He has been listening now, almost attentively, with that ability of his to flux instantaneously between complete attention that does not seem to hear, and that comalike bemusement in which the stare of his apparently inverted eye is as uncomfortable as though he held them with his hand.
He cackles, suddenly, bright, loud, mad; he speaks, incredibly old, incredibly dirty.
“It was the Lord.
He was there.
Old Doc Hines give God His chance too.
The Lord told Old Doc Hines what to do and Old Doc Hines done it.
Then the Lord said to Old Doc Hines,
‘You watch, now.
Watch My will a-working.’
And Old Doc Hines watched and heard the mouths of little children, of God’s own fatherless and motherless, putting His words and knowledge into their mouths even when they couldn’t know it since they were without sin yet, even the girl ones without sin and bitchery yet: Nigger!
Nigger! in the innocent mouths of little children.
‘What did I tell you?’ God said to Old Doc Hines.
‘And now I’ve set My will to working and now I’m gone.
There ain’t enough sin here to keep Me busy because what do I care for the fornications of a slut, since that is a part of My purpose too,’ and Old Doc Hines said,
‘How is the fornications of a slut a part of Your purpose too?’ and God said,
‘You wait and see.
Do you think it is just chanceso that I sent that young doctor to be the one that found My abomination laying wrapped in that blanket on that doorstep that Christmas night?
Do you think it was just chanceso that the Madam should have been away that night and give them young sluts the chance and call to name him Christmas in sacrilege of My son?
So I am gone now, because I have set My will a-working and I can leave you here to watch it.
So Old Doc Hines he watched. and he waited.
From God’s own boiler room he watched them children, and the devil’s walking seed unbeknownst among them, polluting the earth with the working of that word on him.
Because he didn’t play with. the other children no more now.
He stayed by himself, standing still, and then Old Doc Hines knew that he was listening to the hidden warning of God’s doom, and Old Doc Hines said to him,
‘Why don’t you play with them other children like you used to?’ and he didn’t say nothing and Old Doc Hines said,
‘Is it because they call you nigger?’ and he didn’t say nothing and Old Doc Hines said,
‘Do you think you are a nigger because God has marked your face?’ and he said,
‘Is God a nigger too?’ and Old Doc Hines said,
‘He is the Lord God of wrathful hosts, His will be done.
Not yours and not mine, because you and me are both a part of His purpose and His vengeance.’
And he went away and Old Doc Hines watched him hearing and listening to the vengeful will of the Lord, until Old Doc Hines found out how he was watching the nigger working in the yard, following him around the yard while he worked, until at last the nigger said,
‘What you watching me for, boy?’ and he said,
‘How come you are a nigger?’ and the nigger said,
‘Who told you I am a nigger, you little white trash bastard?’ and he says,
‘I ain’t a nigger,’ and the nigger says,
‘You are worse than that.
You don’t know what you are.
And more than that, you won’t never know.
You’ll live and you’ll die and you won’t never know,’ and he says,
‘God ain’t no nigger,’ and the nigger says,
‘I reckon you ought to know what God is, because don’t nobody but God know what you is.’
But God wasn’t there to say, because He had set His will to working and left Old Doc Hines to watch it.
From that very first night, when He had chose His own Son’s sacred anniversary to set it a-working on, He set Old Doc Hines to watch it.
It was cold that night, and Old Doc Hines standing in the dark just behind the corner where he could see the doorstep and the accomplishment of the Lord’s will, and he saw that young doctor coming in lechery and fornication stop and stoop down and raise the Lord’s abomination and tote it into the house.
And Old Doc Hines he followed and he seen and heard., He watched them young sluts that was desecrating the Lord’s sacred anniversary with eggnog and whiskey in the Madam’s absence, open the blanket.
And it was her, the Jezebel of the doctor, that was the Lord’s instrument, that said,
‘We’ll name him Christmas,’ and another one said,
‘What Christmas.
Christmas what,’ and God said to Old Doc Hines,
‘Tell them,’ and they all looked at Old Doc Hines with the reek of pollution on them, hollering,
‘Why, it’s Uncle Doc.