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Suite from "The Reivers" (Arr. for Orchestra by Paul Lavender)
John Williams
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When I was young I lived in a town called Jefferson, Mississippi
That was a long time ago and quite a few people took up the
Land at a dollar an acre and married one another and built
Houses and produced children. We were mostly farmers and mule
Traders and storekeepers. Well, there was some bragging and
Lying but on the whole we were a pleasant and courteous people
Tending to our own business. It seems to me now that those days
Were like an endless summer stored with pleasure in my memory
I suppose it can be said that I parted from my youth
On a Saturday morning in the year 1905 just before
Noon with a temperature close to a hundred degrees
That was the summer that my grandfather, known to all of us as Boss
Had a vision of our nation's vast and boundless future in which the
Basic unit of its economy and prosperity would be a small mass-
Produced cubicle containing four wheels and an engine. So he bought
One. Remember, you cranked it by hand while standing in front
Of it with no more risk than a bone or two in your forearm
It had kerosene lamps for night driving and when rain threatened
Oh, five or six people could readily put up the top in ten or
Fifteen minutes. And since my grandfather could not drive, he
Made my friend Boone Hagenbeck the official custodian and
Operator of the automobile. And when Boone first saw it he found
His soul's lily maid, the virgin's love in his rough and innocent
Heart. It was a yellow Winton Flyer, the first car in town
It was in that same summer that my mother's father died at home
In St. Louis in the same bed in which he'd been born. We did not
Fear death in those days because we believed that your outside
Was just what you lived in and slept in and had no connection with
What you were. But we did take funerals seriously and so my family
Traveled to St. Louis to see the old man ceremoniously laid to
His final rest. I remember Mother waved to me through the window
As the train drew away. They would be gone for four days, four
Days in which my nefarious friend Boone and his devious friend Ned
Would be able to find out to their delight
How far they could go in a stolen car
And still get back before the hour of reckoning
Well I'm sure you've often noticed how
Ignorant people beyond thirty and forty are
When grown people, grown people speak of the innocence of children
They don't really know what they mean
A child is not innocent
There is no crime which a boy of eleven has not envisaged long ago
His only innocence is that he may not yet
Be old enough to desire the fruits of it
The serpent whispered in my ear
I heard him
I decided to go along with Boone and Ned
Aha, we lied
They said we were going fishing
And we were on our way
And the lie had been believed
Which had me spellbound if not appalled
But Boone knew something that I did not
That the rewards of virtue are cold and odorless and tasteless
And not to be compared to the bright and
Exciting pleasures of sin and wrongdoing
Reavers, that's an old-fashioned word from my childhood
In plain English it meant thieves
And so we were three
Three reavers hightailing it for Memphis
Well we crossed the mud at Hell Creek
Bottom and found the high road to Memphis
We could see for miles and traveling that fast and that far
We were not even surprised when the road contained another automobile
We passed each other, commingling our
Dust into one giant cloud like a pillar
A signpost raised and set to cover the
Land with the adumbration of the future
The ant-like to and fro
The incurable down payment itch
The inescapable destiny of America
Well we reached Memphis
And we stayed at Miss Reba's boarding house
I'd never been inside a boarding house before
And this one housed only young ladies
Well remember I was just eleven
The dining room had a pianola in it
And there was a young woman with a handsome face and red hair
With two of the biggest yellowish colored diamonds I had ever seen
In her ears
And there were others too and my friend Boone he knew them all
There was Miss Reba
I remember Miss Corey, Miss Vera
And a whole lot more
Miss Reba said there are house rules she said
A house without rules is not a house she said
It was here that I had my first taste of beer
And I liked it fine
Well that night from my room upstairs
I could hear the sounds of fiddlers
And gamblers and people whooping it up
But it was the next morning after a night full of hijinks
That Boone's friend Ned announced in a swaggery voice
That since Grandfather couldn't even drive
And therefore didn't need an automobile
That he Ned had up and swapped Grandfather's
Car for a horse It was like a dream, a nightmare
It struck Boone and me at the same very moment
We fell over each other getting to the door
The yellow Winton Flyer, Grandfather's pride and joy, was gone
Well Ned pleaded, "Well listen to me
We ain't just got a horse," he said
"The man throwed in a horse race too
All we gotta do is bet the horse against Boss's automobile
Which the man will be glad to bet
Because naturally he wouldn't mind winning his horse back too
So all we gotta do is win the race"
Well, my heart went down to my shoes
All we had now was a horse whose very ownership was dubious
A horse of whose past we knew only that he had
Consistently run just fast enough to finish second
To the other horse to be raced tomorrow
Well I said a prayer under my breath because
I knew that of all the human occupations
The racing of horses and all those concerned
Or involved in the racing of horses
Were most certainly in God's hands
Well, I being eleven, smaller than the other two
I was chosen to ride Lightning
Ah, he was beautiful
He had that long neck for balance
Those laid-back shoulders for speed
And those big hocks for drive and soul
Carried on his back, racing on a smoke-colored shape
It took me completely
My blood, skin, bowels, bones, and memory
I was no longer held fast on earth
I was free, fluid, part of the air and sun
Running my first race, a man-sized race
With people, grown people
More people than I ever could remember at one time before
Watching me win it
And that is when Grandfather suddenly showed up again
Leaning on his cane, I stood at his
Knee and learned the lesson of my life
A man has to take responsibility for his
Actions before he can be called a man
I guess I wasn't one because I fell against his chest and cried
And then we all went home
Lightning in a boxcar
And the rest of us in the yellow Winton Flyer
And as we turned up the street toward home
I thought, "Something's funny
It hasn't even changed"
And if all the things I had seen and done
And heard and learned had changed nothing
If nothing were smaller or larger or older or wiser then
The last four days had been wasted
I could not understand why everything was the same
When I was not the same anymore
For I'd had my moment of glory
That brief fleeting glory which of itself cannot last
But while it does is the best game of all