Three Days Before the Shooting ... (50 page)

BOOK: Three Days Before the Shooting ...
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What terrible luck! What a sad kind of duck! Daddy strutted with some barbecue and the hot sauce on the bread was red and good—good—good. Yes, but in Austin they chillied the beans
.
“Mother,” she said
.
“But weren’t the greens nice in Birmingham,” Sister Lacey said
.
And she said “mother” and I came up out of the box and he said “Let there be light”—but he didn’t really mean it. And she said “cud” and that should have been worth the revival. But he wouldn’t tell
.
Oh, Maggie, Jiggs and Aunt Jemima! Jadda-dadda—jing-jing! I miss those times sometimes…
.
This game of politics is fraught with fraud, Ferd said—And a kiyi yippi and a happy nappy! So Pappy now praise the Lord, and pass the biscuits! Oh, yes, the A.G. said, Give ole Razorback Bill a guitar and the room to holler nigger and he’ll forget about trying to pass for an intellectual…. A slow train through East Razorback on a Captain Billy’s Whizbang more pious than the Pharisees…. Hell, it was easy, easy. I was working as the old gentlemen’s chauffeur and he caught me in bed with his madam. He was amazed but calm. Who are you, anyway, he said. And I thought fast and said, I’m a nigger; so you can forget it, it don’t count. I’m outside the game. What? he said. Yes, I said, I am—or at least I was raised for one. So what are you going to do about it? And he said, Do? Hell, first I’m going to think about it. And then I’ll decide. Was she satisfied? I don’t know, I said, but I’ve had no complaints. Well, he said, taking that into consideration you might as well continue until she does. I’m a busy man and no old fool. Meanwhile I’ll think about making you a politician. That should teach you to obey the Commandment…. So because she was years younger than the old gentleman I made a classical entry into the house. Bull-rushed the bully raggers…. Yes, but you just wait, he said. The spades’ll learn to play the game and use their power and the old war will be ended…
.
Oh, no! We’ll legislate the hell against them. Sure, they must learn to play the game but power is as power does. Let’s not forget what the hell this is all about. They’ll have to come in as I did—through the living gate and sometimes it’s bloody. But they ought to know from back in seventy-four
.
Mister Movie-man … she said
.
God is love, I said, but art’s the possibility of forms, and shadows are the source of identity. And Donelson said, You tell ‘em, buddy, while I go take a physic…
.
Hold the scene, don’t fade, don’t fade…. Seven’s the number, Senator, I said. Fiscal
problems come up seven, remember? Even for Joseph…. So she said, “mother” and I said
me and she said cud was worth all that pain. But he still wouldn’t tell
.
Back away from me! Cat … cat … what’s the rest?
I simply refused, that was all. Chicken in a casket was a no good-a union like-a da cloak. Too dark in there. Chick in this town, chick in that town and in the country. Always having to break out of that pink-lined shell
.
No, not afraid after a while, but still against it. I was pretty little—little though not pretty, understand? Saw first snow in Kansas. The wind blows cold, but I can’t tuck it
.
Look, I have to climb out of here immediately, or the wires will flash Cudworth moos for Ma—a hell of a note from now on. And on the other side there’s the dark. Daddy? Hic, hic, what day?
To hell with it, I’ve stood up too long to lie down
.
Lawd, Lawd, why?
Inevitable? Well, I suppose so. So focus in the scene. There, there. The right Honorable Daddy—where?
Karp! Karp, pan with the action—See! See! He’s riding right out from under his old Cordoba. But watch him, Stack wore a magic hat—Listen for a bulldog!
Beliss?
No! What do you know about that? I can’t hear him bark…
Bliss be-eeee thee ti-ee that binds…
For an instant the Senator was aware of being lifted up and then he heard a voice speaking to him out of blackness. Straining to hear through the clamor of voices sounding in his head, he felt himself entering a region of blacks and grays which seemed now to revolve slowly around him like a cloud of smoke. And yet he felt in the presence of an unyielding center of darkness which seemed to speak to him words that were weighted with meanings he dreaded to grasp.
It hurts here, shadowless
, his mind went on.
If only the throbbing would stop…
.
Who-what-why—Lord? Why, why, the smithereening heart…
Then from far away someone was calling to him, “Senator, do you hear? Senator?”
And yes, the Senator did; very clearly now. Yes…. But when he tried to answer he seemed to fall into a dream, to recall to himself a dream….
It was a bright day and he said, Come on out here, Bliss. I’ve got something to show you. And I went with him through the garden past the apple trees and on beneath the grape arbor to the barn. The bees were around us and yellow butterflies. And there it was, sitting outside the barn on two sawhorses.
Look at that, he said.
It was some kind of long narrow box. I didn’t like it.
I said, What is it?
It’s for the services, Bliss. For the revivals. Remember me and Deacon Wilhite talking about it?
No, sir.
Sure, you remember. It’s for you to come up out of. You’re going to be resurrected so that the sinners can find life everlasting. Bliss, a preacher is a man who carries God’s load; and that’s the whole earth, Bliss boy. The whole earth and all the people thereupon. And he smiled.
Oh, I said, I remember. But before it hadn’t meant too much. Since then Juney had died and I had seen one. Juney’s was pine, painted black, and without scrolls; this one was fancy, covered with white cloth. I felt cold. He held his belly in his hands, thumbs stuck in trousers top, his great shoes creaking as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
So how you like it? he said.
He was examining the lid, swinging it up and down with his hand. I couldn’t see how it was put together. It seemed to be all white cloth bleeding into pink and pink into white again.
I said, Is it for
me?
Sho, didn’t I just tell you? We get it all worked out the way we want it, and then, sinners, watch out!
I could feel my fingers turn cold at the tips. But why is it so big? I said. I’m not that tall. In fact, I’m pretty little for my age.
Yeah, but this one has got to last, Bliss. Can’t be always buying you one of these like I do when you scuff out your shoes or bust out the seat of your britches….
But my feet won’t touch the end, I said. I hadn’t looked all the way inside.
Yeah, but in a few years or two they will. By time your voice starts to change your feet will be pushing out one end and your head out the other. I don’t want even to have to think about another one before then.
But couldn’t you get a smaller one?
That’s
just
what we don’t want, Bliss. If it’s too
small
they won’t notice it, or think of it as applying to themselves; if it’s too big they’ll laugh when they see you come rising up.
No, Bliss, it’s got to be
this
size. They have to see it and feel it for what it is, not take it for a toy like one of those little tin wagons or autos. Down there in Mexico one time I saw them selling these here in the form of sugar candy along with skulls and skeletons made out of sugar candy, but ain’t no use trying to sugarcoat it. No, sir, Bliss. They’ve got to see it and know that what they’re seeing is where they’ve all got to end up. Bliss, that thing sitting on these saw hosses there is
everybody’s
last clean shirt, as the old song goes; and they’ve got to realize that when that sickle starts to cut its swath it don’t play no favorites.
Everybody
goes when
that
wagon comes, Bliss. Babies and grandmaws too, ‘cause there simply ain’t no exceptions. Death
is
like Justice is
supposed
to be. So you see, Bliss, it’s got to be of a certain size…. Hop in there and let’s see how it fits….
Lord, Lord, Why Hast…
Then he was being lifted up and struggling, trying desperately to make himself heard:
No, please, please, Daddy Hickman. PLEASE!
Oh, it’s just for a little while, Bliss. You won’t be in the dark for long, and you’ll be wearing your white dress suit with the satin lapels and the long
pants with the satin stripes down the sides. You’ll like that, won’t you, Bliss? Sure you will. In that pretty suit? Of course!
Now you see, you breathe through this here tube we done fixed here in the lid. See? It comes through right here, only the opening is hidden by this scroll. You hear what I’m saying, Bliss? All right, pay attention. Look here at this tube! All you have to do is lay there and breathe through it. Just breathe in and out like you always do, only through the tube. And when you hear me say, “Suffer the little children …” you push it up inside the lid, so’s they can’t see it when me and Deacon Wilhite open up the lid.
But then I won’t have air.
Don’t worry about that, Bliss; there’ll be air enough left inside and Deacon Wilhite will open it right away.
But I’m scaird. In all that darkness and all that silk cloth around my mouth and eyes….
Silk, he said, Silk? He looked down at me steadily. What else you want it lined with, Bliss? Cotton? Would you feel any better about it if it was something most folks have to work all their lives for and wear every day, weekdays and Sunday too? Something that most folks never get away from? You don’t want that, do you?
I shook my head, shamed. Oh, the tyranny of King Cotton….
And it won’t be but a few minutes, Bliss. You can even take your teddy with you—no, I guess you better take your toy Easter bunny. With your Easter bunny you won’t be afraid, will you? Course not. And like I tell you, it will last no longer than it takes the big boys to march you down the aisle—I’ll have you some good strong, big fellows, big ones, so you don’t have to worry about them dropping you.
Now, Bliss, you’ll hear the music and the boys will march in and set it down right in front of the pulpit. Then I’ll say, “Suffer the little children,” and you sit up, see? I say do you see, Bliss?
Yessuh.
Say
Sir
.
Sir
.
Good. Don’t talk like I talk, Bliss; talk like I
say
talk. And use your ears. Words are your business, boy! not just
the
Word. Words are everything and don’t you forget it, ever.
Yes, sir.
Now, when you rise up you come up slow—don’t go bolting up like a jack-in-the-box, understand? Because you don’t want to scair the living daylights out of everybody. You just want to come up slow and easy. And be sure you don’t mess up your hair. I want that part to be still in it, neat. So don’t forget when we close you in. And don’t be chewing on no gum or sucking on no wine balls! You hear me? Hear me now, boy!
Yes, sir, I said. I was watching it. I couldn’t turn my eyes away.
Can you hear me?
Hear
, the Senator thought,
Here it must have been a forty-five, no thirty-thirties in here…. It hearts here, four cross. Here and hear and there and air. Light-throbs…. Chandelier…. How high the night? How far? Far …
It all depends on the size of the church, Bliss. You listening to what I’m saying?
Yes, sir.
Well, when you hear me say, “Suffer the little children,” you sit up slow, and like I tell you, things are going to get as quiet as the grave. Yes, and I better have the ladies get us some flowers. Roses would be good. Red ones. Nobody in this town would have any lilies. Least not anyone
we
know. So now, we’ll have it sitting near the pulpit so when you rise up you’ll be facing forward and every living soul will see you. It’ll be something, Bliss. It’ll be astounding!
Yes, sir.
So now I don’t want you to open your eyes right off. Yes, and you better have your Bible in your hands—and leave that rabbit down in there.
Yes, sir.
So what are you suppose to say when you rise up?
I ask the Lord how come he has forsaken me.
That’s right, that’s correct, Bliss. You ask him,
Why hath Thou forsaken me?
But say it with the true feeling, hear? And in good English. That’s right, Bliss, in Good Book English. I guess it’s about time I started reading you some Shakespeare and some Emerson. Yeah, it’s just about time…. Who’s Emerson? Why, he was a preacher, Bliss, and a philosopher too. He knew that every tub has to sit on its own bottom—which is a fact that a lot of folks would like to forget. He wrote a lot of good stuff. Poetry and all. Have you remembered the rest of the sermon I taught you?
BOOK: Three Days Before the Shooting ...
6.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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