Dominion Read Free Page B

Jasper, as each parishioner spoke in the voice of his guiding genius. “It seems hypocritical to tolerate in the flesh what you would not in words or in the spirit.”
    His words went unremarked upon, but all knew they were a reference to their outland neighbor. Merian himself sat rigid and did not need to look at the parishioners to know that their eyes were on him, in either judgment or sympathy. His own emotions, though, clenched up as he tried to contain them. When the service was over, he bundled himself again, made his way back into the unrelenting rain, and started out to his own lands, wondering where else now to find a woman.
    On the unpaved road he spied Content and tucked his head into his coat, trying to go on unrecognized.
    â€œI am sorry we were not there, but Dorthea has come down sick. I spent the morning at her bedside,” Content said, after catching up to him.
    As Merian listened to these words he could barely look at the man without anger. For the sake of former friendship, he held back from saying that it was an outright lie he was hearing and had walked seven miles through the rain to suffer. He felt a great anger at his circumstances. If he were more prosperous, he explained to himself, there would be no need to resort to desperate works to achieve his ends and desires in the world.
    â€œLet me make it up to you,” his friend offered. “Next week we are celebrating Easter and would be much pleased if you came.”
    â€œIt is a fairly long way, especially in weather,” Merian reflected, letting his accusation hang there as Content looked at him. “I will see how it is next week.”
    â€œWell, we would be much pleased,” Content said again. “And I am sure there is bound to be a woman there or two. I know at least Dorthea’s cousin is coming from the coast.”
    â€œI will see what the weather is,” Merian replied. “It is not so short a way for someone walking in foul elements.” At that he took his leave, bundling himself back into a knot of angry shivers and tension that warmed his muscles briefly against the springtime cold.
    The next week brought nothing but more weather, and Sunday was the wettest day among them. Under his roof, Merian pattered about, preparing his porridge and trying to decide whether he would go into town or not. He listened to the spikes of rain hammering the boards and, in his own self, felt emotions hard and bitter that the growing season had still not arrived and his fields remained untilled. Beyond this, he felt a deep sense of gnawing discomfort that was not so sharp or hateful as hunger but reminded him of an abiding sickness. He knew it was loneliness that roiled within him, for he had been out on the land over a year and a half with scarce any human company. Still, he was surprised to find it so sharp within himself, for he seldom felt need for association of any kind. He remembered then the celebrations of springtime they had had back in Virginia, and how he felt among them like part of the company, even if he could not always share fully in their belief. If onlyfor the sake of this remembered fellowship, he resuscitated his expectations, allowing that he might join in the Easter Day services and the festivals that followed.
    He dressed himself diligently before the low flames, taking from a stool beside the fire his pants, which he had washed by hand the night before and hung to dry. From a box beneath the bed he removed his other shirt and wrapped it around his body. At the flame again he took a piece of glass and a sharpened knife, which he lifted to his throat and began scraping until his neck and face were passable smooth. Outside, he saddled the mule with the harness it wore when he first liberated it from its former captivity and climbed on top of the animal. Man and beast then were prepared and headed down the road combined in a single quixotic form.
    At the bottom of the hill he listened again to