Going to Meet the Man (4 page)

At this they all laughed and Sylvia said in her mild voice, looking mockingly at Roy, “Maybe we’ll even see Brother Roy Shout.” Roy grinned.

“Like to see you do some Shouting too,” her mother grumbled. “You got to get closer to the Lord.” Sylvia smiled and bit her lip; she cast a glance at David.

“Now everybody ain’t got the same kind of spirit,” Brother Elisha said, coming to Sylvia’s aid. “Can’t
all
make as much noise as you make,” he said, laughing gently, “we all ain’t got your energy.”

Sister Daniels smiled and frowned at this reference to her size and passion and said, “Don’t care, brother, when the Lord moves inside you, you bound to do something. I’ve seen that girl Shout all night and come back the next night and Shout some more. I don’t believe in no dead religion, no sir. The saints of God need a revival.”

“Well, we’ll work on Sister Sylvia,” said Brother Elisha.

Directly before and behind them stretched nothing but the river, they had long ago lost sight of the point of their departure. They steamed beside the Palisades, which rose rough and gigantic from the dirty, broad and blue-green Hudson. Johnnie and David and Roy wandered downstairs to the bottom deck, standing by the rail and leaning over to watch the white, writhing spray which followed the boat. From the river there floated up to their faces a soft, cool breeze. They were quiet for a long time, standing together, watching the river and the mountains and hearing vaguely the hum of activity behind them on the boat. The sky was high and blue, with here and there a spittle-like, changing cloud; the sun was orange and beat with anger on their uncovered heads.

And David muttered finally, “Be funny if they were right.”

“If who was right?” asked Roy.

“Elisha and them—”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Johnnie.

“Yes,” said Roy, “and I ain’t homesick for heaven yet.”

“You always got to be so smart,” David said.

“Oh,” said Roy, “you just sore because Sylvia’s still up there with Brother Elisha.”

“You think they going to be married?” Johnnie asked.

“Don’t talk like a fool,” David said.

“Well it’s a cinch you ain’t never going to get to talk to her till you get saved,” Johnnie said. He had meant to say ‘we.’ He looked at David and smiled.

“Might be worth it,” David said.

“
What
might be worth it?” Roy asked, grinning.

“Now be nice,” David said. He flushed, the dark blood rising beneath the dark skin. “How you expect me to get saved if you going to talk that way? You supposed to be an example.”

“Don’t look at me, boy,” Roy said.

“I want you to talk to Johnnie,” Gabriel said to his wife.

“What about?”

“That boy’s pride is running away with him. Ask him to tell you what he said to me this morning soon as he got in front of his friends. He’s your son, alright.”

“What did he say?”

He looked darkly across the river. “You ask him to tell you about it tonight. I wanted to knock him down.”

She had watched the scene and knew this. She looked at her husband briefly, feeling a sudden, outraged anger, barely conscious; sighed and turned to look at her youngest child where he sat involved in a complicated and strenuous and apparently joyless game which utilized a red ball, jacks, blocks and a broken shovel.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said at last. “He’ll be alright.” She wondered what on earth she would say to him; and what he would say to her. She looked covertly about the boat, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“That proud demon’s just eating him up,” he said bitterly. He watched the river hurtle past. “Be the best thing in the world if the Lord would take his soul.” He had meant to say ‘save’ his soul.

Now it was noon and all over the boat there was the activity of lunch. Paper bags and huge baskets were opened. There was then revealed splendor: cold pork chops, cold chicken, bananas, apples, oranges, pears, and soda-pop, candy and cold lemonade. All over the boat the chosen of God relaxed; they sat in groups and talked and laughed; some of the more worldly gossiped and some of the more courageous young people dared to walk off together. Beneath them the strong, indifferent river raged within the channel and the screaming spray pursued them. In the engine room children watched the motion of the ship’s gears as they rose and fell and chanted. The tremendous bolts of steel seemed almost human, imbued with a relentless force that was not human. There was something monstrous about this machine which bore such enormous weight and cargo.

Sister Daniels threw a paper bag over the side and wiped her mouth with her large handkerchief. “Sylvia, you be careful how you speak to these unsaved boys,” she said.

“Yes, I am, Mama.”

“Don’t like the way that little Jackson boy looks at you. That child’s got a demon. You be careful.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“You got plenty of time to be thinking about boys. Now’s the time for you to be thinking about the Lord.”

“Yes’m.”

“You
mind
now,” her mother said.

“Mama, I want to go home!” Lois cried. She crawled into her mother’s arms, weeping.

“Why, what’s the matter, honey?” She rocked her daughter gently. “Tell Mama what’s the matter? Have you got a pain?”

“I want to go home, I want to go home.” Lois sobbed.

“A very fine preacher, a man of God and a friend of mine will run the service for us,” said Father James.

“Maybe you’ve heard about him—a Reverend Peters? A real man of God, amen.”

“I thought,” Gabriel said, smiling, “that perhaps I could bring the message some Sunday night. The Lord called me a long time ago. I used to have my own church down home.”

“You don’t want to run too fast, Deacon Grimes,” Father James said. “You just take your time. You been coming along right well on Young Ministers’ Nights.” He paused and looked at Gabriel. “Yes, indeed.”

“I just thought,” Gabriel said humbly, “that I could be used to more advantage in the house of God.”

Father James quoted the text which tells us how preferable it is to be a gate-keeper in the house of God than to dwell in the tent of the wicked; and started to add the dictum from Saint Paul about obedience to those above one in the Lord but decided (watching Gabriel’s face) that it was not necessary yet.

“You just keep praying,” he said kindly. “You get a little closer to God. He’ll work wonders. You’ll see.” He bent closer to his deacon. “And try to get just a little closer to the
people.
”

Roy wandered off with a gawky and dazzled girl named Elizabeth. Johnnie and David wandered restlessly up and down the boat alone. They mounted to the topmost deck and leaned over the railing in the deserted stern. Up here the air was sharp and clean. They faced the water, their arms around each other.

“Your old man was kind of rough this morning,” David said carefully, watching the mountains pass.

“Yes,” Johnnie said. He looked at David’s face against the sky. He shivered suddenly in the sharp, cold air and buried his
face in David’s shoulder. David looked down at him and tightened his hold.

“Who do you love?” he whispered. “Who’s your boy?”

“You,” he muttered fiercely, “I love you.”

“Roy!” Elizabeth giggled, “
Roy Grimes.
If you
ever
say a thing like that
again.
”

Now the service was beginning. From all corners of the boat there was the movement of the saints of God. They gathered together their various possessions and moved their chairs from top and bottom decks to the large main hall. It was early afternoon, not quite two o’clock. The sun was high and fell everywhere with a copper light. In the city the heat would have been insupportable; and here, as the saints filed into the huge, high room, once used as a ballroom, to judge from the faded and antique appointments, the air slowly began to be oppressive. The room was the color of black mahogany and coming in from the bright deck, one groped suddenly in darkness; and took one’s sense of direction from the elegant grand piano which stood in the front of the room on a little platform.

They sat in small rows with one wide aisle between them, forming, almost unconsciously, a hierarchy. Father James sat in the front next to Sister McCandless. Opposite them sat Gabriel and Deacon Jones and, immediately behind them, Sister Daniels and her daughter. Brother Elisha walked in swiftly, just as they were beginning to be settled. He strode to the piano and knelt down for a second before rising to take his place. There was a quiet stir, the saints adjusted themselves, waiting while Brother Elisha tentatively ran his fingers over the keys. Gabriel looked about impatiently for Roy and Johnnie, who, engaged no doubt in sinful conversation with David, were not yet in service. He looked back to where Mrs. Jackson
sat with Lorraine, uncomfortable smiles on their faces, and glanced at his wife, who met his questioning regard quietly, the expression on her face not changing.

Brother Elisha struck the keys and the congregation joined in the song,
Nothing Shall Move Me from the Love of God
, with tambourine and heavy hands and stomping feet. The walls and the floor of the ancient hall trembled and the candelabra wavered in the high ceiling. Outside the river rushed past under the heavy shadow of the Palisades and the copper sun beat down. A few of the strangers who had come along on the outing appeared at the doors and stood watching with an uneasy amusement. The saints sang on, raising their strong voices in praises to Jehovah and seemed unaware of those unsaved who watched and who, some day, the power of the Lord might cause to tremble.

The song ended as Father James rose and faced the congregation, a broad smile on his face. They watched him expectantly, with love. He stood silent for a moment, smiling down upon them. Then he said, and his voice was loud and filled with triumph:

“Well, let us all say, Amen!”

And they cried out obediently, “Well, Amen!”

“Let us all say, praise Him!”

“Praise Him!”

“Let us all say, hallelujah!”

“Hallelujah!”

“Well, glory!” cried Father James. The Holy Ghost touched him and he cried again, “Well, bless Him! Bless His holy name!”

They laughed and shouted after him, their joy so great that they laughed as children and some of them cried as children do; in the fullness and assurance of salvation, in the knowledge that the Lord was in their midst and that each heart, swollen to anguish, yearned only to be filled with His glory. Then, in
that moment, each of them might have mounted with wings like eagles far past the sordid persistence of the flesh, the depthless iniquity of the heart, the doom of hours and days and weeks; to be received by the Bridegroom where He waited on high in glory; where all tears were wiped away and death had no power; where the wicked ceased from troubling and the weary soul found rest.

“Saints, let’s praise Him,” Father James said. “Today, right in the middle of God’s great river, under God’s great roof, beloved, let us raise our voices in thanksgiving that God has seen fit to save us, amen!”

“Amen! Hallelujah!”

“—and to keep us saved, amen, to keep us, oh glory to God, from the snares of Satan, from the temptation and the lust and the evil of this world!”

“Talk about it!”

“
Preach!
”

“Ain’t nothing strange, amen, about worshiping God
wherever
you might be, ain’t that right? Church, when you get this mighty salvation you just can’t keep it in, hallelujah! you got to talk about it—”

“Amen!”

“You got to live it, amen. When the Holy Ghost touches you, you
move
, bless God!”

“Well, it’s so!”

“Want to hear some testimonies today, amen! I want to hear some
singing
today, bless God! Want to see some
Shouting
, bless God, hallelujah!”

“Talk about it!”

“And I don’t want to see none of the saints hold back. If the Lord saved you, amen, He give you a witness
every
where you go. Yes! My soul is a witness, bless our God!”

“Glory!”

“If you ain’t saved, amen, get up and praise Him anyhow.
Give God the glory for sparing your sinful life,
praise
Him for the sunshine and the rain, praise Him for all the works of His hands. Saints, I want to hear some praises today, you hear me? I want you to make this old boat
rock
, hallelujah! I want to
feel
your salvation. Are you saved?”

“Amen!”

“Are you sanctified?”

“Glory?”

“Baptized in fire?”

“Yes! So glad!”

“
Testify!
”

Now the hall was filled with a rushing wind on which forever rides the Lord, death or healing indifferently in His hands. Under this fury the saints bowed low, crying out “holy!” and tears fell. On the open deck sinners stood and watched, beyond them the fiery sun and the deep river, the black-brown-green, unchanging cliffs. That sun, which covered earth and water now, would one day refuse to shine, the river would cease its rushing and its numberless dead would rise; the cliffs would shiver, crack, fall and where they had been would then be nothing but the unleased wrath of God.

“Who’ll be the first to tell it?” Father James cried. “Stand up and talk about it!”

Brother Elisha screamed, “Have mercy, Jesus!” and rose from the piano stool, his powerful frame possessed. And the Holy Ghost touched him and he cried again, bending nearly double, while his feet beat ageless, dreadful signals on the floor, while his arms moved in the air like wings and his face, distorted, no longer his own face not the face of a young man, but timeless, anguished, grim with ecstasy, turned blindly toward heaven.
Yes, Lord
, they cried,
yes!

“Dearly beloved …”

“Talk about it!”

“Tell it!”

“I want to thank and praise the Lord, amen …”

“Amen!”

“… for being here, I want to thank Him for my life, health, and strength.…”

“Amen!”

“Well, glory!”

“… I want to thank Him, hallelujah, for saving my soul one day….”

“
Oh!
”