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第15章

高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain-第15章

小说: 高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain 字数: 每页3500字

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t to testify: Once I was blind and now I see。
  And then they sang: ‘Walk in the light; the beautiful light。 Shine all around me by day andby night; Jesus; the light of the world。’ And they sang: ‘Oh; Lord; Lord; I want to be ready; I wantto be ready。 I want to be ready to walk in Jerusalem just like John。’
  To walk in Jerusalem just like John。 To…night; his mind was awash with visions: nothingremained。 He was ill with doubt and searching。 He longed for a light that would teach him; foreverand forever; and beyond all question; the way to go; for a power that would bind him; forever andforever; and beyond all crying; to the love of God。 Or else he wished to stand up now; and leavethis tabernacle and never see these people any more。 Fury and anguish filled him; unbearable;unanswerable; his mind was stretched to breaking。 For it was time that filled his mind; time thatwas violent with the mysterious love of God。 And his mind could not contain the terrible stretch oftime that united twelve men fishing by the shores of Galilee; and black men weeping on theirknees to…night; and he; a witness。
  My soul is a witness for my Lord。 There was an awful silence at the bottom of John’s mind;a dreadful weight; a dreadful speculation。 And not even a speculation; but a deep; deep turning; asof something huge; black; shapeless; for ages dead on the ocean floor; that now felt its restdisturbed by a faint; far wind; which bid it: ‘Arise。’ And this weight began to move at the bottomof John’s mind; in a silence like the silence of the void before creation; and he began to feel aterror he had never felt before。
   And he looked around the church; at the people praying there。 Praying Mother Washingtonhad not e in until all the saints were on their knees; and now she stood; the terrible; old; black ;above his Aunt Florence; helping her to pray。 Her granddaughter; Ella Mae; had e in with her;wearing a mangy fur jacket over her everyday clothes。 She knelt heavily in a corner near the piano;under the sign that spoke of the wage of sin; and now and again she moaned。 Elisha had not lookedup when she came in; and he prayed in silence: sweat stood on his brow。 Sister McCandless andSister Price cried out every now and again: ‘Yes; Lord!’ or: ‘Bless your name; Jesus!’ And hisfather prayed; his head lifted up and his voice going on like a distant mountain stream。
  But his Aunt Florence was silent; he wondered if she slept。 He had never seen her prayingin a church before。 He knew that different people prayed in different ways: has his aunt alwaysprayed in such a silence? His mother; too; was silent; but he had seen her pray before; and hersilence made him feel that she was weeping。 And why did she weep? And why did they e here;night after night; calling out to a God who cared nothing for them—if; above this flaking ceiling;there was any God at all? Then he remembered that the fool has said in his heart; There is no God—and he dropped his eyes; seeing that over his Aunt Florence’s head Praying Mother Washingtonwas looking at him。
  Frank sang the blues; and he drunk too much。 His skin was the color of caramel candy。 Perhaps forthis reason she always thought of him as having candy in his mouth; candy staining the edges ofhis straight; cruel teeth。 For a while he wore a tiny mustache; but she made him shave it off; for itmade him look; she thought; like a half…breed gigolo。 In details such as this he was always veryeasy—he would always put on a clean shirt; or get his hair cut; or e with her to Uplift meetingswhere they heard speeches by prominent Negroes about the future and duties of the Negro race。
  And this had given her; in the beginning of their marriage; the impression that she controlled him。
  This impression had been entirely and disastrously false。
  When he had left her; more than twenty years before; and after more than ten years ofmarriage; she had felt for that moment only an exhausted exasperation and a vast relief。 He had notbeen home for two days and three nights; and when he did return they quarreled with more thantheir usual bitterness。 All of the rage she had accumulated during their marriage was told him inthat evening as they stood in their small kitchen。 He was still wearing overalls; and he had notshaved; and his face was muddy with sweat and dirt。 He had said nothing for a long while; andthen he had said: ‘All right; baby。 I guess you don’t never want to see me no more; not a miserable;black sinner like me。’ The door closed behind him; and she heard his feet echoing down the longhall; away。 She stood alone in the kitchen; holding the empty coffee…pot that she had been about towash。 She thought: ‘He’ll e back; and he’ll e back drunk。’ And then she had thought;looking about the kitchen: ‘Lord; wouldn’t it be a blessing if he didn’t never e back no more。’
  The Lord had given her what she said she wanted; as was often; she had found; His bewilderingmethod of answering prayer。 Frank never did e back。 He lived for a long while with anotherwoman; and when the war came he died in France。
  Now; somewhere at the other end of the earth; her husband lay buried。 He slept in a landhis fathers had never seen。 She wondered often if his grave was marked—if there stood over it; asin pictures she had seen; a small white cross。 If the Lord had ever allowed her to cross that swelling ocean she would have gone; among all the millions buried there; to seek out his grave。
  Wearing deep mourning; she would have laid on it; perhaps; a wreath of flowers; as other womendid; and stood for a moment; head bowed; considering the unspeaking ground。 How terrible itwould be for Frank to rise on the day of judgment so far from home! And he surely would notscruple; even on that day; to be angry at the Lord。 ‘Me and the Lord;’ he had often said; ‘don’talways get along so well。 He running the world like He thinks I ain’t got good sense。’ How had hedied? Slow or sudden? Had he cried out? Had death e creeping on him from behind; or facedhim like a man? She knew nothing about it; for she had not known that he was dead until longafterwards; when boys were ing home and she had begun searching for Frank’s face in thestreets。 It was the woman with whom he had lived who had told her; for Frank had given thiswoman’s name as his next…of…kin。 The woman; having told her; had not known what else to say;and she stared at Florence in simple…minded pity。 This made Florence furious; and she barelymurmured: ‘Thank you;’ before she turned away。 She hated Frank for making this woman officialwitness to her humiliation。 And she wondered again what Frank had seen in this woman; who;though she was younger than Florence; had never been so pretty; and who drank all the time; andwho was seen with many men。
  But it had been from the first her great mistake—to meet him; to marry him; to love him asshe so bitterly had。 Looking at his face; it sometimes came to her that all women had been cursedfrom the cradle; all; in one fashion or another; being given the same cruel destiny; born to sufferthe weight of men。 Frank claimed that she got it all wrong side up: it was men who sufferedbecause they had to put up with the ways of women—and this from the time that they were bornuntil the day they died。 But it was she who was right; she knew; with Frank she had always beenright; and it had not been her fault that Frank was the way he was; determined to live and die amon nigger。
  But he was always swearing that he would do better; it was; perhaps; the brutality of hispenitence that had kept them together for so long。 There was something in her which loved to seehim bow—when he came home; stinking with whisky; and crept with tears into her arms。 Then he;so ultimately master; was mastered。 And holding him in her arms while; finally; he slept; shethought with the sensations of luxury and power: ‘But there’s a lots of good in Frank。 I just got tobe patient and he’ll e along all right。’ To ‘e along’ meant that he would change his waysand consent to be the husband she had traveled so far to find。 It was he who; unforgivably; taughther that there are people in the world for whom ‘ing along’ is a perpetual process; people whoare destin

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