〃
〃I'd like I'd like to understand what happened in there。〃
〃Ridgepole shivered； of course；〃 she said。 〃It happens sometimes。〃
〃I mean how it happened to miss him。 The beam split before it touched his head。 I want to feel his head； if I may〃
〃Not a mark on him；〃 she said。
〃I know。 I want to feel it to see if〃
She rolled her eyes upward and muttered； 〃Dowsing for brains；〃 but she also moved her hands away so he could feel the child's head。 Slowly now； and carefully； trying to understand the map of the boy's skull； to read the ridges and bumps； the troughs and depressions。 He had no need to consult a book。 The books were nonsense； anyway。 He had found that out quite quickly they all spouted idiotic generalities； such as； 〃The Red will always have a bump just over the ear； indicating savagery and cannibalism；〃 when of course Reds had just as much variety in their heads as Whites。 No； Thrower had no faith in those books but he had learned a few things about people with particular skills； and head bumps they had in mon。 He had developed a knack of understanding； a map of the shapes of the human skull； he knew as his hands passed over Al's head what it was he found there。
Nothing remarkable； that's what he found。 No one trait that stood out above all others。 Average。 As average as can be。 So utterly average that it could be a virtual textbook example of normality； if only there were any textbook worth reading。
He lifted his fingers away； and the boy who had stopped crying under his hands twisted on his mother's lap to look at him。 〃Reverend Thrower；〃 he said； 〃your hands are so cold I like to froze。〃 Then he squirmed off his mother's lap and ran off； shouting for one of the German boys； the one he had been wrestling so savagely before。
Faith laughed ruefully。 〃You see how quickly they forget？〃
〃And you； too；〃 he said。
She shook her head。 〃Not me；〃 she said。 〃I don't forget a thing。〃
〃You're already smiling。〃
〃I go on； Reverend Thrower。 I just go on。 That's not the same as forgetting。〃
He nodded。
〃So tell me what you found；〃 she said。
〃Found？〃
〃Feeling his bumps。 Brain…dowsing。 Does he got any？〃
〃Normal。 Absolutely normal。 Not a single thing unusual about his head。〃
She grunted。 〃Nothing unusual？〃
〃That's right。〃
〃Well； if you ask me； that's pretty unusual right there； if a body was smart enough to notice it。〃 She picked up the stool and carried it off； calling to Al and Cally as she went。
After a moment； Reverend Thrower realized she was right。 Nobody was so perfectly average。 Everybody had some trait that was stronger than the others。 It wasn't normal for Al to be so well balanced。 To have every possible skill that could be marked by the skull； and to have it in exactly even proportions。 Far from being average； the child was extraordinary； though Thrower had no notion what it would mean in the child's life。 Jack of all trades and master of none？ Or master of all？
Superstition or not； Thrower found himself wondering。 A seventh son of a seventh son； a startling shape to the head； and the miracle he could think of no other word of the ridgebeam。 An ordinary child would have died this day。 Natural law demanded it。 But someone or something was protecting this child； and natural law had been overruled。
Once the talk had subsided； the men resumed work on the roof。 The original beam was useless； of course； and they carried the two sections of it outside。 After what had happened； they had no intention of using the beams for anything at all。 Instead they set to work and pleted another beam by midafternoon； rebuilt the scaffolding； and by nightfall the whole roof ridge was set in place。 No one spoke of the incident with the ridgebeam； at least not in Thrower's presence。 And when he went to look for the shivered ridgepole； he couldn't find it anywhere。
Chapter Seven Altar
Alvin Junior wasn't scared when he saw the beam falling； and he wasn't scared when it crashed to the floor on either side。 But when all the grown…ups started carrying on like the Day of Rapture； a…hugging him and talking in whispers； then he got scared。 Grown…ups had a way of doing things for no reason at all。
Like the way Papa was setting on the floor by the fire； just studying the split pieces of the shivered ridgepole； the piece of wood that sprung under the weight of the ridgebeam and sent it all crashing down。 When Mama was being herself； not Papa or nobody could bring big old pieces of split and dirty wood into her house。 But today Mama was as crazy as Papa； and when he showed up toting them big old splinters of wood； she just bent over； rolled up the rug； and got herself out of Papa's way。
Well； anybody who didn't know to get out of Papa's way when he had that look on his face was too dumb to live。 David and Calm was lucky； they could go off to their own houses on their own cleared land； where their own wives had their own suppers cooking and they could decide whether to be crazy or not。 The rest of them weren't so lucky。 With Papa and Mama being crazy； the rest of them had to be crazy； too。 Not one of the girls fought with any of the others； and they all helped fix supper and clean up after without a word of plaint。 Wastenot and Wantnot went out and chopped wood and did the evening milking without so much as punching each other in the arm； let alone getting in a wrestling match； which was right disappointing to Alvin Junior； seeing as how he always got to wrestle the loser； which was the best wrestling he ever got to do； them being eighteen years old and a real challenge； not like the boys he usually hunkered down with。 And Measure； he just sat there by the fire； whittling out a big old spoon for Mama's cooking pot； never so much as looking up but he was waiting； just like the others； for Papa to e back to his right self and yell at somebody。
The only normal person in the house was Calvin； the three…year…old。 The trouble was that normal for him meant tagging along after Alvin Junior like a kitten on a mouse's trail。 He never came close enough to play with Alvin Junior； or to touch him or talk to him or anything useful。 He was just there； always there at the edge of things； so Alvin would look up just as Calvin looked away； or catch a glimpse of his shirt as he ducked behind a door； or sometimes in the dark of night just hear a faint breathing that was closer than it ought to be； which told him Calvin wasn't lying on his cot； he was standing right there by Alvin's bed； watching。 Nobody ever seemed to notice it。 It had been more than a year since Alvin gave up trying to get him to stop。 If Alvin Junior ever said； 〃Ma； Cally's pestering me；〃 Mama would just say； 〃Al Junior； he didn't say a thing； he didn't touch you； and if you don't like him just standing quiet as a body could ask； well； that's just too bad for you； because it suits me fine。 I wish certain other of my children could learn to be as still。〃 Alvin figured that it wasn't that Calvin was normal today； it's that the rest of the family had just e up to his regular level of craziness。
Papa just stared and stared at the split wood。 Now and then he'd fit it together the way it was。 Once he spoke； real quiet。 〃Measure； you sure you got all them pieces？〃
Measure said； 〃Ever single bit； Pa； I couldn't've got more with a broom。 I couldn't've got more if I'd bent down and lapped it up like a dog。〃
Ma was listening； of course。 Papa once said that when Ma was paying attention； she could hear a squirrel fart in the woods a half mile away in the middle of a storm with the girls rattling dishes and the boys all chopping wood。 Alvin Junior wondered sometimes if that meant Ma knew more witchery than she let on； since one time he sat in the woods not three yards away from a squirrel for more than an hour； and he never heard it so much as belch。
Anyway； she was right there in the house tonight； so of course she heard what Papa asked； and she heard what Measure answered； and her being as crazy as Papa； she lashed out like as if Measure had just taken the name of the Lord。 〃You mind your tongue； young man； because the Lord said unto Moses on the mount； honor your father and mother that your days may be long on the land which the Lord your God has given you； and when you speak fresh to your father then you are taking days and weeks and even years off your own life； and your soul is not in such a condition that you should wele an early visit to the judgment bar to meet your Savior and hear him say your eternal fate！〃
Measure wasn't half so worried about his eternal fate as he was worried about Mama being riled at him。 He didn't try to argue that he wasn't talking smart or being sassy only a fool would do that when Mama was already hot。 He just started in looking humble and begging her pardon； not to mention the forgiveness of Papa and the sweet mercy of the Lord。 By the time she was done with ragging him； poor Measure had already apologized a half a dozen times； so that she finally just grumped and went back to her sewing。
Then Measure looked up at Alvin Junior and winked。
〃I saw that；〃 said Mama； 〃and if you don't go to hell； Measure； I'l