“Well, it takes just the right pitch, and if your voice is off, it won’t work. But if you really want . . .”
Mamma went to the cabinet and got out one of the leftover glasses from the set she’d had when I was young; yeah, I remembered breaking one of those. Only two left. “That one good enough?” she asked.
Jodi tapped the rim of the glass while everyone was silent. “B-sharp,” I said automatically. She nodded. “In my higher range. But I think I’m loosened up enough . . .”
She put the glass down on the table, took a deep breath, and then opened her mouth wide, letting a single note build upward from a gentle hum to an almost deafening single-toned sound that escaped being a shriek only by sheer purity. As it built, you could hear an answering undertone, as the glass’s resonant frequency was found, building, rebuilding upon itself, a positive feedback loop that caused the crystal to vibrate, blur, and with an abruptness that startled all of us even though we knew what was happening, it virtually exploded in a shimmer of transparent shrapnel.
“HooooEEE!” Grandpa and Mamma said at the same time.
“Wow!” Jonah exclaimed.
Jodi giggled. I grinned. “Luckily you use your powers for good and not evil.”
“What about you, Clint?” Father said, as Mamma and Evangeline set about cleaning up the shattered glass; they wouldn’t let Jodi help, of course, since Mamma had asked her to do the trick in the first place. “Haven’t made a note yet.”
“Aww, I’m too rusty, Father.”
“Fiddlesticks, Clinton!” Mamma retorted, going to the trash bin. “Jonah, you get Clinton his fiddle.”
Jodi looked at me. “That’s right, you mentioned you used to play violin some.”
“Some?” Adam laughed. “You know that song about the Devil? If’n the Devil came to Kentucky, it’d be Clint he’d be after.”
“And he’d whip me good, too,” I said, taking the fiddle from Jonah since Mamma weren’t taking no for an answer. “But what the heck.”
The lights flickered. A moment later I heard the backup generator come online. The family relaxed, but I could see Jodi was surprised by the change; for a moment, she’d seen the family in a completely different way. Every single Slade had stood, poised for action, and both Grandpa Marlon and Father had long iron bars in their hands—taken from concealed locations under their chairs. “Dang it all, Adam!” Grandpa said. “Who’s forgotten to make sure the main generator’s supplied again?”
It had broken the mood, for the time at least. I went to help Adam put more fuel into the generators. “Grandpa forgot that we drew almost twice normal load all day,” Adam grumbled. “Mamma’s been working everyone overtime. Shouldn’t have had to refill until tomorrow.”
” ‘Don’t think ahead, can’t keep ahead,’ ” I quoted at him, checking the oil levels; I noticed that one of the generators was a new model, put in since last year; Father wasn’t taking any chances.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. No excuses, just results.” He tightened the cap down. “Okay, now we’re done.”
We went back inside, where Mamma had gotten Jodi to take her on in chess. I hoped she wasn’t suckered into a bet; the only person who ever beat Mamma was Grandpa Marlon, and I more than half suspected that she let him win sometimes because his pride couldn’t take the constant humiliation of having his daughter-in-law take him to the cleaners every time they played. I’m not that bad, but Mamma could beat me while she was busy watching TV. I studied the board, realizing that I’d actually never played Jodi. They were already past the point where I tended to concede to Mamma; looked like either Jodi was a heck of a lot better than I’d guessed, or Mamma didn’t want to embarrass her by beating her too soon. Seeing the way Mamma was pursing her lips, though, I had to grin. Nope, she wasn’t taking it easy; Jodi was making her work for it.
“Mate in five moves,” I joked; Mamma knew I couldn’t see more than three moves ahead even if I worked at it.