波波小说

第3部分（第1页）

passed　on　Sunday　mornings　had　spent　the　night　inbars；　or　in　cat　houses；　or　on　the　streets；　or　on　the　rooftops；　or　under　the　stairs。　They　had　beendrinking。　They　had　gone　from　cursing　to　laughter；　to　anger；　to　lust。　Once　he　and　Roy　had　watcheda　man　and　woman　in　the　basement　of　a　condemned　house。　They　did　it　standing　up。　The　womanhad　wanted　fifty　cents；　and　the　man　had　flashed　a　razor。

John　had　never　watched　again；　he　had　been　afraid。　But　Roy　had　watched　them　many　times；and　he　told　John　he　had　done　it　with　some　girls　down　the　block。

And　his　mother　and　father；　who　went　to　church　on　Sundays；　they　did　it　too；　and　sometimesJohn　heard　them　in　the　bedroom　behind　him；　over　the　sound　of　rat’s　feet；　and　rat　screams；　and　themusic　and　cursing　from　the　harlot’s　house　downstairs。

Their　church　was　called　the　Temple　of　the　Fire　Baptized。　It　was　not　the　biggest　church　inHarlem；　not　yet　the　smallest；　but　John　had　been　brought　up　to　believe　it　was　the　holiest　and　best。

His　father　was　head　deacon　in　this　church—there　were　only　two；　the　other　a　round；　black　mannamed　Deacon　Braithwaite—and　he　took　up　the　collection；　and　sometimes　he　preached。　Thepastor；　Father　James；　was　a　genial；　well…fed　man　with　a　face　like　a　darker　moon。　It　was　he　whopreached　on　Pentecost　Sundays；　and　led　revivals　in　the　summer…time；　and　anointed　and　healed　thesick。

On　Sunday　mornings　and　Sunday　nights　the　church　was　always　full；　on　special　Sundays　itwas　full　all　day。　The　Grimes　family　arrived　in　a　body；　always　a　little　late；　usually　in　the　middle　ofSunday　school；　which　began　at　nine　o’clock。　This　lateness　was　always　their　mother’s　fault—atleast　in　the　eyes　of　their　father；　she　could　not　seem　to　get　herself　and　the　children　ready　on　time；ever；　and　sometimes　she　actually　remained　behind；　not　to　appear　until　the　morning　service。　Whenthey　all　arrived　together；　they　separated　upon　entering　the　doors；　father　and　mother　going　to　sit　inthe　Adult　Class；　which　was　taught　by　Sister　McCandless；　Sarah　going　to　the　Infants’　Class；　Johnand　Roy　sitting　in　the　Intermediate；　which　was　taught　by　Brother　Elisha。

When　he　was　young；　John　had　paid　no　attention　in　Sunday　school；　and　always　forgot　thegolden　text；　which　earned　him　the　wrath　of　his　father。　Around　the　time　of　his　fourteenth　birthday；with　all　the　pressures　of　church　and　home　uniting　to　drive　him　to　the　altar；　he　strove　to　appearmore　serious　and　therefore　less　conspicuous。　But　he　was　distracted　by　his　new　teacher；　Elisha；　whowas　the　pastor’s　nephew　and　who　had　but　lately　arrived　from　Georgia。　He　was　not　much　older　thanJohn；　only　seventeen；　and　he　was　already　saved　and　was　a　preacher。　John　stared　at　Elisha　allduring　the　lesson；　admiring　the　timbre　of　Elisha’s　voice；　much　deeper　and　manlier　than　his　own；　admiring　the　leanness；　and　grace；　and　strength；　and　darkness　of　Elisha　in　his　Sunday　suit；wondering　if　he　would　ever　be　holy　as　Elisha　was　holy。　But　he　did　not　follow　the　lesson；　andwhen；　sometimes；　Elisha　paused　to　ask　John　a　question；　John　was　ashamed　and　confused；　feelingthe　palms　of　his　hands　bee　wet　and　his　heart　pound　like　a　hammer。　Elisha　would　smile　andreprimand　him　gently；　and　the　lesson　would　go　on。

Roy　never　knew　his　Sunday　school　lesson　either；　but　it　was　different　with　Roy—no　onereally　expected　of　Roy　what　was　expected　of　John。　Everyone　was　always　praying　that　the　Lordwould　change　Roy’s　heart；　but　it　was　John　who　was　expected　to　be　good；　to　be　a　good　example。

When　Sunday　school　service　ended　there　was　a　short　pause　before　morning　service　began。

In　this　pause；　if　it　was　good　weather；　the　old　folks　might　step　outside　a　moment　to　talk　amongthemselves。　The　sisters　would　almost　always　be　dressed　in　white　from　crown　to　tow。　The　smallchildren；　on　this　day；　in　this　place；　and　oppressed　by　their　elders；　tried　hard　to　play　withoutseeming　to　be　disrespectful　of　God’s　house。　But　sometimes；　nervous　or　perverse；　they　shouted；　orthrew　hymn…books；　or　began　to　cry；　putting　their　parents；　men　or　women　of　God；　under　thenecessity　of　proving—by　harsh　means　or　tender—who；　in　a　sanctified　household；　ruled。　The　olderchildren；　like　John　or　Roy；　might　wander　down　the　avenue；　but　not　too　far。　Their　father　never　letJohn　and　Roy　out　of　his　sight；　for　Roy　had　often　disappeared　between　Sunday　school　and　morningservice　and　has　not　e　back　all　day。

The　Sunday　morning　service　began　when　Brother　Elisha　sat　down　at　the　piano　and　raised　asong。　This　moment　and　this　music　had　been　with　John；　so　it　seemed；　since　he　had　first　drawnbreath。　It　seemed　that　there　had　never　been　a　time　when　he　had　not　known　this　moment　of　waitingwhile　the　packed　church　paused—the　sisters　in　white；　heads　raised；　the　brothers　in　blue；　headsback；　the　white　caps　of　the　women　seeming　to　glow　in　the　charged　air　like　crowns；　the　kinky；gleaming　heads　of　the　men　seeming　to　be　lifted　up—and　the　rustling　and　the　whispering　ceasedand　the　children　eone　coughed；　or　the　sound　of　a　car　horn；　or　a　curse　fromthe　streets　came　in；　the　Elisha　hit　the　keys；　beginning　at　once　to　sing；　and　everybody　joined　him；clapping　their　hands；　and　rising；　and　beating　the　tambourines。

The　song　might　be：　Down　at　the　cross　where　my　Savior　died！

Or：　Jesus；　I’ll　never　forget　how　you　set　me　free！

Or：　Lord；　hold　my　hand　while　I　run　this　race！

They　sang　with　all　the　strength　that　was　in　them；　and　clapped　their　hands　for　joy。　There　hadnever　been　a　time　when　John　had　not　sat　watching　the　saints　rejoice　with　terror　in　his　heart；　andwonder。　Their　singing　caused　him　to　believe　in　the　presence　of　the　Lord；　indeed；　it　was　no　longer　aquestion　of　belief；　because　they　made　that　presence　real。　He　did　not　feel　it　himself；　the　joy　theyfelt；　yet　he　could　not　doubt　that　it　was；　for　them；　the　very　bread　of　life—could　not　doubt　it；　that　is；until　it　was　too　late　to　doubt。　Something　happened　to　their　faces　and　their　voices；　the　rhythm　oftheir　bodies；　and　to　the　air　they　breathed；　it　was　as　though　wherever　they　might　be　became　theupper　room；　and　the　Holy　Ghost　were　riding　on　the　air。　His　father’s　face；　always　awful；　becamemore　awful　now；　his　father’s　daily　anger　was　transformed　into　prophetic　wrath。　His　mother；　hereyes　raised　to　heaven；　hands　arked　before　her；　moving；　made　real　for　John　that　patience；　thatendurance；　that　long　suffering；　which　he　had　read　of　in　the　Bible　and　found　so　hard　to　imagine。

On　Sunday　mornings　the　women　all　seemed　patient；　all　the　men　seemed　mighty。　WhileJohn　watched；　the　Power　struck　someone；　a　man　or　woman；　they　cried　out；　a　long；　wordlesscrying；　and；　arms　outstretched　like　wings；　they　began　the　Shout。　Someone　moved　a　chair　a　little　togive　them　room；　the　rhythm　paused；　the　singing　stopped；　only　the　pounding　feet　and　the　clappinghands　were　heard；　then　another　cry；　another　dancer；　then　the　tambourines　began　again；　and　thevoices　rose　again；　and　the　music　swept　on　again；　like　fire；　or　flood；　or　judgment。　Then　the　churchseemed　to　swell　with　the　Power　it　held；　and；　like　a　pla　rocking　in　space；　the　temple　rocked　withthe　Power　of　God。　John　watched；　watched　the　faces；　and　the　weightless　bodies；　and　listened　to　thetimeless　cries。　One　day；　so　everyone　said；　this　Power　would　possess　him；　he　would　sing　and　cry　asthey　did　now；　and　dance　before　his　King。　He　watched　young　Ella　Mae　Washington；　the　seventeen…year…old　granddaughter　of　Praying　Mother　Washington；　as　she　began　to　dance。　And　then　Elishadanced。

At　one　moment；　head　thrown　back；　eyes　closed；　sweat　standing　on　his　brow；　he　sat　at　thepiano；　singing　and　playing；　and　then；　like　a　great　black　cat　in　trouble　in　the　jungle；　he　stiffened　andtrembled；　and　cried　out。　Jesus；　Jesus；　oh　Lord　Jesus！　He　struck　on　the　piano　one　last　wild　note；　andthrew　up　his　hands；　palms　upward；　stretched　wide　apart。　The　tambourines　raced　to　fill　the　vacuumleft　by　his　silent　piano；　and　his　cry　drew　answering　cries。　Then　he　was　on　his　feet；　turning；　blind；his　face　congested；　contorted　with　this　rage；　and　the　muscles　leaping　ands　swelling　in　his　long；dark　neck。　It　seemed　that　he　could　not　breathe；　that　his　body　could　not　contain　this　passion；　that　hewould　be；　before　their　eyes；　dispersed　into　the　waiting　air。　His　hand；　rigid　to　the　very　fingertips；moved　outward　and　back　against　his　hips；　his　sightless　eyes　looked　upward；　and　he　began　to　dance。

Then　his　hands　close　into　fists；　and　his　head　snapped　downward；　his　sweat　loosening　the　greasethat　slicked　down　his　hair；　and　the　rhythm　of　all　the　others　quickened　to　match　Elisha’s　rhythm；　histhighs　moved　terribly　against　the　cloth　of　his　suit；　his　heels　beat　on　the　floor；　and　his　fists　movedbeside　his　body　as　though　he　were　beating　his　own　drum。　And　so；　for　a　while；　in　the　centre　of　thedancers；　head　down；　fists　beating；　on；　on；　unbearably；　until　it　seemed　the　walls　of　the　church　wouldfall　for　very　sound；　and　then；　in　a　moment；　with　a　cry；　head　up；　arms　high　in　the　air；　sweat　pouringfrom　his　forehead；　and　all　his　body　dancing　as　though　it　would　never　stop。　Sometimes　he　did　notstop　until　he　fell—until　he　dropped　like　some　animal　felled　by　a　hammer—moaning；　on　his　face。

And　then　a　great　moaning　filled　the　church。

There　was　sin　among　them。　One　Sunday；　when　regular　service　was　over；　Father　James　haduncovered　sin　in　the　congregation　of　the　righteous。　He　had　uncovered　Elisha　and　Ella　Mae。　Theyhad　been　‘walking　disorderly’；　they　were　in　danger　of　straying　from　the　truth。　And　as　Father　Jamesspoke　of　the　sin　that　he　knew　they　had　not　mitted　yet；　of　the　unripe　fig　plucked　too　early　fromthe　tree—to　set　the　children’s　teeth　on　edge—John　felt　himself　grow　dizzy　in　his　seat　and　couldnot　look　at　Elisha　where　he　stood；　beside　Ella　Mae；　before　the　altar。　Elisha　hung　his　head　as　FatherJames　spoke；　and　the　congregation　murmured。　And　Ella　Mae　was　not　so　beautiful　now　as　she　waswhen　she　was　singing　and　testifying；　but　looked　like　a　sullen；　ordinary　girl。　Her　full　lips　were　looseand　her　eyes　were　black—with　shame；　or　rage；　or　both。　Her　grandmother；　who　had　raised　her；　satwatching　quietly；　with　folded　hands。　She　of　the　pillars　of　the　church；　a　powerful　evangelistandverywidelyknown。Shesaidnothi（was）　ngin（one）　Ella　Mae’s　defense；　for　she　must　have　felt；as　the　congregation　felt；　that　Father　James　was　only　exercising　his　clear　and　painful　duty；　he　wasresponsible；　after　all；　for　Elisha；　as　Praying　Mother　Washington　was　responsible　for　Ella　Mae。　It　was　not　an　easy　thing；　said　Father　James；　to　be　the　pastor　of　a　flock。　It　might　look　easy　to　just　situp　there　in　the　pulpit　night　after　night；　year　in；　year　out；　but　let　them　remember　the　awfulresponsibility　placed　on　his　shoulders　by　almighty　God—let　them　remember　that　God　would　askan　accounting　of　him　one　day　for　every　soul　in　his　flock。　Let　them　remember　this　when　theythough　he　was　hard；　let　them　remember　that　the　Word　was　hard；　that　the　way　of　holiness　was　ahard　way。　There　was　no　room　in　God’s　army　for　the　coward　heart；　no　crown　awaiting　him　who　putmother；　or　father；　sister；　or　brother；　sweetheart；　or　friend　above　God’s　will。　Let　the　church　cryamen　to　this！　And　they　cried：　‘Amen！　Amen！’

The　Lord　had　led　him；　said　Father　James；　looking　down　on　the　boy　and　girl　before　him；　togive　them　a　public　warning　before　it　was　too　late。　For　he　knew　them　to　be　sincere　young　people；dedicate　to　the　service　of　the　Lord—it　was　only　that；　since　they　were　young；　the

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