Chapter 4

           ThatSaturdaymorningseemedtohaveapattern.Iwonderwhetheralldayshave.Itwasawithdrawnday.ThelittlegraywhisperofmyAuntDeborahcametome,"Ofcourse,Jesusisdead.Thisistheonlydayintheworld’sdayswhenHeisdead.Andallmenandwomenaredeadtoo.JesusisinHell.Buttomorrow.Justwaituntiltomorrow.Thenyou’llseesomething."

           Idon’trememberherveryclearly,thewayyoudon’tremembersomeonetooclosetolookat.ButshereadtheScripturetomelikeadailynewspaperandIsupposethat’sthewayshethoughtofit,assomethinggoingonhappeningeternallybutalwaysexcitingandnew.EveryEaster,Jesusreallyrosefromthedead,anexplosion,expectedbutnonethelessnew.Itwasn’ttwothousandyearsagotoher;itwasnow.Andsheplantedsomethingofthatinme.

           Ican’trememberwantingtoopenthestorebefore.IthinkIhatedeverysluggishslovenofamorning.ButthisdayIwantedtogo.IlovemyMarywithallmyheart,insomewaysmuchbetterthanmyself,butitisalsotruethatIdonotalwayslistentoherwithcompleteattention.Whenshetellsthechronicleofclothesandhealthandconversationswhichpleaseandenlightenher,Idonotlistenatall,sothatsometimessheexclaims,"Butyoushouldhaveknown.Itoldyou.IrememberveryclearlytellingyouonThursdaymorning."Andthere’snodoubtatallaboutthat.Shedidtellme.Shetellsmeeverythingincertainareas.

           ThismorningInotonlydidn’tlisten,Iwantedtogetawayfromit.