Excerpt:

Now then, it came to pass that I felt that Tali had finally died. Ali died years ago, but I missed it. This were a few years ago, mind you, Tali dying, but I couldn't find hide nor tails of her. I asked my you lot, my grandchildren, and she couldn't find anything about a Taliah Goerne, not even searching knowing that she'd likely been married. Well then we went and we asked my son, and d'you know what he told me? Told me I've been getting confused, and that I grew up in Iowa, not Ohio, and that Darlington's still a farming old town, but he'd gone and done the geographical research or something and that my papa's farm was in Iowa, in the heartland of the midwest, and that there weren't ever any parcels owned by a Goerne.

Well, I had to set him straight on a few things, but he thinks that just because I'm more than eight decades old that he can know more than me. We never did find Taliah, or Zivah's. Zivah's the one though, you mark my words. When I'm good and dead, Zivah'll find it in her paper, or someone'll tell her, and she'll come to the service and she'll say something- she'll tell you all the stories I done forgot to tell about growing up with 'em for those nine years in Darlington. She'll tell you more too, about after I left for the service.

I'll bet there's some great stories in there- especially the one's Zivah'll tell you. She sure is a remarkable girl and I didn't do her enough justice in taling about her. I probably went and left out the most important thing there was. That was the day she kissed me. We never told a soul about it- she'd broken the laws of her people, and I'd gone and turned against Jesus- only for a few seconds, mind you.

Oh that day … I was 16, and she hadn't yet met Malachi, he was still afflicted with polio. It was the most beautiful of days …

"Your Pa catches us, we're both whipped," Zivah whispered, giggling as the two teenagers dangled their feet in the cool water.

"My father's not going to catch us," boasted Linden. "He's gone gambling again with the folks up at the church, but Mam thinks he's helping Old Neighbour Clark move some stuff. "Where's Ma Goerne think you are?"

Zivah shrugged, "Ma doesn't care that much, she just cares that your Pa is an evil man."

Linden considered this, and shrugged, "Maybe all Pa's are evil about things they don't understand. Your Pa wasn't evil about anything?"

"He was a leader, my Pa-" Zivah began.

"I know about that," Linden said, impatiently. "I mean about other things. He didn't go drinking none, or gambling, but my Pa ain't never raised a bad hand to my Mam, like William Donn's Pa does to him and to his Mam."

At this Zivah was outraged, "Why my Pa would never have! And he's dead! So even if he did, we can't go speaking bad about him! Shame on you, Linden! You should know better after all these years of knowing me!"

Now, holding on, I really ought to have known better than to say such stuff about her Pa like that, but she was perfectly allowed to call my living Pa evil just 'cause he was living? It didn't seem quite fair to me, so I shoved her in the stream. You heard me- I was a right bastard and shoved a girl. Not just any girl, Zivah.

Zivah sputtered in the icy cold water. It was cool on the tips of her toes on a beautiful spring day, but being shoved in was another matter.

Ever the gentleman, and regretting that he'd harmed a girl, Linden held out his hand, "Zivah, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Here, take my hand and we just won't insult anyone's Pa."

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that Zivah pulled me into the water with her. Well, she didn't. She was a better person than I.

Once she was up, Linden took off his overcoat and gave it to her, "No sense you freezing to death, or Ma Goerne will tan my hide."

"No sense us going back 'til I'm dry then," Zivah said back. "Else your Pa'll beat us both for me having your jacket."

Linden nodded to this and curled his feet underneath him, "I don't blame you if we both freeze together."

She laughed, "Oh, Linden, I'm not like that at all! In fact, this situation here's a bit funny to me, when I think about it. Here we are, a Jew and a Gentile, sitting by this stream, on this pretty day, and both our customs say their being violated right now. Just for sitting." She sighed again. "Don't you ever wish you could damn God, just once, just to get it out of your system?"

Linden was started, "Damn God? Crickets, Zivah, I ain't gonna sin, no matter how pretty the day is!"

Zivah just laughed again, tipped her head up to the sky, closed her eyes, and just laughed. "He'd understand," she said finally, still looking up at that sky. "There isn't much that God doesn't understand. He'd understand the urge to do it. He'd probably expect it."

"He didn't make us to sin against him!" Linden said, aghast. "Zivah, all this talk's making me nervous. Why don't we talk about the algebra lesson? That seems like so much more important? Or the war that's going on across the ocean? I don't want to talk about God and damning God."

"Alizah says God's left Europe," Zivah said softly. "I don't want to talk about the war. The war's nearly why I want to damn Him, just get it over with!" She laughed, "There's so much in this world, all this ugly. I think God would have a good laugh to hear someone damn him for the hell of it, and not because of the ugly, and it would be such a relief to Him from all the people who sing his praises every Sabbath- or Sunday."

"How would you do it? I'd have to confess to God that I was wrong, and ask for forgiveness, and I was doing it with a Jew, which makes it worse, I'm sure!" Linden said, his hands twitching in his lap.

Zivah was ready, and smiled, "Oh, we'd both be equally to blame. See Mr. Linden Harney, I'd kiss you, to see what you taste like, that's what I'd do."