John Crow's Devil (11 page)

“But it has everything to do with this, you uncouth negro.”

The Apostle continued to circle the Pastor as he spoke, but then stopped right in front of him. Close enough for Bligh to see the scar below the Apostle’s lip.

“You think that because your clothes are washed clean suddenly your soul is white as snow? You think purity comes from washing soap? Why don’t we all do it like you, Hector? Here we are sanctifying ourselves before the Lord, covering ourselves in the blood of the lamb, when all we needed to do was take a bath. But I believe your story, you know, Bligh. I think he just tripped. Ever hear a neck break, Bligh? You think there would be a crunch because of bone, but it’s almost like when you snap a carrot.

“Thwock!”

The crowd jumped. The Apostle’s face was less than a foot from the Rum Preacher. He whispered.

“But I’m sure he forgives you. I’m sure the woman would write a letter to you right now, if she could get two sentences out without crapping herself. Did you know she was in Bellevue? Stop making a spectacle of yourself. Please. I could let this town know all about you, but you know what? Even I believe in redemption, Bligh, and you’re an old man. Show some dignity and stop embarrassing God.” The Apostle York turned his back to him and walked to the church. Mid-stride he turned around, smirking.

“Besides,” he shouted, “I’m sure we can find some way to occupy you in church! Maybe a broom to sweep the floor. You’re already doing it with your arse.” The man in black walked away while the man in white held his ground.

Lucinda followed behind the Apostle quickly, stopping once to glare at Bligh.

“Ye are of your father, the Devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do,”
spoke the Rum Preacher.

The man in black stopped.

“He was a murderer from the beginning and abode not in truth, because there is no truth in him.”

“Bligh.”

“When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh his own: for he is a liar and the father of lies.”

“Hector Bligh, by all that’s Holy.”

“Not a damn thing bout you Holy, but I know you.”

“I serve the way and the truth and the light,” countered the Apostle.

“Your light blacker than black. I know you.”

“You know me? What do you think you know? Half of your mind you already burn away with liquor. You who throw your dung on God’s altar. Backward Kingston boy lost in country, what do you think you know?”

“I know bout your red books and your black books. And I know why you come here.”

“Rhetoric, rhetoric, so much rhetoric. Tell me, does God have His hand up your arse? You being a dummy, I figured, but God a ventriloquist? This is new. You’re mad, Bligh. Such a sad development. There was a time when people smiled when they spoke of you. Now they laugh.”

“Then let them laugh. Who laugh last, laugh best. Soon there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth. But I will deal with you first.”

“Deal with me? You know who I am? You—”

“I know who you come for.”

“Bligh. Don’t come near this church again or I’ll—”

“Ephesians Two, verse twenty. Ephesians Three, verse five.”

“Bligh.”

“Second Peter One, verse twelve to fifteen.”

“I swear I will …”

“Jes—”

The Pastor hit the ground before the Apostle felt the spit and blood on his own knuckles. He raised his hand to punch Bligh again but stopped suddenly and turned away laughing. He laughed all the way back into church and closed the doors. They swung open and he grabbed them quickly, forcing them shut.

777

I
t was soon coming Easter.

The Apostle tell we to chop down plenty coconut leaf, cause the next Sunday is Palm Sunday. Him goin make the pickneys put on show right in the church! We no see so much excitement since Miss Fracas dog give birth to cat. Anyway, it was soon coming Easter.

Everywhere did lay down with coconut leaf. From the pulpit, right down the aisle, all the way out the door, down the step, and out the road. Some of we who never used go to church now go every Sunday cause you know you goin see signs and wonders! We see man who couldn’t talk, talk, and man who couldn’t walk, walk. Is Jesus Christ Himself who send the Apostle to Gibbeah.

The Apostle tell we to sit down. But that is lie, him never tell we. All him do is look at we and we know. That is how the Apostle good! Him know we before we know we! When him want people to do something, him just look pon them a certain way and them do it quick. Anyway, we sit down and the old man who play organ start play. Then Lucinda get up and run to the door. She waving her hand and telling somebody to come inside.

Coo pon the show! As soon as she step aside, the first two come in wearing pretty purple cloth, the expensive one that the shop have to order and take three week to come. Then two more little pickney come in. Them have candle in them hand and sheet over them head that tie round the forehead. Them look like little angel. Two more come in and still two more, a girl and a boy. You should a see what come next! A big boy come in the church pulling something behind him with rope. Him pull and pull, him even cuss pon the quiet, but the rope don’t budge. Then him make one almighty pull and lo and behold, is donkey him pulling into the church! People start clapping like clapping goin out of style. And who fi deh pon the donkey, but the nicest, sweetest, prettiest, beautifullest little boy. We did think that only Mr. Garvey nephews did so cute with nice skin and pretty hair, until we see say is wig the boy was wearing. A long brown wig on him head and cotton balls pon him chin fi make him look like Jesus. Talk bout excitement!

All of them line up at front of the church and start to sing My Cup Is a Running Over. The Apostle wave to the choir and everybody start singing too, but the little Jesus was the loudest voice. Is was the sweetest thing! So sweet that we never hear him right away, but then little by little some of we notice that one sound wasn’t goin along with the music. Is then another wave start roll over the church. This wave did tell you say something did wrong and was getting wronger. In no time all church did quiet cept for the little Jesus who nobody did tell fi shut up. Soon is was just the two of them, the Jesus boy singing My Cup Is a Running Over at the front and the Rum Preacher screaming bout the pit of Hellfire and damnation at the back. Him come in when everybody was looking at the pickneys, so nobody see him. Now him standing in the middle of the church aisle and pointing to the pulpit.

And Jesus asked him, saying, What is thy name? And he said, Legion, for we are many!

Those of we who did in front see the Apostle face go from pretty to ugly. Him scream out like the roaring lion and look straight at Pastor Bligh. Apostle York head turn red, like pig that choke and dead. Him vex! Him point at the choir and they start sing real loud. The whole o we turning head from left to right, cause one minute the choir a swoop up the chorus, then the next minute the Rum Preacher a burn up the back.

We perplex. After all, everybody did know Bligh when him did fenke-fenke, but here him look strappin, like David with a slingshot. And him loud! This couldn’t be the same man who pee-pee himself and make demon girl beat him down. Is couldn’t him. This man who we seeing now, nobody could a drive him out o him own church. But there him be. Even people who know say the Apostle come from holy Jesus Christ Himself start listen to the Preacher.

The Rum Preacher talkin bout woe this and woe that and woe to the man through who they come, but seeing him was enough. In him white jacket and white shirt and white pants. The sun sneak in and him blast open with light. Then all that white surround with black. Apostle York command The Five to grab the Rum Preacher. One grab him right hand and one grab him left shoulder. The Rum Preacher kick out but them catch him two foot and drag him out o the church. All the time, the Rum Preacher shouting and screaming and Hellfiring bout a man who need deliverance and who writing demon doctrine. Some say is accident, some say them do it on purpose. But all five of them crash into the wall near the doorway and the Rum Preacher head slam into it like battering ram. The Preacher quiet after that.

Outside, the Preacher in the middle of the road and him didn’t move. Him white suit did cover all over with black. Him roll over and try to get up, but crouch down low. Inside, the Apostle talkin bout how him disobey God Himself by inviting that abomination back into the church when First Corinthians clearly say we must expel the immoral brother. The Apostle say that God already pass judgment pon the drunken bastard and is our duty to leave God work to God and hand the man over to the Devil.

“Beloved,” said the Apostle, “turn with me to Exodus Chapter Twenty:

Honor your father and your mother so that your days will be long in the land the Lord is giving you.
Say that with me again.
Honor your father and your mother so that your days will be long in the land the Lord is giving you.

The Apostle closed his book and grasped the podium with both hands.

“Who is a father?

“Come. Let’s check the scriptures deeply. King Saul, a terrible king, yes, but how bad a father could he be if he raised Jonathan? Now we have King David. Everybody loves King David but lo and behold, as Mrs. Fracas would say, his own son tried to kill him. How about Samuel, who spent so much time prophesying over people’s sons that he couldn’t even see his own sons growing into liars, thieves, and perverts. How about Joseph, father to the Son of God and he didn’t even notice his son was missing until three days later.

“Here is the truth. You don’t need a father or a mother. Let me say this again. You don’t need a father or a mother. All you need is the Heavenly Father. And another thing. I don’t want anybody to call the Lord’s name in this church. Oh, you’re quiet now. Let me say it again. I don’t want anybody to call the Lord’s name in this church. Who can tell me why? Why would I forbid calling the name under which all demons tremble? Well, let me ask you a question … Vixton, what is your father’s name?”

Vixton, along with the rest of The Five, was already standing.

“Adolphus, Apostle.”

“Tell me, Vixton, what do you call him?”

“Nothing that me can say in church, Apostle.”

Some laughed until they saw the Apostle’s face. “There’s a season for laughter and that season is not today. Vixton, seriously, what do you call your father?”

“Well … ah … Papa or Mr. Dixon or P when his ear take him and him can’t hear much.”

“Why not Adolphus?”

“Because …”

“Because he is the head and not the tail, the ruler, not the follower. Because he is the father, you show him due respect. Due respect. So tell me something, Vixton. If you show your earthly father so much respect, how much more should you show your Heavenly Father? Calling God by his first name like you and Him is size. Listen to me, cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! Until you can show me, until you can show God that you are more than babes in Christ, I want everybody to address the Father as the Father. He is not your son, or your friend, or your lover. He is your master, and me? I’m just like you. I am His serv—”

Before he could finish, singing disrupted church. The Rum Preacher was outside in the exact spot where he had been beaten and dumped the Sunday previous, singing “Rock of Ages.” His voice was thunderous, full of blood and melancholy. The Apostle heard his song and felt the hatred of Cain for the Preacher, newly able. York pointed at the choir, who erupted into “God Is a Good God.” The chorus rose above the song of the Rum Preacher and consumed it. But as soon as the choir’s song sputtered to a close, there was Hector Bligh, his voice rising. A few in the church began humming with him. The Apostle pushed away the podium in a rage and it fell, sending books skidding across the floor. Nobody dared speak. York pushed open the church doors.

Outside, the Preacher and the Apostle were face to face, separated by yards, years, and ever-mounting animosity. The Rum Preacher kept on singing, his notes rising and falling with the hymn. He looked younger. He seemed to have a new strength, and nobody knew where it came from, though some thought the bed of the Widow Greenfield. The Apostle had no time for Lucinda’s rumors. He turned away from the Preacher but stood in the doorway. Those who had turned to look turned back.

Hector Bligh stood firm. But gray spots blotted out his sunlight, moving left, right, and in circles. He looked up and saw a mass swirling of black that broke away when the John Crows scattered. “Rock of Ages” led to “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Three of the birds landed and met the Pastor with a gaze. Bligh sung. The first flapped his wings and took off, then the second and the third. They rose to a low height, no higher than the steeple of the church, then folded their wings and dove straight for the Pastor. Bligh clutched his heart, closed his eyes, and kept on singing.

The Apostle, his back to the road, folded both arms behind him and rubbed his knuckles. The Pastor’s voice had vanished amidst the scream of vultures. When the Apostle turned around his jaw fell so far that he grabbed his chin to prevent spit escaping. The Pastor was on his knees, in the middle of Hanover Road, with his eyes closed but his arms wide open. Before him, behind him, around him, all the way up to the church steps and down Hanover Road, were dead vultures. John Crows with necks broken, heads crushed, and wings ripped away. The Pastor was praying in a circle of untouched road as the sky drizzled black feathers and blood.