Jessop watched the coach teams trot of in the rain away from the churchyard. His parents, brother, uncle and aunt and cousin were in them but his mother had insisted he stay behind until they sent the coaches back for the Fairchild sisters. The youngest had left with his parents, fitting in on his mother's lap.

The remaining six would have to wait; however, until they returned unless they wanted to get soaked in the rain. A few members of the congregation took their chances and road off in the wagons and open buckboards and as the last left Jessop turned and went back inside the house of worship.

"You ought to tell my mother that a little rain won't make you melt," he said as he walked the aisle.

"We don't mind waiting," Selene said. "Besides, it is very kind of your mother to take our health into consideration."

Jessop flopped down on the bench before the organ. "I suppose all mothers fret. I reckon that's what comes with being a mother."

"My mother worried just the same," Astrid said from the pews. "I miss her."

"Well we'll be able to see her again very soon," Selene said.

Astrid stood and walked into the aisle. "Mr. St. Cloud will you play a song for us please?"

Jessop looked at the girl in wonder. He racked his brain for the exact moment he had told any of them he played. "Let me guess, Jethro?"

"Oh but he sounded so proud of you!" Astrid said.

Jessop turned and looked at the organ. His baby grand sat dusty and unused in his music room along with all of his other instruments. He had long lost his love to play but on this rainy Sunday he felt the organ calling him like an old friend.

Astrid sat down next to him on the bench. "If you play, I'll sing."

Jessop felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, but he repressed it. He turned to a random page in the hymn book. "Do you know that one?" he asked and Astrid nodded. He studied the keys for moment then positioned his hands. The chords to I Love to Tell the Story escaped from the instrument with the voice of Astrid alone at first before she was joined by Jessop.

None of the other sisters said a word as the words filled the room to capacity before spinning into the wet outdoors. They played and sang song after song and no one noticed the time go by. When they finished O Dem Golden Slippers Jessop shook his head.

"You know just about every hymnal in the book!" he said.

"I like to sing," Astrid said. "I used to sing all the time back home."

"Astrid was adored by the entire congregation," Taitiann said from behind them.

Astrid ran her fingers over the keys. "Do you think you could teach me how to play a piano, Mr. St. Cloud?"

"Well this here is an organ, Rabbit and I hardly play anymore myself."

"Maybe you should start again," Heloise said from the pews. "You do seem happy when you play. It's like when I'm writing a poem or a song."

Astrid nodded her head with enthusiasm. "Will you teach me? I promise to be a good student."

Jessop was about to make an excuse when he heard the coach wheels splashing in the mud. "We'll we had better be off then," he said getting up and putting on his raincoat. He closed up after the sisters and waited until each was in the coach before mounting his own horse and riding alongside it.

"You ought to not have asked him," Miriam said. "He's very busy and none of us have time for pleasures."

"Mama would be proud that Astrid learns an instrument," Selene said. "She used to wish all of us could play and sing. Well she only got one singer so why not one who plays. If Mr. St. Cloud had said yes I may have been tempted to learn myself."

"What would you learn?" Alifair asked her.

"I've always liked the fiddle," Selene said. "What about you?"

"The harp," Alifair said. "The harp is such a noble instrument." She moved her fingers in the air like she was playing one. The coach suddenly hit a pot hole, nearly throwing her from her seat. The sisters all laughed as Alifair readjusted herself. "Mr. St. Cloud really should have left without us," she said looking out the window at the gray horse trotting alongside the coach. "We're hardly worth getting so wet for."

"I don't think he'll melt," Miriam said and the sisters burst out laughing louder than the thundering air.

/

Jessop passed up the baby grand in the room downstairs. In times past he was the one who played it but it had less appeal to him than the one he kept upstairs in his rooms. He entered the library where the seven sisters where dancing to a symphony on the gramophone with books on their heads. Their lighthearted laughter mingled with the bright rays of the sun that streamed in through the window of the south garden.

Not wanting to disturb them or draw attention to himself he waited until Astrid was looking his way then he signaled her out of the room.

"Yes, sir?" she said still smiling.

"I want to show you something," Jessop said pulling a blindfold out of his pocket. "Close your eyes."

"But how can I see if I close my eyes?" Astrid asked. Jessop told her to just do it so she did and then he tied the blind fold around her eyes. Taking her by the wrist he led her upstairs step by step then down the hall to his personal room. He pushed open the door and the light from the tall window burst into the hall. Despite having just opened them for the first time in years that morning he felt as if seven times had passed over since he'd last seen it.

He took Astrid's hand again and led her into the room. When she was at the center he untied the blindfold and she opened her eyes.

Astrid's mouth opened slowly as she looked around at all the instruments. Each was perfectly in its place. There were strings and woodwinds and brass; everything from a drum to a piano which sat in the direct center of the room. "Who do these belong to?"

"They are mine," Jessop said running his finger through the dust on a cello. "It used to be my passion." He watched Astrid go from instrument to instrument with admiration. "So, Rabbit where shall we begin?"

Astrid's face lit up like the sun. She turned around and walked over to the emerald piano. It was mounted with golden harps along the side and swans with their wings extended toward the instrument. Astrid ran her hand over it and smiled.

"The piano it is then," Jessop said taking a seat on the bench. "We'll start by teaching you how to read music first and you must also learn each key." He played a small number with one hand. "After that we'll pick a piece and practice it until you know it. Once you know it forward and backwards you'll be able to add a star to your sky."

Astrid frowned. "A star to my sky?" She looked toward the window as he placed a note book before her.

"You'll draw a star here for each sonata you learn..." When she still looked like she didn't understand he got up from the bench. "I'll show you." He huffed and knelt down on the floor. "Come on."

Astrid walked around the piano as Jessop lied out on his back beneath it. "Sir?"

"Take a look," he said patting the space next to him.

Astrid crawled beneath the instrument and turned over on her back. Painted beneath it was an indigo sky decorated with golden stars. "Did you do all of this?"

"My cousin did some," Jessop said as the memories turned through his head. "We used to play in here for hours. Mostly because I made him. Ira was too fussy to be a captive audience. Once I learned something in full we'd paint stars here. That was the part Jethro loved most."

"That's a lot of songs," Astrid said. "Do remember what they are?"

"Sure," Jessop said. "This one here is Fleur De Lis. And that one is Four Seasons, the one in the corner there is Requiem and the one above your head is Idumea. It's sung."

"Won't you sing it for me sir?" Astrid asked. "Please." She added when she saw a hard 'no' forming on his lips.

Jessop stared at the star. It seemed to be asking to be called from memory so that it might join the celestial bodies of real heaven. He started off low a bit ashamed that it took this girl to reconnect him with something he held so passionately for years. Then he began to sing louder. In his head he could hear the other instruments, which no more than adorned the room now, rise from their places and play alone to the tune of Idumea.

Astrid let herself be captivated by the painted night heaven. She could hear the choir of the stars singing and chanting along until the whole room filled with the sound. As Jessop finished singing Idumea the phantasmal orchestra and choir called out for more and Astrid began singing Amazing Grace. When she had finished she looked at Jessop who was staring up at the stars. "Sir, shall we start the piano now? Sir?

Jessop snapped out if his daze, nearly striking his head on the underside of the piano. He got up from the floor and returned to the bench where Astrid joined him with her notebook.

/

Franklin Calico sat up in his bed rubbing his neck. He hadn't slept good since being on the road. Both his wife and daughter cautioned him about working too hard, but he was determined to hold together Old Town which was falling apart. Mrs. Callaway had long left and wouldn't be missed, but other families had given up too after the river flooded.

"What is it, Frank?" His wife asked from beside him.

"I keep having bad dreams about Ezra Fairchild," Franklin said. "None of this sits right with me."

"Well you know he's innocent." His wife said. "Perhaps that's why it bothers you so much" "It's just all a shame," Franklin said. "We've lived in peace in this town for years. It's a shame to see it all go now."

Mrs. Calico sighed. "We lived in peace on the outside, Frank but even behind the doors of the house of God we were segregated. There was peace here so long as everyone kept their place. Sure, we may call each other friends, but even true enemies can do that."

"I considered Ezra Fairchild my friend," Franklin said. "I still do and I'm concerned about his children." He sighed. "I don't know, honey. Maybe it's time we moved away from this town too. Maybe—"

"Shhh!" His wife interrupted him. "Do you hear that? Listen. It sounds like voices."

Franklin listened. "Sounds like...yelling." He got out of bed and went over the window.

"What is it? Frank?"

"Looks like something is on fire."

"Homes?"

"Hard to tell."

Mrs. Calico got out of bed and joined her husband at the window. "Oh Frank! That's coming from the Taylors' home on Church Street!"

"A fire that big must be more than one house," Franklin said.

Mrs. Calico covered her mouth and put her hand over her heart as the screams of her neighbors filled the night. "Looks like the flames go all the way to Main Street. We must do something"

Franklin put his arms around her and tried to guide her away from the window but she refused. "Surely something wicked has befallen this town."

A knock on the front door made them both jump. Franklin Calico recalled that stormy night many nights ago when a distressed Fairchild girl had turned up at their doorstep from the darkness. He threw on his housecoat and taking his pistol from the side table drawer he made his way downstairs. He kept the pistol in his pocket but his hand on it. There was no telling what would be behind the door when he opened it this time. When he peeked out the curtain and saw a familiar face he called for his wife then opened the door.

Drusilla Dupree practically fell into his arms. The young woman was sobbing without control in her bloodstained pink nightgown. She was soon followed by her little brother who ran in and threw his arms around his sister.

As Mrs. Calico came rushing down the stairs, Marta Taylor entered the house screaming. The young woman's white flesh was blackened with soot and she fell to the floor in hysterics. Since Drusilla seemed to be more in her mind Mrs. Calico questioned her. "What happened, is that your blood?"

"No!" Drusilla wept. "They broke into our house and lit it on fire. My papa tried to stand up to them and they shot him. This is his blood. I ran with my brother after papa was shot and I met Miss Marta on the way.

"I have to go back!" Marta started screaming. "Mama and Papa and Granny where still in the house!" She tried to run but Mr. Calico grabbed her. "Mama! Papa!" she screamed and thrashed. Her blue eyes were filled with confusion behind the mask of soot as she struggled to get free.

"Mr. Calico, Old Town is burning up. All over people are running from the fire. They mean to kill anyone who resists them," Drusilla said. "That's why they done gone and shot my papa." As she bent over in agony Mr. Trout from next door came running up the steps.

"Frank, the General store is on fire!" He shouted then paused when he noticed the others in the room. "There's a bunch of men threatening to shoot everyone in town if you don't leave. Already they shot at a few men and women."

"Frank," Mrs. Calico shook her head. "What's happening?"

Franklin drew a deep breath to stay calm. "It's our turn," he said and his neighbors looked at him in confusion. "When it happened to the Fairchilds... none of us thought it would happen to us...well now it has."

"You're not going to face them, are you, Frank?" Mrs. Calico asked. "You don't know how many there is."

"We will not face them," Franklin said. "Benjamin, I advise you get your wife fit to travel."

"You mean, we are to just leave everything we own?" Mr. Trout shook his head. "My daddy broke the ground for that house down the road; this is our land, Frank!"

"None of us stood up for the Fairchilds when they were turned out of their home," Franklin said. "They were our neighbors, our friends, we picnicked with them, worshipped with them, we let them watch our children but we stood by and let them be thrown out of the only home they'd known." He looked around the house that his grandfather had built with his own two hands then he stepped out into the smoke choked night and watched the town burn. He was soon joined by Mr. Trout as gunshots and wailing echoed in the distance. "We must gather our neighbors and we must go."

"Never thought I'd see such a day," Trout scoffed. "The church burned down." He added as he started down the steps. "Mrs. Miles says the balcony fell in and crushed the floor. Seen it with her own eyes she says. Now if that don't make us all equal I don't know what does." He shook his head somberly. "I'll see you on the road, Frank."

Franklin watched his neighbor walk off into the night choked with the smell of burnt moss. He could hear Marta wailing for her parents and his wife trying to calm her, he could hear the roar of the distant flames and panicked cries of his neighbors as they watched their world burn. It was like watching the Jacksonville fire of 1901 all over again. The town was certainly haunted. Haunted with the shame of letting a bad thing happen to good people.

Dear Miriam Fairchild

Misfortune smiles on our sleepy town. I can't help but think that you have been blessed not to see what has become of us. I must keep this letter brief as it is late in the night and I fear the candle glow will disturb our neighbors. I wish to continue to help you with your father but I don't know right now how I shall do it. I have a lot of faith that you girls will come out of this stronger than most of us. I mentioned before that a few families have left old town, the Johnsons being one you are more familiar with. I haven't heard anything new about them since they turned to picking and I shan't burden you with my own woes. Our prayers are with you and we ask that yours be with us. The next time it is that I see you, may it be in our old town.

F. Calico, your neighbor.