Part Three-1
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August 21,1939 MJ. WILL not be hurried, Doctor Copeland said. Just let me be. Kindly allow me to sit here in peace a moment.’
Father, us n to rush you. But it time now to get gone from here.’
Doctor Copeland rocked stubbornly, his gray shawl drawn close around his shoulders. Although the m was warm and fresh, a small wood fire burned iove. The kit was bare of all
furniture except the chair in which he sat. The other rooms were empty, too. Most of the furniture had been moved to Portias house, and the rest was tied to the automobile outside. All was in readiness except his own mind. But how could he leave when there was her beginning nor end, her truth nor purpose in his thoughts? He put up his hand to steady his trembling head and tio rock himself slowly in the creakingchair.
Behind the closed door he heard their voices: I done all I . He determio sit there till he good and ready to leave.’
Buddy and me done ed the a plates and------’
Us should have left before the dew dried, said the old man. As is, night liable to catch us on the road.’
Their voices quieted. Footsteps echoed in the empty hallway and he could hear them no more. On the floor beside him and saucer. He filled it with coffee from the pot oop of the stove.
As he rocked he drankthe coffee and warmed his fingers ieam. This could not truly be the end. Other voices called wordless in his heart. The voice of Jesus and of John Brown. The voice of the great Spinoza and of Karl Marx. The calling voices of all those who had fought and to whom it had been vouchsafed to plete their missions. The grief-bound voices of his people. And also the voice of the dead. Of the mute Singer, who was a righteous white man of uanding. The voices of the weak and of the mighty. The , rolling voice of his people growing always in strength and in power. The voice of the strong, true purpose. And in ahe words trembled on his lips—the words which are surely the root of all human grief—so that he almost said aloud: Almighty Host! Utmost power of the universe! I have dohose things which I ought not to have done a uhose things which I ought to have done.
So this ot truly be the end.’
He had first e into the house with her whom he loved.
And Daisy was dressed in her bridal gown and wore a white lace veil. Her skin was the beautiful color of dark honey and her laughter was sweet. At night he had shut himself in the bright room to study alone. He had tried to cogitate and to
discipline himself to study. But with Daisy near him there was a strong desire in him that would not go away with study. So sometimes he surreo these feelings, and agai his lips aated with the books throughout the night.
And then there were Hamilton and Karl Marx and William and Portia. All lost. No one remained.
And Madyben and Benny Mae. And Benedine Madine and Mady Copeland. Those who carried his name. And those whom he had exhorted. But out of the thousands of them where was there oo whom he could entrust the mission and then take ease? ,All of his life he had known it strongly. He had known the reason for his w and was sure in his heart because he knew each day what lay ahead of him. He would go with his bag from house to house, and on all things he would talk to them and patiently explain. And then in the night he would be happy in the knowledge that the day had been a day of purpose. And even without Daisy and Hamilton and Karl Marx and William and Portia hecould sit by the stove alone and take joy from this knowledge.
He would drink a pot of turnip-green liquor a a pone of bread. A deep feeling of satisfa would be in him because the day was good.
There were thousands of such times of satisfa. But what had been their meaning? Out of all the years he could think of no work of lasting value.
After a while the door to the hall ened and Portia came in. I re I going to have to dress you like a baby, she said.
Here your shoes and socks. Let me take off your bedroom shoes and put them o to get gone from here pretty soon.’
Why have you dohis to me? he asked bitterly.
What I doo you now?’
You know full well that I do not want to leave. You pressed me into saying yes when I was in no fit dition to make a decision. I wish to remain where I have always been, and you know it.’
Listen to you carry on! Portia said angrily. You done grumbled so much that I nearly worn out. You done fumed and fussed so that I right shamed for you.’
Pshaw! Say what you will. You only e before me like a gnat. I know what I wish and will not be pestered into doing that which is wrong.’
Portia took off his bedroom shoes and unrolled a pair of black cotton socks. Father, less us quit this here argument. Us have all dohe best we know how. It ehe best plan for you to go out with Grandpapa and Hamilton and Buddy.
They going to take good care of you and you going to get well.’
No, I will not, said Doctor Copeland. But I would have recovered here. I know it.’
Who you think could pay the note on this here house? How you think us could feed you? Who you think could take care you here?’
I have always managed, and I ma.’
You just trying to be trary.’
Pshaw! You e before me like a gnat. And I ignore you.’
That certainly is a nice way to talk to me while I trying to put on your shoes and socks.’
I am sorry. Five me, Daughter.Course you sorry, she said. Course we both sorry. Us t afford to quarrel. And besides, once we get you settled on the farm you going to like it. They got the prettiest vegetable garden I ever seen. Make my mouth slobber to think about it.
And chis and two breed sows aeen peach trees.
Ypu just going to be crazy about it there. I sure do wish it was me could get a ce to go.’
I wish so, too.’
How e you so determio grieve?’
I just feel that I have failed, he said.
How you mean you done failed?’
I do not know. Just leave me be, Daughter. Just let me sit here in peace a moment.’
O.K. But us got to get gone from here pretty soon.’
He would be silent. He would sit quietly and ro the chair until the sense of order was in him once more. His head trembled and his bae ached.
I certainly hope this, Portia said. I certainly hope that when I dead and gone as many peoples grieves for me as grieves for
Mr. Singer. I sure would like to know I were going to have as sad a funeral as he had and as many peoples------’
Hush! said Doctor Copeland roughly. "You talk too much.’
But truly with the death of that white man a dark sorrow had lain down in his heart. He had talked to him as to no other white man and had trusted him. And the mystery of his suicide had left him baffled and without support. There was her beginning o this sorrow. Nor uanding. Always he would return in his thoughts to this white man who was not i or scor<var></var>nful but who was just. And how the dead be truly dead wheill live in the souls of those who are left behind? But of all this he must not think. He must thrust it from him now.
For it was discipline he needed. During the past month the black, terrible feelings had arisen again to wrestle with his spirit. There was the hatred that for days had truly let him down into the regions of death. After the quarrel with Mr.
Blounti the midnight visitor, there had been in him a murderous darkness. Yet now he could not clearly recall those issues which were the cause of their dispute. Ahe different ahat came in him when he looked oumps of Willies legs. The warring love and hatred —love for his people and hatred for the oppressors of his people—that left him exhausted and si spiritDaughter, he said. Get me my watd coat. I am going.’
He pushed himself up with the arms of the chair. The floor seemed a far way from his fad after the long time in bed his legs were very weak. For a moment he felt he would fall.
He walked dizzily across the bare room and stood leaning against the side of the doorway. He coughed and took from his pocket one of the squares of paper to hold over his mouth.
Here your coat, Portia said. But it so hot outside you not going to .’
He walked for the last time through the empty house. The blinds were closed and in the darkened rooms there was the smell of dust. He rested against the wall of the vestibule and the outside. The m was bright and warm. Many friends had e to say good-bye the night before and in the
very early m—but now only the family was gregated on the porch. The wagon and the automobile were parked out ireet.
Well, Be Mady, the old man said. I re yoa ghy be a little bit homesick these first few days. But wont be long.’
I do not have any home. So why should T be homesick?*
Portia wet her lips nervously and said: He ing back whenever he get good and ready. Buddy will be glad to ride him to town in the car. Buddy just love to drive.’
The automobile was loaded. Boxes of books were tied to the running-board. The back seat was crowded with two chairs and the filing case. His office desk, legs in the air, had been fasteo the top. But although the car was weighted down the wagon was almost empty. The mule stood patiently, a brick tied to his reins.<q></q>
Karl Marx, Doctor Copeland said. I^ook sharp. Go over the house and make sure that nothing is left. Bring the cup I left on the floor and my rog-chair.’
Less us get started. I anxious to be home by diime, Hamilton said.At last they were ready. Highboy ked the automobile.
Karl Marx sat at the wheel and Portia, Highboy, and William were crowded together on the back seat.
Father, suppose you set on Highboys lap. I believe you be more fortable than scrouged up here with us and all this furniture.’
*No, it is too crowded. I would rather ride in the wagon.’
But you not used to the wagon, Karl Marx said. It going to be very bumpy and the trip liable to take all day.’
"That does not matter. I have ridden in many a wagon before this.’
Tell Hamilton to e with us. I sure he rather ride iomobile.’
Grandpapa had driven the wagon into town the day before.
They brought with them a load of produce, peaches and cabbages and turnips, for Hamilton to sell in town. All except a sack of peaches had been marketed.
Well, Be Mady, I see you riding home with me, the old man said.
Doctor Copeland climbed into the back of the wagon. He was weary as though his bones were made of lead. His head trembled and a sudden spasm of nausea made him lie down flat on the rough boards.
I right glad you ing, Grandpapa said. You uand I always had deep respect for scholars. Deep respect I able to overlook and fet a good many things if a man be a scholar.
I very glad to have a scholar like you in the fambly again.’
The wheels of the wagon creaked. They were on the way. I will return soon, Doctor Copeland said. After only a month or two I will return.’
Hamilton he a right good scholar. I think he favors you some.
He do all my figuring on paper for ></a>me and he read the neers. And Whitman I think he ghy be a scholar. Right now he able to read the Bible to me. And do number work.
Small a child as he is. I always had a deep respect for scholars.’
The motion of the wagon jolted his back. He looked up at the branches overhead, and thehere was no shade he covered his face with a handkerchief to shield his eyes from the sun. It was not possible that this could be the end. Always he had felt in him the strong, truepurpose. For forty years his mission was his life and his life was his mission. A all remaio be done and nothing was pleted.
*Yes, Be Mady, I right glad to have you with us again. I been waiting to ask you about this peculiar feeling in my right foot. A queer feeling like my foot goo sleep. I taken and rubbed it with li. I hoping you will find me a good treatment.’
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