osc.am2.redprophet-第61部分

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　　But　Alvin；　he　could　see　with　other　eyes；　inward　eyes；　the　way　he　studied　into　the　tiny　workings　of　the　human　body；　into　the　cold　inward　currents　of　stone。　And　with　that　hidden　vision　he　looked　into　a　single　thread　and　traced　its　shape；　following　how　the　fibers　wound　around　and　through；　twisting　and　gripping　each　other　to　make　the　strength　of　the　yarn。　This　time　he　could　just　keep　following　the　thread。　Just　keep　on　following　until　finally；　far　beyond　the　place　where　the　threads　all　disappeared　to　natural　eyes；　the　thread　ended。　Whosever　soul　that　thread　bespoke；　he　had　a　good　long　life　ahead　of　him；　before　he　died。
　　All　these　threads　must　end；　when　the　person　dies。　And　somehow　a　new　thread　must　start　up　when　a　baby　got　born。　Another　thread　ing　out　of　nowhere。
　　〃It　never　ends；〃　said　Becca。　〃I'll　grow　old　and　die；　Alvin；　but　the　cloth　will　go　on。〃
　　〃Do　you　know　which　thread　is　you？〃
　　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　want　to　know。〃
　　〃I　reckon　I'd　like　to　see。　I　want　to　know　how　many　years　I　got。〃
　　〃Many；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。　〃Or　few。　All　that　matters　is　what　you　do　with　however　many　years　you　have。〃
　　〃It　does　too　matter　how　long　I　live；〃　said　Alvin。　〃Don't　go　saying　it　don't；　cause　you　don't　believe　that　yourself。〃
　　Becca　laughed。
　　〃Miss　Becca；〃　said　Alvin；　〃what　do　you　do　this　for；　if　you　don't　make　things　happen？〃
　　She　shrugged。　〃It's　a　work。　Everybody　has　a　work　to　do；　and　this　is　mine。〃
　　〃You　could　go　out　and　weave　things　for　folks　to　wear。〃
　　〃To　wear　and　then　wear　out；〃　she　said。　〃And　no；　Alvin；　I　can't　go　out。〃
　　〃You　mean　you　stay　indoors　all　the　time？〃
　　〃I　stay　here；　always；〃　she　said。　〃In　this　room；　with　my　loom。〃
　　〃I　begged　you　once　to　go　with　me；〃　said　Isaac。
　　〃And　I　begged　you　once　to　stay。〃　She　smiled　up　at　him。
　　〃I　can't　live　forever　where　the　land　is　dead。〃
　　〃And　I　can't　live　a　moment　away　from　my　cloth。　The　way　the　land　lives　in　your　mind；　Isaac；　that　is　how　the　lives　of　all　the　souls　of　America　live　in　mine。　But　I　love　you。　Even　now。〃
　　Alvin　felt　like　he　shouldn't　be　there。　It　was　like　they　forgot　he　was　there；　even　though　he'd　just　been　talking　to　them。　It　finally　dawned　on　him　that　they'd　probably　rather　be　alone。　So　he　moved　away；　walked　over　to　the　cloth　again；　and　again　began　tracing　its　path；　the　opposite　direction　this　time；　scanning　quickly　but　carefully；　up　the　walls；　through　the　bolts　and　piles；　searching　for　the　earliest　end　of　the　cloth。
　　Couldn't　find　it。　In　fact；　he　must　have　been　looking　the　wrong　direction　or　got　himself　twisted　up；　because　pretty　soon　he　found　himself　on　the　same　familiar　path　he　had　followed；　the　path　that　first　led　him　to　the　loom。　He　reversed　direction；　and　after　a　short　time　he　found　himself　again　on　the　path　to　the　loom。　He　could　no　more　search　backward　to　find　the　oldest　end　of　the　cloth　than　he　could　search　forward　to　find　where　the　newest　threads　were　ing　from。
　　He　turned　again　to　Ta…Kumsaw　and　Becca。　Whatever　whispered　conversation　they　had　carried　on　was　over。　Ta…Kumsaw　sat　cross…legged　on　the　floor　in　front　of　her；　his　head　bowed。　She　was　stroking　his　hair　with　gentle　hands。
　　〃This　cloth　is　older　than　the　oldest　part　of　this　house；〃　said　Alvin。
　　Becca　didn't　answer。
　　〃This　cloth's　been　going　on　forever。〃
　　〃As　long　as　men　and　women　have　known　how　to　weave；　this　cloth　has　passed　through　the　loom。〃
　　〃But　not　this　loom。　This　loom's　new；〃　said　Alvin。
　　〃We　change　looms　from　time　to　time。　We　build　the　new　one　around　the　old。　It's　what　the　men　of　our　kind　do。〃
　　〃This　cloth　is　older　than　the　oldest　White　settlements　in　America；〃　said　Alvin。
　　〃It　was　once　a　part　of　a　larger　cloth。　But　one　day；　back　in　our　old　country；　we　saw　a　large　portion　of　the　threads　moving　off　the　edge　of　the　cloth。　My　great…great…great…great…great…great…grandfather　built　a　new　loom。　We　had　the　threads　we　needed。　They　pulled　away　from　the　old　cloth；　we　continued　it　from　there。　It's　still　connected　up　　that's　what　you're　seeing。〃
　　〃But　now　it's　here。〃
　　〃It's　here　and　there。　Don't　try　to　understand　it；　Alvin。　I　gave　up　long　ago。　But　isn't　it　good　to　know　that　all　of　the　threads　of　life　are　being　woven　into　one　great　cloth？〃
　　〃Who's　weaving　the　cloth　for　the　Red　folk　that　went　west　with　Tenskwa…Tawa？〃　asked　Alvin。　〃Those　threads　went　off　the　cloth。〃
　　〃That's　not　your　business；〃　said　Becca。　〃We'll　just　say　that　another　loom　was　built；　and　carried　west。〃
　　〃But　Ta…Kumsaw　said　no　White　folk　would　ever　cross　the　river　to　the　west。　The　Prophet　said　it；　too。〃
　　Ta…Kurnsaw　turned　slowly　on　the　floor；　without　getting　up。　〃Alvin；〃　he　said；　〃you're　only　a　boy〃
　　〃And　I　was　only　a　girl；〃　Becca　reminded　him；　〃when　I　first　loved　you。〃　She　turned　to　Alvin。　〃It's　my　daughter　who　carried　the　loom　into　the　west。　She　could　go　because　she's　only　half　White。〃　She　again　stroked　Ta…Kumsaw's　hair。　〃Isaac　is　my　husband。　My　daughter　Wieza　is　his　daughter。〃
　　〃Mana…Tawa；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃I　thought　for　a　time　that　Isaac　would　choose　to　stay　here；　to　live　with　us。　But　then　I　watched　as　his　thread　moved　away　from　us；　even　though　his　body　still　was　with　us。　I　knew　he　would　go　to　be　with　his　people。　I　knew　why　he　had　e　to　us；　alone　from　the　forest。　There　is　a　hunger　deeper　than　the　Red　man's　hunger　for　the　song　of　the　living　forest；　deeper　than　a　blacksmith's　yearning　for　the　hot　wet　iron；　deeper　even　than　a　doodlebug's　longing　for　the　hollow　heart　of　the　earth。　That　hunger　brought　Ta…Kumsaw　to　our　house。　My　mother　was　still　the　weaver　at　the　loom　then。　I　taught　Ta…Kumsaw　to　read　and　write；　he　rushed　through　my　father's　library；　and　read　every　other　book　in　the　valley；　and　we　sent　for　more　books　from　Philadelphia　and　he　read　those。　He　chose　his　own　name；　then；　for　the　man　who　wrote　the　Principia。　When　we　came　of　age；　he　married　me。　I　had　a　baby。　He　left。　When　Wieza　was　three；　he　came　back；　built　a　loom；　and　took　her　west　over　the　mountain　to　live　with　his　people。〃
　　〃And　you　let　your　own　daughter　go？〃
　　〃Just　like　one　of　my　ancestors　sat　at　her　old　loom　and　let　her　daughter　go；　across　the　ocean　to　this　land；　her　with　a　new　loom　and　her　watchful　father　beside　her；　yes；　I　let　her　go。〃　Becca　smiled　sadly　at　Alvin。　〃We　all　have　our　work；　but　there's　no　good　work　that　doesn't　have　its　cost。　By　the　time　Isaac　took　her；　I　was　already　in　this　room。　Everything　that　happened　has　been　good。〃
　　〃You　didn't　even　ask　how　your　daughter　was　doing　when　he　got　here！　You　still　haven't　asked。〃
　　〃I　didn't　have　to　ask；〃　said　Becca。　〃No　harm　es　to　the　keepers　of　the　loom。〃
　　〃Well；　if　your　daughter's　gone；　who's　going　to　take　your　place？〃
　　〃Perhaps　another　husband　will　e　here；　by　and　by。　One　who'll　stay　in　this　house；　and　make　another　loom　for　me；　and　yet　another　for　a　daughter　not　yet　born。〃
　　〃And　what　happens　to　you　then？〃
　　〃So　many　questions；　Alvin；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。　But　his　voice　was　soft　and　tired　and　English…sounding；　Alvin　wasn't　in　awe　of　the　Ta…Kumsaw　who　read　White　men's　books；　and　so　he　paid　no　heed　to　the　mild　rebuke。
　　〃What　happens　to　you　when　your　daughter　takes　your　place？〃
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Becca。　〃But　the　story　is　that　we　go　to　the　place　where　the　threads　e　from。〃
　　〃What　do　you　do　there？〃
　　〃We　spin。〃
　　Alvin　tried　to　imagine　Becca's　mother；　and　her　grandmother；　and　the　women　before　that；　all　in　a　line；　he　tried　to　imagine　how　many　there'd　be；　all　of　them　working　their　spinning　wheels；　winding　out　threads　from　the　spindle；　yarn　all　raw　and　white；　which　would　just　go　somewhere；　go　on　and　disappear　somewhere　until　it　broke。　Or　maybe　when　it　broke　they　held　the　whole　thing；　a　whole　human　life；　in　their　hands；　and　then　tossed　it　upward　until　it　was　caught　by　a　passing　wind；　and　then　dropped　down　and　got　snagged　up　in　somebody's　loom。　A　life　afloat　on　the　wind；　then　caught　and　woven　into　the　cloth　of　humanity；　born　at　some　arbitrary　time；　then　struggling　to　find　its　way　into　the　fabric；　weaving　into　the　strength　of　it。
　　And　as　he　imagined　this；　he　also　imagined　that　he　understood　something　about　that　fabric。　About　the　way　it　grew　stronger　the　more　tightly　woven　in　each　thread　became。　The　ones　that　skipped　about　over　the　top　of　the　cloth；　dipping　into　the　weft　only　now　and　then；　they　added　little　to　the　strength；　though　much　to　the　color；　of　the　cloth。　While　some　whose　color　hardly　showed　at　all；　they　were　deeply　wound　among　the　threads；　holding　all　together。　There　was　a　goodness　in　those　hidden　binding　threads。　Forever　from　then　on；　Alvin　would　see　some　quiet　man　or　woman；　little　noticed　and　hardly　thought　of　by　others；　who　nevertheless　went　a…weaving　through　the　life　of　village；　town；　or　city；　binding　up；　holding　on；　and　Alvin　would　silently　salute　such　folk；　and　do　them　homage　in　his　heart；　because　he　knew　how　their　lives　kept　the　cloth　strong；　the　weave　tight。
　　He　also　remembered　the　many　threads　that　ended　at　the　point　where　Ta…Kumsaw's　battle　was　to　take　place。　It　was　as　if　Ta…Kumsaw　had　taken　shears　to　the　cloth。
　　〃Ain't　there'a　way　to　heal　things　up？〃　asked　Alvin。　〃Ain't　there　a　hope　of　keeping　this　battle　from　ever　happening；　so　those　threads　don't　all　get　broke？〃
　　Becca　shook　her　head。　〃Even　if　Isaac　refused　to　go；　the　battle　would　take　place　without　h