The Second Coming

to confront it, the wall of darkness retreated.
    Ewell hawked. “We can have us a party. First I make us some toddies like your daddy used to make, then Norma Jean will cook us a steak, then we’ll show the film and I promise you you’ll have the finest time you ever had. Cheryl is a little armful of heaven, but she is also smart. You and me understand each other, don’t we?”
    He cocked his head, the better to see the looming figure of Ewell McBee, the slightly hollow temple, the snoutish nose. It seemed strange to hear Ewell, who once was a bully and jerk-off artist who wore bib overalls and had thick white country-white skin talking about “films” and “screening” and being “into” this and that.
    But he was only half listening. He tested the strength of his hands, moved his legs. I believe I can walk after Ewell leaves. The rushing darkness had fallen back. Is it a tumor or stroke or what? he wondered. It did not seem to matter. The newfound core of calmness and freedom seemed safe from such things, even from the tide of darkness trembling at the corner of his eye.
    Unhurriedly he began to listen to Ewell, who was talking about his, Will Barrett’s, father.
    â€œHe was the smartest man I ever knew and he would bet on anything. He would bet you five dollars a mockingbird would sit still while he hit a niblick out of the sand.”
    Yeah, that’s real smart.
    â€œHe would always give me ten dollars after a round—that was a lot then. Once I was caddying for him and Judge Pettigrew and Senator Talley and an insurance man and I heard him buy a one-million-dollar life-insurance policy, just like that.”
    That was real smart too. Buy a million-dollar life-insurance policy, then scatter your brain cells over the state of Mississippi.
    â€œI never will forget one thing he told a preacher. One time they had a preacher in the foursome. A big famous preacher from Montreat. I could tell he was getting on your daddy’s nerves. He couldn’t cuss. The preacher kept talking about his church, how much money he took in, and saving souls, ten thousand souls in this one church in Charlotte. Oh the soul this and the soul that, praise the Lord and so forth. Your daddy didn’t say a word. But he was getting hot under the collar. Then he said something to the preacher I will never forget. You know what he said?” Ewell hawked and hiked himself.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe said to him right in the middle of number-six fairway. He said let me tell you something about all those souls you’re bragging about. In the first place, you want to know what a soul is? I’ll tell you. A soul is a man like you and me and Ewell here. You want to know what a man is? I’ll tell you. A man is born between an asshole and a peehole. He eats, sleeps, shits, fucks, works, gets old, and dies. And that’s all he does. That’s what a man is. That’s what he said. I’m telling you, your daddy was a pistol-ball.”
    â€œYes.” That’s what he was, a pistol-ball.
    â€œWell, we going to have our little party?”
    â€œParty?” he said absently.
    â€œIf you don’t, Lawyer Barrett, you’ll be making the mistake of your life. Here is this beautiful talented girl who has the hots for you, and you may not have another chance because I guarantee you she’s on her way up. Just you remember her name, Cheryl Lee. That’s her stage name. Her real name is Sarah Goodman from Wilmington and she’s going to be famous.”
    â€œWill she be famous for Foxy Frolics or for her violin playing?” He pricked up his ears. “Did you say Sarah Goodman?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIs she Jewish?”
    â€œJewish? Why yes.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œSure I’m sure. Her old man is Sol Goodman in dry-goods.”
    â€œDid you say she was from Wilmington?”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œWilmington, North Carolina?”
    â€œWhy yes. Do you know her?”
    â€œAnd you say she’s leaving? She’s going back to Israel, right?”
    â€œIsrael? Why no. If she passes her audition, she’s moving to Asheville. If not, she’ll come back to Highlands and make movies with Norma Jean. I think she ought to do that anyhow. She’s a real fine little actress.”
    â€œI see.” He brightened. “Are you sure she’s Jewish? I mean, after all you can’t go by a