The Man Who Loved Birds by Fenton Johnson Page B

all. The guys I served with in Nam—seem like it was always the guys that was too good for the world that got hurt or killed, because they had what you’d call principles—they had certain things they was just not able or willing to do and Nam was no place for a guy who had things he wasn’t able or willing to do. And the best guys—least if you’re asking me—were the guys that drew the line and said I aint a-going to do it at all. Which is why I’m sitting here listening to you because I wasn’t one of those guys, I did pretty much everything they told me to do and then some. I’m hoping you oryour Paul will give me to understand why it was that I went, why I killed all those people who never done nothing wrong except get in the way. My way.”
    A long silence, except for the chatter and gurgle of the creek over its bed of stones and a lone cardinal’s sleepy midday call
purty-purty-purty-purty-purty
.
    “You did your duty,” Flavian said. “At a different point Jesus, who is our final authority, tells us to render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and to God that which is God’s.”
    “Meaning what?”
    “Meaning that we should give our government its due—you know, pay taxes and even go to war if that’s what it asks of us.”
    “Hellfire. Here you was a draft dodger—”
    “
Conscientious objector
.”
    “—caint even recognize a compliment when you hear one and telling me to think for myself and then you go telling me Jesus wants me to bow down to the boot. I know that part about Caesar—I remember hearing that and the nuns told us the very same thing, that it was about giving the government its due, but then I gave the government its due and I came away with a whole different notion of what the man is giving us to understand.”
    “Oh?” Flavian was amused. “And what do
you
think Jesus is giving us to understand?”
    “Well, you show me. What belongs to Caesar?” From his sycamore armchair Johnny Faye threw his arm in a sweeping gesture that took in the trees and the creek and the sky and Flavian, still on his knees in the dirt with the trowel in one hand and the sheet from the morning service in the other. “What do you see that belongs to Caesar? There aint nothing that belongs to Caesar. There aint nothing that belongs to the government, there aint even anything that belongs to the monastery. And so when you tell me Jesus says to render to God that which is God’s and to Caesar that which is Caesar’s, I think that makes a lot of sense. Give the guy credit for some smarts—hell, we’re still talking about him,he must have had more on the ball than your average Joe. He was standing there talking in front of the Pharisees and he knew damn well what would happen if he said what he wanted to say, and he also knew that it was going to happen anyways but that he weren’t ready for the action. So he says what he says in a way that the people in the know will get what he means and the Pharisees aint got a clue. Because what he wants to say is that not one damn bit belongs to Caesar, every bit of it belongs to God including you and me, your life and my life, and that our job is to treat everything and everybody like it don’t belong to nobody but God and fuck the big corporations and the government.”
    “Now where did you learn all that.”
    “Didn’t learn it nowheres, just thought it out on my own.”
    “Well, you can make Jesus out to say whatever you want, people do it all the time but that doesn’t make it true. At least you have the story right. That’s something. That’s more than most people.”
    Johnny Faye grinned and pointed at his temple. “I might be shooting blanks upstairs but I always been good at remembering. You tell me something, a year later I can spit it back to you. I could talk Paul to you chapter and verse if it comes to that, just from the times I heard it read out loud when I was a kid. I had a uncle who was a preacher, he used to tell me I had the