Established Marvel : a Monk by Abbreviation

66. SHADRAK SUCKED ME DRY:

I did nothing to cry out I washed no blackboards uncoiled no hoses I painted no walls on un-numbered doorways I rolled no solid tires down streets paved with stone I called for no Earthen religion on castles and heaps I read nothing of death or destruction and all the while I stayed in one place waiting I expected nothing but waited anyway and as this all occurred I saw mothers suckling their infants and fathers wrapped in gauze and burial monuments for the recent dead uncorked like wine bottles at a decent celebration and nothing came to mind but every living thing remembered something as the sky itself dipped down from high and touched the living blessed leaving marks on heads and shoulders - tongues of icy flame delivered judgment and wires of some new dimension roped their way 'round hearts and minds and I turned to the first man I saw and said "has anyone yet seen deliverance?" and he replied to me "I have - once before - and was really non-plussed" and with that he turned into something other than himself as I watched him disappear down Guardian Lane with a quite bedaggered limp and cane - it all arrived at once this jagged lump of message in a bundle : fifteen sailors looking for gold five ladies in waiting standing there two dogs for the dog fight ready and a candy-stickered flame a'lit on the edge of the symbol and all John Street was blazing with room for some more as the blessed priest from Joralemon stepped forward to read the words he saw 'Introibo ad altare Dei" and the crowd tried to roar but found it was mute as carriages and horses fitted themselves coarsely down that very narrow street - the idea was to get by even without a good fit - there were burial mounds and oyster mounds and piles of indian shells everywhere as I wondered to myself 'what should I do about this presence beneath my cloak?' and it came to pass that it was mere spirit sprightly and vain trying to unencumber the feelings from inside my heart (they had grown cold they had grown so cold) but I saw nothing beyond yesterday and planned for far less as dollars floating down from Heaven breathed envy on the marking men who sauntered by with ledger books and pens : "good sir what is it that you write?" I loudly asked and one turned and said "I write for all those who cannot and all their little children too" and I realized he must be joking as his pen had turned to rain and it was pouring down like tears but the cemetery force was cold as ice and none were left to speak - 'what shall I say' was all that was left - written like tattoo'd fire afloat on the bold blue sky and I awoke and Shadrak had sucked me dry.