I strum a chord. Gently, letting the notes hang in the air like whisky on the palate. We are in the ship’s situation room, the acoustics are better in here.
“What’s the matter at the mill?” I say to Alby.
“What’sss the matter at the mill?” he repeats patiently.
“I got corn to grind. But I cain’t,” I tell him.
“And why iss that?” he asks me, intrigued.
“’Cause the mill’s done broke down.”
“The mill hasss done broke down?” Bafflement suffuses Alby’s every syllable.
I strum another chord, and sing gently:
“I got some corn
And I put in a sack
Johnny went to the mill
But he come right back.
What’s the matter at the mill?”
“That’s when you come in,” I tell Alby.
“What’sss the matter at the mill?”
“ No that’s my line. Your line is: ‘ It’s done broke down.’”
ALBY: “ It’sss done broke down.”
ME: “What’s the matter at the mill?”
ALBY: “It’sss done broke down.”
ME: “Well people are a talking all over town
Telling me that the mill done broke down.
I cain’t get no grinding.
’Cause the mill’s done broke down.”
US: “What’s the matter at the mill?
“It’s done broke down.
“What’s the matter at the mill?
“It’s done broke down.
“Tell me what’s the matter at the mill?”
I feel a haunting pang as our voices merge. Alby’s natural tones have modulated into a rich, evocative bluesy groan. I strum my acoustic guitar loudly, crudely, simply, from the heart.
In Alby’s world, of course, there is no such thing as ground corn. There are no mills. There is only energy and fusion and an eternal flickering flame. But I know that once, just once, in the history of his people, disaster struck. The flame beasts’ native sun was fatally depleted. Their sun broke down. It is their only significant piece of history, their only natural disaster.
I bathe in the light and heat of my best and least likely friend, this mercurial, pedantic, infinitely loyal walking ball of fire. I segue into a wild, angry, sad guitar break, and then Alby chips in with his own bold improvisation:
“What’ssss the matter with the sun?
It’sss done broke down.
What’ssss the matter with the ssssun?
It’sss done broke down.
I can’t get no
Tell me what’sss the matter with the sssun!”