Ezekial's Train, Chapter Five

Under the heat of the Reverend's passion it is hard to not agree with him but the power of his arguments is as painful and shocking to Daniel as the pain of his slap must have been to Elijah. “I think maybe the angels would do better enlisting your help rather than mine. It seems you have the faith and determination that I am lacking.”


The Reverend laughs, the dark storm of anger passing from his face in an instant, leaving little trace of the depth beneath those eyes. Daniel wonders how much practice the man has at hiding his true thoughts and for a moment he beings to understand what it must be like to be black in the southern states. For a moment he understands the passion which the reverend has and the dogged, desperate hope he has for Ezekial and for change.


“Now 'Zekial, that ain't the way I see it. If the Lord chose you, he knows why and it ain't for us to question.” The Reverend gives his shoulder a light squeeze before pulling back and smiling infectiously. “'Sides, I'm happy just to be a lil' ol' part 'a all this.”


“That I do believe. I cannot thank you enough for helping me. I know of the Ezekial of the Bible, but I am not so sure I am like him.” Daniel looks into Elijah's eyes, searching for an understanding there. “I do not preach against wickedness, nor do I profess to know what it is. That is not for me to say. My mother saw it in many things, but I have found it a contrived conceit at best. So many of man's conceits as much.”


Rubbing his hands over his eyes and pulling his rumpled hair back Daniel looks up to see the Reverend still smiling, though it does begin to seem forced. “Brother, I don't know what all y'all talkin' about, but you gotta say what they doin' to my people is wrong. Lord knows it is.”


“Yah. That I do not question as wrong, but in Italy I saw many things that were worse. I fear that when people are speaking of a great new world, that world is most often built on the pain of others.” Again searching the Reverend's eyes for understanding, he finds it for a moment, but then it is gone under a cloud of injustice. “Though I do not deny that this world is flawed, and I know that you must be seeing it more than I, it is to think who's backs your new world should be built upon.”


For a moment Daniel fears another tirade of anger and hope from the reverend, but the moment passes and he stands instead, “Well now, that may be, brotha, that may be, but don't y'all think it might be 'bout time fo' the meek to inherit the earth? But come on, we get some food in that belly o' you, and leave all this high talkin' fo' later while you go figure out where y'all oughta be goin' in the ocean.”


“May I lie down for a bit first? That. . . speaking in tongues took my energy from me.”


“Oh yeah, you lay yo' head down and rest for a bit then we take you back and get y'all some food. Phyllis cooks a big 'ol Sunday meal ever week after church.”


Lying back on the cot, his head still aching from the vision before, Daniel closes his eyes and tries to focus on what he must do. What he must do and, more importantly, what he should do.

Break

The train is no longer moving forward but he ccan still feel the rocking back and forth as it settles on its tracks, the his off the engine's brakes still drifting back to the troop car and the acrid smoke of the locomotive still lingering in the air. The other men in the car are starting to shift and stretch but no one stands and hardly any speak.

Daniel's arm is still sore where the bullet grazed him three weeks ago. The bandage there is must smaller now than the one he applied on the field, but the ache is still there, especially when there is nothing to focus on but the pain and the rocking of the train. Even when wrapping the first strip of cloth to his shoulder he had hoped that the wound would be enough for him to be pulled from the front, but the medics decided it was too minor and the offensive too crucial to pull troops for such minor injuries.

Now the scab under the bandage itches and that is even worse than the pain but he resolves himself to let it lie. He is lucky to have lived this long, though he often wonders if it is luck at all or if he would have been better being taken from this hell. The visions, when they come, are almost a reprieve for once, something to look forward too. Especially lately.

Looking out the open window, trying his best to breath in the semi-fresh air from outside and avoid the stench of unwashed soldiers, he watches groups of soldiers pulling crates from a cargo train two tracks over. He can barely make out the polish on the crates as they are loaded onto beat up trucks and horse drawn carts. They say this push is one of the biggest of the war and troops from all the allied armies are here. They say that they will attack Monte Cassino soon. The rumor is that the planes flying over last night bombed the abbey there, crushing the old stones buildings like a child knocking down a stack of blocks.

Watching the men unload the train he sees a large black bear amble from the open cargo door, climbing gently down off the train, a box of ammunition under one huge hairy arm. One of the soldiers sees the bear and moves towards him. For an instant Daniel is afraid for the animal, but he sees the man is laughing as he claps the bear on its shoulder, saying something that Daniel can neither hear nor understand. The Pole hands the bear another crate which he puts under his other arm and ambles away form the train car, lumbering towards the nearest truck.

“Holy shit man, you see that?” The hard Brooklyn accent of one of the other passengers grates on Daniel's nerves as the man calls out to the others on the train and soon every set of eyes is glued to that side of the train car, everyone jostling to see out of the windows and catch a glimpse of the bear.

Everyone is speaking and the closest man crowding Daniel's seat says, “Hot damn, I done heard a' that bear. They say they found it and made it the compny' mascot but then the damn thing started helpin' 'em out!”

“Yeah, I hear they named him a private and everything. Only damn enlisted bear in all the allied armies, I bet.”

Everyone is still pointing as the train begins to rumble under them again and the wheels start to slowly grind against the tracks. The man with the Brooklyn accent calls out to the soldiers across the way as the train begins to move. “That's how we know the damn Krauts ain't got a chance! We got goddamn bears on our side!”

Break

Opening his eyes on the bunk, Daniel looks up to see Elijah standing over him, the black man's face pensive as he stares down at him. Daniel realizes he's breathing more evenly than he has in quite a while and reaches out to the Reverend's hand as he helps him to stand. “Yah, I am ready now. Thank you.”

* * *