osc.am1.seventhson-第16节

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　　〃How　do　I　know；　Measure？　I'm　only　six。〃
　　〃I'm　twenty…two；　Alvin；　I'm　a　growed　man；　and　I　still　don't　know。　I　reckon　Ma　and　Pa　don't　know；　neither。〃
　　〃Well；　if　they　don't　know；　how　e　they　get　so　mad　about　it？〃
　　〃Oh；　that's　what　it　means　to　be　married。　You　fight　all　the　time；　but　you　never　fight　about　what　you　think　you're　fighting　about。〃
　　〃What　are　they　really　fighting　about？〃
　　Alvin　could　see　just　the　opposite　thing　this　time。　Measure　thought　of　telling　the　truth；　but　he　changed　his　mind。　Stood　up　tall　and　tousled　Alvin's　hair。　That　was　a　sure　sip　to　Alvin　Junior　that　a　grown…up　was　going　to　lie　to　him；　the　way　they　always　lied　to　children；　as　if　children　weren't　reliable　enough　to　be　trusted　with　the　truth。　〃Oh；　I　reckon　they　just　quarrel　to　hear　theirselfs　talk。〃
　　Most　times　Alvin　just　listened　to　grown…ups　lie　and　didn't　say　nothing　about　it；　but　this　time　it　was　Measure；　and　he　especially　didn't　like　having　Measure　lie　to　him。
　　〃How　old　will　I　have　to　be　before　you　tell　me　straight？〃　asked　Alvin。
　　Measure's　eyes　flashed　with　anger　for　just　a　second　　nobody　likes　being　called　a　liar　　but　then　he　grinned；　and　his　eyes　were　sharp　with　understanding。　〃Old　enough　that　you　already　guess　the　answer　for　yourself；〃　he　said；　〃but　young　enough　that　it'll　still　do　you　some　good。〃
　　〃When's　that？〃　Alvin　demanded。　〃I　want　you　to　tell　me　the　truth　now；　all　the　time。〃
　　Measure　squatted　down　again。　〃I　can't　always　do　that；　Al；　cause　sometimes　it'd　just　be　too　hard。　Sometimes　I'd　have　to　explain　things　that　I　just　don't　know　how　to　explain。　Sometimes　there's　things　that　you　have　to　figure　out　by　living　long　enough。〃
　　Alvin　was　mad　and　he　knew　his　face　showed　it。
　　〃Don't　you　be　so　mad　at　me；　little　brother。　I　can't　tell　you　some　things　because　I　just　don't　know　myself；　and　that's　not　lying。　But　you　can　count　on　this。　If　I　can　tell　you；　I　will；　and　if　I　can't；　I'll　just　say　so；　and　won't　pretend。〃
　　That　was　the　most　fair　thing　a　grown…up　ever　said；　and　it　made　Alvin's　eyes　fill　up。　〃You　keep　that　promise；　Measure。〃
　　〃I'll　keep　it　or　die；　you　can　count　on　that。〃
　　〃I　won't　forget；　you　know。〃　Alvin　remembered　the　vow　he　had　made　to　the　Shining　Man　last　night。　〃I　know　how　to　keep　a　promise；　too。〃
　　Measure　laughed　and　pulled　Alvin　to　him；　hugged　him　right　against　his　shoulder。　〃You're　as　bad　as　Mama；〃　he　said。　〃You　just　don't　let　up。〃
　　〃I　can't　help　it；〃　said　Alvin。　〃If　I　start　believing　you；　then　how'll　I　know　when　to　stop？〃
　　〃Never　stop；〃　said　Measure。
　　Calm　rode　up　on　his　old　mare　about　then；　and　Mama　came　out　with　the　dinner　basket；　and　everybody　that　was　going；　went。　Papa　took　Alvin　Junior　out　to　the　barn　and　in　no　time　at　all　Alvin　was　helping　notch　the　boards；　and　his　pieces　fit　together　just　as　good　as　Papa's。　Truth　to　tell　they　fit　even　better；　cause　Al　could　use　his　knack　for　this；　couldn't　he？　This　altar　was　for　everybody；　so　he　could　make　the　wood　fit　so　snug　that　it　wouldn't　ever　e　apart；　not　at　the　joints　or　nowhere。　Alvin　even　thought　of　making　Papa's　joints　fit　just　as　tight；　but　when　he　tried；　he　saw　that　Papa　had　something　of　a　knack　at　this　himself。　The　wood　didn't　join　together　to　make　one　continuous　piece；　like　Alvin's　did　　but　it　fit　good　enough；　yes　sir；　so　there　wasn't　no　need　to　fiddle。
　　Papa　didn't　say　much。　Didn't　have　to。　They　both　knew　Alvin　Junior　had　a　knack　for　making　things　fit　right；　just　like　his　Papa　did。　By　nightfall　the　whole　altar　was　put　together　and　stained。　They　left　it　to　dry；　and　as　they　walked　into　the　house　Papa's　hand　was　firm　on　Alvin's　shoulder。　They　walked　together　just　as　smooth　and　easy　as　if　they　were　both　parts　of　the　same　body；　as　if　Papa's　hand　just　growed　there　right　out　of　Alvin's　neck。　Alvin　could　feel　the　pulse　in　Papa's　fingers；　and　it　was　beating　right　in　time　with　the　blood　pounding　in　his　throat。
　　Mama　was　working　by　the　fire　when　they　came　in。　She　turned　and　looked　at　them。　〃How　is　it？〃　she　asked。
　　〃It's　the　smoothest　box　I　ever　seen；〃　said　Alvin　Junior。
　　〃There　wasn't　a　single　accident　at　the　church　today；〃　said　Mama。
　　〃Everything　went　real　good　here；　too；〃　said　Papa。
　　For　the　life　of　him　Alvin　Junior　couldn't　figure　out　why　Mama's　words　sounded　like　〃I　ain't　going　nowhere；〃　and　why　Papa's　words　sounded　like　〃Stay　with　me　forever。〃　But　he　knew　he　wasn't　crazy　to　think　so；　cause　right　then　Measure　looked　up　from　where　he　lay　all　sprawled　out　afore　the　fire　and　winked　so　only　Alvin　Junior　could　see。
　　
　　
　　Chapter　Eight　　Visitor
　　
　　Reverend　Thrower　allowed　himself　few　vices；　but　one　was　to　eat　Friday　supper　with　the　Weavers。　Friday　dinner　was　more　accurate；　since　the　Weavers　were　shopkeepers　and　manufacturers；　and　didn't　stop　work　for　more　than　a　snack　at　noon。　It　wasn't　the　quantity　so　much　as　the　quality　that　brought　Thrower　back　every　Friday。　It　was　said　that　Eleanor　Weaver　could　take　an　old　tree　stump　and　make　it　taste　like　sweet　rabbit　stew。　And　it　wasn't　just　the　food；　either；　because　Armor…of…God　Weaver　was　a　churchgoing　man　who　knew　his　Bible；　and　conversation　was　on　a　higher　plane。　Not　so　elevated　as　conversation　with　highly　educated　churchmen；　of　course；　but　the　best　that　could　be　had　in　this　benighted　wilderness。
　　They　would　eat　in　the　room　back　of　the　Weavers'　store；　which　was　part　kitchen；　part　workshop；　and　part　library。　Eleanor　stirred　the　pot　from　time　to　time；　and　the　smell　of　boiled　venison　and　the　day's　bread　baking　mingled　with　the　odors　from　the　soapmaking　shed　out　back　and　the　tallow　they　used　in　candlemaking　right　here。　〃Oh；　we're　some　of　everything；〃　said　Armor；　the　first　time　Reverend　Thrower　visited。　〃We　do　things　that　every　farmer　hereabouts　can　do　for　himself　　but　we　do　it　better；　and　when　they　buy　it　from　us　it　saves　them　hours　of　work；　which　gives　them　time　to　clear　and　plow　and　plant　more　land。〃
　　The　store　itself；　out　front；　was　shelved　to　the　ceiling；　and　the　shelves　were　filled　with　dry　goods　brought　in　by　wagon　from　points　east　　cotton　cloth　from　the　spinning　jennies　and　steam　looms　of　Irrakwa；　pewter　dishes　and　iron　pots　and　stoves　from　the　foundries　of　Pennsylvania　and　Suskwahenny；　fine　pottery　and　small　cabinets　and　boxes　from　the　carpenters　of　New　England；　and　even　a　few　precious　bags　of　spices　shipped　into　New　Amsterdam　from　the　Orient。　Armor　Weaver　had　confessed　once　that　it　took　all　his　life　savings　to　buy　his　stock；　and　it　was　no　sure　bet　that　he'd　prosper　out　here　in　this　thinly　settled　land。　But　Reverend　Thrower　had　noticed　the　steady　stream　of　wagons　ing　up　from　the　lower　Wobbish　and　down　the　TippyCanoe；　and　even　a　few　from　out　west　in　the　Noisy　River　country。
　　Now；　as　they　waited　for　Eleanor　to　announce　that　the　venison　stew　was　ready；　Reverend　Thrower　asked　him　a　question　that　had　bothered　him　for　some　time。
　　〃I've　seen　what　they　haul　away；〃　said　Reverend　Thrower；　〃and　I　can't　begin　to　guess　what　they　use　to　pay　you。　Nobody　makes　cash　money　around　here；　and　not　much　they　can　trade　that'll　sell　back　east。〃
　　〃They　pay　with　lard　and　charcoal；　ash　and　fine　lumber；　and　of　course　food　for　Eleanor　and　me　and　whoever　else　might　e。〃　Only　a　fool　wouldn't　notice　that　Eleanor　was　thickening　enough　to　be　about　halfway　to　a　baby。　〃But　mostly；〃　said　Armor；　〃they　pay　with　credit。〃
　　〃Credit！　To　farmers　whose　scalps　might　well　be　traded　for　muskets　or　liquor　in　Fort　Detroit　next　winter？〃
　　〃There's　a　lot　more　talk　of　scalping　than　there　is　scalping　going　on；〃　said　Armor。　〃The　Reds　around　here　aren't　stupid。　They　know　about　the　Irrakwa；　and　how　they　have　seats　in　Congress　in　Philadelphia　right　along　with　White　men；　and　how　they　have　muskets；　horses；　farms；　fields；　and　towns　just　like　they　do　in　Pennsylvania　or　Suskwahenny　or　New　Orange。　They　know　about　the　Cherriky　people　of　Appalachee；　and　how　they're　farming　and　fighting　right　alongside　Tom　Jefferson's　White　rebels　to　keep　their　country　independent　from　the　King　and　the　Cavaliers。〃
　　〃They　might　also　have　noticed　the　steady　stream　of　flatboats　ing　down　the　Hio　and　wagons　ing　west；　and　the　trees　failing　down　and　the　log　houses　going　up。〃
　　〃I　reckon　you're　half　right；　Reverend；〃　said　Armor。　〃I　reckon　the　Reds　might　go　either　way。　Might　try　to　kill　us　all；　or　might　try　to　settle　down　and　live　among　us。　Living　with　us　wouldn't　be　exactly　easy　for　them　　they　aren't　much　used　to　town　living；　whereas　it's　the　most　natural　way　for　White　folks　to　live。　But　fighting　us　has　got　to　be　worse；　cause　if　they　do　that　they'll　end　up　dead。　They　may　think　that　killing　White　folks　might　scare　the　others　into　staying　away。　They　don't　know　how　it　is　in　Europe；　how　the　dream　of　owning　land　will　bring　people　five　thousand　miles　to　work　harder　than　they　ever　did　in　their　lives　and　bury　children　who　might　have　lived　in　the　home　country　and　risk　having　a　tommyhock　mashed　into　their　brains　cause　it's　better　to　be　your　own　man　than　to　serve　any　lord。　Except　the　Lord　God。〃
　　〃And　that's　how　it　is　with　you；　too？〃　asked　Thrower。　〃Risk　everything；　for　land？〃
　　Armor　looked　at　his　wife　Eleanor　and　smiled。　She　didn't　smile　back；　Thrower　noticed；　but　he　also　noticed　that　her　eyes　were　beautiful　and　deep；　as　if　she　knew　secrets　that　made　her　solemn　even　though　she　was　joyful　in　her　heart。