When him come back from the war, them make him keep the rifle.
Him step through the gate and gone up the road.
Is Satan take over now.
Mr. Johnson don’t say no word next. Him just bawl out like him is the wildest wild animal ever born. The rest of the people follow back o him, but way back cause nuff people was in the grocery when him was telling people bout friendly fire. But nobody did really have to follow, cause everybody know where him was going.
When the people see him coming them step out of the way. But the Apostle was coming. Apostle York come with Lucinda peeping from behind him frock like monkey. Mr. Johnson start huff and puff, but the Apostle block him way. Mr. Johnson shift left and the Apostle shift left. Mr. Johnson shift right and the Apostle shift right. Mr. Johnson shift left and grab him gun tighter. Him eye redder than red. Him was going kick down the Apostle to get to the man house.
“Vengeance is Mine, saith the Lord,
Hugh. Give me the gun.”
Mr. Johnson grab him gun tighter. Him finger lock pon the trigger and Mrs. Fracas scream and people start run. Him wasn’t just goin kill Clarence, him was goin kill everybody who did know.
“Hugh, give me the gun.”
We no understand why the Apostle so calm. Him talking to Mr. Johnson like him is some baby who pick up the wrong toy. Everybody who set to run now stop to watch. People fraid like puss, but them watch anyway. Except Mrs. Fracas. She run back to her house, with a trail of piss following her all the way to her door.
“Hugh,
vengeance is Mine,”
the Apostle say again. Everybody stare pon Mr. Johnson, who stare back pon the Apostle real hard.
“Hugh, does God have to show you who’s God? Well, does He? Does He, Hugh?”
Mr. Johnson huffing and puffing for a long while. So long we feel like we living and dying between each huff and puff. Him turn round to look behind him and everybody jump. Him huff and puff two more time and stand still. Mr. Johnson stare down the Apostle and the Apostle stare down back. We waiting. Then him give the Apostle the gun. We hear a door slam from behind Clarence house. The Apostle wave him two finger and The Five come out of nowhere and run off behind the house. Clarence bawl out three time and the whole o we looking, except Mr. Johnson. Little time after that, them carry Clarence out to the front. Four of them grab one limb each and the last one hold him head up by grabbing him hair. Clarence did always red, but this morning him head did look like blood was goin burst out o him face. Them catch him wearing the same kind of white brief that start all o this. Them bring him to the Apostle. Mr. Johnson sit down at the side of the road like him studying the gravel. Clarence eye swirling round like him can’t wake up.
“Clarence, I’m so disappointed in you,” the Apostle say. “The Lord sees all, knows all. You’re a fool and a sinner. The Lord have mercy on you.
“Beloved! Our brother, our, oh my Lord, what a shame it is to call this bastard our brother. A member of our church and still he chooses to reject the Lord and live a life of sin! Worse, he has corrupted another and made a mockery of holy matrimony. But listen to me, brethren. The man committed nothing illegal. He broke no laws. No, saints, he did something worse than that. He broke God’s heart! If we punish a man who breaks man’s law, what more should we do to a man who breaks God’s heart? Can anybody tell me? What shall we do?”
Is supposed be 6:00. Some of we couldn’t believe it, but even those who didn’t believe come out to see. Some people frighten and some people think is joke. The rest of we saying that is God judgment and nobody else responsible but them two nasty naygas who defile the Temple of the Holy Spirit. Plus, an example must be made in Gibbeah that we are people of the Lord and disobedience will not be tolerated—is so the Apostle say. We did think that if anything would bring out Mr. Garvey and him nephews, this must be it. But him didn’t come. The house stay shut up tight, with black curtain blocking all the window. Clarence laugh like this is the stupidest joke anybody ever tell him. Mrs. Johnson nah laugh though. The two of them under the cotton tree in the church cemetery. Brother Vixton use the cow rope to tie them up real good. Them look like them hanging from the branch even though them foot on the ground. Rope wrap round them wrist like how some rope use to wrap round people neck. Leave it to Vixton to have a whip save up from long time. Whip that him great-grandfather thief from white massa himself.
Clarence still a laugh?
Clarence take this thing make joke. Him still in him guilty brief and Mrs. Johnson still in her guilty brassiere. Nobody no put no clothes on them. Some man never see pokie like Mrs. Johnson own, which never bush up.
She trim her bush for Clarence.
Some of the woman them a size up Clarence and one of them remember she always sell him size-thirteen boot. Mrs. Smithfield hear that and start look down pon him brief harder. Is 6:00 but the sun was never hotter. The little girl them laugh them little girl laugh. The boy them point. Everybody come out to see it, even those who didn’t believe it.
What bout Pastor Bligh and the Widow woman?
Them never come.
Them goin get floggin next.
Mrs. Johnson start beg her husband so much that nuff people start to feel sorry for her. But then the Apostle remind we bout Bible Chapter Mark where the demons beg the Son of God, and if the Son of God did listen to all this begging, plenty people would be in Hell right now. That change we mind back.
She is the reason why the Devil take up residence in Gibbeah and we must cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out! The Apostle also say that this is not just punishment but is also love, cause God punish who him love. That make we want the whipping worser. Then him point two finger at Brother Vixton.
Tell we what happen next although we know.
Vixton swing the whip and Mrs. Johnson scream like we never think she could scream. None of we ever get whipping yet, so none of we ever hear scream like that. Is not what we did think we was goin hear. Is not scream like when you dusting under the dresser and a rat jump out on you. Is not a scream like when you slam the door on you finger. Is not a scream like when you see thief in the backyard robbing you cabbage. Is something else. Like when Mrs. Fracas hear say the white people cows trample her little son and kill him.
By the third lash we see that this really a happen. Is ten lick she fi get and by lick number six the leather cut through her back and her black skin turn red. By number eight lash she stop scream, but she start drip. By number ten her knee them buckle and she out. She start to swing as if breeze pushing her. The rope around her wrist as white as where the skin start to strip off. Her eye them shut.
Clarence was to get twenty lash. All the time the Apostle giving God thanks, Clarence a cuss and cuss and bringing down Hellfire and damnation pon everybody in the village. The Apostle wave him two finger and Brother Vixton swing the whip like a hatchet chopping down a tree. Clarence chomp him teeth hard and shut him eye tight. Then him ask the Brother if that is the best that him can do.
That must did make Brother Vixton whip him worser.
True-true. Clarence start fight, but him couldn’t do nothing but bruise him wrist under the rope. The white rope turning red. Mrs. Johnson eye still shut. Clarence not saying nothing, but him grind him teeth every time the leather lash him. By lash eight, him skin all cut up and him back look like when you slice up a pig. Vixton give him a extra hard lash and the front of Clarence brief explode with piss that run down him leg.
By lash thirteen, him gone from a white brief to a red brief. The people silent. Even the little pickney. Them either looking away or looking right past the cotton tree as if nobody swinging from it. Brother Jakes grab him boy and force him to look. Brother Vixton stop whipping and everybody just shudder with relief, but then him look pon the Apostle and the Apostle raise two finger. By lash fifteen, Clarence leg them start buckle too. Him head drop down and both him and Mrs. Johnson start swing. Mr. Johnson turn away, but the Apostle grab him and turn him round back. By lash twenty, the whip split. The Apostle say that God already will Vixton to make another bullwhip.
God judgment done. Some of we start scratch we back and everybody feel a way. The Apostle say this is a great day for Gibbeah cause we stand up for the Son of God who name we not to say. And we do a brave thing by saying no to sin. We see Mrs. Johnson blood and Clarence blood and the two of them blood mix together and blood up the cotton tree, the ground, and the whole cemetery. This is the first time it feel like not even a dead man place have any peace. The Apostle say to leave them til 10:00 in the night and then take them down and clean them up. Mrs. Smithfield shudder when him tell she fi clean them up.
God judgment a no play-play judgment.
God not romping with we.
We go home, leaving them pon the tree. None of we have nothing to say, so we just go into we own house and shut the door. Mr. Johnson go home and people who live near him say him cry all night.
The next morning them find another calf.
T
he Rum Preacher woke up ravenous. The Widow readied herself like an eager virgin. The table was laid before him and he ate with fury. They said nothing. He gorged himself on mackerel stewed in coconut milk, johnnycakes, roasted breadfruit, steamed cabbage, strips of bacon, potato pudding, and coffee, which she had roasted herself. The Widow had placed her chair in the room’s darkest spot. From there she looked on as the Rum Preacher came back to life. His hunger consumed the table, leaving upturned dishes and spilled gravy in his wake. And he wanted more.
Deacon Pinckney’s son found the calf. Hopping and skipping like a masterless gig, the child tripped over its hoof. Not afraid, he prodded it. The calf refused to come back to life, which left the boy with no choice but to revive it with his magic wand, just as Mandrake did in the comic strip. But the wand was no help either. The boy thought the calf strange, lying dead in the cornfield with the head upside-down. Lucinda saw it next and immediately threw herself to the ground in a fit of intercession for the soul of Gibbeah. Preceded silently by The Five, Apostle York came to see.
“Anybody knows whose cow this is? Whose brand is that? On the backside, whose brand?”
“Massa Fergie, Apostle. Him keep them for the MacMillans in Brownstown.”
“The MacMillans?”
“The MacMillans, sah. A white family who live down a Brownstown. Them rich plenty.”
“Rich?”
“Like Solomon, Apostle.”
“And white, you say?”
“Like Santa Claus belly.”
“So is white people, mammon-lovers, bringing the Devil to Gibbeah?”
“Me no know if them like fish, sah.”
“What? No, not salmon, mammon.”
“If you say so a so, Apostle.”
“Find me this … this Massa Fergie. He comes to church?”
“Him used to, sah, but when lightning strike the … when, ah … it … ah … kill the other man, him take over the blacksmith shop and leave the cows to do what them do.”
“I see. Anyway, bring this man to me.”
By now a crowd had gathered around them, breaking corn plants with their feet. A few confirmed that this was indeed obeah let loose. Others were just relieved that there was something, some new distress, to take their minds off the smell of whipped flesh. Wickedness was begetting wickedness. The Five pulled the old man from the crowd and presented him to the Apostle.
“Good morning, my brother. Is this your cow?”
The man said no, figuring without fully knowing that whatever yes could mean, it certainly wasn’t good. He repeated no; after all, there was no way any cow of his could have been born with an upside-down head and he not notice. The Apostle kicked the cow’s head and Gibbeah shook. He pointed at the brand on the cow’s backside.
“I’m no Balaam, but this ass says different.”
The old man stooped down to look. Nerves came down on him in a flush. He knew he was being watched. He spat on the ground. “Me say is not my cow.”
“It’s your brand. That is your mark. This is your beast. Do you deny that that is your mark, Master Fergie?”
“Is my—I mean, is the MacMillan brand, but is not my cow.”
The Apostle stared at him, his eyes wide open like a child. Massa Fergie spat again and watched it roll in dirt. The show of defiance wasn’t enough; the Apostle was still looking at him. Silence hovered, feebly interrupted by gulps, shuffles, and fidgets.
“You’re right, old man. This is not your cow. This cow have a new mark, written by Satan himself! All you people who love your signs and your wonders, wonder about this. Who inverts God’s promise? Who take everything God meant for good and turns it to bad? Who twists good into evil just as easily as he twisted this cow’s neck? Well, who? Is there no voice in Gibbeah?”
One by one, a chorus of “Satan” and “the Devil” popped off all over the cornfield.
“A spirit of witchcraft is on this village, you hear me, but mark my words, we’re going to cut it out! Cut it out! Cut it out!”
Lucinda’s back began to itch.
“Burn it.”
Followed in single file by The Five, the Apostle went back to the church.
The Rum Preacher ate his way to Sunday. It excited the Widow just to keep up. Bligh was making himself young and her too. Nowadays she decided not to curse such things. When he prayed, which he did often, she prayed as well, not to God or to him, but to the space between them. She mixed the beverage sweeter, holding back the Seville orange and pouring extra spoonfuls of sugar. She rolled the dumpling dough softer. Her touch became light, freed from expressing bitterness in every gesture. Her hair showered down on her shoulders. She was wearing blue. The Pastor was blind to his own handiwork.
“You goin out in that hot sun today?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
That was all they said for the rest of the day. In the past, silence would be thickened with tension, but now it took on the grace of familiarity. The Pastor and the Widow had developed a way of unspeak that seemed better than words.