Foolish Jona by Edna Worthley Underwood

JAN NERUDA

Foolish Jona was as if made for the amusement of unrestrained youth. He / was about eighteen years old but he looked like a thirteen year old / child. When he came back from the huckster or the merchant where his / mother was in the habit of sending him on errands, the boys ran after / him and teased him:

"Jona! Foolish Jona! " they called. He kept on his way slowly, just as if / he saw and heard nothing putting forth all his strength to control / himself, and breathing heavily. Sometimes he was so frightened that he / trembled, and his thin legs were scarcely able to uphold his weak body. / When they barred his way and began to threaten him, he turned upon them / his expressionless, white, moon-face, that looked as if it were embossed / in wax, and a timid questioning peered out of his eyes. For a moment he / stood dumb and motionless, as if death were stretching hands toward / him, and then sought to escape one way or another.

"Jona! Jon-a-a! " they called after him in the street boy jargon, as soon / as they saw him begin to tremble. He never tried to defend himself. As / soon as he reached home he gave over his purchases and then sat down in / a corner by the oven.

"Come here, dear little brother! Take your stool and sit by me," coaxed / his sister, who was only a year older. She was a pretty, slender, yellow / haired girl, and she put her sewing aside at once.

He dragged the stool slowly along to her feet. She took the poor / confused head to her breast. He sobbed as if his heart would break. She / petted and caressed him, restraining her own tears with difficulty.

"I'm not foolish, am I? " he at length managed to say. His weak voice / trembled.

"Of course you are not! You have sense, little brother. Let them talk!"

"And you like me, don't you -- and I am not foolish!"

And over the face of the idiot there spread something that resembled a / smile.

"Now get your violin -- and play something!"

"I don't want to hear any more of that noise of his now! He can play at / night all he wants to -- up on the roof," grumbled his mother. Jona sat / where he was and kept looking up at his sister. He watched her slightest / movement.

The mother and the brothers did not love him. He had only his sister, / and to her he clung with all the emotion of his weak mind. But in the / neighborhood it was said that he was inspired by the Holy Ghost. No one / taught him to play upon the violin. And no one could imitate him. He had / never had a teacher and he played only his own pieces. And they were / strange and sad and foolish, like himself.

Jona lived in the same house where I lived as a child. He knew me. / Whenever he met me he nodded his head and smiled. I can truthfully say, / that although I was a child myself, too, I never injured or annoyed him. / There was some thing about his wax-like face that was sacred for me. My / childish imagination saw in it a resemblance to the dead, waxen faces / which I had seen under glass behind the altars in the churches.

It was Saturday evening. The late summer twilight veiled everything in a / mystical veil. The sky was blue and at the same time dark, and here and / there trembled silver stars like the thoughts of the saints, and between / swam the great, yellow moon in all its splendor, throwing light upon / lowly huts, and proud, towering churches.

The unusual activity which is common in homes on Saturday night, had / gradually become quiet. The women, who had been so busy earlier and had / been talking loudly on the wooden balconies, the stairs, and in the / court yard, had gone to bed. Only on one balcony of the third story, a / girl and a young man were engaged in conversation. They were betrothed, / and the next day they were to be married. Pretty Mitzerl, Jona's sister, / was to be the bride, and a diligent young workman in the factory, the / groom. He had just been offered a more lucrative position in the country / and because of this, the wedding was to be hastened.

They had sat here some time. While people were still up and about, / indoors, they talked in whispers, as if they feared the outside world. / But now that there was silence everywhere, their conversation could be / heard, as if they wished the calm and splendid night to bear witness to / their happiness, their pledge, their plans.

There was one person in their neighborhood who was speaking his feelings / just as plainly as they, but it did not disturb them. But the emotions / which he expressed were not so happy, so confident, and care free. / Foolish Jona was playing his strange, fantastic music on the roof. / People said that this speech of music could not have come from his own / head, which was confused and dim. When his white fingers swept the / vibrating strings, now loudly, now softly, when his bow described mighty / and majestic tones, the listening people said that it was the Holy Ghost / that spoke.

The conversation of the lovers accompanied without any interruption the / sad violin song upon the roof. They were too much interested in each / other, and too much accustomed to his music, to pay attention to it. / Jona himself did not see them because he was playing upon the roof above / their heads.

The house in which we were living was old fashioned. It had a saddle / roof which, toward the street and court, had two projections. In fine / weather Jona took his violin and hid himself in the depression between / the roofs. He was sitting concealed there when the young man came to see / his sister, and he was playing madly as if he would never weary. In fact / his improvisations were nothing short of works of art.