The healer looks for a place to run but there are no windows in the airless chamber of what his good work has brought him to and no door but the one the farmer guards with the point of a gun.

“You can’t leave me down here with him,” the healer says, and he searches for some shred of sanity in the seamed faces of the farmer and his wife. His playmate edges closer.

“You could even eat supper with us if you wanted to after you heal him,” the mother says. “Be right nice if we could all set down at the table together.”

“He makes too big a mess for him to eat with us very much,” the farmer says, a little apologetically, gesturing with the gun. “Throws his food everywhere and what not.”

The farmer turns with the key in his pocket and fumbles down deep in there for it. He takes the key out and has to almost turn his back on the healer to get it in the lock, but he said, “I wouldn’t try nothing funny if I was you.”

“If you’re scared of him biting you we’ll hold him and not let him bite you,” the mother says.

The key clicks in the lock and the farmer says, “I just don’t believe he’s much of a mind to heal him, mama. We can go up here and take us a nap and when we come back down they liable to be discussing philosophy or something, you cain’t never tell.”

“You people don’t understand,” the healer says. “He’s beyond help. There’s nothing I can do for him. I don’t deal with the mind. I deal with the body.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with his body,” the mother says. “We just had to slow him down a little.”

“His body’s in good shape,” the farmer says. “He’s strong as a ox. Why I’ve seen him pull cows out of mud holes before. I don’t believe he knows how strong he is.”

“We’ll be back after a while,” the mother says, and out the door she goes.

“Come on, daddy,” she says back. The farmer backs out the door holding the gun on the healer and then the door closes. There are sounds of the other lock being affixed on the other side. The healer backs hard into the corner and eyes the mumbling being in front of him.

“Jesus would heal him if He was here!” the farmer hollers through the thick door. “I done read all about what He done in the Bible! What They’ve done, They’ve done laid this burden on us to test our faith? Ain’t that right, mama!”

“That’s right, daddy!” the mother shouts through the door.

“We been tested!” the farmer screams. “We been tested hard and we ain’t been found wanting! Have we, mama!”

“You got that right, daddy! Lot of folks couldn’t put up with what we’ve put up with!”