Cormac McCarthy - Outer Dark

Howdy Reverend, said Billy.

Howdy. Bless all of ye’ns. They Lord what’s been thew here?

Hogs, said one of the drovers. Damndest mess of hogs you ever seen, excuse me.

Hard words don’t bother me no more than does hard ways, said the reverend. That’s what all I’m here for. What’s he done? You ain’t fixin to hang him are ye? Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Don’t hold with hangin a-tall lessen it’s legal. What possessed them hogs anyways?

This here feller run em off, Billy said.

I never done it, Holme said.

The hell you never.

Here now, somebody’s lyin. You, young feller, look me in the eye and tell me you never run them hogs off.

I never run em off, Holme said.

The drovers pressed about to watch.

The preacher looked at the ground again, stuffing the kerchief back up his sleeve.

Well, Reverend?

I believe he run em off.

I told ye, Billy said.

Goddamn it, Holme said, I wasn’t nowheres …

Watch that talk in front of the preacher, boy, one of the drovers said.

But don’t hang him boys, the reverend said. Don’t do it. We’ll take him in to justice. Render unto Caesar what all’s hisn.

He shoved brother Billy’s brother Vernon off the bluff with the hogs.

Just a goddamn minute, Holme said.

There he goes again with that mouth.

Don’t hang him, boys, the preacher cried out. No good’ll ever come of it.

Everbody seen what he done, Billy said. You all seen it.

The preacher looked like a charred bird. He was peering at the ground and pounding his cane there. Ah don’t hang him, he said. Oh Lord don’t hang him. Shaking his head and muttering these things loudly over and over.

I wisht you’d hush about some hangin, Holme said.

It’s a serious thing, the preacher said. I don’t advocate it save under the strongest extremes.

Well if you’d hush about it …

Tore up with guilt. The preacher nodded sad and negative. Plumb tore up with it.

We all seen him on that rock.

How come ye to do it, son?

Holme looked about him for some sign of sanity. Shit, he said.

I believe we done mentioned it to ye oncet about that barnyard talk.

The preacher had begun to gesture inanely with his cane. Boys I believe he’s plumb eat up with the devil in him. But don’t hang him.

Ort to thow him off the bluff the way he done Vernon, Billy said.

How far down is it? the preacher was interested.

Too far to walk back.

Billy don’t know what all to tell his maw, Reverend. He just don’t have no notion how to go about tellin her. Ain’t that right Billy?

I don’t know what none of us is goin to tell Greene come upon his hogs. They must of been two hunnerd head fell off in the river.

Don’t flang him off the bluff, boys, the preacher said. I believe ye’d be better to hang him as that.

I believe we would too.

What do you say Billy? He’s your brother.

I believe I’d rest easier. I believe Vernon would of wanted it thataway.

Lessen he’s got some choice.

They looked at Holme.

Vernon never had none, Billy said.

He’s right about that.

Well he probably don’t care noway. You got any particulars, stranger? Strung up or flang off in the river?

Holme wiped his palms down the sides of his overall legs and looked about him with wide eyes.

Let’s hang him if he don’t care. I ain’t never seen nobody hung.

We ain’t got nary rope.

They stopped and looked from one to the other.

Rope?

Cain’t hang him thout a rope.

They’s one in the wagon. Cecil’s got one in the wagon.

They Lord he’ll be ten mile up the river fore we catch him.

He’ll be stopped makin camp now late as it is. We hurry we can get up there and get him hung afore dark.

Let’s just thow him off the bluff and be done with it.

Naw, that ain’t no way to do. Besides Billy wants him hung.

I believe Vernon would of wanted it thataway, Billy said.

I believe old Greene’ll be comforted some too.

Don’t flang him off the bluff, boys. Tain’t christian.

Let’s go then.

Hump up there, stranger, and let’s go get hung.

They started up the river.

The preacher fell in alongside Holme. What place of devilment you hail from, mister? he asked.

Holme looked at him wearily. I don’t come from no place of devilment, he said. I come from Johnson County.

Never heard tell of it. You a christian?

Yes.

I cain’t say as you’ve much took on the look of one.

It ain’t marked you a whole lot to notice neither, Holme said.

Don’t disperge the cloth son, the preacher said. Don’t disperge the cloth.

Cloth’s ass, Holme said.

Well now, said the preacher, what have we here. I believe it’s a hard enough case to give Jehovah hisself the witherins.

Holme didn’t answer.

Might be somethin of a comfort to have a preacher there at your final hour, the preacher went on. If your heart ain’t just scabbed over with sin.

You don’t look like much of a preacher to me, Holme said.

I’ll bet I don’t, the preacher said. I’d just bet I don’t at that, to you.

Holme trudged along over the chopped ground. They were following the swath the hogs had made.

Where was it you was a-goin anyways? the preacher asked.

Just on to the next town.

Guess you never reckoned when ye set out this mornin that you was on your way to be hung. Did ye?

Holme ignored him.

A feller never knows what day’ll be his last in this vale of tears. You been baptized?

Why don’t you go on and walk somewheres else? Holme said.

I guess a feller mires up so deep in sin after a while he don’t want to hear nothin about grace and salvation. Not even a feller about to be hung dead.

It ain’t no use, Reverend. He’s too mean to be saved.

Most probably you right, the reverend said. But I sure would love to do it if I could. It’d make a jimdandy sermon. I saved a blind feller once wanted to curse God for his affliction. You all want to hear that’n? It’s a strong sermon. I like to save it for best.

Tell it, Reverend.

I won’t tell it all. This blind feller hollered out one time and said: Looky here at me, blind and all. I guess you reckon I ort to love Jesus.

Well neighbor, I says, I believe ye ort. He give ye eyes to see and then he tuck em away. And maybe you never was much of a christian to start with and he figgered this’d bring ye round. They’s been more than one feller brought to the love of Jesus over the paths of affliction. And what better way than blind? In a world darksome as this’n I believe a blind man ort to be better sighted than most. I believe it’s got a good deal to recommend it. The grace of God don’t rest easy on a man. It can blind him easy as not. It can bend him and make him crooked. And who did Jesus love, friends? The lame the halt and the blind, that’s who. Them is the ones scarred with God’s mercy. Stricken with his love. Ever legless fool and old blind mess like you is a flower in the garden of God. Amen. I told him that.

That’s a right pretty sermon, Reverend.

I wisht Vernon could of heard it.

He knelt right there and was saved on the spot, the reverend said.

The path had come down from the high bluffs and was going along the river and already it was late afternoon. Holme looked about, stepped past the preacher and the drover next him and jumped.

It was a long way down and when he hit he felt something tear in his leg. He came up with a mouthful of muddy water and spat and turned. They were aligned along the bluff watching him. The preacher had both hands aloft, gesturing. The drovers against the pale sky were small, erect, simian shapes. The seven of them watched him. He could hear the preacher’s voice. The current was carrying him on and his leg was hurting but he kept watching them and after a while they were very small and then they turned and went on along the bluff with no order rank or valence to anything in the shapen world.