don’t say it, Bones think he lifted Jesus. And the two of them walked up that hill. One man carrying a crossbar and maybe helping Jesus when he stumble and Jesus carrying, well . . . everything else. “Bones told me that man was from Cyrene.” Clay looked at me. “That’s North Africa.” He paused. Wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “That means, according to Bones, the last man to touch Jesus in kindness was a Black man from North Africa. ’Cause the next to touch him drove nails through him.” He nodded as another tear cascaded. “I like the thought of that.”
