He wagged his head and his lips broke in a slow sick smile. Whut she know erbout bein hongry? Whut she know erbout it? He walked again, thinking, Here Ah is a man called by Gawd t preach n whut kin Ah do? Hongry folks lookin t me fer hep n whut kin Ah do? Ah done tried everthing n cant do nuthin! Shucks, mabbe Hadley n Greens right? They might be right. Gawd knows, they might be right.

  He lifted his head and saw the wide fields plunging before him, down the hillside. The grass was dark and green. All this! he thought. All this n folks hongry! Good Gawd, whuts wrong! He saw the road running before him, winding, vanishing, the soft yellow dust filled with the ruts of wagon wheels and tiny threads of auto tires. He threw back his head and spoke out loud:

  “The good Lawds gonna clean up this ol worl some day! Hes gonna make a new Heaven n a new Earth! N Hes gonna do it in a eye-twinkle change! Hes gotta do it! Things cant go on like this ferever! Gawd knows they cant!” He pulled off his coat and slung it under his left arm. “Waal, there ain nothin t do but go back n tell em…. Tell em the white folks wont let em eat….”

  The road curved, descending among the green fields that tumbled to a red sky. This was the land on which the Great God Almighty had first let him see the light of His blessed day. This was the land on which he had first taken unto himself a wife, leaving his mother and father to cleave to her. And it was on the green slopes of these struggling hills that his first-born son, Jimmy, had romped and played, growing to a strong, upright manhood. He wagged his head, musing: Lawd, them wuz the good ol days…. There had been plenty to eat; the blessings of God had been overflowing. He had toiled from sunup to sundown, and in the cool of the evenings his wife, May, had taught him to read and write. Then God had spoken to him, a quiet, deep voice coming out of the black night; God had called him to preach His word, to spread it to the four corners of the earth, to save His black people. And he had obeyed God and had built a church on a rock which the very gates of Hell could not prevail against. Yes, he had been like Moses, leading his people out of the wilderness into the Promised Land. He sighed, walking and taking his coat from his left arm and tucking it under his right. Yes, things had been clear-cut then. In those days there had stretched before his eyes a straight and narrow path and he had walked in it, with the help of a Gracious God. On Sundays he had preached God’s Word, and on Mondays and Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays he had taken old Bess, his mule, and his plow and had broke God’s ground. For a moment while walking through the dust and remembering his hopes of those early years he seemed to feel again the plow handles trembling in his calloused hands and hear the earth cracking and breaking open, black, rich and damp; it seemed he could see old Bess straining forward with the plow, swishing her tail and tossing her head and snorting now and then. Yes, there had been something in those good old days when he had walked behind his plow, between the broad green earth and a blue sweep of sunlit sky; there had been in it all a surge of will, clean, full, joyful; the earth was his and he was the earth’s; they were one; and it was that joy and will and oneness in him that God had spoken to when He had called him to preach His Word, to save His black people, to lead them, to guide them, to be a shepherd to His flock. But now the whole thing was giving way, crumbling in his hands, right before his eyes. And every time he tried to think of some way out, of some way to stop it, he saw wide grey eyes behind icily white spectacles. He mopped his brow again. Mabbe Hadley n Greens right…. Lawd, Ah don know whut t do! Ef Ah fight fer things the white folk say Ahma bad nigger stirrin up trouble. N ef Ah don do nothin, we starve…. But somethings gotta be done! Mabbe ef we hada demonstration like Hadley n Green said, we could scare them white folks inter doin something….

  He looked at the fields again, half-wistfully, half-curiously. Lawd, we could make them ol fiels bloom ergin. We could make em feed us. Thas whut Gawd put em there fer. Plows could break and hoes could chop and hands could pick and arms could carry…. On and on that could happen and people could eat and feel as he had felt with the plow handles trembling in his hands, following old Bess, hearing the earth cracking and breaking because he wanted it to crack and break; because he willed it, because the earth was his. And they could sing as he had sung when he and May were first married; sing about picking cotton, fishing, hunting, about sun and rain. They could…. But whuts the use thinkin erbout stuff like this? Its all gone now…. And he had to go and tell his congregation, the folks the Great God Almighty had called him to lead to the Promised Land—he had to tell them that the relief would give them no food.

  That morning he had sent a committee of ten men and women from his congregation to see the mayor. Wondah how they come out? The mayor tol em something, sho! So fer hes been pretty wid me even ef he is a white man. As his feet sank softly into the dust he saw Mayor Bolton; he saw the red chin that always had a short, black stubble of beard; he saw the cigar glowing red in front of a pink, fat face. But he needs something t scare im now, he thought. Hes been runnin over us too long….

  He reached the bottom of the slope, turned into a cinder path, and approached the huts. N Lawd, when Ah do try t do somethin mah own folks wont stan by me, wont stick wid me. Theres ol Deacon Smith a-schemin n a-plottin, jus a-watching me lika hawk, jus a-waitin fer me t take mah eyes off the groun sos he kin trip me up, sos he kin run t the white folks n tell em Ahm doin somethin wrong! A black snake in the grass! A black Judas! Thas all he is! Lawd, the Devils sho busy in this worl….

  He was walking among the crowded huts now.

  hello reveren

  “How yuh tonight, sonny!” Let ol Deacon Smith tell it, no matter whut Ah do, Ahm wrong….

  good evenin reveren

  “Good evenin, Sistah!” Hes been a-tryin t cheat me outta mah church ever since hes been erroun here….

  how yuh tonight reveren taylor

  “Jus fine. N how yuh tonight, Brother?” Hes awways a-whisperin berhin mah back, a-tryin t take mah congregation erway from me…. N when he ain doin that hes a-tryin his bes t give me wrong advice, jus like the Devil a-tryin t tempt Jesus. But Ahma gonna march on wida hepa Gawd…. Yeah, Ah might preach a sermon erbout tha nex Sunday.

  As he turned into the street leading to his home and church, he saw a tall brown-skinned boy hurrying towards him. Here comes Jimmy! Ah bet hes lookin fer me…. Lawd, Ah hope ain nothin wrong….

  II

  “Pa!” said Jimmy breathlessly when he was some twenty feet away.

  Taylor stopped.

  “Whuts the mattah, son?”

  Jimmy came close.

  “The mayors at home, waitin t see yuh,” he whispered.

  “The mayor?”

  “Yeah, n two mo white men. One of em is the Chiefa Police.”

  “They there now?”

  “Yeah; in the parlor.”

  “How long they been there?”

  “Bout two-three minutes, Ah reckon. N lissen, Pa… Sam wuz by jus now. He say the white folks is ridin up n down the streets in their cars warnin all the black folks t stay off the streets cause theres gonna be trouble….”

  “Sam say tha?”

  “Thas whut he tol me. N lissen, Pa… Ahma git Sam n Pete n Bob n Jack n some mo boys together sos ef anything happens….”

  Taylor gripped Jimmy’s shoulders.

  “Naw, son! Yuh fixin t git us all inter trouble now! Yuh cant do nothing like tha! Yuh gotta be careful! Ef them white folks jus thought we wuz doin something like that theyd crack down on us! Wed have riot!”

  “But we cant let em ride erroun n talk big n we do nothin!”

  “Lissen here, son! Yuh do whut Ah tell yuh t do!” He shook Jimmy’s shoulders and his voice was husky. “Yuh go tell them boys t do nothin till Ah see em, yuh hear me? Yuh young fools fixin t git us all murdered!”

  “We jus as waal git killed fightin as t git killed doin nothin,” said Jimmy sullenly.

  “Yuh go n do whut Ah tol yuh, hear me? Ah gotta go n see tha mayor….”

  “Hes here t see yuh erbo
ut tha demonstration,” said Jimmy.

  “How yuh know?”

  “Cause thas whut everybodys sayin.”

  “Who yuh hear say tha?”

  “Deacon Smiths spreadin the word.”

  Taylor winced as though struck by a blow and looked at the dust.

  “Hes tellin alla deacons n the church mambas tha the mayors here t stop yuh,” said Jimmy. “Hes tellin em yuhs mixed up wid the Reds.”

  “Deacon Smith there now, too?”

  “Yeah; hes in the basement wida other deacons. Theys waitin t see yuh.”

  “How long they been there?”

  “Bout hafa hour. N Hadley n Greens in the Bible Room, waitin t talk wid yuh, too….”

  Fear gripped Taylor and he stammered:

  “Ddddid the mmmmayor ssssee em?”

  “Naw, ain nobody seen em yit. Ah brought em in thu the back do and tol em t wait fer yuh. Ahm mighty scared wid them Reds waitin fer yuh in the Bible Room and tha Chiefa Police waitin fer yuh in the parlor. Ef ol Deacon Smith knowed tha he sho would make a lotta trouble….”

  “Where yo ma?”

  “She upstairs, sewin.”

  “She know whuts happenin?”

  “Naw, Pa.”

  Taylor stood still, barely breathing.

  “Whut yuh gonna do, Pa?” asked Jimmy.

  “Yuh go n tell them boys not t do nothin wrong, son. Go on n tell em now! Ah got too much on mah hans now widout yuh boys stirrin up mo trouble!”

  “Yessuh.”

  “Yuh bettah go n do it now!”

  “Yessuh.”

  He watched Jimmy hurry down the street. Lawd, Ah hope tha boy don go n git inter trouble….

  “Yuh do whut Ah tol yuh, Jimmy!” he yelled.

  “Yessuh!” Jimmy hollered back.

  He saw Jimmy turn a dusty corner, and go out of sight. Hadley n Greens there in the Bible Room n the Chiefa Police is waitin in the parlor! Ah cant let them white folks see them Reds! N ef Deacon Smith tells on me theyll lynch me…. Ah gotta git em out of tha church widout em seein each other…. Good Gawd, whut a mess!

  III

  No sooner had he opened the door of his church than he heard a crescendo of voices. They back awready! Tha committees back! Aw, Ah bet the mayor followed em here…. He walked down the hall, turned into the church’s waiting room, and saw a roomful of black faces.

  “Reveren Taylor! The mayor run us out!”

  “He put the police on us!”

  The black brothers and sisters ran to Taylor and surrounded him.

  “The mayor tol us t git out n don come back no mo!”

  A thin black woman swung onto Taylor’s arm, crying:

  “Whut Ahm gonna do? Ah ain gotta mouthful of bread at home!”

  “Sistahs n Brothers, jusa minute,” said Taylor. “Firs, tell me whut the mayor said….”

  “He say he cant do nothin! N say fer us not t come back t his office no mo! N say ef we do hes gonna put us in jail!”

  “In jail?” asked Taylor.

  “Thas whut he said.”

  “N he tol us not t march, Reveren. He said ef we demonstrated hed put us all in jail.”

  “Who tol em yuh wuz gonna march?” asked Taylor.

  “Ah bet it wuz tha ol Deacon Smith,” said Sister Harris.

  “The Bible says testify whut yuh see n speak whut yuh know,” said Sister Davis to Sister Harris.

  “Ah knows whut Ahm talking erbout!” blazed Sister Harris.

  “Sisths n Brothers, les don start no fuss,” said Taylor, sighing and dropping his shoulders.

  “Whut they tell yuh at the relief station, Reveren Taylor?” asked Sister James.

  “They say they cant do nothin,” said Taylor.

  The thin black woman came and knelt at Taylor’s feet, her face in her hands.

  “Reveren Taylor, it ain fer me Ahm astin! Its fer mah chillun! Theys hongry! It ain fer me, its fer them! Gawd, have mercy, theys hongry….”

  Taylor stepped back, ran his hand into his pocket and pulled out a palmful of loose coins.

  “Here, Sistahs n Brothers, split this up between yuh all. Its ever cent Ah got in this worl, so hep me Gawd!”

  He laid the coins on a small table. Brother Booker divided them as far as they would go. Then they swarmed around him again.

  “Reveren, whut we gonna do?”

  “Cant we make the white folks do something fer us?”

  “Ahm tireda bein hongry!”

  “Reveren, mah babys sick n Ah cant git her no milk!”

  “Reveren, whut kin Ah tell mah wife?”

  “Lawd knows, Ahm jus erbout sick of this!”

  “Whut kin we do, Reveren?”

  Taylor looked at them and was ashamed of his own helplessness and theirs.

  “Sistahs n Brothers, les call on the great Gawd who made us n put us in this worl….”

  He clasped his hands in front of him, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. The room grew still and silent.

  “Lawd Gawd Awmighty, Yuh made the sun n the moon n the stars n the earth n the seas n mankind n the beasts of the fiels!”

  yes jesus

  “Yuh made em all, Lawd, n Yuh tol em whut t do!”

  yuh made em lawd

  “Yuhs strong n powerful n Yo will rules this worl!”

  yuh rules it lawd

  “Yuh brought the chillun of Israel outta the lan of Egypt!”

  yuh sho did

  “Yuh made the dry bones rise up outta the valley of death n live!”

  yuh made em live lawd

  “Yuh saved the Hebrew chillun in the fiery furnace!”

  yes jesus

  “Yuh stopped the storm n yuh made the sun stan still!”

  yuh stopped it lawd

  “Yuh knocked down the walls of Jericho n Yuh kept Jona in the belly of the whale!”

  yuh kept im lawd

  “Yuh let Yo son Jesus walk on watah n Yuh brought Im back from the dead!”

  have mercy jesus

  “Yuh made the lame walk!”

  yuh did it lawd

  “Yuh made the blin see!”

  hep us now lawd

  “Yuh made the deaf hear!”

  glory t the mos high

  “Lawd, Yuhs a rock in the tima trouble n Yuhs a shelter in the tima storm!”

  he is he is

  “Lawd, Yuh said Yuhd strike down the wicked men who plagued Yo chillun!”

  glory t gawd

  “Yuh said Yuhd destroy this ol worl n create a new Heaven n a new Earth!”

  wes waitin on yuh jesus

  “Lawd, Yuh said call on Yo name n Yuhd answer!”

  yuh said it lawd n now wes callin

  “Yuh made us n put the breath a life in us!”

  yuh did lawd

  “Now look down on us, Lawd! Speak t our hearts n let us know whut Yo will is! Speak t us like Yuh spoke t Jacob!”

  speak lawd n our souls will be clay in yo hans

  “Lawd, ack in us n well obey! Try us, Lawd, try us n watch us move t Yo will! Wes helpless at Yo feet, a-waitin fer Yo sign!”

  send it lawd

  “The white folks say we cant raise nothin on Yo earth! They done put the lans of the worl in their pockets! They done fenced em off n nailed em down! Theys a-tryin t take Yo place, Lawd!”

  speak t em lawd

  “Yuh put us in this worl n said we could live in it! Yuh said this worl wuz Yo own! Now show us the sign like Yuh showed Saul! Show us the sign n well ack! We ast this in the name of Yo son Jesus who died tha we might live! Amen!”

  amen amen

  Taylor stopped and opened his eyes. The room was quiet; he could hear the clock ticking softly above his head, and from the rear came the sound of children playing back of the church. The sisters and brothers rose from their knees and began talking in subdued tones.

  “But, Reveren, whut kin we do?”

  “The issues wid Gawd now, Sistahs n Brothers.”

  “Is we gonna march?”

  “
Is yuh goin wid us t the mayor?”

  “Have faith, Sistahs n Brothers. Gawd takes care of His own.”

  “But Ahm hongry, Reveren….”

  “Now, Sistahs n Brothers, Ah got t go. Ah got business t tend t….”

  He pushed ahead of the black hands that clung to his sleeve.

  “Reveren Taylor….”

  The thin black woman wailed, kneeling:

  “Please, Reveren, cant yuh do somethin….”

  He pushed through the door, closed it, and stood for a moment with his eyes shut and his fingers slowly loosening on the knob, his ears filled with the sound of wailing voices.

  IV

  How come all this gotta happen at once? Folks a-beggin fer bread n the mayor here t see me n them Reds a-waitin in the Bible Room…. Ef Deacon Smith knowed tha hed ruin me sho! Ah cant let the mayor see them Reds…. Naw, Gawd! He looked at a door at the far end of the room, then hurried to it and opened it softly.

  “May!” he called in a hoarse whisper.

  “Hunh?”

  “C mere, quick!”

  “Whutcha wan, Dan?”

  “C mon in the room, May!”

  She edged through the half-opened door and stood in front of him, wide-eyed.