《高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain》go tell it on the mountain-第8章

alf　a　day。　Roy　was　sitting　inthe　kitchen；　quarrelling　with　their　mother。　The　baby；　Ruth；　sat　in　her　high　chair　banging　on　the　traywith　an　oatmeal…covered　spoon。　This　meant　that　she　was　in　a　good　mood；　she　would　not　spend　theday　howling；　for　reasons　known　only　to　herself；　allowing　no　one　but　her　mother　to　touch　her。
Sarah　was　quiet；　not　chattering　to…day；　or　at　any　rate　not　yet；　and　stood　near　the　stove；　arms　folded；staring　at　Roy　with　the　flat　black　eyes；　her　father’s　eyes；　that　made　her　look　so　old。
Their　mother；　her　head　tied　up　in　an　old　rag；　sipped　black　coffee　and　watched　Roy。　Thepale　end…of…winter　sunlight　filled　the　room　and　yellowed　all　their　faces；　and　John；　drugged　andmorbid　and　wondering　how　it　was　that　he　had　slept　again　and　had　been　allowed　to　sleep　so　long；saw　them　for　a　moment　like　figures　on　a　screen；　an　effect　that　the　yellow　light　intensified。　Theroom　was　narrow　and　dirty；　nothing　could　alter　its　dimensions；　no　labor　could　ever　make　it　clean。
Dirt　was　in　the　walls　and　the　floorboards；　and　triumphed　beneath　the　sink　where　the　cockroachesspawned；　was　in　the　fine　ridges　of　the　pots　and　pans；　scoured　daily；　burnt　black　on　the　bottom；hanging　above　the　stove；　was　in　the　wall　against　which　they　hung；　and　revealed　itself　where　thepaint　had　cracked　and　leaned　outents；　the　paper…thin　undersidewebbed　with　black。　Dirt　was　in　every　corner；　angle；　crevice　of　the　monstrous　stove；　and　livedbehind　it　in　delirious　munion　with　the　corrupted　wall。　Dirt　was　in　the　baseboard　that　Johnscrubbed　every　Sunday；　and　roughened　the　cupboard　shelves　that　held　the　cracked　and　gleamingdishes。　Under　this　dark　weight　the　walls　leaned；　under　it　the　ceiling；　with　a　great　crack　likelightning　in　its　center；　sagged。　The　windows　gleamed　like　beaten　gold　or　silver；　but　now　John　saw；in　the　yellow　light；　how　fine　dust　veiled　their　doubtful　glory。　Dirt　crawled　in　the　gray　mop　hungout　of　the　windows　to　dry。　John　thought　with　shame　and　horror；　yet　in　angry　hardness　of　heart：　Hewho　is　filthy；　let　him　be　filthy　still。　Then　he　looked　at　his　mother；　seeing；　as　though　she　weresomeone　else；　the　dark；　hard　lines　running　downward　from　her　eyes；　and　the　deep；　perpetual　scowlin　her　forehead；　and　the　downturned；　tightened　mouth；　and　the　strong；　thin；　brown；　and　bonyhands；　and　the　phrase　turned　against　him　like　a　two…edged　sword；　for　was　it　not　he；　in　his　falsepride　and　his　evil　imagination；　who　was　filthy？　Through　a　storm　of　tears　that　did　not　reach　hiseyes；　he　stared　at　the　yellow　room；　and　the　room　shifted；　the　light　of　the　sun　darkened；　and　hismother’s　face　changed。　He　face　became　the　face　that　he　gave　her　in　his　dreams；　the　face　that　hadbeen　hers　in　a　photograph　he　had　seen　once；　long　ago；　a　photograph　taken　before　he　was　born。　Thisface　was　young　and　proud；　uplifted；　with　a　smile　that　made　the　wide　mouth　beautiful　and　glowedin　the　enormous　eyes。　It　was　the　face　of　a　girl　who　knew　that　no　evikl　could　undo　her；　and　whocould　laugh；　surely；　as　his　mother　did　not　laugh　now。　Between　the　two　faces　there　stretched　adarkness　and　a　mystery　that　John　feared；　and　that　sometimes　caused　him　to　hate　her。
Now　she　saw　him　and　she　asked；　breaking　off　her　conversation　with　Roy：　‘You　hungry；little　sleepyhead？’
‘Well！　About　time　you　was　getting　up；’　said　Sarah。
He　moved　to　the　table　and　sat　down；　feeling　the　most　bewildering　panic　of　his　life；　a　needto　touch　things；　the　table　and　chairs　and　the　walls　of　the　room；　to　make　certain　that　the　roomexisted　and　that　he　was　in　the　room。　He　did　not　look　at　his　mother；　who　stood　up　and　went　to　thestove　to　heat　his　breakfast。　But　he　asked；　in　order　to　say　something　to　her；　and　to　hear　his　ownvoice：
‘What　we　got　for　breakfast？’
He　realized；　with　some　shame；　that　he　was　hoping　she　had　prepared　a　special　breakfast　forhim　on　his　birthday。
‘What　you　think　we　got　for　breakfast？’　Roy　asked　scornfully。　‘You　got　a　special　cravingfor　something？’
John　looked　at　him。　Roy　was　not　in　a　good　mood。
‘I　ain’t　said　nothing　to　you；’　he　said。
‘Oh；　I　beg　your　pardon；’　said　Roy；　in　the　shrill；　little…girl　tone　he　knew　John　hated。
‘What’s　the　matter　with　you　to…day？’　John　asked；　angry；　and　trying　at　the　same　time　to　lendhis　voice　as　husky　a　pitch　as　possible。
‘Don’t　you　let　Roy　bother　you；’　said　their　mother。　‘He　cross　as　two　sticks　this　morning。’
‘Yeah；’　said　John；　‘I　reckon。’　He　and　Roy　watched　each　other。　Then　his　plate　was　putbefore　him：　hominy　grits　and　a　scrap　of　bacon。　He　wanted　to　cry；　like　a　child：　‘But；　Mama；　it’s　mybirthday！’　He　kept　his　eyes　on　his　plate　and　began　to　eat。
‘You　can　talk　about　your　Daddy　all　you　want　to；’　said　his　mother；　picking　up　her　battlewith　Roy；　‘but　one　thing　you　can’t　say—you　can’t　say　he　ain’t　always　done　his　best　to　be　a　fatherto　you　and　to　see　to　it　that　you　ain’t　never　gone　hungry。’
‘I　been　hungry　plenty　of　times；’　Roy　said；　proud　to　be　able　to　score　this　point　against　hismother。
‘Wasn’t　his　fault；　then。　Wasn’t　because　he　wasn’t　trying　to　feed　you。　Than　man　shoveledsnow　in　zero　weather　when　he　ought’ve　been　in　bed　just　to　put　food　in　your　belly。’
‘Wasn’t　just　my　belly；’　said　Roy　indignantly。　‘He　got　a　belly；　too；　I　know—it’s　a　shame　theway　that　man　eats。　I　sure　ain’t　asked　him　to　shovel　no　snow　for　me。’　But　he　dropped　his　eyes；suspecting　a　flaw　in　his　argument。　‘I　just　don’t　want　him　beating　on　me　all　the　time；’　he　said　atlast。　‘I　ain’t　no　dog。’
She　sighed；　and　turned　slightly　away；　looking　out　of　the　window。　‘Your　Daddy　beats　you；’
she　said；　‘because　he　loves　you。’
Roy　laughed。　‘That　ain’t　the　kind　of　love　I　understand；　old　lady。　What　you　reckon　he’d　doif　he　didn’t　love　me？’
‘He’d　let　you　go　right　on；’　she　flashed；　‘right　on　down　to　hell　where　it　looks　like　you　is　justdetermined　to　go　anyhow！　Right　on；　Mister　Man；　till　somebody　puts　a　knife　in　you；　or　takes　youoff　to　jail！’
‘Mama；’　John　asked　suddenly；　‘is　Daddy　a　good　man？’
He　had　not　known　that　he　was　going　to　ask　the　question；　and　he　watched　in　astonishment　asher　mouth　tightened　and　her　eyes　grew　dark。
‘That　ain’t　no　kind　of　question；’　she　said　mildly。　‘You　don?