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The old man loved medicine and treatment Always when he
used to come in with his family to see Daisy he would have
himself examined and take home medicine and salves for the
whole group of them。 But when Daisy left him the old man
did not come anymore and he had to content himself with
purges and kidney pills advertised in the newspapers。 Now the
old man was looking at him with timid eagerness。
'Drink plenty of water��' said Doctor Copeland。 'And rest as
much as you can。'
Portia went into the kitchen to prepare the supper。 Warm
smells began to fill the room。 There was quiet�察�idle talking�察�
but Doctor Copeland did not listen or speak。 Now and then he
looked at Karl Marx or Hamilton。 Karl Marx talked about Joe
Louis。 Hamilton spoke mostly of the hail that had ruined some
of the crops。 When they caught their father's eye they grinned
and shuffled their feet on the floor。 He kept staring at them
with angry misery。
Doctor Copeland clamped his teeth down hard。 He had
thought so much about Hamilton and Karl Marx and William
and Portia�察�about the real true purpose he had had for them�察�
that the sight of their faces made a black swollen feeling in
him。 If once he could tell it all to them�察�from the far away
beginning until this very night�察�the telling would ease the
sharp ache in his heart。 But they would not listen or
understand。
He hardened himself so that each muscle in his body was rigid
and strained。 He did not listen or look at anything around him。
He sat in a corner like a man who is blind and dumb。 Soon
they went into the supper table and the old man said grace。
But Doctor Copeland did not eat126
When Highboy brought out a pint ��bottle of gin�察�and they
laughed and passed the bottle from mouth to mouth�察�he
refused that also。 He sat in rigid silence�察�and at last he picked
up his hat and left the house without a farewell。 If he could
not speak the whole long truth no other word would come to
him。
He lay tense and wakeful throughout the night。 Then the next
day was Sunday。 He made half a dozen calls�察�and in the
middle of the morning he went to Mr。 Singer's room。 The visit
blunted the feeling of loneliness in him so that when he said
good´bye he was at peace with himself once more。
However�察�before he was out of the house this peace had left
him。 An accident occurred。 As he started down the stairs he
saw a white man carrying a large paper sack and he drew close
to the banisters so that they could pass each other。 But the
white man was running up the steps two at a time�察�without
looking�察�and they collided with such force that Doctor
Copeland was left sick and breathless。
'Christ� �I didn't see you。'
Doctor Copeland looked at him closely but made no answer。
He had seen this white man once before。 He remembered the
stunted�察�brutal´looking body and the huge�察�awkward hands。
Then with sudden clinical interest he observed the white man's
face�察�for in his eyes he saw a strange�察�fixed�察�and withdrawn
look of madness。
'Sorry��' said the white man。
Doctor Copeland put his hand on the banister and passed on。
I
W HO was that��' Jake Blount asked。 'Who was the tall�察 ─�thin
colored man that just come out of here��
'
The small room was very neat。 The sun lighted a bowl of
purple grapes on the table。 Singer sat with his chair tilted back
and his hands in his pockets�察�looking out of the window。
'I bumped into him on the steps and he gave me this look!
why�察�I never had anybody to look at me so dirty。
'
Jake put the sack of ales down on the table。 He realized
I
127
with a shock that Singer did not know he was in the room。 He
walked over to the window and touched Singer on the
shoulder。
'I didn't mean to bump into him。 He had no cause to
act like that。'
Jake shivered。 Although the sun was bright there was a chill in
the room。 Singer held up his forefinger and went into the hall。
When he returned he brought with him a scuttle of coal and
some kindling。 Jake watched him kneel before the hearth。
Neatly he broke the sticks of kindling over his knee and
arranged them on the foundation of paper。 He put the coal on
according to a system。 At first the fire would not draw。 The
flames quivered weakly and were smothered by a black roll of
smoke。 Singer covered the grate with a double sheet of
newspapers。 The draught gave the fire new life。 In the room
there was a roaring sound。 The paper glowed and was sucked
inward。 A crackling orange sheet of flame filled the grate。
The first morning ale had a fine mellow taste。 Jake gulped his
share down quickly and wiped his mouth with file back of his
hand。
There was this lady I knew a long time ago��' he said。 'You sort
of remind me of her�察�Miss Clara。 She had a little farm in
Texas。 And made pralines to sell in the cities。 She was a tall�察�
big�察�fine´looking lady。 Wore those long�察�baggy sweaters and
clodhopper shoes and a man's hat。 Her husband was dead
when I knew her。 But what I'm getting at is this�此�If it hadn't
been for her I might never have known。 I might have gone on
through life like the millions of others who don't know。 I
would have just been a preacher or a linthead or a salesman。
My whole life might have
been wasted。'
Jake shook his head wonderingly。
To understand you got to know what went before。 You see�察�I
lived in Gastonia when I was a youngun。 I was a knock´kneed
little runt�察�too small to put in the mill。 I worked as pin boy in a
bowling joint and got meals for pay。 Then I heard a smart�察�
quick boy could make thirty cents a day stringing tobacco not
very far from there。 So I went and made that thirty cents a day。
That was^ when I was ten years old。 I just left my folks。 I
didn't write。 They were glad I was gone。 You understand how
those things are。128
And besides�察�nobody could read a letter but my sister。'
He waved his hand in the air as though brushing something
from his face。 'But I mean this。 My first belief was Jesus。
There was this fellow working in the same shed with me。 He
had a tabernacle and preached every night。 I went and listened
and I got this faith。 My mind was on Jesus all day long。 In my
spare time I studied the Bible and prayed。 Then one night I
took a hammer and laid my hand on the table。 I was angry and
I drove the nail all the way through。 My hand was nailed to
the table and I looked at it and the fingers fluttered and turned
blue。'
Jake held out his palm and pointed to the ragged�察�dead´white
scar in the center。
'I wanted to be an evangelist。 I meant to travel around the
country preaching and holding revivals。 In the meantime I
moved around from one place to another�察�and when I was
nearly twenty I got to Texas。 I worked in a pecan grove near
where Miss Clara lived。 I got to know her and at night
sometimes I would go to her house。 She talked to me。
Understand�察�I didn't begin to know all at once。 That's not the
way it happens to any of us。 It was gradual。 I began to read。 I
would work just so I could put aside enough money to knock
off for a while and study。 It was like being born a second time。
Just us who know can unders