You can see it in the old man’s eyes. There’s no faltering there, no twitch of uncertainty. Zeb calls it, ‘the knowing’. It’s a certainty from God, a soul believer of Truth, there can be no wrong if you truly believe. I sneer at the term, I mean, who can know anything for certain. Zeb says the old man has it, this knowing, he genuinely believes it; there is no doubt, not behind those solid blue eyes. Maybe he’s right; he has no choice, him handling all them poisonous serpents during evening service.
Painting by Mike Handley