Devil's Music

The two eyes of the audience began to fill up as they spoke for a while. When the audience was about a third full, Carlos raised his head to Norma and said in a gentle tone as he watched President Herald Winston come into the audience with applause from already occupied audiences.

“Did you see that public service ad Kay took in Nepal? ”

Norman nods, looking behind President Herald Winston, and looks at Carlos in surprise.

“I was frankly worried when I saw that the U.S. government was number one in the ad auction. Maybe he's trying to use Kay for politics. And I was even more surprised to see nothing like that. that they were going to spend that money on advertising. ”

“That's right. Either way. Maybe you just came up with a favor from the beginning, or maybe you changed your mind after you met Kay. ”

“I'll bet on the latter. because the United States is not so green. ”

“Haha, the former and the latter all dodged because the result is good. ”

“Haha, thank God. Oh, the auditorium is full already. It's five minutes before the show. ”

As Carlos lay down deep on the couch with his excited eyes, Norman pulls out his notebook and pen. Carlos takes off his back and asks,

“Why did you take out your notebook? ”

Norman clicks his pen, smiling as if interrogated.

“Haha, it's a habit. It's a habit of writing down touching points and scenes that you want to remember. ”

Carlos leans back onto the couch and puts his chiseled hand on his stomach.

“Hah. What a life for a music critic. that you don't feel the emotion that music gives you, that you have to analyze and write something down. ”

“Haha, right. I just wanted to enjoy it, but I regretted not doing this last Bronx performance after a while. because I couldn't think of a word to express my emotions in writing again. ”

“I see. I see. Do as you please, haha. Ah! Here we go. ”

A slowly opening curtain appears in Norman's eyes, turning his head onstage. As the audience in the beginning clapped, Carlos also clapped with a smile. Unlike most performances, there were no screaming or whistling audiences because it was an opera, and only clapping filled the opera house.

The stage with the curtains fully open was a rural view of the 1920s. It was a set with only a barren rice field and a single house that was built, and it was only a humble enough house to know that it was a house. As if it were a very poor farmer's house, the paint had been peeled off and the roof had been pierced. In front of the house was a small rice paddy, and behind the stage was a round mirror that caught my attention.

As the applause diminished and the audience gradually began to concentrate with silence, the shadow of the woman's side illuminated behind the curtain of the round mirror behind the stage. The audience focused on the female silhouette, but soon the attention turned to a middle-aged black man coming out of the door of a collapsing house. Just as the student actor was dressed up, a slightly awkward middle-aged man began to play a rice paddy with a plow by the door of the house.

“Heave-ho! Heave-ho! ”

The man who was working the field for a long time wiped the sweat off his forehead with his hands and sighed at the sky. The dim moon he was looking at was now a very early dawn. He raises his plow again, plowing the fields and singing in a helpless voice.

The dreams and kisses of dawn fade away.

The only thing that remains is the rippling desert, the weight of life.

Sit on me with that big ass.

In a whirlwind of miserable history.

A loving endeavor and passion to make life better.

It always consumes me as a greater despair.

When the man came to work with desperate lyrics, the woman behind the tent said as if she was singing with a deep but mysterious voice.

“I was the daughter of my father who survived the reign of red terror in 1918 when he ate America and returned from World War I, and in 1927 the Mississippi was very cold and hungry. ”

Suddenly, the man smashes the plow into the ground. As everyone's gaze focused on the man, the man with the furious face began to sing a violent song.

I went to war and fought for my country!

I went to war and fought for my family!

And where will my place be in my home country?

Have you seen the horrors of war? Against the war.

Why does it matter?

Why am I under duress and imprisonment and without a job?

Should we get kicked out of the country?

I've done nothing but make sacrifices for my country!

Carlos, watching the stage, whispers in Norman's ear.

“I don't know what you're talking about because I don't know American history. I think he's been to war, but if you know why he's not looking for a job after his return, please tell me. ”

Norman nods slightly and says, without taking his eyes off the stage.

“In 1918, the United States suppressed and restrained people under the premise that war protesters and demolition molecules were trying to interfere with war efforts during World War I. It's called the Red Fear. They were mostly soldiers and doormen who had already been in the war, but they couldn't find jobs because they were mostly anti-war workers after their return, so they went down to the countryside and became peasants farming in their rice paddies. It's probably about Leontin Price's father. ”

Carlos nodded roughly when he realized that what he was asking was an obstacle to Norman's focus and then focused back on the stage. When a black woman appeared onstage, the man hugging the woman smiled despite difficulty, and worked tirelessly in a desperate situation. After repeated countless repetitions of the sun rising through the device backstage, the woman suddenly had a little newborn baby in her arms. The man smiled happily, seeing the newborn child what was so pleasant, and the sun rose again and again. When the woman came back into the house, she held the hand of a 10-year-old boy.

The boy ran around the rice paddy, smiling as if he didn't know anything, and the couple smiled happily. During the sunrise and recurrence, the man continued to work, but the woman went in and out of the house. Every time she went in and out of the house, she changed her clothes a little, but gradually she changed into something better and better.

The tent behind the stage, showing the flow of time, was lit again, and I recited the lines as if the shadow of a woman who could only see the side was singing.

“When I was born in 1927, my father, my mother and my brother were happy, and by 1929, America had given my father plenty of life and leisure. The day I was born, my father told all the gods of the world that he had blessed me with every word he knew. But two years later, we had to face the crisis again. ”

The stage lights out and the moon rises. When the faint light illuminated the stage, the audience could see a black girl sitting alone eating boiled potatoes on a small rock behind a paddle in front of the house. The child pushing the potato crumbs into his mouth like a waste of the life buried around his mouth opened his mouth.

My hands and feet are freezing and my flesh is dying.

Instead of picking happy flowers in the mountains,

Wild Baskets of Flower, Dog Rock and Kiss

One more potato to to fill my hunger.

Carlos takes his back off the seat and opens his eyes as the boy with the beautiful voice sings.

“Oh, no! What a child's voice! ”

You shake your head as if you were not Norman.

“He's not calling. The kid is gawking, and the real song is going to be Leontin Price behind that tent. ”

Carlos leans on the couch and smiles fabulously as he calms his surprised heart.

“Julius, everyone seems like such a genius that there's so much genius in his feet, haha.“

The fire goes out again and you hear the beautiful voice of Leontine Price on the stage.

“So at that age, the song came to me. I didn't know where it came from. I don't know if they're from a cold winter dawn or from the frozen Mississippi River or when or how or how. ”

A moment of silence echoes through her voice.

“No, it wasn't a voice, it wasn't a voice, it wasn't silence, and one day on the street, someone called me. in the barren branches of the Mississippi mountain, in the churches that followed my mother, suddenly in the midst of others, in the fiery fires that ended with farming and burning straw. ”

When the fire started back onstage, I could see a 10-year-old black girl crouching in the eyes, carrying a hoe alone in the mountain and digging into her mouth something elongated. The girl with all the dirt in her mouth was putting something she had dug out of the ground into an ox, pushing it into her mouth whenever something like the root of a plant came out while working. A girl who was working for a long time sat on the floor, looking at the sun in the sky and singing helplessly.

I want warm, steaming bread.

No butter, no strawberry jam. It's just a piece of bread.

With my dad working till dawn every single day.

I want you to sew for me and my brother.

I'm fine. I'll eat their laughs instead of bread.

The elderly, who were presumed to have experienced similar times in the audience, took out a towel and began to wipe their eyes with tears. Maybe it's because they think about the terrible times they've been through. Carlos did not live at the same time, but was born as the son of a poor Mexican farmer, so he felt a similar emotion and focused on the stage shaking his eyes.

When the poor girl looks up at the sky, the voice behind the tent again announces the monologue.

“By 1929, when I was two years old, A gradually improved family situation collapsed with the Great Depression in the United States on October 29. He put my family on a train and moved to a factory town in Detroit. Luckily, he was able to get a job, but he couldn't make enough money to feed his family for a month because there were so many workers looking for a job. I climbed the back mountains countless times and dug up the roots of wild grass. And that day, I met music. ”

While working, a beautiful man dressed in white came to the back of the girl who was squatting. As soon as the man appeared, a murmur spread in the audience that was concentrating quietly. People say small, but the opera house is noisy as so many people make noise.

Cayda.

“Kay, right? ”

“It looks really beautiful. It's like an angel.”

As the murmurs of the people gradually subsided, I opened my mouth to look down at the girl who was working for a while.

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