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

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as。’　She　knew　that　she　had　hurthim；　and　that　he　was　angry；　by　the　habit　he　had　at　such　a　moment　of　running　his　tongue　quicklyand　incessantly　over　his　lower　lip。　‘But　we’s　a…going　now；　so　you　can　sweep　up　the　parlor　and　sitthere；　if　you　want　to；　till　the　judgment　day。’
　　And　he　left　the　kitchen。　She　heard　murmurs　in　the　parlor；　and　then　the　slamming　of　thedoor。　She　remembered；　too　late；　that　he　had　all　his　money　with　him。　When　he　came　back；　longafter　nightfall；　and　she　put　him　to　bed　and　went　through　his　pockets；　she　found　nothing；　or　almostnothing；　and　she　sank　helplessly　to　the　parlor　floor　and　cried。
　　When　he　came　back　at　times　like　this　he　would　be　petulant　and　penitent。　She　would　notcreep　into　bed　until　she　thought　that　he　was　sleeping。　But　he　would　not　be　sleeping。　He　would　turn　as　she　stretched　her　legs　beneath　the　blankets；　and　his　arm　would　reach　out；　and　his　breath　wouldbe　hot　and　sour…sweet　in　her　face。
　　‘Sugar…plum；　what　you　want　to　be　so　evil　with　your　baby　for？　Don’t　you　know　you　donemade　me　go　out　and　get　drunk；　and　I　wasn’t　a…fixing　to　do　that？　I　wanted　to　take　you　outsomewhere　to…night。’　And；　while　he　spoke；　his　hand　was　on　her　breast；　and　his　moving　lipsbrushed　her　neck。　And　this　caused　such　a　war　in　her　as　could　scarcely　be　endured。　She　felt　thateverything　in　existence　between　them　was　part　of　a　mighty　plan　for　her　humiliation。　She　did　notwant　his　touch；　and　yet　she　did：　she　burned　with　longing　and　froze　with　rage。　And　she　felt　that　heknew　this　and　inwardly　smile　to　see　how　easily；　on　this　part　of　the　battlefield；　his　victory　could　beassured。　But　at　the　same　time　she　felt　that　his　tenderness；　his　passion；　and　his　love　were　real。
　　‘Let　me　alone；　Frank。　I　want　to　go　to　sleep。’
　　‘No　you　don’t。　You　don’t　want　to　go　to　sleep　so　soon。　You　want　me　to　talk　to　you　a　little。
　　You　know　how　your　baby　loves　to　talk。　Listen。’　And　he　brushed　her　neck　lightly　with　his　tongue。
　　‘You　hear　that？’
　　He　waited。　She　was　silent。
　　‘Ain’t　you　got　nothing　more　to　say　than　that？　I　better　tell　you　something　else。’　And　then　hecovered　her　face　with　kisses；　her　face；　neck；　arms；　and　breasts。
　　‘You　stink　of　whisky。　Let　me　alone。’
　　‘Ah。　I　ain’t　the　only　one　got　a　tongue。　What　you　got　to　say　to　this？　And　his　hand　strokedthe　inside　of　her　thigh。
　　‘Stop。’
　　‘I　ain’t　going　to　stop。　This　is　sweet　talk；　baby。’
　　Ten　years。　Their　battle　never　ended；　they　never　bought　a　home。　He　died　in　France。　To…night　sheremembered　details　of　those　years　which　she　thought　she　had　forgotten；　and　at　last　she　felt　thestony　ground　of　her　heart　break　up；　and　tears；　as　difficult　and　slow　as　blood；　began　to　tricklethrough　her　fingers。　This　the　old　woman　above　her　somehow　divined；　and　she　cried：　‘Yes；　honey。
　　You　just　let　go；　honey。　Let　Him　bring　you　low　so　He　can　raise　you　up。’　And　was　this　the　way　sheshould　have　gone？　Had　she　been　wrong　to　fight　so　hard？　Now　she　was　an　old　woman；　and　allalone；　and　she　was　going　to　die。　And　she　had　nothing　for　all　her　battles。　It　had　all　e　to　this：　shewas　on　her　face　before　the　altar；　crying　to　God　for　mercy。　Behind　her　she　heard　Gabriel　cry：　‘Blessyour　name；　Jesus！’　and；　thinking　of　him　and　the　high　road　of　holiness　he　had　traveled；　her　mindswung　like　a　needle；　and　she　thought　of　Deborah。
　　Deborah　had　written　her；　not　many　times；　but　in　a　rhythm　that　seemed　to　remark　each　crisisin　her　life　with　Gabriel；　and　once；　during　the　time　she　and　Frank　were　still　together；　she　hadreceived　from　Deborah　a　letter　that　she　had　still：　it　was　locked　to…night　in　her　handbag；　which　layon　the　altar。　She　had　always　meant　to　show　this　letter　to　Gabriel　one　day；　but　she　never　had。　Shehad　talked　with　Frank　about　it　late　one　night　while　he　lay　in　bed　whistling　some　ragtag　tune　and　she　sat　before　the　mirror　and　rubbed　bleaching　cream　into　her　skin。　The　letter　lay　open　before　herand　she　sighed　loudly；　to　attract　Frank’s　attention。
　　He　stopped　whistling　in　the　middle　of　a　phrase；　mentally；　she　finished　it。　‘What　you　gotthere；　sugar？’　he　asked；　lazily。
　　‘It’s　a　letter　from　my　brother’s　wife。’　She　stared　at　her　face　in　the　mirror；　thinking　angrilythat　all　these　skin　creams　were　a　waste　of　money；　they　never　did　any　good。
　　‘What’s　them　niggers　doing　down　home？　It　ain’t　no　bad　news；　is　it？　Still　he　hummed；irrepressibly；　deep　in　his　throat。
　　‘No　…　well；　it　ain’t　no　good　news　neither；　but　it　ain’t　nothing　to　surprise　me　none。　She　saysshe　think　my　brother’s　got　a　bastard　living　right　there　in　the　same　town　what　he’s　scared　to　call　hisown。’
　　‘No？　And　I　thought　you　said　you　brother　was　a　preacher。’
　　‘Being　a　preacher　ain’t　never　stopped　a　nigger　from　doing　his　dirt。’
　　Then　he　laughed。　‘You　sure　don’t　love　your　brother　like　you　should。　How　e　his　wifefound　out　about　this　kid？’
　　She　picked　up　the　letter　and　turned　to　face　him。　‘Sound　to　me　like　she　been　knowing　aboutit　but　she　ain’t　never　had　the　nerve　to　say　nothing。’　She　paused；　then　added；　reluctantly：　‘Ofcourse；　she　ain’t　really　what　you　might　call　sure。　But　she　ain’t　a　woman　to　go　around　thinkingthings。　She　mighty　worried。’
　　‘Hell；　what　she　worried　about　it　now　for？　Can’t　nothing　be　done　about　it　now。
　　‘She　wonder　if　she　ought　to　ask　him　about　it。’
　　‘And　do　she　reckon　if　she　ask　him；　he　going　to　be　fool　enough　to　say　yes？’
　　She　sighed　again；　more　genuinely　this　time；　and　turned　back　to　the　mirror。　‘Well　…　he’s　apreacher。　And　if　Deborah’s　right；　he　ain’t　got　not　right　to　be　a　preacher。　He　ain’t　no　better’nnobody　else。　In　fact；　he　ain’t　no　better　than　a　murderer。’
　　He　had　begun　to　whistle　again；　he　stopped。　‘Murderer？　How　so？’
　　‘Because　he　done　let　this　child’s　mother　go　off　and　die　when　the　child　was　born。　That’show　so。’　She　paused。　‘And　it　sounds　just　like　Gabriel。　He　ain’t　never　thought　a　minute　aboutnobody　in　this　world　but　himself。’
　　He　said　nothing；　watching　her　implacable　back。　Then：　‘You　going　to　answer　this　letter？’
　　‘I　reckon。’
　　‘And　what　you　going　to　say？’
　　‘I’m　going　to　tell　her　she　ought　to　let　him　know　she　know　about　his　wickedness。　Get　up　infront　of　the　congregation　and　tell　them　too；　if　she　has　to。’
　　He　stirred　restlessly；　and　frowned。　‘Well；　you　know　more　about　it　than　me。　But　I　don’t　seewhere　that’s　going　to　do　no　good。’
　　　‘It’ll　do　her　some　good。　It’ll　make　him　treat　her　better。　You　don’t　know　my　brother　like　Ido。　There　ain’t　but　one　way　to　get　along　with　him；　you　got　to　scare　him　half　to　death。　That’s　all。　Heain’t　got　no　right　to　go　around　running　his　mouth　about　how　holy　he　is　if　he　done　turned　a　tricklike　that。’
　　There　was　silence；　he　whistled　again　a　few　bars　of　his　song；　and　then　he　yawned；　and　said：
　　‘Is　you　ing　to　bed；　old　lady？　Don’t　know　why　you　keep　wasting　all　your　time　and　my　moneyon　all　them　old　skin　whiteners。　You　as　black　now　as　you　was　the　day　you　was　born。’
　　‘You　wasn’t　there　the　day　I　was　born。　And　I　know　you　don’t　want　a　coal…black　woman。’
　　But　she　rose　from　the　mirror；　and　moved　toward　the　bed。
　　‘I　ain’t　never　said　nothing　like　that。　You　just　kindly　turn　out　that　light　and　I’ll　make　you　toknow　that　black’s　a　mighty　pretty　color。’
　　She　wondered　if　Deborah　had　ever　spoken；　and　she　wondered　if　she　would　give　Gabriel　theletter　that　she　carried　in　her　handbag　to…night。　She　had　held　it　all　these　years；　awaiting　some　savageopportunity。　What　this　opportunity　would　have　been　she　did　not；　at　this　moment　she　did　not　wantto　know。　For　she　had　always　thought　of　this　letter　as　an　instrument　in　her　hands　which　could　beused　to　plete　her　brother’s　destruction。　When　he　was　pletely　cast　down　she　would　preventhim　from　ever　rising　again　by　holding　before　him　the　evidence　of　his　blood…guilt。　But　now　shethought　she　would　not　live　to　see　this　patiently　awaited　day。　She　was　going　to　be　cut　down。
　　And　the　thought　filled　her　with　terror　and　rage；　the　tears　dried　on　her　face　and　the　heartwithin　her　shook；　divided　between　a　terrible　longing　to　surrender　and　a　desire　to　call　God　intoaccount。　Why　had　he　preferred　her　mother　and　her　brother；　the　old；　black　woman；　and　the　low；black　man；　while　she；　who　had　sought　only　to　walk　upright；　was　e　to　die；　alone　and　in　poverty；in　a　dirty；　furnished　room？　She　beat　her　fists　heavily　against　the　altar。　He；　he　would　live；　andsmiling；　watch　her　go　down　into　the　grave！　And　her　mother　would　be　there；　leaning　over　the　gatesof　Heaven；　to　see　her　daughter　burning　in　the　pit。
　　As　she　beat　her　fists　on　the　altar；　the　old　woman　above　her　laid　hands　on　her　shoulders；crying：　‘Call　on　Him；　daughter！　Call　on　the　Lord！’　And　it　was　as　though　she　had　been　hurledoutward　into　time；　where　no　boundaries　were；　for　the　voice　was　the　voice　of　her　mother　but　thehands　were　the　hands　of　death。　And　she　cried　aloud；　as　she　had　never　in　all　her　life　cried　before；falling　on　her　face　on　the　altar；　at　the　feet　of　the　old　black　woman。　Her　tears　came　down　likeburning　rain。　And　the　hands　of　death　caressed　her　shoulders；　the　voice　whispered　and　whispered　inher　ear：　‘God’s　got　your　number；　knows　where　you　live；　death’s　got　a　warrant　out　for　you。’
　　2　GABRIEL’S　PRAYERNow　I　been　introducedTo　the　Father　and　the　Son；　And　I　ain’tNot　s