello, dear, I responded.

I’ll see you later today.

I waved, All right, Marcella.

Time had flown by so quickly. Their planned visit had increased my anticipation long before the day had opened its eyes to welcome humanity.

I took a few steps and, with welcoming arms, greeted my charming teenage great-grandchildren. Here are my two special ones.

Buenos días, Nan Mother, said Josie, dressed in a turquoise two-piece skirt and top that reminded me of a Native American costume. Her Nestle Quik complexion blended perfectly with her charming accessories and her dark-brown hair that spiraled to her shoulders in waves.

Good morning to you, too. I looked into her happy brown eyes. She and Jay were nearly the same complexion, but his eyes were lighter.

Nan Mother, Jay exclaimed as he hugged me.

I exchanged the same greeting. Then, I said, Oooooh. I could barely laugh. You have a tight bear hug on Nan Mother this morning!

If my back ever needed an alignment, I certainly would have known who to call. When it came to Jay, there was no escape. His hugs were among the strongest bear grips I’d ever encountered.

Josie saved me by saying, Jay! Let Nan Mother go! She was amused, watching him clown. He’d always had a playful spirit.

When he did let go, he pretended to catch me in case I lost my balance. He would not have had any problems with that. He was 5’11" tall and had a thick build and broad shoulders. At sixteen, he was a healthy teenager who maintained his weight well. He was a lovely youngster, who was growing into a fine, young man who was doing very well academically.

And Josie wasn’t lacking any ingredients for becoming a remarkable young lady herself. For the past year, she had been mistaken to be older than her age. And I could understand why. Her maturity level was on a faster rise than most her age. Plus, her appearance and physique revealed that of a young lady. She was bright, smart, and did exceptionally well in school. Their parents had always inspired and encouraged them since they were very young. And I was their back-up support and enforcer, enlightening them to be all that they could be.

Another voice filtered into the spirit of our laughter. Jay, the energized youngster shouted and waved as he ran across the lawn. How you doing, man?

Jay grinned, staring at the tall fella. Fine, cub!

Ladies, he smiled at Josie and me, then dropped his football. And, in a flash, the twelve-year-old tackled Jay as if the Super Bowl depended on his defense. I saw that! he cackled. Overnight, he had sprung up and was, now, almost just as tall as Jay. Looked to be about 5’10" tall. He had fair skin with light-brown eyes and thick eyebrows. An undeveloped mustache could be seen, trying to yield from waaaay back behind his baby face.

You saw…what? Jay asked as he gasped for eternal breath.

What were you doing to Nan Mother?

We laughed, but the two opponents laughed even harder as they scuffled. Jay’s morning had started off with a bang. He hadn’t been there for more than three minutes before being ambushed. He had always enjoyed the spirit that came from that boy. The old saying was that everyone had a twin, but I thought, There couldn’t possibly be another De somewhere on this planet. He could tickle anybody’s dry bones.

Well, I said, I hear Jo-Jo calling.

They immediately stopped. From their reaction, they had already lost the championship.

You do? asked Jay.

The young boy appeared to be confused, too. I don’t hear a thing, Nan Mother.

Josie, I said, looking at her, chuckling, and gesturing for her to go inside the house, light up that stereo again for me and show them what Jo-Jo can do.

They grinned widely since they knew what was coming next.

Josie walked inside to play another one of her songs.

I sat down in the rocking chair, again, and rocked to the music.

Right where the youngsters were on the nicely cut green lawn, they sang background along with Jo-Jo as Josie came back outdoors to join us.

I stopped rocking and watched their demonstration.

They stared at Josie, and she knew what that meant. If she hadn’t, they would have drafted her anyway. And she wasn’t properly dressed to be tackled.

At first, hesitation would not let her move, but, I guessed, when she realized that there would be two against one, she probably had second thoughts. She joined them and blended in.

Impressed, I thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle. Didn’t know the young fellas had it in them. I couldn’t believe my receptors. Not only were they moving in unison, but they were harmonizing, too. Had they been practicing this skit? I wondered. The two boys were stepping like soldiers. Josie’s talent, on the other hand, came as no surprise. She imitated Jo-Jo perfectly—gracefully but meaningfully.

I couldn’t help but stand-up as a tear rolled down the side of my face. Mesmerized, I moved slowly to the edge of the steps. Those youngsters were full of life, giving all they had. Not long ago, they were so playful. Now, they were very serious, but, at the same time, were able to enjoy their time together. It was a good thing the sun wasn’t blistering because they would’ve been drenched. Standing under the shade, I enjoyed every minute.

For a moment, I reminisced, visualizing Jo-Jo as she emerged. Her pinned-up hair crowned her olive face. I could see her eyes, now, set on some horizon in her distant thought, somewhere serene. A statue of a beautiful queen. The melodies in her life belonged to her…spoken keynotes. They were opened wings, soaring in flight, flying deep down in her soul. So many flurries to remember that, over time, had accumulated like sand. They were immense, often swinging in my consciousness. Sweetsations of joy were revisited, the sweetest voice during that era.

My thoughts vanished when I heard a clash of voices and laughter. It was my neighbors, the Collingsworths. Not sure how much they had seen. From their reaction, they were amused to see such a performance coming from these youngsters right here on my land.

I walked out onto the walkway.

They waved. Good morning, Dr. Johnston, they said in unison from a distance but, not far enough away that, as a lovely couple, they did not penetrate through the picturesque scenery. Both were tall. She was slender, and he was average weight and clean-cut. His charm seeped and blended through the buttermilk of his face. She was…a complete joy.

Shifting my focus to return the greeting, I raised one arm to wave back and said, Good morning to you both. I have been entertained graciously by your son and my great-grandchildren today. My eyes fell on them again. I had been drawn by their energy.

I see, Nancy, his wife, stated.

Her husband,