Until he was shot, Ted Lavender carried 6 or 7 ounces of premium dope, which for him was a necessity. Mitchell Sanders, the RTO, carried condoms. Norman Bowker carried a diary. Rat Kiley carried comic books. Kiowa, a devout Baptist, carried an illustrated New Testament that had been presented to him by his father, who taught Sunday school in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.

hey were signed Love, Martha, but Lieutenant Cross understood that Love was only a way of signing and did not mean what he sometimes pretended it meant. A

he was a virgin, he was almost sure. She was an English major at Mount Sebastian, and she wrote beautifully about her professors and roommates and midterm exams, about her respect for Chaucer and her great affection for Virginia Woolf. She often quoted lines of poetry; she never mentioned the war, except to say, Jimmy, take care of yourself.

First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rucksack. In the late afternoon, after a day’s march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of light pretending. He would imagine romantic camping trips into the White Mountains in New Hampshire. He would sometimes taste the envelope flaps, knowing her tongue had been there. More than anything, he wanted Martha to love him as he loved her, but the letters were mostly chatty, elusive on the matter of love. S

.1 all I wanted was to live the life I was borr-r ro - a main-stream lfe- I loved baseball and harnburgcrs and cherry Cokes - andnow I was offon the margins of exile,leaving my counrry forever,and itseemed so impossible and terrible and sad.

After supper one evening I vomited and went back to mycabin and lay down for a few moments and then vomited again; anothertime, in the middle of the afternoon,I began sweating and couldn'r shutit ofl. I went through whole days feeling dizzy with sorrow. I couldn'tsleep; I couldn'r lie srill. At night I d ross around in bed, half awake,half dreaming, imagining how Id sneak down ro the beach and quietlypush one of the old man's boats our into the river and starr paddling myway toward Canada. There were times when I thoughr Id gone offthepsychic edge. I

The man was sharp - he didn't miss much. Those razor eyes. Nowand then hecl catch me staring out at the river, at the far shore, and Icould almosr hear rhe tumblers clicking in his head. Maybe I'm wrong,but I doubt it

His bedroom, I remember,was cluttered with books and newspapers. He killed me at the Scrabbleboard, barely concentrating, and on those occasions when speech wasnecessary he had a way of compressing Iarge thoughts into small , cryp-tic packets of langua

exhausted, and scared sick, and around noon I pulled inro an old fish-ing resort called the Tip Top Lodge. Actually it was nor a lodge ar all,just eight or nine tir-ry yellow cabins ch-rsrered on a peninsula thar-juttednorthward into the Rainy River. The place was in sorry shape. Therewas a dangerous wooden dock, an old minnow rank, a flimsy tar paperboarhouse along the shore. The main building, wl-rich srood in a clus-ter of pir-res on high ground, seemed ro lean l'teavily ro one side, like acripple, rhe roof sagging roward Canada. Briefly, I rhoughr abour rurn-ing around, jusr giving up, buc rhen I gor our oi rhe car and walked upto the fronr porch.The man who opened the door rhar day is che hero of my life. Howdo I say rhis withour sounding sappyi Blurr ir our - rhe man saved,me. He ollered exactly what I needed, wirhour questions, withour anywords at all. He took me in. He was there ar rhe crirical cime - a silent,watchful Presence. Six days larer, when ir ended, I was r-rnable ro find aproper way ro rhank hirn, and I never have, and so, if norhing else, tfiisstory represents a small gesrure of gracicude twenty years overdue

hough ir -a.,still August, the air already had the smell of Ocrober, foorb"il season,piles of yellow-red leaves, everyrhing crisp and clean. I rernernber a hugeblue sky. off ro rny righr was the Rainy River, wide as a lake in places,and beyond rhe Rainy fuver was Canada.For a while I just drove, noc airning ar anything, rhen in rhe laremorning I begar-r looking for a place to lie low for a day or rwo.

Down in my chestthere was srill rhat leaking sensarion, somerh ingvery warln and preciousspilling out, and I was .ou.r"d wirh blood ;rnd hog-stink, ",ld for along while I just concentrated on holding myself rogetl-rer. I rernernbertaking a hor shower. I remernber packing a suitcase and carrying ir ourto the kitchen, standing very srill for a few rninures, looking carefullyat the familiar objects all around rne. The old chrome roasrer, rhe tele-phone, the pink and whire Forrnica on rhe kitchen counrers. The roomwas full of brighr sunshine. Everything sparkled. My hor_rse, I thoughr.My life. I'm nor sure how long I srood rhere, bur later I scribbled our ashort note to my parenrs.whar ir said, exactIy,I don'r recall now. Somerhing vaglre. Taking ollwill call, love Tirn

t was a kind of schizophrenia. A moral split. I couldn't make upmy mind. Ifeared the war, yes, but I also feared exile. I was afraid ofwalking away from my own Iife, my friends and my family, my wholehistory, everything chat matcered to me. I feared losing the respecr ofmy parents. I feared the law. I feared ridicule and censure. My home-town was a conservative little spot on the prairie , aplace w

s. I remember a sound in my head. Itwasnt rhinking, jusr a silenr horvl. A million rhings all ar once - I wasrco good for rl-ris war. Too sffrarc, too compassionate, too everything.It couldn't happen. I was above it. I had the world dicked

The very facts were shrouded in uncerrainty: Was ir a civil war?A war of national liberarior-r or simple aggressioni Who started it, andwhen, and whyi What realLy happened ro rhe llSS Maddox onthat darknight in the Gulf of Tonkini Was Ho Chi Minh a Communisr stooge,or a nationalist savior, or both, or neitheri What abour the GenevaAccordsi What about SEATO and rhe Cold War

s. Courage, I seemed to think, comes to us in6nite quantities, like an inheritance, and by being frugal and stashing itaway and letting it earn interest, we steadily increase our moral capitalin p''rsp2l"xtion for that day when the account must be drawn down

Even now I'll adrnit, the story makes me squirm, For morethan twenty years I've had to live wirh ir, feeling rhe shame, rrying ropuslr ft away, and so by this act of remembrance, by putting the factsdown on paper, I'm hoping to relieve at least some of the pressure on mydreams. Sdll, it's :r hard story to tell

his is one story I've never rold before. Not to anyone. Not to myI parents, not to my brother or sister, not even to my wife,

Delia pushed back her plate and got up from the table. "Ah hates you, Sykes," she said calmly. "Ah hates you tuh de same degree dat Ah useter love yuh. Ah done took an' took till mah belly is full up tuh mah neck. Dat's de reason Ah got mah letter fum de church an' moved mah membership tuh Woodbridge--so Ah don't haf tuh take no sacrament wid yuh. Ah don't wantuh see yuh 'roun' me atall. Lay 'roun' wid dat 'oman all yuh wants tuh, but gwan 'way fum me an' mah house. Ah hates yuh lak uh suck-egg dog." Sykes almost let the huge wad of corn bread and collard greens he was chewing fall out of his mouth in amazement. He had a hard time whipping himself up to the proper fury to try to answer Delia. "Well, Ah'm glad you does hate me. Ah'm sho' tiahed uh you hangin' ontuh me. Ah don't want yuh. Look at yuh stringey ole neck! Yo' rawbony laigs an' arms is enough tuh cut uh man tuh death. You looks jes' lak de devvul's doll-baby tuh me. You cain't hate me no worse dan Ah hates you. Ah been hatin' you fuh years."

She stood for a long time in the doorway in a red fury that grew bloodier for every second that she regarded the creature that was her torment.

"Ah aint gut tuh do nuthin' uh de kin'--fact is Ah aint got tuh do nothin' but die. Taint no use uh you puttin' on airs makin' out lak you skeered uh dat snake--he's gointer stay right heah tell he die. He wouldn't bite me cause Ah knows how tuh handle 'im. Nohow he wouldn't risk breakin' out his fangs 'gin yo' skinny laigs."

She wondered, but started to go on into the house without speaking, even though he was standing in the kitchen door and she must either stoop under his arm or ask him to move. He made no room for her. She noticed a soap boxbeside the steps, but paid no particular attention to it, knowing that he must have brought it there. As she was stooping to pass under his outstretched arm, he suddenly pushed her backward, laughingly.

Delia and Sykes fought all the time now with no peaceful interludes. They slept and ate in silence. Two or three times Delia had attempted a timid friendliness, but she was repulsed each time. It was plain that the breaches must remain agape.

Delia drove past on her way home, as Sykes was ordering magnificently for Bertha. It pleased him for Delia to see.

Aw, she's fat, thass how come. He's allus been crazy 'bout fat women," put in Merchant. "He'd a' been tied up wid one long time ago if he could a' found one tuh have him. Did Ah tell yuh'bout him come sidlin' roun' mah wife--bringin' her a basket uh pecans outa his yard fuh a present? Yessir, mah wife! She tol' him tuh take 'em right straight back home, cause Delia works so hard ovah dat washtub she reckon everything on de place taste lak sweat an' soapsuds. Ah jus' wisht Ah'd a' caught 'im 'dere! Ah'd a' made his hips ketch on fiah down dat shell road."

week was as full of work for Delia as all other weeks, and Saturday found her behind her little pony, collecting and delivering clothes

Sometime or ruther, Sykes, like everybody else, is gointer reap his sowing." After that she was able to build a spiritual earthworks against her husband. His shells could no longer reach her. Amen. She went to sleep and slept until he announced his presence in bed by kicking her feet and rudely snatching the covers away.

She seized the iron skillet from the stove and struck a defensive pose, which act surprised him greatly, coming from her. It cowed him and he did not strike her as he usually did.

Don't gimme no lip neither, else Ah'll throw 'em outand put mah fist up side yo' head to boot."

Delia's habitual meekness seemed to slip from her shoulders like a blown scarf. She was on her feet; her poor little body, her bare knuckly hands bravely defying the strapping hulk before her.

snorted scornfully. "Yeah, you just come from de church house on a Sunday night, but heah you is gone to work on them clothes. You ain't nothing but a hypocrite. One of them amen-corner Christians--sing, whoop, and shout, then come home and wash white folks clothes on the Sabbath.

honest with you, Sam, I had no hopes for it. If you think I was excited and happy you got another guess coming. In fact, I was [

particularly interesting, but when I asked you what you were doing, you just said, "Wait and see, Hally. Wait . . . and see" . . . in that secret sort of way of yours. So I knew there was a surprise coming. You teased me, you bugger, by being deliberately slow and not answering my questions. [Sam laughs.] And whistling while you worked away! [Gosh], it was infuriating! I could have brained you! It was onlywhen you tied them together in a cross and put that down on the brown paper that I realized what you were doing. "Sam is making a kite?" And when I asked you and you said "Yes" . . . ! [Shaking his head with disbelief.] The sheer audacity of it took my breath away. I mean, seriously, what the hell does a black man know about flying a kite? I'll be honest with you, Sam, I had no hopes for it. If you think I was excited and happy you got another guess coming. In fact, I was [ . . . ]-scared that we were going to make fools of ourselves. When we left the boarding house to go up onto the hill, I was praying quietly that there wouldn't be any other kids around to laugh at us

didn't say it was easy. I said it was simple - like in simple-minded, meaning mentally retarded. You can't exactly say it challenges the intellect.

No, it isn't your imagination hasn't helped you at all. There's a lot more to it than that. We're getting ready for the championships, Hally, not just another dance. There's going to be a lot of people, all right, and they're going to have a good time, but they'll only be spectators, sitting around and watching. It's just the competitors our there on the dance floor. Party decorations and fancy lights all around the hall! The ladies in beautiful evening dresses

Yes, gentlemen, that is precisely what I am considering doing. Old Doc Bromely - he's my English teacher - is going to argue with me, of course. He doesn't like natives. But I'll point out to him that in strict anthropological terms the culture of a primitive black society includes its dancing and singing. To put my thesis in a nutshell: The war-dance has been replaced by the waltz. But it still amounts to the same thing: the releases of primitive emotions through movement. Shall we give it a go?

I've got my reasons.

old Jubilee Boarding House. Sixteen rooms with board and lodging, rent in advance and one week's notice. I haven't thought about it for donkey's years . . . and I don't think that's an accident. [Boy], was I glad when we sold it and moved out. Those years are not remembered as the happiest ones of an unhappy childhood.

The old Jubilee Boarding House. Sixteen rooms with board and lodging, rent in advance and one week's notice. I haven't thought about it for donkey's years . . . and I don't think that's an accident. [Boy], was I glad when we sold it and moved out. Those years are not remembered as the happiest ones of an unhappy childhood.

Gosh], you're impossible. I showed it to you in black and white.

tried. I looked at the chapters in the beginning and I saw one called "The Struggle for an Existence." Ah ha, I thought. At last! But what did I get? Something called the mistletoe which needs the apple tree and there's too many seeds and all are going to die except one . . . ! No, Hally.

many reforms. Napoleon regarded all people as equal before the law and wanted them to have equal opportunities for advancement. All ves - ti - ges of the feu - dal system with its oppression of the poor were abolished." Vestiges, feudal system and abolished. I'm all right on oppression.

they make you lie down on a bench. One policeman pulls down your trousers and holds your ankles, another one pulls your shirt over your head and holds your arms . . .

barbaric. SAM: That's the way they do it in jail.

SAM: Well, I'll put my money on you in the English exam. HALLY: Piece of cake. Eighty percent without even trying. SAM: [Another textbook from Hally's case.] And history? HALLY: So-so. I'll scrape through. In the fifties if I'm lucky.

HALLY: Good question. And I hate to say it, but the answer is: I don't know. Maybe he hasn't even beenborn yet. Or is still only a babe in arms at his mother's breast. [Gosh], what a thought.

ALLY: [A world-weary sigh.] I know, I know! I oscillate between hope and despair for this world as well, Sam. But things will change, you wait and see. One day somebody is going to get up and give history a kick up the backside and get it going again.

Before this winter, if you had said Confederate flag,