John Crow's Devil (20 page)
“Miraculous healing, Clarence. Miraculous healing.” Clarence tried to speak but the Apostle touched his lips and silenced him. York grabbed the tails of Clarence’s shirt and pulled them up. He did not want to see snakes, but he could not move. The Apostle raised a hand mirror to Clarence’s face and as he saw his back, his jaw fell. There were no snakes. His back was healing itself through the grooves of his wounds. The cuts closed like zippers and disappeared in the smoothness of his skin. He cried as his back left no trace of the whipping.
“Miraculous healing, Clarence. Do you want it?”
Clarence stared at his back in disbelief. The Apostle threw away the mirror.
“Follow me and I can lead you beyond pain, beyond sin, beyond miracles. I am the way, Clarence. I am the way. Beyond every single thing you thought about yourself. Beyond normal, beyond real. Every time you use this, this snake in your pants, you think you’re killing the Devil inside you. You know of which Devil I speak. The Devil you’ve been trying to kill since you were twelve. The Devil in you that was stealing looks between my legs just now when I was sitting in front of you. You’ll never kill it. Not through pain, not through sin. No matter how many times you come inside a woman, you’ll never kill your heart’s real desire.”
The Apostle touched Clarence’s crotch again, but this time he did not make a fist.
“Lucinda, tell them to go to the Johnson’s house,” the Apostle said while peering from the cracked door. “Oh, and Lucinda, tell them to carry cutlasses.”
When The Five got to the Johnson’s, the door was already open. Inside was dark, with the doorway at the back of the house an oblong of light. They passed through the house and followed the light outside. On the bottom step was Mrs. Johnson, her back bleeding and her arms wrapped around herself. She rocked back and forth, humming what sounded like a hymn. The breeze whispered through the trees, and looking up, they saw the reason for the cutlass. Swinging from a rope that hung from a high branch was Mr. Johnson, dressed for combat in his camouflage uniform from the World War. His arms were still and his neck was squeezed tight in a noose. At the foot of the tree, a blue stool was toppled over. The breeze whispered again and his body swung, agreeing.
C
hurch was full. At 8:30 at night there was no moon. Most came because of the miracle. The Rum Preacher had killed the Apostle, they said. He was dead, but then he came back on the third day, Lucinda would testify. She could do no less, the man was within her. Down the road, the Widow’s house merged with the darkness. No candle was lit. The Widow had not seen the Rum Preacher since the day he woke up. He had bolted his door from the inside.
The organist played one hymn on the battered instrument. This was no time for praise and worship, the word was too crucial tonight. Nobody could get a hint out of Lucinda, or The Five. Secrets seemed to brim in Clarence, a surprise to most. He seemed to have received a miracle himself even though he would not testify. Clarence was on the pulpit, somewhere Lucinda was never allowed, and this struck many as most curious. He was dressed in Sunday clothes, his black suit and gray shirt with tan buttons that matched his skin. But he was a distraction, not who they’d come to see.
And there he was. Nobody saw him emerge. His black and red robes billowed though there was no wind. His hair was brushed back off his face. He spread his arms wide and the organist played a flourish.
“Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”
“Consuming fire! Consuming fire!”
“Praise the Lord.”
“Saints,” York shouted, “I’ve come back to you! The Devil came to steal, kill, and destroy, but
No
! Say it after me …
No
!”
“NO!”
“NO!”
“That’s what I told the Devil in the pit of darkness. I told him I reject the death from sin and embrace the life of the Father. The abomination tried to snuff out the faithful, but Praise the Lord, I’m still here! I’m still here! I’m still here.
“And so are you. But oh, did he try to smite your Apostle. Oh sacara-janga-hosepha, did he and his demons try to slay your appointed one. And he did, but by grace of God, I just beat him back. Vixton, you should have seen me. I just go so … batter him with the shield of faith, then I buck him with the helmet of salvation, then you know what I do next? You know what I do? I just slay him with the sword of the spirit.”
“Hallelujah!”
“Praise the Lord!”
“Consuming fire!”
“Sicorsa-rakatok!”
“But—” the Apostle said softly.
“Praise the—”
“I said BUT! He slayed me too. But praise the Lord. Where is the Preacher now, eh? Death, where is your sting?”
“Hallelujah!”
“Praise the Lord!”
“Now listen to me carefully. When I was sleeping the Lord showed me new things. New revelation like John. Gibbeah, I told you that this is war. We are fighting war. Every man and woman must put on the armor. Who ready to slay for the Lord? Who ready to usher in the Kingdom? The Lord showed me when I was dead. It’s time for Gibbeah to get serious or it shall perish.”
“No, Apostle, no!”
“Our Father in Heaven—”
“Who here want to perish? Who here really want to roast in the lake of fire, eh? That is where Gibbeah heading. That is where you heading tonight if you don’t come back to the Lord. I said it before and I’ll say it again. If your hand offends, you cut it off. If you eye seeing sin, cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! Oh, I know I preaching to somebody tonight, Hallelujah.
“Gibbeah, the Lord is vengeful but He is also merciful. We can have Heaven right here on Earth. Wouldn’t you like to have Heaven on Earth, Mrs. Fracas? Who don’t want Paradise, raise your hand. What if I told you that God has shown me how Gibbeah can have Paradise? Do you want Paradise? You, Mrs. Smithfield, do you want Paradise? You at the back, how about you? My ladies at the front, do you want Paradise?”
“Hallelujah!”
“Well, you can have Paradise. God is going to give Heaven to you. God is going to give it to you tonight. But you must be ready. Tonight I’m going to show you how to get ready. Touch the person beside you and say get ready. Now touch them and say the Lord is in this house. Good. Good.
“Good. Get ready. The first thing we’re going to do is kill all distraction in Gibbeah. So from tonight we having worship every night. Touch the person beside you and say every night. From tonight I don’t want any family to sit together. I don’t want brother beside sister, I don’t want husband beside wife. I don’t want anybody distracted from God’s work by carnal things. I don’t want anybody distracted by which rent to pay and which child need a spanking. Besides, everybody in this church is a brother or a sister, we are all family.
“I expect everybody in church, every night. God doesn’t care if you’re sick. Come to the church and get healing, Hallelujah. Some nights I want the men alone to worship as brothers and some nights I want the women alone to worship as sisters. And I said it before and I’ll say it again. The Devil is prowling like a roaring lion, looking for people to devour. I don’t want to see any strange face in Gibbeah again. The next person to cross that bridge will be the Devil in disguise, mark my word. And if we let the Devil pass, you’ll have a lot more than two calves to deal with. You know who the Devil coming for? Your babies. He’s gunning for you like a German tank. He’s seen the good that the Lord is doing and wants to snatch it for himself. But what do we say when the Devil come to steal? What do we say? I’m not hearing you? That’s right. NO!
“You have all seen the miracles. You have all seen the signs and wonders. You have seen the resurrection. That’s because I am the resurrection.
“I am the resurrection! I am the vicar of God. Nobody can come to Him unless through me. I saved you from witchcraft. I broke the curse on Gibbeah. I banished all demons back to Hell. The Loooooord is in my hands. Look and tremble!”
R
iddle we this and riddle we that. Guess we this riddle or perhaps not. Jack Sprat could eat no fat. So the Devil come take him and that was that.
So who judgment goin fall pon next?
Who?
Pon who judgment goin fall?
Who?
Could a be she, could a you.
No true.
If not she, then a who?
You?
Judgment fall pon the Majestic where nuff sin did show. Judgment come with fire and brimstone and now we not goin have no more Devil picture show. Satan come like a roaring lion, but God roar louder and Majestic fall in fire.
Judge them two by two.
Who?
Judge them two by two.
Judgment come from the white throne. Judgment fall pon Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. She the whore of Babylon who get discipline right. Now her back have scar like spider web.
She give up the pokie to another man.
Soil the marriage bed with adultery.
She goin burn in Hell where them goin shove pitchfork in her pokie. Hallelujah, praise the Almighty, cause Him judge with fury. And her husband dead like Judas. The Lord is vengeful but the Lord is merciful. Clarence get vengeance, then him get mercy.
Clarence and the Apostle, closer than a brother.
Two is two is two.
Judgment fall pon the Contraptionist long before. Him cocky turn friend with cow pokie. Judgment come down with lightning and thunder. Leviticus Twenty, verse fifteen.
Judgment fall pon Massa Fergie. The Contraptionist partner in sin-nery. By their fruit we know who them be. Lightning expose him sinnery. If a man lie with beast, he shall surely be put to death.
And ye shall slay the beast.
One man deh with cow, then two.
Judge them two by two.
Judgment goin fall pon them who did take seat with the Rum Preacher.
Them was six, and six is three times two.
Judge them two by two.
Judgment goin fall pon the Rum Preacher and the Widow whore. Them in the house doin sin. Them in the house taking order from Beelzebub. The white throne of judgment goin crash pon them roof. It goin smash everything asunder.
Judgment goin come pon the Rum Preacher for all iniquity that him bring with him. Judgment goin come for what him do to the Apostle.
The Rum Preacher strike and kill the Apostle. But the Apostle rise after three day. Evil get beat by good, black get beat by white. The Apostle is the way, the truth, and the light. The Lord goin send signs and wonders. The Lord goin exalt the Apostle and put him on the right hand of God. The Rum Preacher goin be wailing with gnashing of teeth.
And the Widow too.
Judge them two by two.
But the biggest judgment that ever goin fall, goin fall on the black house. The house of Sodom where Gibbeah pitch tent. The house of sin where rivers of damnation flow. Is through him that all sin come. From in him and out him, all sin be.
The one them call Mr. Garvey.
Fire pon him cause him fuck batty.
Fire pon him cause him think him better than we.
Fire pon him because it easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God.
The Lord have judgment for the rich too.
Is not we to judge, not me not you.
We no know what a go on. The Apostle don’t say nothing bout that house yet.
But sin must come from it or the house wouldn’t be black.
See them John Crows how them line up on him roof.
Judgment coming to smite the house down.
The John Crow know.
Him have six nephew who don’t look like him.
And them never grow up, what a thing.
Man mustn raise boy, is mother them need.
Him sin like Onan and throw way him seed.
But is rich man things, so make we see what God goin do.
When judgment come pon him, judgment goin come true.
Judge the sodomite and the Rum Preacher.
Judge them two by two.
So who judgment goin fall pon next?
Who?
Pon who judgment goin fall?
Who?
Could a be me, could a you.
T
he Apostle made a proclamation for the extermination of all bovines by axe and fire. Since nobody understood the proclamation, including Clarence who went to the crossroads to proclaim it, the Apostle issued another one. All cows and goats were to be slaughtered and burnt before Sunday; swine would be spared. The first was a stubborn kill, a bull whose life and will were as joined as sin and consequence, Sodom and Gomorrah. The bull had seen enough of humans to pay them no heed, but snorted when he caught the murderous glimmer of cutlasses and axes. The first took a swing, missed, turned to run, and was gored straight up the ass, then tossed like an old flower. The second struck as a midnight thief, chopping off the tail and crippling its balance. Another struck the bull’s left hind leg and he collapsed. Chops fell upon the bull like rain.
The Widow left his door alone. She had sat facing it all night, falling asleep in her armchair and waking as her chin struck her chest. She stared at the door’s deep blue through the haze of her barely awake eyes and thought of the Rum Preacher who probably hadn’t slept. He would be writing on the floor even now, or perhaps on his skin. There was no coming back—he was mad as Hell. But he was hers now and she felt like a mother and a lover whenever she allowed herself to. Most times the Widow reached for a cynicism and scorn that she could barely conjure. She tried to hate but hate came out as pity, she spoke a curse but curse came out as prayer. He was inside her. She hated him, she thought, as all women must hate the men who undid them. Who was he, this bastard who came into her house with so little and now had even less? But that less included her heart, even though she would never admit such a thing. A man who lost his mind was like one who lost his life; unable to hurt or promise. But he had hurt her. Pain came in waves through the promise of the light blue door. Was he writing about her? Outside, children awoke to the scream of goats.
She made him breakfast, knowing it would be left uneaten and waited until 11 o’clock. The Widow Greenfield was going to see the Apostle. She knew he was strong where Bligh was weak, so maybe he would listen to her plea. She ignored the trees and wind that whispered her folly. The street was empty, but at the church doorway, as if waiting, was Lucinda.
