“(Seymour was an opportunistic jerk, or so I thought at the time. Fate had punishment in store for Seymour.)

“Patsy was obviously astonished by this, and jubilant, and we sat through quite a few concerts in the garage, which Lynelle enjoyed more than me. Naturally enough Goblin loved them and danced and danced until he flat-out dissolved.

“As I tell you this, I realize that Lynelle was quite deliberate in this design. She sensed that Patsy was afraid of her and backing off from us—‘You’re a couple of eggheads’—and so she took me out there to Patsy quite cleverly to forge a new link.

“In fact, she pushed the matter further. She took me to see Patsy perform at a county jamboree. It was in Mississippi somewhere, right across the border from where we lived, and part of the county fair. I had never seen my mother on the stage, and people hollering for her and clapping for her, and it opened my eyes.

“With her teased yellow hair and heavy face makeup Patsy looked plastic pretty, and her singing was strong and good. Her songs had a dark bluegrass tone to them, and she herself was playing the banjo, and another guy, whom I didn’t know very well, was sawing away on a rapid, mournful violin. Seymour was a pretty stiff backup with the harmonica and drums.

“That was all very sweet and made a huge impression on me, but when Patsy launched into her next number, a real hard-edged ‘You’ve been mean to me, you bastard!’ type of song, the crowd went nuts. They couldn’t get enough of my little mother, and people were flocking towards the stage from all over the fair. Patsy upped the ante with the next one, her priceless ‘You Poisoned My Well, I’ll Poison Yours.’ I don’t remember much else except thinking she was a hit, and her life wasn’t in vain.

“But I didn’t need Patsy. I’m not sure I’ve ever needed Patsy. Sure Patsy was a hit with the yokels, but I had Beethoven’s Ninth.

“And I had Lynelle. It was when Lynelle and I drove into New Orleans alone together with Goblin that I was most overjoyed.

“I have never known a human being who drove faster than Lynelle, but she seemed to possess an instinct for avoiding policemen, and the one time we were stopped she told a tall story about us rushing to the bedside of a woman in labor, and not only did she not get the ticket, the policeman had to be discouraged from giving us a full escort to the fictitious hospital in town.

“Lynelle was beautiful. There is no more perfect way to say it. She had arrived here at Blackwood Manor to find me a country boy who couldn’t write a sentence and left me some six years later, a dramatically well-educated young man.

“At sixteen I completed all the examinations for high school graduation, and ranked in the top percentile on the college entrance exams as well.