April Morning by Howard Fast Read Free Book Online Page B

but ten words after he began, his face flushed, his neck thickened, and he became near apoplectic. His mind ceased to function, and, as Granny put it, the worst elements of his father and grandfather emerged in him. There was a time when he could hardly get started on any subject without dragging in the Church of England, but since Mother had some High Church relatives on her father’s side, he broke himself of that habit.
    Granny said that to call himself Judaic when he had never actually met a Jew was impertinence, so when some family business took him to Rhode Island, he went out of his way to attend services at a synagogue. Father said that apart from the fact that they kept their hats on in church and read from the Bible in Hebrew—something he had always aspired to—they didn’t seem any different from Presbyterians. While there, he couldn’t resist getting their views on certain moot points of theology, such as the relationship of the Trinity to monotheism, and the balance of the first five books of the Bible against what follows. Not only did he emerge with a healthy respect for their powers of disputation, but he boasted of their admiration for his own powers of argumentation.
    As for the materialism, Father held it was the only way to counter superstition properly, and high among the various superstitions that were an anathema to Father was the so-called interpretation of dreams. I remember an argument he had with Jonas Parker. Ever since Jonas Parker had been elected Captain of Militia for the township, things went less than smoothly between himself and my father—Father taking the point of view that the chairmanship of the Committee had precedence over all other titles of authority. Jonas Parker, with some justice on his side, said that a military situation demanded that the command of the militia be the supreme command at the moment of military crisis. You can imagine how my father rose to this; he hated all things military, and immediately accused Parker of desiring the prime goal of the enemy, to turn us into a garrison state. The argument was hot and heavy, with no clear-cut decision. Father awaited his moment. A day came when Parker announced militia drill for the following evening. My father reminded him that a strong, wet wind was blowing from the east, and that even in New England, where the weather was erratic enough to drive a prudent man mad, a steady, wet east wind meant rain. Well, up comes Parker with a particularly strong dream about the next day’s weather being as fair as feathers, with a blue sky everywhere you looked.
    â€œNow if that doesn’t signify good weather, what does?” he demanded of Father.
    â€œA dry west wind,” Father replied. It rained that night and for the two following days, and Father had a time rending every theory of dreams into shreds. I agreed with him about dreams, so when my brother Levi ran into my room and dived into bed with me, trembling with fear over a nightmare, I was not disturbed, except that I resented being awakened in the middle of the night.
    â€œCalm down,” I said to him.
    â€œThe whole sky is red.”
    â€œIt isn’t.” I pointed to the window. “If it was red, we’d see it from here, wouldn’t we? Anyway, people aren’t supposed to dream in colors. They say you dream in blacks and grays.”
    â€œI had a dream, Adam, that the whole sky was a terrible red, and I died.”
    â€œYou can’t dream you died. You’d never wake up if you did.”
    â€œThen I almost died. Are you mad at me?”
    â€œNot any more. Go to bed.”
    â€œWhy ain’t you mad at me?”
    â€œLook, Levi,” I said. “I’m tired and sleepy. So why don’t you go back to bed.”
    â€œBecause I’m afraid.”
    â€œI’ll tell you why you’re afraid. I’ll tell you why you dreamed that the sky was red. It’s because you and all those other