“They wanted ‘em to play the music.All the time.They’d hook ‘em up to them machines with wires, scarin’ ‘em and then tell ‘em to play.They’d play stupid stuff on the record player or the radio or somethin’.I tried to tell ‘em that’s not how the kids learned the music.They needed to see it, feel it for themselves.Adults never listen to kids,” she frowned, shaking her head.
“I can promise you this, Sutton, we are all listening to you and to the others.We want to help you and we want to help the children learn about their gifts.”
Sutton stared at them and nodded, then turned to the other boy.
“I been thinkin’,” she said walking closer to the boy.“I heard ‘em once talkin’ about a boy that could see music play in his head like a movie.Called it somethin’ special but I don’t remember what it was.He was new to the hospital and we were already thinkin’ how we could get out.”
“Did they have a name for him?” asked Luke.
“They called him Wig.”
CHAPTER TEN
“When historians and musicologists discuss the saddest prodigies, the discussion usually turns to Mozart,” said Erica.
“I’ve found another,” said Ace.“And it’s not one I’ve ever heard of.Thomas "Blind Tom" Wiggins born in 1849, died in 1908.This is horrible and heartbreaking.Thomas was often called ‘the last slave’, and you’ll understand why.
“He was born blind and is believed to have been an autistic savant.Remember no one really knew about autism then or understood the odd behaviors of children who had it.Tom possessed the astonishing ability to hear a piece of music once and flawlessly play it back note-for-note.
“He was exploited from the moment someone heard him play.He was born enslaved in Georgia but the poor kid was treated as a circus-like attraction and leased out by his enslaver.”
“Are you fucking with me, Ace?I’ve never heard of this,” said Cam.
“I promise, this is not something I would fuck around about.He became the highest-grossing act of the 19th century—earning his owners the equivalent of tens of millions of dollars.
“Following the Emancipation Proclamation, Wiggins was not set free. Instead, he became the center of bitter legal battles, like a custody battle and everyone wanted a piece of him.”
“That poor man,” said Jane shaking her head.Ace nodded.
“He was placed under the conservatorship of his former enslaver's family, remaining a ward of others until his death.He was forced to perform grueling schedules of up to four shows a day, dying virtually forgotten.No one remembers this man’s name or what he endured.
“Yet, here we are, a hundred years later, finding people doing the same thing to kids.Torturing them for their brains!” he yelled slamming his hand on the table.
“Brother, maybe you step back and we’ll let AJ handle this one,” said Luke.Ace’s own start to his life was somewhat similar.Surely autistic, brilliantly intelligent, barely able to stand the touch of another human until he’d met his wife.
“No,” he said shaking his head.“No, I’m okay.I’m sorry for my outburst.It’s just, I’ve been where these kids are.Not understanding the torture.Not understanding why I was different and then finding my gift thanks to Ghost and the others. These kids have found their gifts but have they been asked if they want them?”
Luke looked at Ace, then turned to the others in the room.
“You’re right.We haven’t asked one of those children if they actually want to play the instruments or if they think we’re forcing them to play them.”
“Where are they all?” asked Erica.
“In the cafeteria, having lunch and playing with Uncle Alec and Uncle Tailor.”
“That should be entertaining,” smirked Jane.“Let’s take our friend with us.”
“What do we call him?” asked Luke.Jane tapped Keith on the shoulder and signed to him.
“Can you please ask him what name he would like to be called?” she signed.Keith smiled at her, nodding.
“My friends would like to know if you have a name that you like, one you want to be your very own?”The boy signed back and Keith tilted his head back, laughing at his response.“You’re sure?”
“What did he say?” asked Luke.“I couldn’t understand.”
“When he was stealing food for the children in the basement, the ones he thought would wake up, he saw a big sign for a man who plays music and he had a smile on his face.”
“How did he know how to pronounce the name or read it?” asked Jane.
