Chapter Forty-Seven

The carpenter entered diffidently, awkwardly doffed his old-fashioned, wide-brimmed felt hat, and in response to the rabbi’s invitation, sat down on the edge of the chair. “My wife thought I ought to change,” he said in explanation of the black suit he was wearing, the highly polished black shoes, the white shirt, its collar uncomfortably tight, the wide florid necktie. “Out of respect, you know.”

The rabbi nodded, not because he understood, but as a sign for him to go on.

“Lanigan called me this morning to tell me to come down to make arrangements for the burial. He said they had decided that they didn’t need an autopsy.”

“I see.”

“So after I made the arrangements, I thought I’d stop off and thank you.”

“I did nothing, Mr. Carter. Nothing.”

“Well. I figure if you hadn’t gone down Monday night—”

“No. Mr. Carter.” said the rabbi firmly, “that really had nothing to do with it. Chief Lanigan quite properly refused to release the body then because he had doubts about the cause of death. Quite rightly, as it turned out. When he discovered that the death was by asphyxiation, he consulted with the Medical Examiner, who told him that an autopsy was unnecessary and that they would learn nothing by it. As I understand it, acute alcohol poisoning results in a paralysis of the nerve that controls breathing, so that the effect on the organs is the same as asphyxiation.”

“I still think that if you hadn’t gone down there they might have gone through with it anyway. Doctors have been known to do it, you know, just for practice,” he added darkly.

“You’ve made plans for the funeral?” asked the rabbi to get him off the subject.

Carter nodded. “We’re having a private affair—just the family. We didn’t want a crowd, so it’s just the family and a preacher friend of mine that I worked with on the fluoridation campaign. He’ll say a few words.”

“I think that’s best.”

“You know, Rabbi, I might have saved that boy.” Carter clenched his fists. “I wouldn’t say it to my wife, but I’m telling you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I didn’t listen. Rabbi. The Lord spoke to me, and I didn’t listen.”

The rabbi looked up with interest. “Oh?”

“I went out looking for him that night. I looked downtown and looked in the taverns, because that’s where I thought I might find him. And when he wasn’t there, I just rode around, up one street and down the other, aimless-like. I rode up by Tarlow’s Point. Now why did I go up there if the Lord wasn’t directing me? I even slowed down as I passed Hillson House. Was the Lord directing my footsteps or wasn’t He?” he demanded. “But I was angry with the lad, and it blocked out the voice of the Lord. If I had been receptive, He would have spoken to me and told me where to look. But my mind was blocked, Rabbi, and the voice couldn’t come through.”

“You mustn’t think that way. Mr. Carter.”

“I feel better for having unburdened myself. Rabbi. I had to say it to someone, and I just couldn’t say it to my wife. Oh, I know the Lord moves in mysterious ways, and it’s part of some great plan that’s beyond the capacity of my mind or else it’s punishment on me or maybe even on my wife for sins committed in the past. But I want you to know that my own faith hasn’t wavered—not for a moment. And if my anger blocked out the voice, maybe that was part of the divine plan. too. Or maybe it was to teach me that my anger was a wickedness.”

“Are you suggesting the Lord would take your son’s life just to teach you to control your anger?” asked the rabbi sharply.

“I don’t know, but it is the duty of His servants to try to understand Him. And why else did the thought come to my head?”

“Not all the thoughts that come to a man’s head. Mr. Carter, are put there by God. And not all the things that happen are God’s work. If you see His hand in everything that happens, after a while you’ll begin blaming Him for unpleasant and wicked things that happen. Some things are the results of our own mistakes, and some things just happen by accident.”

Carter rose. “I don’t like to hear you say that. Rabbi. It seems to me that it shows a lack of faith, and I didn’t expect it of you. But maybe you’re just saying it to make me feel better.” He rose and went to the door. He seemed hurt.

“You’ll find. Rabbi.” he said, and he patted him on the arm, “that if you have faith, everything comes out right in the end.” He brightened and his face even relaxed in a grin. “By the bye, they’ve caught that colored fellow that took my boy’s life. They were bringing him in when I was down the station.”

Carter left, and the rabbi turned to Miriam. “Where’s my coat?” he said. “I’m going down to the station house.”

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