Read Online The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson Mccullers - Free Book Online

fit. He could get madder than any man I ever seen. Everbody who know my Father say that he was a sure enough crazy man. He done wild, crazy things and our Mama quit him. I were ten years old at the time. Our Mama taken us children with her to Grandpapa’s farm and us were raised out there. Our Father all the time wanted us to come back. But even when our Mama died us children never did go home to live. And now my Father stay all by hisself.’
    Mick went to the stove and filled her plate a second time.
    Portia’s voice was going up and down like a song, and nothing could stop her now.
    ‘I doesn’t see my Father much--maybe once a week--but I done a lot of thinking about him. I feels sorrier for him than anybody I knows. I expect he done read more books than any white man in this town. He done read more books and he done worried about more things. He full of books and worrying. He done lost God and turned his back to religion. All his troubles come down just to that.’
    Portia was excited. Whenever she got to talking about God--or Willie, her brother, or Highboy, her husband--she got excited.
    ‘Now, I not a big shouter. I belongs to the Presbyterian Church and us don’t hold with all this rolling on the floor and talking in tongues. Us don’t get sanctified ever week and wallow around together. In our church we sings and lets the preacher do the preaching. And tell you the truth I don’t think a little singing and a little preaching would hurt you, Mick. You ought to take your little brother to the Sunday School and also you plenty big enough to sit in church. From the biggity way you been acting lately it seem to me like you already got one toe in the pit.’
    ‘Nuts,’ Mick said.
    ‘Now Highboy he were Holiness boy before us were married.
    He loved to get the spirit ever Sunday and shout and sanctify hisself. But after us were married I got him to join with me, and although it kind of hard to keep him quiet sometime I think he doing right well.’
    ‘I don’t believe in God any more than I do Santa Oaus,’ Mick said.
    ‘You wait a minute! That’s why it sometime seem to me you favor my Father more than any person I ever knowed.’
    ‘Me? You say I favor him?’
    ‘I don’t mean in the face or in any kind of looks. I was speaking about the shape and color of your souls.’
    Bubber sat looking from one to the other. His napkin was tied around his neck and in his hand he still held his empty spoon.
    ‘What all does God eat?’ he asked.
    Mick got up from the table and stood in the doorway, ready to leave. Sometimes it was fun to devil Portia. She started on the same tune and said the same thing over and over--like that was all she knew.
    ‘Folks like you and my Father who don’t attend the church can’t never have nair peace at all. Now take me here--I believe and I haves peace. And Bubber, he haves his peace too. And my Highboy and my Willie likewise. And it seem to me just from looking at him this here Mr. Singer haves peace too. I done felt that the first time I seen him.’
    ‘Have it your own way,’ Mick said. ‘You’re crazier than any father of yours could ever be.’
    ‘But you haven’t never loved God nor even nair person. You hard and tough as cowhide. But just the same I knows you.
    This afternoon you going to roam all over the place without never being satisfied. You going to traipse all around like you haves to find something lost. You going to work yourself up with excitement Your heart going to beat hard enough to kill you because you don’t love and don’t have peace. And then some day you going to bust loose and be ruined. Won’t nothing help you then.’
    ‘What, Portia?’ Bubber asked. ‘What kind of things does He eat?’
    Mick laughed and stamped out of the room.
    She did roam around the house during the afternoon because she could not get settled. Some days were just like that. For one thing the thought of the violin kept worrying her. She could never have made it like