It always felt like evening sing-alongs and drinking booze would be common evening activities in Sanctuary so I was looking for the right song. I found this one in a book from the thirties and declared it perfect- even though it isn't actually, the real tune is slower than I thought it would be so you'll have to imagine they sing a livelier version in Sanctuary.
Begin Recording
Granny's Old Armchair
Recording by Scribe Ellison
One of the charms of the town of Sanctuary that we don't have in the Citadel is that in the evenings people really do sit around the fire and sing. These days the houses are wired for electricity and have heat, but there is something attractive to the heart about the settlement's central fire, apart from the meat often cooking over it which is of course attractive to the stomach. So any settlers who feel like being social at the end of the day gather here in the evening. There are discussions, stories told or read from books, and singing.
The favorite song is called Granny's Old Armchair and must be from before the war because some of the words are quite strange.
Tonight I ask the General, "Where did the song come from? Is it about Mama Murphy?"
The General shakes her head and chuckles. "Sturges knew it. He doesn't know where he learned it, but he started singing it one day and everyone picked it up. I think because of Mama Murphy and because it mentions lawyers and everybody knows that was my job."
Someone starts the song again, with the accompaniment of a drum and the homemade guitar, "My grandmother she, at the age of eighty-three, one day took sick and died! And after she was dead, the will of course was read, by a lawyer as we all stood side by side..." The tune breaks off for fiddling with the guitar.
"Did you read wills?" I ask.
"I did. I helped people write wills too. People had a lot more stuff before the war, and a lot more money. Everything worked differently. It doesn't matter now… the song doesn't make much sense these days but it's fun to bellow out. I don't think any of us are going to be joining Magnolia on stage anytime soon."
From across the fire comes, "Except me!"
"...Except Shiloh, who will be a club singer at night after jumping out of vertibirds all day." her mother finishes, smiling.
"Should I tell her there's no stage at the Citadel?"
Shiloh hollers out the chorus in a piping voice, "How they tittered how they chaffed, how my brothers and my sisters laughed, when they heard the lawyer declare, Granny's left you her old armchair!" Brother and sister scribes, I don't think Shiloh Mason has much future in music.
Em has that faraway look that means she's remembering something. "The last live music I heard before everything ended was at some army thing, they flew in some rising stars from out west to brighten spirits on the homefront and I got a ticket since Nate was overseas. I remember one singer… Vera Keyes. Voice like smoke and whiskey and everything bad for you. Didn't think I'd hear anything like that again, but Magnolia has moments when she sounds just the same. ...don't know why the other scribes would care, but that's a prewar story for them. I miss prewar music, but this is nice too."
It is nice. The guitar is back on, such as it is… I'm being unkind. The combined intellect of all the field scribes hasn't been able to make a proper guitar either. "When you settle down in life, find a girl to be your wife, you'll find it very handy I declare! On cold and frosty nights when the fire burns bright, you can sit in your old armchair!"
That's Mama Murphy, sitting by the fire in a very distinctive green armchair. I wonder if it has thousands of 'pounds' hidden inside like in the song. I assume pounds is another word for prewar money, since two thousand pounds of anything wouldn't fit inside a chair. Mama Murphy often reads books aloud for whoever cares to listen, and her main job is to keep an eye on the youngest children. Now, she's knitting.
The General sees me looking. "That chair, it was a project. When we first got here I asked Mama Murphy if there was anything she wanted, besides chems. She said she'd love a really comfy chair like she had in Quincy so she could sit comfy after a long day. So Sturges and I built her one, to her exacting specifications. I hauled pillows back for stuffing and we traded with the Abernathys for the green velvet and Marci gave us grief for every hour we weren't doing more important projects. But Mama Murphy was so happy. Happier than I ever saw her, until Doc Jenna told her, 'it's possible to take chems safely, with precautions.' It's not really about the chems, for Mama Murphy. She uses the sight to help people. I'm not totally convinced it's real but she is and she's convinced she's helping people."
Brother and sister scribes, when I return to the capital I believe I will suggest campfires and singing should take the place of research for the occasional evening.
"Oh the old girl and me were as happy as can be, for when my work was over I declare, I never abroad would roam but each night skated home, and was seated in my old armchair!"