Red Prophet Page 0,32

they think that makes them dangerous."

"This one seems not to have that problem."

"I know. I tried to find out who gave him his whisky, and he won't tell me."

Reverend Thrower addressed Lolla-Wossiky. "Don't you know that whisky is the devil's tool and the downfall of the Red man?"

"I don't think he talks English enough to know what you're talking about, Reverend."

"Likker very bad for Red man," said Lolla-Wossiky.

"Well, maybe he does understand," said Armor-of-God, chuckling. "Lolla-Wossiky, if you know how bad likker is, how come you stink of cheap whisky like an Irish barroom?"

"Likker very bad for Red man," said Lolla-Wossiky, "but Red man thirsty all the time."

"There's a simple scientific explanation for that," said Reverend Thrower. "Europeans have had alcoholic beverages for so long that they've built up a tolerance. Europeans who desperately hunger for alcohol tend to die younger, have fewer children, provide less wen for those children they do have. The result is that most Europeans have a resistance to alcohol built into them. But you Reds have never built up that tolerance."

"Very damn right," said Lolla-Wossiky. "True-talking White man, how come White Murderer Harrison not kill you yet?"

"Well, now, will you listen to that," said Armor-of-God. "That's the second time he called Harrison a murderer."

"He also swore, which I do not appreciate."

"If he's from Carthage, he learned to talk English from a class of White man that thinks words like 'damn' are punctuation, if you catch my drift, Reverend. But listen, Lolla-Wossiky. This man here, he's Reverend Philadelphia Thrower, and he's a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ, so mind you don't use no bad language around him."

Lolla-Wossiky hadn't the faintest idea what a minister was - there was no such thing in Carthage City. The best he could think of was that a minister was like a governor, only nicer.

"Will you live in this very big house?"

"Live here?" asked Thrower. "Oh, no. This is the Lord's house.

"Who?"

"The Lord Jesus Christ."

Lona-Wossiky had heard of Jesus Christ. White man called out that name all the time, mostly when they were angry or lying. "Very angry man," said Lofla-Wossiky. "He live here?"

"Jesus Christ is a loving and forgiving Lord," said Reverend Thrower. "He won't live here the way a White man lives in a house. But when good Christians want to worship - to sing hymns and pray and hear the word of the Lord - we'll come together in this place. It's a church, or it will be."

"Jesus Christ talks here?" Lolla-Wossiky thought it might be interesting to meet this very important White man face to face.

"Oh, no, not in person. I speak for him."

From below the hill came a woman's voice. "Armor! Armor Weaver!"

Armor-of-God came alert. "Supper's ready, and there she is calling out, she hates when she has to do that. Come on, Lolla-Wossiky. Drunk or not, if you want supper you can come, and get it."

"I hope you will," said Reverend Thrower. "And when supper is done, I hope to be able to teach you the words of the Lord Jesus."

"Very most first thing," said Lolla-Wossiky. "You promise not to lock me up. I don't want lock-up, I got to find dream beast."

"We won't lock you up. You can walk out of my house any time." Armor-of-God turned to Reverend Thrower. "You can see what these Reds learn about White men from William Henry Harrison. Likker and lock-ups."

"I am more moved by his pagan beliefs. A dream beast! Is this their idea of gods?"

"The dream beast isn't God, it's an animal they dream about that teaches them things," explained Armor. "They always take a long journey till they have the dream and come home. That explains what he's doing two hundred miles from the main Shaw-Nee settlements on the lower My-Ammy."

"Dream beast real," said Lolla-Wossiky.

"Right," said Armor-of-God. Lolla-Wossiky knew he was saying that only to avoid offending him.

"This poor creature is obviously in dire need of the gospel of Jesus," said Thrower.

"Looks to me like he's in more need of supper at the moment. Gospel is learned best on a full belly, wouldn't you say?"

Thrower chuckled. "I don't think it says that anywhere in the Bible, Armor-of-God, but I dare say you're correct."

Armor-of-God put his hands on his hips and asked Lolla-Wossiky again. "You coming or not?"

"Reckon so," said Lolla-Wossiky.
* * *

Lolla-Wossiky's belly was full, but it was White man's food, soft and smoooth and overcooked, and it grumbled inside him. Thrower went on and on with very strange words. The