John Crow's Devil (13 page)
Is the Sunday after Easter Sunday and the Apostle dealing with we hard. We no feel this fair. Things did hard enough searching the hymnal for hymn that don’t say Jesus. Now the Apostle say we not to have nothing to do with the things of this world cause everything is permit for the Devil. Some people start mumble. But the Apostle don’t say nothing that didn’t come out of God mouth first. Me not goin to be in the way when God come back to judge the quick and the dead. From me is little girl, the Bible say don’t cross with God cause Him would expose we and then Him would punish we. Plenty girl in Hell now feeling fire all the way up to them pokie cause them cross God. God knock down the wall of Jericho and kill every little boy baby in Egypt. God make river stink with blood and Him send Him own people to Babylon fi suffer hard. God kill all of Job pickney and fling Joseph in prison. Is six people outside now a listen to Pastor Bligh and God goin burn them up with Holy fire, just like him burn down the Majestic. You just watch and see.
Hector Bligh think him on fire for the Lord; him just a blaze up the street. Sun did hot but him extra hot. We no know what goin happen to church if anybody else start blaze. But the Apostle a deal with we hard. Him ask we question that nobody can answer. Him ask if we truly ready to follow God, cause all Jamaican people have is mouth. Him ask we again if we really, really, really ready to follow God, cause Christianity is not no play-play religion. Him say to follow God we have to move with God and you can’t move with God if you staying where you be. This is why God can’t bless Gibbeah. This is why there is a plague on the village and evil rising to flourish. The Devil re-staking him claim on Gibbeah but we must resist and stand up for God. Then him get harder, a fling scripture give we like cat o nine pon field negro backside.
“He who has ears, let him hear! If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters, yes, even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple. He who has ears, let him hear.”
Him say that is a special word for Gibbeah’s people of God. The word could be for one person or it could be for the whole church. Some of we have to get rid of the thing keeping we down so that we can fly high for God. We have to get rid of sin. The skirts that getting short and shorter. Them Little Richard and Tennessee Ernie Ford and Elvis records, even Peace in the Valley. The ganja, the friend who don’t come to church. The drinking, the fornication, the tobacco; we have to give up everything. Even husband have to give up wife, and mother give up pickney, cause them is the things that we turn into idol the most. Anything that have nothing to do with God have nothing to do with we and we must hate them things. We must hate anybody who don’t worship God the way we worship God, in spirit and truth every day and night. We must hate anybody who don’t see say that when God come to Earth Him was a man who did hard-up and hot and feel the burden of temptation just like we. Anything that God don’t have nothing to do with, we must hate it. Anybody who don’t come to church, we must hate like poison, that is what God say somewhere in the Bible. It don’t matter if is we own mother. The Apostle say that God say that Gibbeah must cut itself off from the sin that so easily entangle. That’s what him say. Him say we need to throw down everything and pick up the cross. Him say we need to hate father and mother and pastor who call themself father. Pastor who out in the street and right now dragging a precious few straight down to Hell. “We need to cut it out, church; we need to cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! We can’t serve God and the Devil,” the Apostle say.
After the Apostle done, we did want to kill the sinner man and sinner woman so bad that we did have to count to ten and then again. The Apostle a deal with we hard, but is so truth hard. Plus, nobody believe that after all this time scoring point for the Devil that Pastor Bligh all of a sudden on fire for Je … the Lord. This is the man that drunk from the day after him come. Imagine, Preacher gone to rum bar fi chummy-chummy up with drunkard and whore. This is the man who the Devil use Lillamae Perkins to turn into fool, she who drown herself. Him make all man shame that them is man. Plus, when him go fi baptize Mrs. Smithfield daughter, him nearly drown her. All them things we did think funny one time, but is that bastard make God leave Gibbeah. Is Apostle York who drive him out like how God drive evilness out of the temple. The Apostle a deal with we hard, but it better than the Pastor not dealing with we at all. Now him out o street a preach holy fire, but you no need much to do the Devil work. The Devil will take care of the Rum Preacher, so we must cut him off.
People already getting rid of the redifusion, and throwing way the short-wave radio. Anybody who not washed in the blood of the lamb we not talking to. Is time to be strong and upright. Is time to make sacrifice and we know who fi sacrifice first. Apostle York not fraid fi tell we hard things, that’s why we believe what him say. All we know say is that Deacon Pinckney could only see through one eye before the Apostle come to the village and now him can see through two. The Rum Preacher never bring one single miracle to Gibbeah. Him bring in the Devil fi take up seat like we and him is combolo. That’s why we glad bout what happen to him. We like how God use the Apostle to deal with Pastor Bligh case. Listen, when God use him man, God use him man!
The Apostle in church with the Pastor outside. The Apostle stretch out him hand and start say tongues, but this was no Abba babba tongues, is tongues we never hear yet. Outside, one of them scream and people run to the window to see the six of them scatter from him like ants. People say him was talking bout Jonah and Nineveh when all of a sudden him start bawl out,
Jesus! Jesus!
and start swing him hand like mad man. Me hear say him two eye go white and him start flap round like him blind. Then him knee buckle and him drop pon the road hard. We stay from up in the church and hear him head buck the road. Then him start shake-shake real hard and foam come out of him mouth. Then the foam turn to red. The Apostle stop speaking in tongue and the choir start to sing Bringing in the Shield We Shall Come Rejoicing. The Pastor still on the ground but him stop shake. Him white suit dirty. And him eye still white. Some of we couldn’t watch no more, cause we did glad, but we did sad too and that feel strange. Plus, we did fraid o God. We see what happen to people who take him name make poppy show. But we shall come rejoicing bringing in the shield. Little later, Mrs. Fracas say she look back one last time and just catch her in the corner of her eye. Widow Greenfield grab Hector Bligh by him two hand and drag him away.
T
hree days after Sunday, she was found, etherized in the blackened river mud, body stiff with rigor mortis. On her back with her legs spread wide, she looked ready for sexual intercourse. She seemed to have drowned. A dead calf was nothing new to Gibbeah, or to Mrs. Fracas, who fainted at the sight. There was no sign of what contributed to the cow’s demise except one: Her head was upside down. And though there was mud all over her, there was none on the calf’s neck. No cut, no scar, no stitch either. Neck grew into upside-down head as if the animal were born that way. To Mrs. Fracas, who saw the calf first, and Clarence, who saw it after, the answer was immediate and obvious. This was the Devil’s work.
The Widow Greenfield, with her grocery list in tow, had a simple mission. She had broken her own word and allowed the Rum Preacher back into her husband’s bed. Hector Bligh seemed so close to death himself. For this there were arguments to take up with God, but not right now. In a few minutes she would have a far more severe argument with someone else.
In the grocery shop people looked at her in a new way, with heads tilted and eyes that darted as her gaze met theirs. When a man went to live with a woman she became a sexual creature.
Widow Greenfield get
man at last before the pokie dry up
. But this was not man but Devil. The Apostle spoke it in prophecy. The Widow was defiant.
Turn on a light in fi them house and everybody scramble like roach.
Not even Lucinda could cast first stone. She knew her. Lucinda tried so hard to put up one face that she was probably hiding another. She had tried to steal the Widow’s husband. The Widow remembered Lucinda eleven years ago, standing across the road from the wedding reception in her black veil and funeral dress, resembling a John Crow. Lucinda spied on the Greenfields when they were doing married people things. But the animosity ran deeper than that. Before marriage, before puberty.
At preparatory school, the girls called Lucinda plain, the boys called her ugly, but she imagined herself a beauty queen. Sessions in the outhouse were lessons in poise. It was her only relief from a recent whipping or escape from an upcoming one. She fixed a crown made of cardboard and tin foil to her head and grasped the scepter made from hibiscus bush as she crossed her legs at the ankle like the queen. On that day when Lucinda was on the throne, with her legs crossed and her ankles knotted up in her panty, she perfected her victory wave. The audience she imagined became real as the toilet door swung open. There in front and laughing so hard that tears ran down her face was the Widow Greenfield, then called Mary Palmer, along with Clarence, Buntin, soon to be Deacon Pinckney, Vixton Dixon, soon to be Brother Vixton, and Elsamire, soon to be deceased. Lucinda gripped her scepter trembling and crossed her legs tighter. Then she rose, regally, but the panty that had bound her legs together betrayed her and she tripped, falling face first in the muddy bush. Mary Palmer and her friends tumbled in the grass as well, grabbing their sides as if laughter threatened to burst from their bodies. They christened her Lucinda Queenie and off they went, with Mary’s laughter a whirlwind barreling away. Lucinda did what she always did. She rose and straightened herself. Then she went inside, tore a page from her exercise book, and wrote a curse on every person who had wronged her, just as she saw her mother do. Her hatred was a fire that no man or God could put out. A fire that raged with their happiness and celebrated their tragedy. Lucinda Queenie made a deal with the Devil.
The Widow had not thought of the past in years, and found it odd that on this day she should remember.
“Hello? Hello? Excuse, please? Hello! Is you me talking to!”
“Me occupied with a customer, ma’am, so stop the cow ballin in me shop.”
“Customer? But me no see no customer! Me is the only customer in here buying anything.”
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
“Yeah, you excuse you damn self and come back with half pound o sugar and two pound o flour.”
“We don’t have none.”
“You don’t have no flour or sugar?”
“We don’t have neither. Go check somewhere else.”
“You don’t have neither, eeh? Then what you have in that bag by you foot mark flour, dog shit?”
“We don’t have—”
“Listen here, don’t take woman fi idiot! Is the flour bag that right at you foot and you telling me that you don’t have none to sell,” to which the shopkeeper, a rotund half-Chinese man in his forties, with thick glasses and thinning hair, came over to her. His face was less than a foot away from hers.
“No, you dry-up black bitch. We don’t have none to sell to you.”
The Widow pulled back. Eyes were upon her. She could feel every single one. A stare was a physical thing. Even after she grabbed her bag and left the shop, she could still feel their eyes on her, satellites for his eyes. They cut past skin and flesh and made bones tremble.
“Go with the Lord, ma’am.”
At the mouth of the bridge they waited for her return. With every stomp of her feet—seven miles to the nearest shop and back—her anger grew, pumping with the swifter beat of her heart. But at the mouth of the bridge fury withered and fear returned. The Rude Boys were waiting. Now they were Rude Boys for Christ, but that made them no less rude. She passed them on the bridge in silence. The Widow clutched her bags close and continued with her head straight and eyes ahead. At a good distance she turned around and they were no longer on the bridge. The Widow willed the lump back down her throat when she realized that they were following. The leader, tall and fat, swung from one side of the road to the other. The Widow walked faster. The Rude Boys followed. They would kill her with little effort, but toy with her first; four cats with one mouse. A can tumbled ahead of her and banged against the sidewalk. Several stones, some hitting her shoe, followed. They kicked garbage, dried shit, and cans. She walked faster, almost tripping over one of the things that hit her foot. Their footsteps sounded like a march. The Widow ran, cursing her burden and the man who was the cause. Clutching the bags, she almost ran past the gate. By the time she struggled to free the latch, they were gone.
