osc.am2.redprophet-第19部分

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of…God　told　him　not　to　visit　the　farms　when　the　men　were　away；　working　on　the　church。
　　So　there　was　nothing　left　for　Lolla…Wossiky　to　do。　He　knew　he　was　close　to　the　dream　beast；　but　he　couldn't　find　it。　He　couldn't　walk　in　the　forest　because　the　animals　ran　from　him　and　he　stumbled　and　fell　all　the　time；　more　and　more；　until　he　feared　he　might　break　a　bone　and　die　of　starvation　because　he　couldn't　even　call　small　animals　to　feed　him。　He　couldn't　visit　the　farms　because　the　men　were　angry。　So　he　lay　on　the　mons；　sleeping　from　drunkenness　or　trying　to　endure　the　pain　of　the　black　noise；　one　or　the　other。
　　Sometimes　he　worked　up　the　energy　to　go　up　the　hill　and　see　the　men　working　on　the　church。　Whenever　he　got　there；　some　man　would　call　out；　〃Here　es　the　Red　Christian！〃　and　Lolla…Wossiky　knew　that　there　was　malice　and　ridicule　in　the　voices　that　said　it　and　the　voices　that　laughed。
　　He　was　not　at　the　church　the　day　the　roof…beam　fell。　He　was　sleeping　on　the　grass　of　the　mons；　near　the　porch　of　Armor's　house；　when　he　heard　the　crash。　It　startled　him　awake；　and　the　black　noise　came　back　harsher　than　ever；　even　though　he　had　drunk　eight　swallows　that　morning　and　ought　to　be　drunk　till　noon。　He　lay　there　holding　his　head　until　men　started　ing　down　from　the　hill；　cursing　and　muttering　about　the　strange　thing　that　happened。
　　〃What　happened？〃　Lolla…Wossiky　asked。　He　had　to　know；　because　whatever　it　was；　it　had　made　the　black　noise　worse　than　it　had　been　in　years。　〃Was　a　man　killed？〃　He　knew　that　a　gunshot　made　the　black　noise　in　the　first　place。　〃Did　White　Murderer　Harrison　shoot　somebody？〃
　　At　first　they　paid　him　no　attention；　because　they　thought　he　was　drunk；　of　course。　But　finally　someone　told　him　what　happened。
　　They　had　been　laying　the　first　ridgebeam　in　place；　high　on　top　of　the　building；　when　the　central　ridgepole　shivered　and　tossed　the　ridgebeam　up　in　the　air。　〃Came　down　flat；　just　like　God's　own　foot　stepping　on　the　earth；　and　wouldn't　you　know；　there　was　that　little　Alvin　Junior；　Al　Miller's　boy；　right　under　the　beam。　Well；　we　thought　he　was　dead。　The　boy　just　stood　there；　the　beam　landed　smack　　you　must　have　heard　the　noise；　that's　why　it　sounded　like　a　gun　to　you　　but　you　won't　believe　this。　That　ridgebeam　split　right　in　half；　right　in　the　very　place　where　Alvin　was　standing；　split　right　in　two　and　landed　on　this　side　and　that　side　of　him；　didn't　touch　a　hair　on　his　head。〃
　　〃Something　strange　about　that　boy；〃　said　a　man。
　　〃He's　got　a　guardian　angel；　that's　what　he's　got；〃　said　another。
　　Alvin　Junior。　The　boy　he　couldn't　see　with　his　eye　open。
　　There　was　no　one　at　the　church　when　Lolla…Wossiky　got　there。　The　ridgebeam　was　also　gone；　everything　swept　out；　no　sign　of　the　accident。　But　Lolla…Wossiky　was　not　looking　with　his　eye。　He　could　feel　it；　almost　as　soon　as　he　got　within　sight　of　the　church。　A　whirlpool；　not　fast　at　the　edges；　but　stronger　and　stronger　the　closer　he　came。　A　whirlwind　of　light；　and　the　closer　he　got；　the　weaker　the　black　noise　became。　Until　he　stood　on　the　church　floor；　in　the　spot　that　he　knew　was　where　the　boy　was　standing。　How　did　he　know？　The　black　noise　was　quieter。　Not　gone；　the　pain　not　healed；　but　Lolla…Wossiky　could　feel　the　green　land　again；　just　a　little；　not　like　it　used　to　be；　but　he　could　feel　the　small　life　under　the　floor；　a　squirrel　in　the　meadow　not　far　off；　things　he　hadn't　felt；　drunk　or　sober；　in　all　the　years　since　the　gun　blew　the　black　noise　into　his　head。
　　Lolla…Wossiky　turned　around　and　around；　seeing　nothing　but　the　walls　of　the　church。　Until　he　closed　his　eye。　Then　he　saw　the　whirlwind；　yes；　white　light　spinning　and　spinning　around　him；　and　the　black　noise　retreating。　He　was　in　the　end　of　his　own　dream　now；　and　he　could　see　with　his　eye　closed；　see　clearly。　There　was　a　shining　path　ahead　of　him；　a　road　as　bright　as　the　noonday　sky；　dazzling　like　meadow　snow　on　a　clear　day。　He　knew　already；　without　opening　his　eye　to　see；　where　the　path　would　lead。　Up　the　hill；　down　the　other　side；　up　a　higher　hill；　to　a　house　not　far　from　a　strewn；　a　house　where　lived　a　White　boy　who　was　only　visible　to　Lolla…Wossiky　with　his　eye　closed。
　　His　silent　step　had　returned　to　him；　now　that　the　black　noise　had　backed　off　a　bit。　He　walked　around　the　house；　around　and　around。　No　one　heard　him。　Inside　laughter；　shouting；　screaming。　Happy　children；　quarreling　children。　Stern　voices　of　parents。　Except　for　the　language；　it　could　be　his　village。　His　own　sisters　and　brothers　in　the　happy　days　before　White　Murderer　Harrison　took　his　father's　life。
　　The　White　father；　Alvin　Miller；　came　out　to　the　privy。　Not　long　after；　the　boy　himself　came；　running；　as　if　he　was　afraid。　He　shouted　at　the　privy　door。　With　his　eye　open；　Lolla…Wossiky　only　knew　that　someone　was　standing　there；　shouting。　With　his　eye　closed；　he　saw　the　boy　clearly；　radiant；　and　heard　his　voice　like　birdsong　across　a　river；　all　music；　even　though　what　he　said　was　silly；　foolish；　like　a　child。
　　〃If　you　don't　e　out　I'll　do　it　right　in　front　of　the　door　so　you'll　step　in　it　when　you　e　out！〃
　　Then　silence；　as　the　boy　grew　more　worried；　hitting　himself　on　the　top　of　his　head　with　his　own　fist；　as　if　to　say；　Stupid；　stupid；　stupid。　Something　changed　in　Al　Junior's　expression；　Lolla…Wossiky　opened　his　eye　to　see　that　the　father　had　e　out；　was　saying　something。
　　The　boy　answered　him；　ashamed。　The　father　corrected　him。　Lolla…Wossiky　closed　his　eye。
　　〃Yes　sir；〃　said　the　boy。
　　Again　the　father　must　be　speaking；　but　with　his　eye　closed　Lolla…Wossiky　did　not　hear　the　father。
　　〃Sorry；　Papa。〃
　　Then　the　father　must　have　walked　away；　because　little　Alvin　went　into　the　privy。　Muttering；　so　soft　no　one　could　hear。　But　Lolla…Wossiky　heard。　〃Well；　if　you'd　just　build　another　outhouse　I'd　be　fine。〃
　　Lolla…Wossiky　laughed。　Foolish　boy；　foolish　father；　like　all　boys；　like　all　fathers。
　　The　boy　finished　and　went　into　the　house。
　　Here　I　am；　said　Lolla…Wossiky　silently。　I　followed　the　shining　path；　I　came　to　this　place；　I　saw　silly　White　family　things；　now　where　is　my　dream　beast？
　　And　again　he　saw　the　white　light　gather；　inside　the　house；　following　the　boy　up　the　stairs。　For　Lolla…Wossiky　there　were　no　walls。　He　saw　the　boy　being　very　careful；　as　if　he　were　watching　for　an　enemy；　for　some　attack。　When　he　reached　the　bedroom　he　ducked　inside；　closed　his　door　quickly　behind　him。　Lolla…Wossiky　saw　him　so　clearly　that　he　thought　he　could　almost　hear　his　thoughts；　and　then；　because　he　thought　it；　and　because　this　was　near　the　end　of　his　dream；　almost　to　the　time　of　waking；　he　did　hear　the　boy's　thoughts；　or　at　least　felt　his　feelings。　It　was　his　sisters　he　was　afraid　of。　A　silly　quarrel；　begun　with　teasing；　but　malicious　now　　he　was　afraid　of　their　vengeance。
　　It　came　as　he　stripped　off　his　clothes　and　pulled　his　nightshirt　over　his　head。　Stinging！　Insects；　thought　the　boy。　Spiders；　scorpions；　tiny　snakes！　He　pulled　the　nightshirt　off；　slapped　himself；　cried　out　from　the　pain；　the　surprise；　the　fear。
　　But　Lolla…Wossiky　could　feel　the　land　well　enough　to　know　there　were　no　insects。　Not　on　his　body；　not　in　the　shirt。　Though　there　were　many　living　creatures　there。　Small　life；　little　animals。　Roaches；　hundreds　of　them　living　in　the　walls　and　floors。
　　Not　in　all　the　walls　and　floors；　though。　Just　in　Alvin　Junior's　room。　All　gathered　to　his　room。
　　Was　it　enmity？　Roaches　were　too　small　for　hate。　They　knew　only　three　feelings；　those　little　creatures。　Fear；　hunger；　and　the　third　sense；　the　land　sense。　The　trust　in　how　things　ought　to　be。　Did　the　boy　feed　them？　No。　They　came　to　him　for　the　other　thing。　Lolla…Wossiky　could　hardly　believe　it；　but　he　felt　it　in　the　roaches　and　couldn't　doubt。　The　boy　had　called　them　somehow。　The　boy　had　the　land　sense；　at　least　enough　to　call　these　small　creatures。
　　Call　them　why？　Who　wanted　roaches？　But　he　was　only　a　boy。　There　didn't　have　to　be　sense　in　it。　Just　the　discovery　that　the　little　life　would　e　when　you　called　it。　Red　boys　learned　this；　but　always　with　their　father　or　a　brother；　always　out　on　the　first　hunt。　Kneel　and　speak　silently　to　the　life　you　need　to　take；　and　ask　it　if　this　is　a　good　time；　and　if　it　is　willing　to　die　to　make　your　life　strong。　Is　it　your　time　to　die？　asks　the　Red　boy。　And　if　the　life　consents；　it　will　e。
　　This　is　what　the　boy　did。　Except　it　wasn't　so　simple。　He　didn't　call　the　roaches　to　die　for　his　need；　because　he　had　no　need。　No；　he　called　them　and　kept　them　safe。　He　protected　them。　It　was　like　a　treaty。　There　were　certain　places　the　roaches　didn't　go。　Into　Alvin's　bed。　Into　his　little　brother　Calvin's　cradle。　Into　Alvin's　clothing；　folded　on　the　stool。　And　in　return　Alvin　nevcr　killed　them。　They　were　safe　in　his　room。　It　was　a　sanctuary；　a　reserve。　A　very　silly　thing；　a　child　playing　with　things　he　didn't　understand。
　　But　the　marvel　of　it　was　　this　was　a　White　boy；　doing　something　beyond　even　a　Red　man's　reach。　When　did　the　Red　man　ever　say　to　the　bear；　e　and　live　with　me　and　I　will　keep　you　safe？　When　did　the　bear　ever　believe　such　a　thing？　No　wonder　the　light　was　centered　on　this　boy。　This　wasn't　the　foolish　knack　of　the　White　man　Hooch；　or　even　the　strong　living　hexes　of　the　woman　Eleanor。　This　wasn't　the