Bill Cheng - Southern Cross the Dog

She smiled and opened the door.

Go on. Just don’t disturb the others. They’ve already started.

He went down a flight of stairs, his hand on the wall to guide him. Above his head, there were pipes gathering dust in silken strands. At the bottom, he found himself in the back of a room, a dozen men and women out of their seats, holding hands, facing a low raised stage. They were singing. On the stage stood a man, his shirtsleeves rolled, his face dripping with sweat. Beside him, a coal furnace burned warm and red. The man lifted up his hands and a roar broke out. Then he brought his arms back down and the congregants silenced and fell into their seats.

Praise, brothers and sisters, praise!

They answered, Praise! Praise!

The man paced the length of the stage for a time, breathing loudly through his nose, his hands knotted behind his back. Through a small window near the ceiling, the brittle light streamed in. The man turned and caught the light against his frame so that when he drew his arms up, it was as if he were ablaze. Friends, he said, his hands lifting, life is not the highest good. Reverend, how will I save my soul? How will I enter through Heaven’s gate? My clothes are shabby and there are holes in my shoes. My pockets are light and my Burden is Great, Reverend.

You say to me, Reverend, there is a meanness in this world, and I have fought and it has beaten me, and now I am so conscripted, let mean be laid upon mean, low upon the low! You wag your tongues but from that other mouth, you beg forgiveness, you plead for Spirit and Light. Reverend, direct me to Heaven’s door, I am ready for my reward.

And the Poet says: Not so goddamn fast.

Because life is not the highest good.

Brothers, are we not made from the Divine? The same stuff that drowned the pharaoh, that cleaved the Sea. Are we not filled with that same breath that was breathed into Adam, made not of that same clay? I speak so answer! Praise that we may speak, and stand on two legs, and command the beasts and eat the fruit of this earth so then must we speak the Gospel, and bear your brother upon your back, and drive the Devil from the land. For it is him that I’ve come to talk about today. That low sniffling dog that now howls at our back door! Hear him, brothers, hear! He calls for blood!

Who then does it befall to turn him away? Who shall break his neck upon their boot heels? Mark! Mark! Oh you low, you dogs, you wretches, mark, where is that fine stuff now?

The man took a kerchief from his pocket and wiped his neck. Then he folded it again, keeping it in his hand — a square of white.

Now I’ve seen the elephant and I’ve heard the owl, and the mountain, brothers, climbs steep. The Devil is no fool. The Devil talks in pretty words and he takes from what he borrows you. He takes from our Greed and our Vanity and our Sinfulness.

The man locked his eyes on Robert. They were small and slitted.

The man brought his hand out and held it in front of him. The kerchief waved in his grip.

I quake, brothers and sisters. I quake. I can feel this world tearing itself apart. I can feel the air unraveling. Our families reduced to ash. Our homes being blown to dust. I tremble. Not for what I have lost but for what still may be taken from me. So let us take unto us the whole armor of God, that we may be able to withstand the evil day.

AFTER THE SERVICES, ROBERT WAITED for the congregants to leave. They filed out of the dusty basement, shaking hands with the man and dropping dollars in his basket. A few women came to him and they hugged him and patted his cheek. Soon it was only Robert and the man. The man filled a basin with water and began washing his face and hands.

Something I can do for you, brother?

I’ve seen you somewhere, Robert said.

In a vision, maybe. Perhaps you are called.

What’s your name, Reverend?

Do you mean my earthly name or the name writ for me in heaven?

What do you call yourself here, in this basement.

Reverend. Just Reverend now.

What about before?

Brother, you ask many questions, but not for the answer you seek.

I have a gun in my pocket, Robert said. I’m going to use it to kill you.

The man smiled. He dried his hands on a towel. Then he seized Robert by the throat and tore open the front of his shirt. The buttons scattered and Robert struggled for air. The man let go and Robert fell backward. The man was still smiling, looking at the naked flesh where the pouch had been.

You didn’t keep your promise, the man said.

Robert rubbed his throat, breathing shallowly.

The man looked at the back of his large hands, inspecting the nails.

Come on, he said. Let’s go outside.

THEY CROSSED THE STREET AND circled to a small gated alley of pecan trees. Eli reached into his pocket and took from it a large iron ring. He unlocked the gate and they went inside. They sat down on a stone bench to rest. Out beyond the gate, they could see the gabled roofs of neighboring houses. A magpie was sitting on a line, watching them.

I wasn’t sure I recognized you in the crowd. But then you came up to me and I knew it was you. That same stink-eyed boy from almost ten years ago.

What are you doing here?

My boy, I’m speaking the Gospel.

And fattening up on the way.

I admit this life has been kind to me, yes. My former employer, Mr. Duke, had a gift for recitation and it had an awful sway on me. I shaved my face and cut off my hair and answered the call.

Eli grinned. He stood up and brushed the pollen from his shirt.

What is it you want?

Robert looked at him. His heart was racing. He tried to steady himself.

There was a noise at the gate and they turned to see a woman behind it. She brightened when she saw Eli and waved toward him.

Excuse me, he said.

Robert watched him cross the alley to the gate. He said some words to the woman and stroked her hand. She didn’t look more than fifteen. She put something into his hand and it disappeared into his pocket. Then she turned to leave.

One of my flock. The people of this town rely on me, he said. They look to me to unburden their souls.

Eli sat again on the bench.

Why don’t you unburden your soul to me?

Robert grimaced. I don’t have the money to spare, Reverend.

Eli laughed. You wound me. And rightly. Still, for you, it’ll be on God’s tab.

No thanks.

Robert turned to leave.

Eli called to him. And where will you go? How long you going to go sniffing and begging in the back rooms and alleys? Now you and I both know you haven’t got a place in this whole cursed world to lay your head. Oh, maybe you got a place for tonight and maybe the night after. Some run-down ramshackle place to filter out the weather. Or maybe you got a nice warm bed somewhere, sharing it with some nice warm lady. But it’s all on loan, brother. I’m sitting here and the Lord is sitting up there in his Kingdom above, and you got one chance to set the record, brother. We’re both of us all ears.

Robert looked back at him. Eli had his arms outstretched, channeling in the air. Robert started back. Eli motioned to the bench, and Robert sat down and bent his head into his hands.

Put down your load, Eli said.

Robert let out a long breath and closed his eyes. There was a quiet for a time. He could not think how to start. He reached for the words and felt instead the dirty mop of Roan’s hair brushing against him. He recoiled, shuddering.

Let me help you, he heard Eli say. Eli’s hands were on his own now — those long still-soft fingers coiling around his wrists, pressing into his pulse.

You’ve done something. Something you regret.

This is a trick, Robert said. This is a game.

Something dangerous, Eli went on. Something bad, worse than has ever happened before. And you’re scared. You don’t know what to do. That’s why you were in there tonight. Looking for answers.