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Gil moved slowly from boy to boy, pausing to brush dust from Timmy’s knees, smooth Fred’s cowlick, and whisper something in Orly’s ear. Amazing how she knew all the boys’ names now when she never had before. The familiarity made her feel more a part of things. She wanted to rush over to them, but she waited, watching, marveling at how tall and handsome and confident Gil appeared. He made it all the way to the last band member—Ralph Ediger, who balanced the bass drum against his belly—and clapped the youth on the shoulder. Then Gil turned, and his gaze met hers.
He smiled and trotted to the sidewalk. She held out her hands, and he gripped them. His palms were clammy. “Ava…” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her temple. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve never been so nervous.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Save your nervousness for the McPherson competition. Today is for fun, to show the town what the boys have learned.”
His face puckered. “That’s exactly why I’m nervous. I don’t know those judges in McPherson. If we mess up in front of them, who cares? We’ll never see them again. But if we fail today, we’ll disappoint so many people. The boys, their parents, the men’s band that gave up its spot as lead in the parade, and—”
She put her fingers on his lips. “Gil, Gil, hush. Don’t you know by now these people love you?” As did she. “Even if theboys run into each other and play more sour notes than sweet, their affection for you won’t change.” Nor would hers. “Relax. Smile. Let the boys see the belief you have in them.” She tipped her head and raised her brows, giving him a teasing smirk. “You do believe in them, don’t you?”
He released a self-deprecating chuckle. “Of course I do. You’re right. All this worry is fornuscht.” He glanced over his shoulder, and his face went pale. “Oh. There’s Mayor Lohrenz. It must be time to start.”
She squeezed his hands. “Then I’ll go.” She backed away, giving him her brightest smile. “I’ll be with Mama and Papa in front of the post office, waving as you go by.”
He lifted his hand in farewell. “I’ll be with the band, not waving at anyone.” He grabbed his raised hand and pulled it against his chest. They both laughed, and she scampered off.
As she reached the corner, the opening notes of the song Gil had taught the boys blared out. She broke into an unladylike run and made it to her parents before the band turned from the side street onto Main Street. The crowd clapped and cheered as the formation of boys, with Gil marching at their side, came up the street.
Ava bounced in beat with the music, peeking over the boys’ bobbing heads and gleaming instruments in the hope of catching Gil’s eye. He never looked left nor right but kept his focus straight ahead, his spine erect, and his feet moving in perfect synchronization with the music. She waited until Ralph’s bass drum passed, then she worked her way through the crowd. The parade would circle the block and end where they’d started. She wanted to be there when Gil arrived.
Suddenly the music came to a discordant stop, and a series of gasps rose from the sidelines. From where she was standing, Ava couldn’t see what had happened. People were craning theirnecks, looking toward the front of the parade. Ava wriggled her way to the street and cupped her hand over her eyes. She added her gasp. One of the boys lay facedown in the dirt, Gil on one knee beside him.
Then Dorcas Baty and Joseph dashed to the boy, and Ava instantly knew who had fallen.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joseph
Joseph sent a glance acrossthe gaping witnesses. No one outwardly laughed, but he saw some smirks. Heard their mutters. “Oh, poor Earl,” someone said with a series oftsk-tsk-tsk, and fury rose in his chest. He’d known this would happen. Joseph grabbed Gil by the upper arm and yanked him to his feet. He pulled Gil close and growled, “You and me need to have a little talk.”
Gil tried to squirm loose. “Not now. I need to see to Earl and my boys.”
Joseph pointed to Ma who was helping Earl sit up. “She’s seeing toherboy.” Then he flung his arm, indicating the parents who were retrieving their sons from the group. “They’re seeing totheirboys. Come on.” He dragged Gil off the street and behind the false-front café. Once out of sight of the crowd, he slammed Gil against the building’s lap siding and jammed his fist up under his cousin’s nose. “Didn’t I tell you Earl couldn’t march? And you made him do it anyway. Put him right in front, where everyone would be sure to see him fall.”
Gil knocked Joseph’s arm aside. “I didn’t make Earl do anything he didn’t want to do. And I put him in the middle front where it would be less likely for him to trip over someone’s heel.”
“Jo, well, he tripped anyway, didn’t he?” Joseph injected as much sarcasm as possible into his snarling comment.
Gil shook his head. “He did not trip. He told me he stepped on something—a rock or something—and twisted his ankle. It could have happened to anyone.”
But it hadn’t happened to anyone. It had happened to Earl. With a growl, Joseph drew back his fist and then plowed it into Gil’s jaw. The impact jarred him, and he stumbled sideways a step. Gil dove at him, and the two of them hit the ground hard. They rolled, and Joseph ended up on top. He sat on Gil’s stomach, used his knees to pin Gil’s shoulders to the ground, and leaned over him.
“You.” Joseph spat the word. “You’re always so perfect. Always obedient. Always cooperative. Always doing everything right.” He slapped Gil on the face, right cheek and then left, as he recited the list of traits as if they were insults. “Did you ever stop to think how it makes everyone else feel? Do you know how hard it is to never measure up to your great and perfect cousin? I had to put up with it, but I won’t let Earl get stuck in your shadow. I’ll—”
Gil arched his back, throwing Joseph off balance. He scrambled to regain his position, but Gil flipped on his side and rolled free. Joseph bounded to his feet at the same time as Gil and raised both fists, circling his cousin like a boxer in a ring.
Gil turned in place, keeping Joseph in his sight and holding his arms wide. “Perfect? Is that how you see me?” He barked a laugh. “Maybe I did try to be perfect when we were boys. I had to be.” He danced left when Joseph danced right. “Parents love their children even when they do wrong. But I wasn’t born into your family. I was forced on all of you when my parents died.” His face contorted. “Don’t you think I knew I was in the way? Onkel Hosea said it when he brought me to Taunte Dorcas—hesaid, ‘We have to take him. He’s my brother’s son. What choice do we have?’ ”
For a moment Joseph glimpsed hurt in Gil’s eyes and sympathy tried to rise. Then he pictured Earl flopping facedown in the dirt in front of the whole town. He sneered, “Jo, we had no choice. But you had a choice. You didn’t have to put those boys in front of everyone. You didn’t have to make Earl—”
“I didn’t make Earl march!” Gil shouted the denial. “I can’t make anyone do anything! If I could, I’d make Taunte Dorcas love me! I’d make the elite of New York applaud my works!”
“And you’d make Ava go to New York with you, too, wouldn’t you?” Joseph hollered even louder than Gil. “Because that’s what this band is all about, isn’t it? Winning favor. Winning the judges’ favor. Winning Ava’s favor. Winning—” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. So he lunged at Gil and slammed both palms against his chest.
Gil fell backward. His hands shot out behind him, and he landed on them. A cry of pain left his throat, and he curled up like a roly-poly bug, cradling his right wrist to his chest.
Joseph put his fists on his hips. “Oh, nä, you’re not going to get out of this fight that easy. Get up. Get up!” When he didn’t move, Joseph reached to jerk him up. But someone grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside.
Pa glowered at Joseph. “What are you doing?”
