gs.earthabides-第60部分

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as　gone；　there　was　no　one　to　whom　his　heart　really　went　out。　
　　One　afternoon　he　awoke　from　a　nap；　and　saw　Em　sitting　near　his　bed。　With　only　half…opened　eyes；　he　looked　at　her。　She　had　not　yet　noticed　that　he　was　awake。　She　was　still　weary…looking；　but　no　longer　with　the　terrible　weariness　that　he　had　seen　before。　There　was　grief　too；　but　a　calm　covered　it。　There　was　no　despair。　As　for　fear；　he　no　longer　even　thought　of　searching　for　that！　
　　She　looked　at　him；　and　noticed　his　opened　eyes；　and　smiled　quickly。　Suddenly　he　knew　that　this　was　the　time　when　he　must　face　it。　
　　〃I　must　talk　with　you；〃　he　said；　though　his　voice　was　scarcely　more　than　a　whisper；　as　if　he　were　still　asleep。　Then　he　paused。　
　　〃Yes；〃　she　said　quietly；　〃I　am　here。。。。　Go　on。。。。　I　am　here。　〃　
　　〃I　must　talk　with　you；〃　he　repeated；　still　afraid　really　to　begin。　He　felt　himself　humble　before　her；　the　child　who　must　ask　questions　of　the　grown…up；　the　frightened　child　trying　to　drive　fear　away　and　renew　confidence。　Yet；　not　being　really　a　child；　he　feared　that　even　she　could　make　no　answer　that　would　bring　that　security。　
　　〃I　want　to　ask　you　some　questions；〃　he　went　on。　〃How　is　it。。。〃　he　began　bravely；　and　then　paused　again。　
　　She　only　smiled　at　him；　realizing　his　weakness；　but　she　did　not　tell　him　to　wait　till　another　time。　
　　〃This　is　it！〃　he　said　desperately。　〃Is　this　the　way　of　it？　I　know　what　George　is　thinking；　and　the　others　perhaps　too！　I　heard　something；　even　through　my　fever。　Is　it。。。　is　it　a　punishment？〃　
　　Then　he　looked　at　her；　and　for　the　first　time　in　all　those　terrible　weeks　he　saw　in　her　face　something　which　was　fear；　or　might　be。　Even　I　have　failed　her；　he　thought　in　panic。　Yet　he　knew　that　now　he　must　go　on；　or　else　a　wall　of　doubt　and　dishonesty　would　arise　between　them　forever。　
　　So　he　blurted　on：　〃You　know　what　I　mean！　Is　it　because　we　killed　Charlie？　Did　something…did　God…strike　back　at　us？　An　eye　for　an　eye；　and　a　tooth　for　a　tooth！　Is　this　why　they　all…why　Joey？…died？　Did…what　it　was…He…use　the　disease　that　Charlie　was　carrying…so　that　we　should　all　be　sure　how　it　was　meant？〃　
　　Then；　as　he　paused；　he　saw　that　her　face　was　contorted　with　horror。　
　　〃No；　no！〃　she　cried。　〃Not　you　too！　I　faced　the　others　so　often　alone　when　you　were　sick！　I　knew　no　arguments；　but　I　knew　that　it　could　not　be　so。　I　could　give　them　no　arguments。　All　I　could　give　them　was　my　courage！〃　
　　She　paused；　as　if　the　sudden　vehemence　had　exhausted　her。　
　　〃Yes；〃　she　went　on；　〃I　felt　courage　flow　out　from　me　like　blood！　It　flowed　out　to　them　all；　and　I　grew　weaker　as　it　flowed；　and　I　wondered　'Will　there　be　enough？　Will　there　be　enough？'　And　you　were　talking　of　Charlie　through　your　fever。〃　
　　She　was　silent　again；　but　he　could　say　nothing。　
　　〃Oh；〃　she　cried；　〃do　not　ask　me　for　more　courage！　I　do　not　know　the　arguments。　I　never　went　to　college。　All　I　know　is　that　we　did　what　we　thought　best。　If　there　is　a　God　who　made　us　and　we　did　wrong　before　His　eyes…as　George　says…at　least　we　did　wrong　only　because　we　were　as　God　made　us；　and　I　do　not　think　that　He　should　set　traps。　Oh；　you　should　know　better　than　George！　Let　us　not　bring　all　that　back　into　the　world　again…the　angry　God；　the　mean　God…the　one　who　does　not　tell　us　the　rules　of　the　game；　and　then　strikes　us　when　we　break　them。　Let　us　not　bring　Him　back！　Not　you　too！〃　
　　Then　she　stopped。　and　he　saw　that　her　face　was　between　her　hands；　so　that　he　could　not　tell　whether　or　not　there　was　fear　in　it。　But　he　knew　that　she　was　crying。　
　　And　again　he　felt　small　and　very　humble　before　her。　（Once　more　she　had　not　failed　him。）　But　most　of　all　he　felt　calm　and　peaceful　and　reassured。　Yes；　he　should　have　known。　He；　among　them　all；　should　not　have　doubted。　Reaching　out；　he　took　one　of　her　hands。　
　　〃Do　not　be　afraid；〃　he　found　himself　saying；　though　for　him　to　be　saying　so　to　her　was　ironic。　〃You　are　right；　you　are　right！　I　shall　not　think　such　things　again。　I　know　the　arguments。　But　when　there　is　death　and　a　man　has　been　very　sick；　he　is　weak。　Yes；　you　must　remember；　I　am　still…not　quite　myself。〃　
　　Then　suddenly　she　was　kissing　him　through　warm　tears；　and　had　gone　from　the　room。　Again；　he　knew；　she　was　strong。　Again　courage　could　flow　outward　from　her。　Oh；　Mother　of　Nations！　
　　He　also；　as　he　lay　there　still　weak…he　also　felt　courage　again；　whether　he　had　drawn　it　from　her　store　or　whether　her　words　had　merely　caused　him　to　build　up　his　own。　
　　Yes；　he　thought…and　did　not　flee　from　the　thought…yes；　Joey　is　gone。　Joey　is　dead。　He　will　not　be　back。　He　will　not…ever　again…e　running　to　see　what　is　happening。　Yet；　there　will　be　a　future。　Though　I　am　gray…haired　now；　yet　still　there　is　Em…and　the　others…and　I　may　even　be　happy。　It　will　be　nothing　like　the　future　I　planned…now　that　Joey　is　dead。　Still；　I　shall　do　what　I　can。　
　　Again　he　felt　small　and　humble。　He　felt　all　the　great　forces　of　the　world　at　work　against　him；　against　the　only　man　still　alive　who　could　think　and　plan　for　the　future。　He　had　tried　to　face　them　head…on；　and　they　had　rolled　over　him。　Yes；　they　might　well　have　been　too　much；　even　if　Joey　had　lived。　He　must　plan　more　shrewdly　now；　work　more　subtly；　select　smaller　and　more　practical　objectives；　be　the　fox　and　not　the　lion。　
　　But　first　he　must　regain　physical　strength。　Two　or　three　weeks　more；　it　would　take　him。　Even　so；　well　before　the　end　of　the　year；　he　would　be　able　to　do　something。　
　　Immediately　he　felt　his　mind　turn　over　and　start　to　work。　A　good　mind！　He　found　himself　appraising　his　own　brain；　as　if　it　were　a　trusty　instrument　or　machine…old；　but　still　functioning　smoothly。　
　　Yet　he　was　very　weak；　and　before　he　had　done　much　thinking；　he　slept　again。　
　　Perhaps　there　were　too　many　people；　too　many　old　ways　of　thinking；　too　many　books。　Perhaps　the　ruts　of　thinking　had　grown　too　deep　and　the　refuse　of　the　past　lay　too　heavy　around　us；　like　piles　of　garbage　and　old　clothes？　Why　should　not　the　philosopher　wele　the　wiping…out　of　it　all　and　a　new　start　and　men　playing　the　game　with　fresh　rules？　There　would　be；　perhaps；　more　gain　than　loss。　During　the　weeks　of　the　epidemic；　the　few　who　remained　well　had　been　able　to　give　only　hasty　burial　to　those　who　died。　
　　After　the　convalescents　were　again　on　their　feet；　George　and　Maurine　and　Molly　raised　the　question　of　a　funeral　service。　
　　Ish；　and　Em　with　him；　would　have　been　glad　to　let　the　situation　rest　as　it　was。　He　realized；　however；　that　the　others　would　be　happier　if　a　service　should　be　performed。　A　service　might　also　be　of　some　practical　value；　to　mark　a　definite　end　to　this　period　of　emergency　and　fear　and　death；　and　signalize　a　return　to　a　normal　and　forward…looking　life。　Although　he　dreaded　the　renewal　of　grief　for　Joey　that　such　a　service　might　bring　him　personally；　still　he　felt　that　after　it　he　could　move　on　toward　whatever　more　modest　plans　for　the　future　he　could　finally　work　out。　
　　So　he　made　the　suggestion　that　the　services　should　be　held　and　that　on　the　day　following　them　all　normal　activities　should　be　resumed。　Although　he　had　not　given　any　special　thought　to　the　resumption　of　school；　he　found　that　the　others　naturally　assumed　it；　and　he　could　only　acquiesce。　
　　By　mon　consent　Ezra　was　placed　in　charge　of　the　services。　He　chose　to　hold　them　very　early　in　the　morning。　
　　As　in　any　munity　where　artificial　light　was　inadequate；　rising…with…the…sun　was　a　habit；　and　they　did　not　have　to　get　out　of　bed　much　earlier　than　usual　to　be　standing　at　the　little　row　of　mounds　before　the　light　was　yet　full。　The　sky　was　clear；　but　the　western　slope　of　the　hills　was　all　in　shade。　Some　tall　pine　trees　standing　by　the　graves　did　not　yet　cast　shadows。　
　　The　season　was　too　late　for　wild　flowers；　but　the　older　children；　at　Ezra's　direction；　had　cut　green　pine…boughs　and　covered　the　mounds。　Although　there　were　only　five　graves；　this　loss　represented　a　major　catastrophe。　In　parison　with　the　small　numbers　of　The　Tribe；　five　deaths　were　more　than　a　hundred　thousand　would　have　been　in　a　city　of　a　million　people。　
　　The　survivors　were　all　there…babies　in　their　mothers'　arms；　little　boys　or　girls　holding　their　fathers'　hands。　
　　Ish　stood；　feeling　the　weight　of　the　hammer　in　his　right　hand。　It　dragged　him　solidly　down　to　the　earth。　He　had　started　without　it；　but　Josey　had　reminded　him；　assuming　that　he　was　merely　forgetful。　The　hammer；　in　the　minds　of　all　the　younger　ones；　marked　a　formal　occasion。　A　few　months　ago；　Ish　would　not　have　yielded；　and　he　would　have　made　a　point　of　talking　to　Josey　about　superstition。　But　today　he　had　brought　the　hammer。　Actually；　he　was　forced　to　admit；　he　himself　was　drawing　fort　from　it。　He　was　humbler　now；　after　all　that　had　happened。　If　The　Tribe　needed　a　symbol　of　strength　and　unity；　if　they　were　happier　with　the　hammer　as　a　rallying　point…who　was　he　to　enforce　rationalism？　Perhaps　rationalism…like　so　much　else…had　only　been　one　of　the　luxuries　which　men　could　afford　under　civilization。　
　　They　had　now　all　arranged　themselves　in　an　irregular　halfcircle；　facing　the　graves；　each　family　grouped　together。　From　his　position　in　the　center　Ish　looked　first　the　one　way　and　then　the　other。　George　was　wearing　a　conservative…looking　dark…gray　suit；　the　very　one　probably　that　he　used　to　wear　to　funerals　when　he　had　been　a　deacon　in　the　Old　Times…or；　if　not　the　same　one；　its　twin。　Maurine　stood　beside　him　in　solid　black；　with　a　veil。　At　least　while　those　two　lived；　the　ancient　proprieties　would　survive。　But　all　the　others　were　clothed　in　the　haphazard　but　fortable　leavings　of　civilization。　The　men　and　boys　wore　blue　jeans　and　sport　shirts；　with　light　wind…breaker　jackets　over　their　shirts　against　the　early　morning　chill。　A　few　of　the　smaller　girls　were　almost　indistinguishable　from　the　boys；　except　for　their　longer　hair；　but　the　women　and　most　of　the　girls　declared　their　femininity　with　skirts；　and　lent　color　by　means　of　red　or　green　or　blue　shawls　or　scarfs。　
　　Ezra　was　walking　forward　to　the　center；　getting　ready　to　begin。　The　light　of　the　sun　behind　the　hill　was　brighter　gold　now；　the　hush　was　deeper。　Ish　felt　his　throat　full。　He　was　moved；　even　though　he　felt　the　ceremony　to　be　meaningless；　and　talk　in　the　presence　of　death　to　be　almost　an　impertinenc