Earlier, The Man had carved The Boy this nifty flute. (McCarthy doesn't really describe the carving – he just mentions it.) It must have taken a long time – musical instruments aren't easy to make after all. So The Boy just goes and throws the flute away? Wouldn't you be angry and hurt? But The Man isn't – or doesn't seem to be – which only goes to show how much he loves The Boy. Didn't someone once say that love is patient?

The Boy and The Man meet an old man on the road who at first says his name is Ely but then says that's not really his name. (For simplicity's sake, we're just calling him Ely.) Ely says some mysterious things, especially this last catchy phrase: "There is no God and we are his prophets." What in tarnation does that even mean? It could mean: "God doesn't exist and our suffering is proof that he doesn't exist." It could also mean: "God doesn't exist up above the universe, but he exists in some of us (like The Boy) and so we are his prophets." Or – and this is the more complicated, juicier version – it could just be one of those mystical religious statements that don't make logical sense but ring true to many people. (Here's a familiar one: "Jesus was both divine and human.") Is your head spinning now? Good.

Ely can be a real downer. For example, this statement: "It's better to be alone." He also pretty much says the years have worn down his belief in anything exceptional, anything holy. We think "where men cant live gods fare no better" means that men carry their gods within them. When men get broken by suffering, their gods also disappear. It's kind of a novel statement – that our happiness and comfort allow our gods to exist.

Sheesh, what a depressing image. Death (scythe, cloak, etc.) wandering the road, looking for people to kill when he's already killed everyone. It's probably worth taking a look at 237.23-30, since The Man and Ely talk there about how the last person on earth probably wouldn't know he was the last person (see "Themes: Spirituality"). We don't have much else to say here other than this passage is pretty bleak. Even Death gets the blues in this novel!

For starters, we love Ely's crotchetiness ("Maybe I should and maybe I shouldnt"). There's also a telling exchange here about The Boy, which helps explain – though only a little – his singular compassion in the face of such a dismal world. When The Man says he's not sure he understands The Boy's compassionate nature, Ely responds that maybe he believes in God. The Man doesn't commit one way or the other, but he does remain firm on one point: The Boy won't "get over" this kindness. As readers we can hold onto this tidbit from The Man. Whatever happens to The Boy, his kindness defines him. (Side question: Is kindness also what defines The Boy and The Man as a group? Is it the thing that differentiates them from other people on the road?)