Jeffery Allen - Song of the Shank

He can smell soaps on the other man’s body.

And you should know the answer without any doubt. Divine power operates far beyond the limitations of what my human awareness can grasp or my five senses can detect. His voice is exact, crystal clear. If we live and move and have our being in Him, God also lives and moves and has His being in us. Double plants and unplants his feet until they are perfectly poised. That’s why we must pray. “Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.” Matthew 21:22. What I know is not based on what I see.

I am not unaware of your point of view.

But I can see that my words fall on deaf ears.

I don’t see any need for fomenting violence.

Double waves the suggestion away. We are fomenting nothing. Mr. Gross, if I set before you a cup of hot water and a portion of tea, would you call it a cup of tea?

I must place the hot water to the tea.

Exactly.

Tabbs watches Double, understanding what kind of God is behind his stare.

What an opportunity we all have now, Mr. Gross. The war has given us a new world. We can turn the page and begin afresh. The work to be done is not to be a reproduction of what we see in the Anglo-Saxon’s country. It is not to be a healing up of an old sore, but the unfolding of a new bud, an evolution, the development of a new side of God’s character and a new phase of humanity. As in every form of the inorganic universe we see some noble variation of God’s thought and beauty, so in each separate man, in each separate race, something of the absolute is incarnated. For the special work of each race the prophets arise among the people themselves.

Prophets? Tabbs sees in Double’s gaze something of that amused expression with which General Bethune had observed him many years ago.

Yes, prophets must do what they are required to do. You see, Mr. Gross, the great sin of that institution called Slavery is that it fostered the need for a greater sin called Emancipation that tricks the unknowing into the belief that any of us, African or Anglo-Saxon, are free. Man can never be free. At birth, he is firmly tied to his mother through the umbilical cord. And even death does not free him, for his Maker then claims what is rightfully His and assumes charge of his soul.

Tabbs listens to it all and tries to think through it, hearing (suspecting) something unsaid, that all of this talk about prophets and freedom is, in the end, about Tom.

We are all bond and must do as we are so scripted to do. Indeed, these Freedmen can’t remain idle, loitering about, seeking handouts, falling into wells. Or all of us here on Edgemere will fall. Jesus came into the world not to condemn. He came to save that which was lost. We are saving the world for the Ethiopian. And we are prepared to move heaven and earth. Conquer the waste places.

He feels comfortable (admit it) sitting here, listening to Double, gathering his own perspective, but does that he mean he should display his true thoughts before Double in this sparse room with one window and two chairs, pistols on the table and rifles on the walls? No. He should remain silent, refuse communication and hold his feelings within himself, so that Double will know him only as he wants Double to know him.

There are those who would condemn both you and me for the things we have tried to achieve. But I can hold my head high.

Tabbs holds his head high.

In the evening, Ruggles invariably makes an appearance, three or four evenings a week calling on him at Wire’s house. They take seats in the garden, tender evening light falling across the foliage. Share the bottle of sack that Ruggles brings. Ruggles is usually tired after a day’s work and not in the mood for conversation. He will talk only vaguely concerning his day — his affections and irritations — sometimes with rude familiarity. Tabbs appreciates his coming, for there is additional post to be delivered, additional criminals to be had, vigilance to be maintained, but Ruggles chooses to be here with him. Of those things they cannot speak of they simply say nothing. A measure of how far they’ve come.

Take me to her.

Mr. Tabbs is away. Two come and get him, struggling from side to side.

Tom, we thought you would like to help us this Sunday.

No church music.

You can play whatever you like.

No church. Legs dragging.

Outside light gallops over his body. The church is cool. The organ has a powerful sound, waves rising and falling.

Reverend Pastor speaks to him. Thank you for coming today, Tom. Jesus rose.

Yes he did.

He can smell burning in different parts of the church. God is the Lord of both light and darkness.

Then he goes on greeting people in the church. I see you two are still without child.

It is in the works, the husband says.

All that opens the womb is mine, he says.

The deacons do the devotion. Then it is Reverend Pastor’s time to speak.

The Almighty is good. I don’t think you heard me, the Almighty is good.

Yes.

He allowed us to get up this morning. I been sick for the past three Sundays. But He lifted my head off my pillow today. Yall gon help me?

Yes!

I say, He lifted my head off my pillow today. He made sure I got out of bed this morning. Cause he knew that I had to be with yall today.

Uh huh.

Said, I had to be with yall today.

That’s right.

It’s Easter Sunday. And the good Lord has brought us someone special today. His parallel is not to be found the world over, nor in any time of which the records are known. He reigns forever in an outlandish wayside temple of his own, full of bright dreams and visions. Brothers and sisters, the Original Blind Tom.

The two men pull Tom up into the air, three men standing on six feet. He hears the congregation, animal noises. They explode into applause. He takes his bows, one and another and another.

I thank the Almighty for allowing me to be here today to witness this miracle.

The two pull him back down, sitting on six feet. Then he tells the two, There ain’t no original.

You are the original.

You see, brothers and sisters, the days of miracles are not yet done.

Preach it!

You all gon help me this Easter Sunday?

Yes!

Take the original out of my name.

Said, yall gon help me this Sunday?

Yes!

We serve a mighty God. I do believe I have some witnesses in the house?

Yes.

He gave His only son so that we might be free from death. His only son. And He gave us all gifts. That’s something you got to understand, the Almighty gave us all gifts. And what was Jesus’s gift? Jesus came here to die. And in so dying He opened the cage and made us all free.

Tom.

Jesus Christ, the redeemer of man, the center of the universe and of history. His gift was He cheated death. Only Christ’s tomb is empty.

Amen.

Tom.

Now if Christ preached that He rose from the dead, how say some among you that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen? And if Christ is not risen, then our preaching is vain, and your faith is vain. Yea, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we have testified of God that He raised up Christ, whom He raised not up, if so be that the dead rise not. For if the dead rise not, then is not Christ raised? And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your sins. Then, they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished. If in this life only, we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.

You ready to sing?

No church music.

Okay.

Don’t go doubting Jesus’s gift.

No!

The Almighty gave each of us a gift. We need to know what our gifts are. And we need to put our gifts to use for God and the church.