man kept wrapping them tighter. “I don’t believe in Sin,” he said. “Take your hand off me.”
“You do,” the blind man said, “you’re marked.”
“I ain’t marked,” Haze said, “I’m free.”
“You’re marked free,” the blind man said. “Jesus loves you and you can’t escape his mark. Go to the head of the stairs and….”
Haze jerked his arm free and jumped up. “I’ll take them up there and throw them over into the bushes,” he said. “You be looking! See can you see.”
“I can see more than you!” the blind man shouted. “You got eyes and see not, ears and hear not, but Jesus’ll make you see!”
“You be watching if you can see!” Haze said, and started running up the steps. People were already coming out the auditorium doors and some were half way down the steps. He pushed through them with his elbows out like sharp wings and when he got to the top, a new surge of them pushed him back almost to where he had started up. He fought through them again until somebody hollered, “Make room for this idiot!” and people got out of his way. He rushed to the top and pushed his way over to the side and stood there, glaring and panting.
“I never followed him,” he said aloud. “I wouldn’t follow a blind fool like that. My Jesus.” He stood against the building, holding the stack of leaflets by the string. A fat man stopped near him to light a cigar, and Haze pushed his shoulder. “Look down yonder,” he said. “See that blind man down there, he’s giving out tracts. Jesus. You ought to see him and he’s got this here ugly child dressed up in woman’s clothes, giving them out too. My Jesus.”
“There’s always fanatics,” the fat man said, moving on.
“My Jesus,” Haze said. He leaned forward near an old woman with orange hair and a collar of red wooden beads. “You better get on the other side, lady,” he said. “There’s a fool down there giving out tracts.” The crowd behind the old woman pushed her on, but she looked at him for an instant with two bright flea eyes. He started toward her through the people but she was already too far away, and he pushed back to where he had been standing against the wall. “Sweet Jesus Christ crucified,” he said, and felt something turn in his chest. The crowd was moving fast. It was like a big spread ravelling and the separate threads disappeared down the dark streets until
