SONNY'S BLUES
341
I frowned. I'd never played the role of the older brother quite
so seriously before, had scarcely ever, in fact,
asked
Sonny a damn
thing. I sensed myself in the presence of something I didn't really
know how to handle, didn't understand. So I made my frown a
little
deeper as I asked: "What kind of musician do you want to be?"
He grinned. "How many kinds do you think there are?"
"Be
serious,"
I said.
He laughed, throwing his head back, and then looked at me. "I
am
serious."
"Well, then, for Christ's sake, stop kidding around and an!!wer
a serious question. I mean, do you want to be a concert pianist, you
want to play classical music and all that, or-or what?" Long before
I finished he was laughing again. "For Christ's
sake,
Sonny!"
He sobered, but with difficulty. "I'm sorry. But you sound so-–
scared!"
and he was off again.
"Well, you may think it's funny now, baby, but it's not going
to be so funny when you have to make your living at it, let me tell
you
that."
I was furious because I knew he was laughing at me and
I didn't know why.
"No," he said, very sober now, and afraid, perhaps, that he'd
hurt me, "I don't want to be a classical pianist. That isn't what inter–
ests me. I mean"-he paused, looking hard at me, as though
his
eyes would help me to understand, and then gestured helplessly, as
though perhaps his hand would help--"I mean, I'll have a lot of
studying to do, and I'll have to study
everything,
but, 1 mean, I
want to play
with-jazz
musicians." He stopped. "I want to play
jazz," he said.
Well, the word had never before sounded as heavy, as real, as it
sounded that afternoon in Sonny's mouth. 1 just looked at him and
I was probably frowning a real frown by this time. 1 simply
couldn't see why on earth he'd want to spend his time hanging
around night clubs, clowning around on band-stands, while people
pushed each other around a dance floor. It seemed-beneath him,
somehow. 1 had never thought about it before, had never been
forced to, but I suppose 1 had always put jazz musicians in a class
with what Daddy called "good-time people."
"Are you
serious?"
"Hell,
yes,
I'm serious."
