passed　on　Sunday　mornings　had　spent　the　night　inbars；　or　in　cat　houses；　or　on　the　streets；　or　on　the　rooftops；　or　under　the　stairs。　They　had　beendrinking。　They　had　gone　from　cursing　to　laughter；　to　anger；　to　lust。　Once　he　and　Roy　had　watcheda　man　and　woman　in　the　basement　of　a　condemned　house。　They　did　it　standing　up。　The　womanhad　wanted　fifty　cents；　and　the　man　had　flashed　a　razor。

John　had　never　watched　again；　he　had　been　afraid。　But　Roy　had　watched　them　many　times；and　he　told　John　he　had　done　it　with　some　girls　down　the　block。

And　his　mother　and　father；　who　went　to　church　on　Sundays；　they　did　it　too；　and　sometimesJohn　heard　them　in　the　bedroom　behind　him；　over　the　sound　of　rat’s　feet；　and　rat　screams；　and　themusic　and　cursing　from　the　harlot’s　house　downstairs。

Their　church　was　called　the　Temple　of　the　Fire　Baptized。　It　was　not　the　biggest　church　inHarlem；　not　yet　the　smallest；　but　John　had　been　brought　up　to　believe　it　was　the　holiest　and　best。

His　father　was　head　deacon　in　this　church—there　were　only　two；　the　other　a　round；　black　mannamed　Deacon　Braithwaite—and　he　took　up　the　collection；　and　sometimes　he　preached。　Thepastor；　Father　James；　was　a　genial；　well…fed　man　with　a　face　like　a　darker　moon。　It　was　he　whopreached　on　Pentecost　Sundays；　and　led　revivals　in　the　summer…time；　and　anointed　and　healed　thesick。

On　Sunday　mornings　and　Sunday　nights　the　church　was　always　full；　on　special　Sundays　itwas　full　all　day。　The　Grimes　family　arri