Like a blessing it seemed, Dad gripping my hand tight.
It is distressing to me, there is not so much roofing and carpentry work now available to a boy so young. It is not likely that I can bring Luke to a work-site with me and expect Fischer Construction to take him on.
Nor is it clear that Luke wants to work as I do. Or that he would be so capable with his hands as I was at that age.
When you climb onto the roof of any building, you are elevated above your natural state. There are thoughts that come to you only on the roofs of such buildings because the first fact is, when you straighten your back, and lift your eyes, the sky will open above you in a way that is different from when you are on the ground. Trees are not above you, some trees are beneath you or you are on a level with them. At fourteen such climbs onto the roofs of houses were exciting to me, it was thrilling to take up a hammer and to work beside my father and to know that my father was damn proud of me as he would say (if not to me, to others), and to see the envy in the eyes of the other men, that my father had such a son as Luther, and such a good worker, and never complaining or bored like other boys. I was not yet prepared for the wisdom of the Lord (for there was coarseness in my soul at that age) yet from the start the “opening” of the sky made a strong impression on me. It is hard to explain what this was except I knew myself filled with the unease of knowing that no act of mine would be unobserved and unjudged.
This is the first fact, the “openness” of the sky, and the second is, the (usual) roof will be at a slant beneath your feet and so this is different from your standing on the ground flat-footed. You do not take any roof for granted, for it is likely to be at a slant and you must be alert at all times. This is not true for standing on the ground. Even a drunken man will take for granted, the evenness of the ground. For the roof, you require work-boots with grip-soles. You require a cap to shade your eyes from the sun. You require gloves. In a bad dream you are on a (steep-slanted) roof exposed, and you do not have a hat or gloves or sturdy work-boots and when you search for the ladder you see that the ladder has been removed and there is no way down.
Sweat breaks out everywhere on your body, when you see that the ladder has been removed.
If you jump from the roof you may break both legs. You may break your back, your neck. You make your way around the roof, weak-kneed, squatting on your heels, searching for the ladder that is not there; and it is strange, no one is around. Never in actual life are you alone on a roof with a hammer in your hand, not once in memory since the age of fourteen, yet in the dream, the ladder has been taken away, and the other men are gone including the foreman, and the sky overhead is—“open.”
In the early years the excitement was, each morning, what new thoughts would come to me that day!—for always there are new thoughts, that press from the sky.
It was then, the Lord often spoke to me. Jesus spoke to me, to console me in a time of trouble but also, to rejoice with me in a time of happiness.
For you do not always know that you are happy, unless it is revealed to you.
That you are blessed, as with children and a loving and devoted Christian wife, and a (mostly) steady job even in times of “recession”—this, you may need to be informed by one whose knowledge is greater than your own.
Except since Daphne, the thoughts are not new. Like flypaper, where the flies are caught and buzzing. And no fly that is caught on the sticky paper will ever be free of it though more flies will appear, trapped and buzzing.
These are buzzing thoughts.
In the hot months especially this was so. The stink of tar paper softening in the sun, that is a smell like mice, mice-carcasses, in a cellar. From a distance I could hear the others talking together. And there was the noise of hammering. But the buzzing thoughts intervened.
My heels dug into the (slanted) planks, and my breath came thick and with effort. Sweat trickling down my sides. The stink of my body oozing sweat like tears.
But since Stockard had spoken to me, and an understanding had passed between us, it was a new time. The sky was pearl-colored, and bright. You could not see the sun but still, the air was bright. There were clouds of such astonishing forms, it was a temptation to stare at them for long minutes. It was a temptation to observe the clouds passing. And now the summer was gone, it had come to be late October and a white light seemed to reflect upward from the tar paper.
The light of Heaven. Your eyes are open now.
My hammer-blows were forceful, precise. Driving three-inch nails into the shingles, securing them in descending rows. With each blow of my hammer came the questions—who would be next? Who would be the next to step forward? To strike against the enemy? As my comrades have bravely stepped forward in Florida, in Kentucky, in Michigan, in New York, and in Ohio.