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‘Amen； bless the Lord！’ cried Praying Mother Washington。
‘What book was it； Richard？’
‘Oh； I don’t remember。 Just a book。’
‘You smiled。’
‘You was mighty pretty。’
She took her sodden handkerchief out of her bag； and dried her eyes； and dried her eyesagain； looking down the avenue。
‘Yes；’ said Sister Price； gently； ‘you just thank the Lord。 You just let the tears fall。 I knowyour heart is full this morning。’
‘The Lord’s done give you；’ said Praying Mother Washington； ‘a mighty blessing—andwhat the Lord gives； can’t no man take away。’
‘I open；’ said Sister McCandless； ‘and no man can shut。 I shut； and no man can open。’
‘Amen；’ said Sister Price。 ‘Amen。’
‘Well； I reckon；’ Florence said； ‘your soul is praising God this morning。’
He looked straight ahead； saying nothing； holding his body more rigid than an arrow‘You always been saying；’ Florence said； ‘how the Lord would answer your prayer。’ Andshe looked sideways at him； with a little smile。
‘He going to learn；’ he said at last； ‘that it ain’t all in the singing and the shouting—the wayof holiness is a hard way。 He got the steep side of the mountain to climb。’
‘But he got you there；’ she said； ‘ain’t he to help him when he stumbles； and to be a goodexample？’
‘I’m going to see to it；’ he said； ‘that he walks right before the Lord。 The Lord’s done puthis soul in my charge—and I ain’t going to have that boy’s blood on my hands。’
‘No；’ she said； mildly； ‘I reckon you don’t want that。’
Then they heard the siren； and the headlong； warning bell。 She watched his face as helooked outward at the silent avenue and at the ambulance that raced to carry someone to healing；or to death。
‘Yes；’ she said； ‘that wagon’s ing； ain’t； one day for everybody？’
‘I pray；’ he said； ‘it finds you ready； sister。’
‘Is it going to find you ready？’ she asked。
‘I know my name is written in the Book of Life；’ he said。 ‘I know I’m going to look on mySavior’s face in glory。’
‘Yes；’ she said； slowly； ‘we’s all going to be together there。 Mama； and you； and me； andDeborah—and what was the name of that little girl who died not long after I left home？’
‘What little girl who died？’ he asked。 ‘A lot of folks died after you left home—you leftyour mother on her dying bed。’
‘This girl was a mother； too；’ she said。 ‘Look like she went north all by herself； and had herbaby； and died—weren’t nobody to help her。 Deborah wrote me about it。 Sure； you ain’t forgottenthat girl’s name； Gabriel！’
Then his step faltered—seemed； for a moment； to drag。 And he looked at her。 She smiled；and lightly touched his arm。
‘You ain’t forgotten her name；’ she said。 ‘You can’t tell me you done forgot her name。 Isyou going to look on her face； too？ Is her name written in the Book of Life？’
In utter silence they walked together； her hand still under his trembling arm。
‘Deborah didn’t never write；’ she at last pursued； ‘about what happened to the baby。 Didyou ever see him？ You going to meet him in Heaven； too？’
‘The Word tell us；’ he said； ‘to let the dead bury the dead。 Why you want to go rummagingaround back there； digging up things what’s all forgotten now？ The Lord； He knows my life—Hedone forgive me a long time ago。’
‘Look like；’ she said； ‘you think the Lord’s a man like you； you think you can fool Himlike you fool men； and you think He forgets； like men。 But God don’t forget nothing； Gabriel—ifyour name’s down there in the Book； like you say； it’s got all what you done right down there withit。 And you going to answer for it； too。’
‘I done answered；’ he said； ‘already before my God。 I ain’t got to answer now； in front ofyou。’
She opened her handbag； and took out the letter。
‘I been carrying this letter now；’ she said； ‘for more than thirty years。 And I beenwondering all that time if I’d ever talk to you about it。’
And she looked at him。 He was looking； unwillingly； at the letter； which she held tightly inone hand。 It was old； and dirty； and brown； and torn； he recognized Deborah’s uncertain； tremblinghand； and he could see her again in the cabin； bending over the table； laboriously trusting to paperthe bitterness she had not spoken。 It had lived in her silence； then； all those years？ He could notbelieve it。 She had been praying for him as she died—she had sworn to meet him in glory。 Andyet； this letter； her witness； spoke； breaking her long silence； now that she was beyond his reach forever。
‘Yes；’ said Florence； watching his face； ‘you didn’t give her no bed of roses to sleep on； didyou？—poor； simple； ugly； black girl。 And you didn’t treat that other one no better。 Who is youmet； Gabriel； all your holy life long； you ain’t made to drink a cup of sorrow？ And you doing itstill—you going to be doing it till the Lord puts you in you grave。’
‘God’s way；’ he said； and his speech was thick； his face was slick with sweat； ‘ain’t man’sway。 I been doing the will of the Lord； and can’t nobody sit in judgment on me but the Lord。 TheLord called me out； He chose me； and I been running with Him ever since I made a start。 You can’tkeep your eyes on all this foolishness here below； all this wickedness here below—you got to liftup your eyes to the hills and run from the destruction falling on the earth； you got to put your handin Jesus’ hand； and go where He says go。’
‘And if you been but a stumbling…stone here below？’ she said。 ‘If you done caused soulsright and left to stumble and fall； and lose their happiness； and lose their souls？ What then；prophet？ What then； the Lord’s anointed？ Ain’t no reckoning going to be called of you？ What yougoing to say when the wagon es？’
He lifted up his head； and she saw tears mingled with his sweat。 ‘The Lord；’ he said； ‘Hesees the heart—He sees the heart。’
‘Yes；’ she said； ‘but I done read the Bible； too； and it tells me you going to know the treeby its fruit。 What fruit I seen from you if it ain’t been just sin and sorrow and shame？’
‘You be careful；’ he said； ‘how you talk to the Lord’s anointed。 ’Cause my life ain’t in thatletter—you don’t know my life。’
‘Where is your life； Gabriel？’ she asked； after a despairing pause。 ‘Where is it？ Ain’t it alldone gone for nothing？ Where’s your branches？ Where’s your fruit？’
He said nothing； insistently； she tapped the letter with her thumbnail。 They wereapproaching the corner where she must leave him； turning westward to take her undergroundhome。 In the light that filled the streets； the light that the sun was now beginning to corrupt withfire； she watched John and Elisha just before them； John’ listening head bent； Elisha’s arm abouthis shoulder。
‘I got a son；’ he said at last； ‘and the Lord’s going to rise him up。 I know—the Lord haspromised—His word is true。’
And then she laughed。 ‘That son；’ she said； ‘that Roy。 You going to weep for many aeternity before you see him crying in front of the altar like Johnny was crying to…night。’
‘God sees the heart；’ he repeated； ‘He sees the heart。’
‘Well； He ought to see it；’ she cried； ‘He made it！ But don’t nobody else se it； not evenyour own self！ Let God see it—He sees it all right； and He don’t say nothing。’
‘He speaks；’ he said； ‘He speaks。 All you got to do is listen。’
‘I been listening many a night…time long；’ said Florence； then； ‘and He ain’t never spoke tome。’
‘He ain’t never spoke；’ said Gabriel； ‘because you ain’t never wanted to hear。 You justwanted Him to tell you your way was right。 And that ain’t no way to wait on God。’
‘Then tell me；’ Said Florence； ‘what He done said to you—that you didn’t want to hear？’
And there was silence again。 Now they both watched John and Elisha。
‘I going to tell you something； Gabriel；’ she said。 ‘I know you thinking at the bottom ofyour heart that if you make her； her and her bastard boy； pay enough for her sin； your son won’thave to pay for yours。 But I ain’t going to let you do that。 You done made enough folks pay