"Dammit, Louie!" Joe grabbed his viola and jerked it out of the way as Louie tumbled on down into the truckbed. Sarah, Jake and Willie, on the other side of the truck, sat and glared at him.

Aunt Cathy had missed Louie's wave-the truck had passed behind a thin screen of black locust. As it rolled back into clear view, she absently noted the two feet waving in the air as she strained to see who had come to join her in music this summer night. She was always glad for the chance to sing and play a little music. But lately, she was thinking it was time to start talking, to pass on more than just the music. She wondered if tonight would be when she would start. It would mean something to have these people listen, and she really hoped her grand-niece and grandson were on that truck.