the last book I ever read (James: A Novel by Percival Everett, excerpt four)

from James: A Novel by Percival Everett:

Young George had an instrument in his lap. A carved wood neck attached to a gourd with some strings. “Is that a banjo?” I asked.

“I made it,” Young George said. “But I dare not play it here. Ain’t nobody around, but sound travels, you know? Especially music. People can hear music miles away and then they try to find it.”

“Especially music,” Old George agreed.

“Especially music,” Josiah repeated.