Why is God cruel, David?”
Why is God cruel, David?”
For a moment he didn’t answer, and then something Reverend Martin had said came to him—the TV in the corner had been broadcasting a soundless spring-training baseball game that day.
“God’s cruelty is refining,” he said.
“We’re the mine and God is the miner?”
“Well—”
“And all cruelty is good? God is good and cruelty is good?”
“No, hardly any of it’s good!” David said. For a single horrified second he saw Pie, dangling from the hook on the wall, Pie who walked around ants on the sidewalk because she didn’t want to hurt them.
“What is cruelty done for evil?”
“Malice. Who are you, sir?”
“Never mind. Who is the father of malice?”
“The devil . . . or maybe those other gods my mother talked about.”
“Never mind can tah and can tak, at least for now. We have bigger fish to fry, so pay attention.
