“Ain’t never thought on it much.”
“I know what the ministers say,” she said. “That God didn’t make slavery.
God only made Man, and Man made slavery.”
“Indeed.”
“But why did God have to make people capable of doing such awful things?”
“That what you be spendin’ your time worryin’ on?” He rose to feed a log to the fire.
“Not so much any more. When I was little I used to wonder a lot about things
like that. You know, why people have to go through all they do, when they’re just going to die in the end anyway. You might as well up and die now – save yourself all the trouble in between.”
“Folks seem to like bein’ alive. Know I do.”
“But don’t you ever wonder why God made the world?”
He shrugged. “Guess I been luckier than you. I spent my life busy wondering
if I’m a have a place to sleep tonight. So when you stop worryin’ on all that stuff?”
“One day I heard someone talking. Remember that raggedy old peddler that
used to come through Five Rocks? The one with the cart with those big red
wheels? One day there were two men out in the street, having a big argument about whose religion was right, the Catholics or the Presbyterians. That peddler
came along and shut them both up. He said no one is right. That it’s impossible
for a person to be right. He said that if God does exist, there’s one thing for sure
about Him – He never meant for human beings to know the answers to those
questions. If they did, then they wouldn’t be people. They’d be God. He said it’s
just like your eyes can’t see everything, and your ears can’t hear everything, so
your brain can’t understand those things. So it’s no use wondering.”
“Bet you give him what for.”
“No. I liked what he said. Thinking about that stuff had been making me
crazy. But it still doesn’t seem right to me, all the bad things that go on, and God
just sitting up there watching.”
“Damn.” Mourning slapped his neck. “You see that one? Big as a
hummingbird. Took a bite right out a me. Shoot.” He slapped himself again.
“God sure coulda done without creatin’ these goldarn Pontiacer flies. They
gonna get worse, the hotter it get. Then in the summer they say ox flies gonna
come out. Folks say they can eat right into the hide of a cow. They like to land
on the brisket, right where poor Dixby and Dougan ain’t gonna be able to chase
’em away. We gonna have to start rubbing ’em with turpentine and grease.”
They sat in silence after that, listening to the night sounds, until Olivia felt the
darkness like a weight and went to bed.
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning Olivia eagerly threw off the comforter. They were going to
do something different! She made a tangle of the clothes in her baskets,
searching for the soft green Sunday dress that she kept rolled up in a petticoat.
The smooth wooden floor was cool against her feet as she stepped into three petticoats. She was dressed and slipping her feet into her Roman sandals when three loud hand claps sounded outside the canvas flap – Mourning’s way of
telling her that he was impatient to begin the day.
