 On The Line -- Issue 629 -- April 6, 2007  Online News and Views of Life in San Benito County with Herman Wrede Published by HollisterOnline.com -- Copyright 1995-2008 HollisterOnline.com
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On The Line -- Issue 629 -- April 6, 2007 Online News and Views of Life in San Benito County with Herman Wrede Published by HollisterOnline.com -- Copyright 1995-2008 HollisterOnline.com
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This is the story the old man told his grandchildren on an evening in early spring as the hills cast velvet shadows across the orchards and meadows:
I awoke that morning so many years ago with a sense of urgency; then it struck me with so much force that I drew in my breath. It was my fifth birthday! I ran to the window and looked out and the sun was already well up into the sky. After dressing hurriedly. I ran into the kitchen where Mother was preparing breakfast. She smiled in that tender way of hers and kissed me. "Well, well, Matthew; you're a big boy now. Happy birthday, dear." Father came in from feeding the stock then and smiled at us. I was named for him. He was "Big Matthew" and I was "Little Matthew" but Mother had said several times at the way I was growing I wouldn't be "Little" Matthew much longer. Father knelt and touched my face. He put on a solemn look and said, "Remember, you promised you would go into town with me today. I hope you keep your word even if it is your birthday." I laughed because I knew he was joking and because I had looked forward to the trip since he had told me a week before. Breakfast seemed to take forever but I didn't complain. Mother and Father shot each under secret looks several times and both smiled at me. When we finished the meal, Father scratched his head and said, "What we were going to do today? I've forgotten." I laughed. "We're going to town." Father said, "Oh, yes. Well, we'd better start off then." We both kissed Mother at the doorway and she wiped her eyes. "My two men," she said and my heart felt as though it would burst from my chest. It was a beautiful day with only one or two clouds grazing in the sky like fat sheep. I ran ahead of Father in my desire to get to town but returned each time as he kept his measured pace. I took his hand and we walked along, happy in each other's company. When people who lived along the way nodded to us, Father let my hand go as we approached them. He seemed to know how I felt suddenly being a big boy. When we resumed our way, he took my hand again. I kept asking Father what we were going to do in town, and he replied with, "I'm sure we'll find something", or "It's hard to tell until we're doing it", then he would wink and smile at me again. It was hard telling which was the best- bring five years old and a big boy, going into town or just spending the day alone with Father. But whichever it was, I was completely happy. Then we crested a small hill a small hill, and town was just a few hundred yards off. I felt like running ahead but remembered I was a big boy now and kept pace beside Father. But I could tell that he was enjoying our trip together. We had walked about ten yards into town when Father stopped. Something seemed funny but I couldn't tell what it was. Then Father frowned and said, "Where are all the people?" That was it. Whenever we went to town before there were always a lot of people around. Some were walking in the streets or standing in their doorways or just doing whatever people do in a town. But no one was to be seen. I pit my hand into Father's and we walked slowly along, both of us looking back and forth but there was no one. "This isn't right," Father said to himself as much as to me. I noticed that the houses all were shuttered and he windows closed. We walked along about three or four blocks when Father stopped and looked down at me. He smiled and said, "There has to be an explanation for this. A whole townful of people just doesn't disappear." Right then an old man crossed the street and we hurried ver t him. Father asked where the people were and the old man said, "Haven't you heard?" Then he glanced at me and lowered his voice when he spoke to Father. The old man was pretty animated when speaking. Occasionally Father said something, too but I couldn't hear the words. Suddenly a large roar caused all of us to look down the street. As if that was the signal, the roar sounded again and kept up. I started toward it and heard father yell. "Matthew!" but I pretended I didn't hear him and ran to the end of the block. I looked to my left then and saw many people -- men, women and children -- crowding both sides of the street at the next block. I ran toward it and heard Father's cry again but I didn't stop. It looked to be a parade of some sort, and I felt my heart beating rapidly. As the people shouted again I tried desperately to find a place to watch it. They were packed too close together for me to get in. Someone shouted, "Here he comes!" and I tried to find a way past the legs to see what was happening, but it was no use. Try as I may I couldn't see what was happening just a few feet away. Then a man looked down at me and said, "You want to see? All right, then," and the next thing I know he was lifting me up past his face and a sour reek of wine and holding me far above the crowd. Just then I heard Father call my name. Seconds later he was bearing me away with my face buried in his chest and crying my heart out. "They don't know what they're doing, son; they don't know what they're doing," he repeated over and over. I have thought of his explanation many times over the years and I believe it is the only answer to good people doing cruel and heartless acts. I know it is the answer I saw in the eyes of the Nazarene in those few terrible seconds he looked up at me as I hung high and helpless above a howling mob. |
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