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y the dimmest awareness that God and all His heavenly host were watching us in our Bakelite houses through our ivy…glass windows。
I slept a little as the day began to lighten … two hours； I guess； maybe three； and I slept the way I always sleep these days here in Georgia Pines and hardly ever did then； in thin little licks。 What I went to sleep thinking about was the churches youth。 The names changed； depending on the whims of my mother and her sisters； but they were all really the same； all The First Backwoods Church of Praise Jesus； The Lord Is Mighty。 In the shadow of those blunt； square steeples； the concept of atonement came up as regularly as the toll of the bell which called the faithful to worship。 Only God could forgive sins； could and did； washing them away in the agonal blood of His crucified Son； but that did not change the responsibility of His children to atone for those sins （and even their simple errors of judgement） whenever possible。 Atonement was powerful； it was the lock on the door you closed against the past。
I fell asleep thinking of piney…woods atonement； and Eduard Delacroix on fire as he rode the lightning； and Melinda Moores； and my big boy with the endlessly weeping eyes。 These thoughts twisted their way into a dream。 In it； John Coffey was sitting on a riverbank and bawling his inarticulate mooncalf's grief up at the early…summer sky while on the other bank a freight…train stormed endlessly toward a rusty trestle spanning the Trapingus。 In the crook of each arm the black man held the body of a naked； blonde…haired girlchild。 His fists； huge brown rocks at the ends of those arms' were closed。 All around him crickets chirred and noseeums flocked； the day hummed with heat。 In my dream I went to him； knelt before him； and took his
