Many of the men were afraid of getting some more wood. They be missing the final act as though it might be holding an everlasting secret. Danny's clothes had been burnt off. He hung nude as a newborn as the rosy fingers of dawn had come to take him Home. Most of his flesh had been burnt off up to his thighs. The white folk roasted him like a chicken. Maybe I could try and stop it. But that wouldn't do no good.
The white folk had their blood up. The crowd jeered him. They made terrible shouts like those savage tribes down yonder, and yelped as they were dancin' and singin'. A few men rushed and got more wood as Danny still had his eyes open to the fury of hell.
They knowed what they was doing.
Fiddling with Black Magic.
They was fixin' to have Satan himself swallow this tiny earthy morsel whole.
The fires began leaping 'gain. Savaging poor Danny worse than any foul mouthed slave owner could've done. I saw those white folks doing a ragtime dance. The old Mr. Andrews with his jowls shaking like a pig's and shuffling his feet in his muddy pen. Ms. Louise Anne Jenson was shaking her bony backside tryingto get the men to notice her. She had less meat on her than a starved chicken. Annabelle Jackson began shouting like she was in church or somethin': "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" Then they began all chiming in 'n rollin' in the aisles like the Holy Spirit got hold of 'em. But when I squinted my eyes, I sees that they were all red-faced and wily demons and this place was Hell and Satan had his pitchfork. They was standin' there. They was fixin' to do this to all of us. I could go climb like Moses to Mt. Sinai hisself.
But I knowed that wouldn't do no good. I couldn't take it no more. So I ran into the fields. Got on my knees and I began prayin'. Like I never had before in my life. It was at a fever pitch. I lost myself. Regained it. Felt a surge of energy -and then I saw the stars and a myriad number of galaxies - and then I saws his face - the face of God, black as darkness can git and with the bright stars for his eyes.
He smiled at me. I knowed it was Him. It couldn't be no other. Then he said to me like the wind whisperin' through the sycamore trees that he would send his only begotten son.
A black boy came forth.
"I needs you to go to Cairo."
"Egypt?"
"No, Georgia."
"And den what?"
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