It was good thinking of home. He thought of it deliberately now--thoughtof home with passion.... He saw himself sitting in the front-pew ofthe chancel, on the men's and boys' side, wearing his clean-smellingchoir-vestments: the long black cassock and the white linenstiffly-starched cotta--he felt the pinch and chafe of the Buster Browncollar as he turned to watch the minister preparing the communion. Fromacross the red-carpeted aisle, on the women's side, he heard hismother's voice among all the others, the warm alto voice that reachedthe farthest corner of the nave as surely as the most piercing soprano.He looked at her where she sat among the other women and girls. Shesmiled back at him, her perfect teeth gleaming, and gave him thesmallest wink. He had heard it said that Mr. Harrison often declared,yes even to his wife, that he only came to church on Sundays to look atMrs. Birnam in the choir; and he wondered if it were true.... Thechurch was filled with sunlight, it was a wonderful summer Sundaymorning. The sun streamed in through the yellowish-green stained-glasswindows and bathed the congregation in a soft sub-marine light, as ifthe whole place were under water. Beyond the communion rail, his littlebrother Wick knelt at the altar, his hands at his side, not leaningagainst anything, and Don could see that the hem of his white cottatrembled ever so slightly. Wick was waiting to help Mr. Brittain withthe service, and Don was waiting to tell Wick after church (and so too,probably, was their mother) that his sloppy plaid socks showed beneaththe skirt of his cassock. Behind the wall in back of the men's side hecould hear the muffled thump and pound of the wooden pump that sustainedthe breath of the organ.... The minister was ready to serve thechoir. His mother rose with the other women and went to the altar rail,where they knelt in a row on the red-carpeted step. All the heads werebowed, now, except hers. She looked straight before her, her elbows onthe rail, her hands clasped under her chin. She seemed lost in thought,and so was he, as he gazed at his beautiful mother, lovely with theclear profile, the straight nose, the soft cheeks--the soft, pink,rose-like cheeks....
Beneath The Neon Epub File
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