Scarlet Sister Mary (1928, Bobbs-Merrill Company)/Chapter 31
The sky was thick with stars, but the earth was black with sadness. Hot grief tore at Mary's heart, almost splitting it in two, yet her eyes stayed dry. Her joints ached, her flesh was sore, but she tried to hold up her head.
Her house had been put in order before she got home. Supper was cooking on the hearth, the bed and chairs were in place, burning rags were trying to drive out the scent of death which still tarried thick in the corners. Doll helped Seraphine feed the babies and put them to sleep. She promised to come back in the morning and have all the bed-clothes washed.
Long after everybody else in the house had gone to sleep, Mary lay awake. The night was full of curious sounds that made her sit up and listen. Some of them made her mouth ge dry and the cold sweat pop out all over her. She could hardly keep herself from calling Seraphine and Keepsie to wake up and hear them.
Once, Seraphine's baby cried out, and she hushed it with a few sleepy words. Then the blood-chilling sounds stopped for a minute and started again.
At last dawn rose, the cocks crowed lustily, the cattle lowed, the birds sang. The flies clustering on the wall-papers woke and buzzed and crawled. Mary got up and dressed hurriedly. God had plagued her enough. She would pray until she found peace.
Where could she go and not be seen or heard? The Big House garden held too many ghosts. She hurried down the street, down the hill, toward the thick pine woods. Nobody would find her there. The morning star blazed in the gray east, the night was over. She would spend this day in prayer.
Her misery was not a garment that could be shed. It was mixed in her flesh and blood. Only God could cast it out and heal her.
A deep hush lay at the foot of the pines, but high overhead an early morning breeze moved.
She closed her eyes and fell on her knees and bent her head to the earth. But her tongue and lips and voice had got separated and dumb. Despair threatened her. Misery split the shell of her heart clear in two. She could feel it break and bleed. God's mercy was hardened against her and His hand fell heavy on her; thoughts came into her head, but when she tried to hold to them and get them to speak they slipped away from her like dreams.
She held up her arms to the sky and tears gushed out of her eyes as her lips whispered, "Do, Jedus, look down, hear my heart a-cryin to you." Then suddenly a clear silent voice spoke out of her pain, praying and calling on God.
The bright morning gave place to noon and the voice in her heart prayed steadily on. When her body got too weary and heavy to stay on its knees, she eased it down flat on the ground, moving quietly so as not to disturb her heart's praying. Surely, God could not help hearing and heeding if it kept on calling and calling on Him like this.
The sun, God's own great shadow, stood straight overhead, casting down spots of warm light on her. She raised up and tears fell on her breast for her head was still bent low.
Unex's soul must have climbed high by this time for he was young and strong.
To-day he would stand before his Maker. Unex was not hers any more. Maybe he had never been hers at all. Maum Hannah was always saying that people's children are not their children. Nobody belongs to anybody. Everybody belongs to God.
The shadows grew long and her weary, thirsty body was half asleep. Yet she made it roll and wallow and try to make God look down and hear her cries.
Sleep must have fallen heavily on her for she saw her own soul, walking in and out among the pines trying to find the way home. It was dark and a high wind from the sea lashed the treetops. Unex called her, but when she turned her head to find him she saw an open grave. Her naked soul stepped down into it. Unex spoke:
"Looka dat white cloth on de ground."
There it was, right at her feet.
"You done give your soul for dat." He began weeping. "You see dem stripes on de cloth, enty, Si May-e?"
There they were, ten stripes red like blood across the width of white cloth.
"Dem scarlet stripes is Jedus' blood. Every sin you had laid a open cut on Jedus' back."
Mary counted them again. Ten scarlet stripes were there.
"You had nine chillen, enty, Si May-e?"
She had.
"All was born in sin, enty?"
She bowed her head low. But she had only nine children. Why were there ten stripes?
"Seraphine had a sin child, Si May-e."
She had.
"Gawd holds you responsible for Seraphine's sin. You set de pattern and Seraphine followed em. You is to blame."
Mary knew that Unex spoke the truth.
"Wha' you gwine to do, Si May-e?"
She lay speechless.
"Prayin is all de hope you got so pray widout ceastin until dem stripes come clean and you soul gets white as snow."
The grave melted, Unex was gone. Mary and the bloody white cloth were left alone.
Voices called to her all through the long night, but she did not answer them. She could not as long as that cloth lay there striped with Jesus' blood.
The voice in her heart no longer prayed quietly, it groaned and screamed and cried, nour after hour, begging Jesus to take away all those stripes. In her misery she rolled over and over on the ground, her fists beat on her head and breast, but the stripes stayed pure scarlet.
She must try some other plan or she would die unforgiven.
Maybe if she took them one sin at a time, that would help. She began with Unex, her first scarlet sin and prayed for it until that stripe slowly faded and was finally gone.
Next, Seraphine's stripe was changed into whiteness.
Keepsie's stripe was the deepest of all. It took long hard pleading to get Jesus to wipe it out. But at last a dazzling streak of whiteness shone in its place.
One by one all the stripes were gone and the cloth became shining and beautiful. It was white as snow. Whiter than snow, and so shining her eyes could not face it.
She rubbed them and tried to wake out of her dream for Andrew's voice was close to her calling her to wake up. At last she roused and opened her eyes. A new day was shining bright and Andrew was kneeling down beside her. His face was haggard and drawn, and his eyes were red and sad.
"Si May-e, what de matter all you? Whe you been all night? Nobody in de street ain' slept for tryin to find you. We thought you was lost. When we couldn' find you, I got f'aid you had jumped in de river an' drowned yousef."
Thank God, although her whole body was shaking like a leaf, and her voice was so hoarse she could hardly talk, she could smile and look him in the eyes and tell him that she had been lost but now she was found. Yes, thank God, she was found. Her sins were gone. She had seen her soul striped with pure scarlet, but God had taken pity on her and made it clean. She saw it with her own eyes. Now her soul was white as snow. Jesus had washed it whiter than snow.
Her head was too dizzy to hold it up and she leaned against Andrew's shoulder. Her heart was throbbing heavily too, but her tears were painless.
"I'm so happy, Cun Andrew, I can' keep from cryin. Unex talked wid me dis mawnin. E talked as plain as you. An', tank Gawd, Jedus washed my soul clean. E's whiter'n snow. Yes, Lawd, whiter'n snow."
Andrew patted her shoulder and lifted her to her feet and made her lean on his arm as he guided her up the slope of the hill toward the Quarters.