Mr. Splitfoot

Начало книги

We are approaching the greatest of mysteries.

We float like a mote of dust in the morning sky.

We know that this is impossible.

2

We the people.

We believe all the words which thou hast spoken.

We cannot understand the words.

We fled all that day into the wilderness, even until it was dark.

We commanded the rocks and the mountains to fall upon us to hide us.

We will, we will rock you.

3

We cross this great water in darkness.

We lost a great number of our choice men.

We will change them into cedars.

We see there was no chance they should live forever.

We will change them into cedars.

4

We have spoken, which is the end.

We should call the name.

We should call the name.

We know that this is impossible.

“FAR FROM HERE, THERE’S A CHURCH. Inside the church, there’s a box. Inside the box is Judas’s hand.” Nat is slight and striking as a birch branch.

“Who cut it off?” Ruth asks. “How?”

But Nat’s a preacher in a fever. His lesson continues with a new topic. “Baby deer have no scent when they are born.” Nat conducts the air. “Keeps those babies safe as long as their stinking mothers stay far away.” This is how Nat loves Ruth. He fills her head with his wisdom.

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