osc.am2.redprophet-第68部分

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　　〃And　if　you　change　the　threads　around；　can't　you　make　things　go　different？〃　Alvin　had　in　mind　a　careful　rearrangement；　spreading　the　threads　out　more　even…like；　and　getting　those　black　threads　farther　apart　from　each　other。
　　〃It　doesn't　work　like　that；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　make　things　happen；　with　what　I　do　here。　Things　that　happen；　they　change　me。　Don't　fret　about　it；　Alvin。〃
　　〃But　there　wasn't　even　White　folks　in　this　part　of　America　more　than　two　hundred　years　ago。　How　can　this　cloth　go　farther　back？〃
　　She　sighed。　〃Isaac；　why　did　you　bring　him　to　plague　me　with　questions？〃
　　Ta…Kumsaw　smiled　at　her。
　　〃Lad；　will　you　tell　no　one？〃　she　asked。　〃Will　you　keep　it　secret　who　I　am　and　what　I　do？〃
　　〃I　promise。〃
　　〃I　weave；　Alvin。　That's　all。　My　whole　family；　from　before　we　even　remember；　we've　been　weavers。〃
　　〃That　your　name；　then？　Becca　Weaver？　My　brother…in…law；　Armor…of…God；　his　pa's　a　Weaver；　and〃
　　〃Nobody　calls　us　weavers；〃　said　Becca。　〃If　they　had　any　name　for　as　at　all；　they'd　call　us　no。〃
　　She　wouldn't　tell　him。
　　〃No；　Alvin；　I　can't　put　such　a　burden　on　you。　Because　you'd　want　to　e。　You'd　want　to　e　and　see。〃
　　〃See　what？〃　asked　Alvin。
　　〃Like　Isaac　here。　I　should　never　have　told　him；　either。〃
　　〃He　kept　the　secret；　though。　Never　breathed　a　word。〃
　　〃He　didn't　keep　it　secret　from　himself；　though。　He　came　to　see。〃
　　〃See　what？〃　Alvin　asked　again。
　　〃See　how　long　are　the　threads　a…flowing　up　into　my　loom。〃
　　Only　then　did　Alvin　notice　the　back　end　of　the　loom；　where　the　warp　threads　were　gathered　into。　place　by　a　rack　of　fine　steel　wires。　The　threads　weren't　colored　at　all。　They　were　raw　white。　Cotton？　Surely　not　wool。　Linen；　maybe。　With　all　the　colors　in　the　finished　cloth；　he　hadn't　really　noticed　what　it　was　made　of。
　　〃Where　do　the　colors　e　from？〃　asked　Alvin。
　　No　one　answered。
　　〃Some　of　the　threads　go　slack。〃
　　〃Some　of　them　end；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃Many　of　them　end；〃　said　Becca。　〃And　many　begin。　It's　the　pattern　of　life。〃
　　〃What　do　you　see；　Alvin？〃　asked　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃If　these　black　threads　are　your　folk；〃　said　Alvin；　〃then　I'd　say　there's　a　battle　ing；　and　a　lot　are　going　to　die。　Not　like　Tippy…Canoe；　though。　Not　as　bad。〃
　　〃That's　what　I　see；　too；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃And　these　other　colors　all　bunched　up；　what　are　they？　An　army　of　White　folk？〃
　　〃Word　is　that　a　man　named　Andrew　Jackson　of　the　western　Tennizy　country　is　gathering　up　an　army。　They　call　him　Old　Hickory。〃
　　〃I　know　the　man；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。　〃He　doesn't　stay　in　the　saddle　too　well。〃
　　〃He's　been　doing　with　White　folks　what　you've　been　doing　with　Red；　Isaac。　He's　been　going　up　and　down　the　western　country；　rousting　people　out　and　haranguing　them　about　the　Red　Menace。　About　you；　Isaac。　For　every　Red　soldier　you've　gathered；　he's　recruited　two　Whites。　And　he　figures　you'll　go　north；　to　join　with　a　French　army。　He　knows　all　your　plans。〃
　　〃He　knows　nothing；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。　〃Alvin；　tell　me；　how　many　threads　of　this　White　army　end？〃
　　〃A　lot。　More；　maybe。　I　don't　know。　It's　about　even。〃
　　〃Then　it　tells　me　nothing。〃
　　〃It　tells　you　that　you'll　have　your　battle；〃　said　Becca。　〃It　tells　you　that　there'll　be　more　blood　and　suffering　in　the　world；　thanks　to　you。〃
　　〃But　it　says　nothing　of　victory；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。
　　〃It　never　does。〃
　　Alvin　wondered　if　you　could　just　tie　another　thread　onto　the　end　of　one　of　the　broken　ones；　and　save　somebody's　life。　He　looked　for　the　spools　of　thread　from　which　the　warp　was　formed；　but　he　couldn't　find　them。　The　threads　hung　down　from　the　back　beam　of　the　loom；　taut　like　there　was　a　heavy　weight　hanging　on　them；　but　Alvin　couldn't　see　where　the　threads　came　from。　They　didn't　touch　the　floor。　They　didn't　exactly　stop；　either。　He　looked　this　far；　and　there　they　were；　hanging　tight　and　long；　and　he　looked　this　much　farther；　and　there　weren't　no　threads；　nothing　there　at　all。　The　threads　were　just　ing　out　of　nowhere；　and　there　was　no　way　the　human　eye　could　see　or　make　sense　of　how　they　started。
　　But　Alvin；　he　could　see　with　other　eyes；　inward　eyes；　the　way　he　studied　into　the　tiny　workings　of　the　human　body；　into　the　cold　inward　currents　of　stone。　And　with　that　hidden　vision　he　looked　into　a　single　thread　and　traced　its　shape；　following　how　the　fibers　wound　around　and　through；　twisting　and　gripping　each　other　to　make　the　strength　of　the　yarn。　This　time　he　could　just　keep　following　the　thread。　Just　keep　on　following　until　finally；　far　beyond　the　place　where　the　threads　all　disappeared　to　natural　eyes；　the　thread　ended。　Whosever　soul　that　thread　bespoke；　he　had　a　good　long　life　ahead　of　him；　before　he　died。
　　All　these　threads　must　end；　when　the　person　dies。　And　somehow　a　new　thread　must　start　up　when　a　baby　got　born。　Another　thread　ing　out　of　nowhere。
　　〃It　never　ends；〃　said　Becca。　〃I'll　grow　old　and　die；　Alvin；　but　the　cloth　will　go　on。〃
　　〃Do　you　know　which　thread　is　you？〃
　　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　want　to　know。〃
　　〃I　reckon　I'd　like　to　see。　I　want　to　know　how　many　years　I　got。〃
　　〃Many；〃　said　Ta…Kumsaw。　〃Or　few。　All　that　matters　is　what　you　do　with　however　many　years　you　have。〃
　　〃It　does　too　matter　how　long　I　live；〃　said　Alvin。　〃Don't　go　saying　it　don't；　cause　you　don't　believe　that　yourself。〃
　　Becca　laughed。
　　〃Miss　Becca；〃　said　Alvin；　〃what　do　you　do　this　for；　if　you　don't　make　things　happen？〃
　　She　shrugged。　〃It's　a　work。　Everybody　has　a　work　to　do；　and　this　is　mine。〃
　　〃You　could　go　out　and　weave　things　for　folks　to　wear。〃
　　〃To　wear　and　then　wear　out；〃　she　said。　〃And　no；　Alvin；　I　can't　go　out。〃
　　〃You　mean　you　stay　indoors　all　the　time？〃
　　〃I　stay　here；　always；〃　she　said。　〃In　this　room；　with　my　loom。〃
　　〃I　begged　you　once　to　go　with　me；〃　said　Isaac。
　　〃And　I　begged　you　once　to　stay。〃　She　smiled　up　at　him。
　　〃I　can't　live　forever　where　the　land　is　dead。〃
　　〃And　I　can't　live　a　moment　away　from　my　cloth。　The　way　the　land　lives　in　your　mind；　Isaac；　that　is　how　the　lives　of　all　the　souls　of　America　live　in　mine。　But　I　love　you。　Even　now。〃
　　Alvin　felt　like　he　shouldn't　be　there。　It　was　like　they　forgot　he　was　there；　even　though　he'd　just　been　talking　to　them。　It　finally　dawned　on　him　that　they'd　probably　rather　be　alone。　So　he　moved　away；　walked　over　to　the　cloth　again；　and　again　began　tracing　its　path；　the　opposite　direction　this　time；　scanning　quickly　but　carefully；　up　the　walls；　through　the　bolts　and　piles；　searching　for　the　earliest　end　of　the　cloth。
　　Couldn't　find　it。　In　fact；　he　must　have　been　looking　the　wrong　direction　or　got　himself　twisted　up；　because　pretty　soon　he　found　himself　on　the　same　familiar　path　he　had　followed；　the　path　that　first　led　him　to　the　loom。　He　reversed　direction；　and　after　a　short　time　he　found　himself　again　on　the　path　to　the　loom。　He　could　no　more　search　backward　to　find　the　oldest　end　of　the　cloth　than　he　could　search　forward　to　find　where　the　newest　threads　were　ing　from。
　　He　turned　again　to　Ta…Kumsaw　and　Becca。　Whatever　whispered　conversation　they　had　carried　on　was　over。　Ta…Kumsaw　sat　cross…legged　on　the　floor　in　front　of　her；　his　head　bowed。　She　was　stroking　his　hair　with　gentle　hands。
　　〃This　cloth　is　older　than　the　oldest　part　of　this　house；〃　said　Alvin。
　　Becca　didn't　answer。
　　〃This　cloth's　been　going　on　forever。〃
　　〃As　long　as　men　and　women　have　known　how　to　weave；　this　cloth　has　passed　through　the　loom。〃
　　〃But　not　this　loom。　This　loom's　new；〃　said　Alvin。
　　〃We　change　looms　from　time　to　time。　We　build　the　new　one　around　the　old。　It's　what　the　men　of　our　kind　do。〃
　　〃This　cloth　is　older　than　the　oldest　White　settlements　in　America；〃　said　Alvin。
　　〃It　was　once　a　part　of　a　larger　cloth。　But　one　day；　back　in　our　old　country；　we　saw　a　large　portion　of　the　threads　moving　off　the　edge　of　the　cloth。　My　great…great…great…great…great…great…grandfather　built　a　new　loom。　We　had　the　threads　we　needed。　They　pulled　away　from　the　old　cloth；　we　continued　it　from　there。　It's　still　connected　up　　that's　what　you're　seeing。〃
　　〃But　now　it's　here。〃
　　〃It's　here　and　there。　Don't　try　to　understand　it；　Alvin。　I　gave　up　long　ago。　But　isn't　it　good　to　know　that　all　of　the　threads　of　life　are　being　wov