Lucas!” Marta yelled half-way across the diner, then rushed to grab him by the shoulders. “Have you been fighting?” She jerked him a couple of times.
“No…”
She shook him again, “Don’t you lie to me. I can see your face.”
I reached to take one of Marta’s arms from the boy and received an angry look from her. “Marta,” I whispered gently. “Let him explain.”
Pushing him, she answered sharply, “Explain then!” Then she looked at both Molly and me, You coddle him too much, but go ahead and listen.”
“What happened?” I asked Lucas.
He looked at his sister, frightened, then straightened up and answered me. “Fernando, he stole a horse. I tried to stop him. I told him it was no good to be running away. He laughed, and hit me knocking me to the ground, telling me that he was through with shoveling manure. Then he kicked me, laughing.”
Glancing at Marta, I could see she had softened some.
“Senior Marshal, I tried to pull him from the saddle, but he kicked me in the face. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help more,” he said with tears in his eyes, but he was not crying, it was from the shame he felt that he had let me down.
I looked him over some, glimpsed a bit at his eye. “How you feeling, son?”
“Like I’ve been kicked,” he responded which brought laughter from the Judge and a good chuckle from me. Molly hid her face so she wouldn’t laugh for she saw out of the corner of her eye the expression on Marta’s face.
“Isn’t it bad enough that my husband goes out daily into danger and now you, you, get into trouble, and now this,” she snapped, but at least she was no longer yelling.
“Whose horse did he take?” I asked, not wanting to ask if it was one of mine. He already had done that once, that’s the reason he was mucking the streets.
He shook his head, “I don’t know. We were working down toward Foster’s store when it all happened. He jumped on a sorrel, that’s all I can tell you.”
Foster’s Mercantile was a couple doors away from the Broken Drum Saloon. It probably belonged to one of the cowboys in the saloon.
I looked at the Judge. “Go ahead, check it out. I’ll eat my pie,” then he grinned, “might even eat yours too if you take too long.”
Before we could leave the diner, Darnelle rushed in. “Miles,” then she looked at the table, “Molly, you too. You must come to the store.” She was excited, but didn’t wait for an answer but rushed back out.
Looking over at Molly, she simply said, “What now?” Then over to Marta, “Can you handle the diner for a few minutes?”
Marta had settled down by now. She was simply fearful over her family. I can understand how she burst out in anger for she had been holding in her fear for Charlie. With Lucas being hurt, well, it all came flooding out.
Since the establishments were so close together I decided on going to see what was happening with Darnelle. She wouldn’t have left the store unattended so Mrs. Blackstone must be there. But she wanted Molly along so I didn’t reckon it was anything dangerous, but my interest was peaked a mite.
Lucas stayed outside to see if anyone came out looking for his horse, while Molly and I went on inside. I started looking around. I saw Mrs. Blackstone at the register, smiling. That was good.
“Miles! Back here!” came the voice of Darnelle in the back of the store.
Molly and I started back. He was bent over, working on some ledgers, with Darnelle beaming beside him. “Daddy, you have visitors.”
“Tell them I’m busy,” he replied gruffly.
“Wilson!” I said in surprise.
“Is that you Forrest, can’t you see I’m busy?” came the gruff voice again, then he began to laugh. From the storeroom walked his wife Elizabeth with a radiant smile on her face.
Molly rushed to her to hug her then turned her attention to Wilson. “Thank the good Lord! It’s so good to see you out!” she exclaimed then proceeded to give him a hug.
“Doc said if I felt like it to get out. So here I am,” he said then reached his hand toward me. “I didn’t know fresh air could be so exhilarating, nor so exhausting. I can’t walk, don’t know if I’ll ever be able to, and when I speak, sometimes it’s slurred, but here I am.”
It was then I noticed that he was in a wheelchair. Elizabeth had pushed him from his house. “You let me know when you’re ready to go home, and I’ll help.” It would not be as easy a push going home as it was mostly uphill.
I was just getting ready to ask some questions of Wilson when Lucas burst through the door of the mercantile. He’s had a habit of doing so lately. “Senor, Marshal, a man outside hees very angry. Hees horse is missing.”
Month: May 2021
Echoes From the Campfire
It was better to have no friend than to have one and betray him.”
–Charles A. Seltzer (The Boss of the Lazy Y)
“A heart that devises wicked plans, Feet that are swift in running to evil,”
–Proverbs 6:18 (two of the seven things that are an abomination to the Lord in Proverbs 6)
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I’m posting quite a bit of verses from Psalm 55 this morning. Take time to read them, ponder them and contemplate them. Remember that God’s Word is food for the soul.
9 – Destroy them, Lord, and confuse their speech, for I see violence and strife in the city.
10 – Its walls are patrolled day and night against invaders, but the real danger is wickedness within the city.
11 – Murder and robbery are everywhere there; threats and cheating are rampant in the streets.
12 – It is not an enemy who taunts me–I could bear that. It is not my foes who so arrogantly insult me–I could have hidden from them.
13 – Instead, it is you–my equal, my companion and close friend.
14 – What good fellowship we enjoyed as we walked together to the house of God.
15 – Let death seize my enemies by surprise; let the grave swallow them alive, for evil makes its home within them.
16 – But I will call on God and the LORD will rescue me.
17 – Morning, noon, and night I plead aloud in my distress, and the LORD hears my voice.
18 – He rescues me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me, even though many still oppose me.
19 – God, who is king forever, will hear me and will humble them. Interlude (Selah)
For my enemies refuse to change their ways; they do not fear God.
20 – As for this friend of mine, he betrayed me; he broke his promises.
21 – His words are as smooth as cream, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!
22 – Give your burdens to the LORD, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.
23 – But you, O God, will send the wicked down to the pit of destruction. Murderers and liars will die young.” (NLT)
No, part of this is not from today’s newspaper. It is life of David and he is showing two situations that he faces: first is the external danger of the culture around him. Cities, society, people are facing destruction. The world is in a mess and David sees it and does not know what to do about it. Lies, cheating, murder, robbery, violence, strife and terror–the real dangers lie within the city not from an outside enemy.
The second issue that David is facing is betrayal–betrayal by a close friend. This person went to “church” with him. They did things together, they went places together, now the friend has turned against him. David was angry, but he does not fall into sin with his anger; he does not take revenge. Even through the trials and the emotional wringer, David is steady. George O. Wood states this, “The Lord gives permission to express that anger to Him, but it is not acceptable for us to act on the anger. Maturity in Christ takes us along an even higher and more difficult path: forgiveness and overcoming evil with good.”
One more thought. Think of the Last Supper, the disciples in the room around the table with the Lord. They are celebrating the Passover–the atoning sacrifice. It is probably subdued giving to the circumstance, and then Jesus cast his eyes upon Judas. A friend, a man who has shared the dust of the roads with Him, and shared the nights camped in the wilderness with Him–the betrayer. Judas slipped out quietly, what did the others think? But, Jesus knew. Jesus truly felt the words of Psalm 55.
“Cast thy burden upon the Lord,
Only lean upon His Word;
Thou wilt soon have cause to bless
His unchanging faithfulness.”
–unknown
Coffee Percs
It was good sitting there in the cool of early morning, with the faint smell of woodsmoke in the air, the smell of frying bacon, the smell of good coffee.”
–Louis L’Amour (The Lonely Men)
Why shore the coffee tastes like mud this mornin’, they were grounds earlier. Ha, that’s what yuh get for callin’ me older than dirt, why I’m just a youngster yet. I remember the days though…the day of runnin’ the prairie with ol’ Bill. No, not Grizz, but Buffalo. He shore was a grand guy, lots of stories to tell, but say, when a person gets on up in years, well, like me, there are plenty of stories. Mind you, stories, not lies. I well remember my Grandpa sayin’ that the only thing different between him and George Washington was that the Father of our Country couldn’t tell a lie. Grandpa said that he could, but just wouldn’t do it–in fact, the straight of the matter is that the truth often seems more far-fetched than the lies.
But what do people want to believe? Yuh got it, the lies. Lies and liars, why they seem to be part of the times. Makes a person wonder where the truth-tellers went. In fact, if a person stands up today to tell the truth, the liars with their cohorts, the media, brand them a liar. Go figure…
Ahhh, the coffee isn’t really all that bad this mornin’. Tastes mighty good. The breeze is nice, and, well, Pard, it’s good to be breathin’ that fresh mornin’ air that the Lord has provided. Some places I’ve been the air ain’t so fresh in the mornin’, nor is the coffee very tasty. Why I’ve seen some folk drink coffee that yuh can see through. A facsimile of coffee, sorta like chicken soup. Ol’ Pappy used to say upon tastin’ some soup that they must have put galoshes on the chicken and had it walk through the broth. Well, that’s the way some folks’ coffee is. Hmmm, now to think of it, that’s the way some folks’ lives are–just barely a taste of livin’.
One more thought as we finish up the pot this mornin’. I saw where that old woman, remember the one who ran for President is on the prowl again. She just can’t keep shut up and stay out of the pie, but she said that the President ought to use the Covid and the vaccine to push as much of his agenda through as he can. In other words, spread more lies to get what yuh want.
With that bein’ said, and the coffee bein’ gone, it’s about time for yuh to be mountin’ up and on down the trail. Hmmm, to think of it, weak coffee is sorta like the guy who didn’t check his cinch. It won’t keep him in the saddle on the rough trails.
Vaya con Dios.
Echoes From the Campfire
Voices From the Diamond
May 7, 2021
“What a great day for baseball. Let’s play two.”
–Ernie Banks
“Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself.”
–Philippians 2:3 (NKJV)
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No, you’re at the right place, and no I’m not changing the name of the morning devotion, except for today. I have pondered since Monday about playing baseball. Not dwelling on it, mind you, but thinking about it. Maybe it is because of my birthday, and I’m older than the wood in some of those bats. Perhaps it’s because of the book I’m reading about Bobby Richardson: Impact Player, or maybe just plain old nostalgia.
From the time I was ten years old, all I ever wanted to do was play baseball. If I wasn’t playing in a game, or practicing on a team I could always find a game going on at a school yard. I would throw my glove on the handlebars of my bike and ride through the town of Boulder looking for a game. If none was to be found I went to the back yard. We had back steps, three of them and I would throw a tennis ball against them then field it playing an imaginary game. Once in a while the ball would jump backward and hit the screen. That wasn’t a problem until the screen broke and the ball would go up and hit the back door. When I was fourteen we moved and the house had a stone foundation about four feet high–perfect for throwing a ball against hit for I had no idea where it would carom and I moved from a tennis ball to handballs and sometimes golf balls. If it was raining I had developed a game with dice and I would play games between teams. I had at least half the major league teams memorized.
I was fortunate for Boulder was a baseball town. I played, when I was twelve, on the All-Star team, the Boulder Skyline Larks. We were able to take the state title, and then traveled by train to Cedar City, UT. Now if that wasn’t an experience for a twelve year old and all because of baseball. I was instrumental in defeating a team from Nevada by hitting two homeruns and driving in five. We won a second game, then on to Salt Lake City where we were defeated by a team from Arizona in extra innings. Talk about tears in the dugout.
I was able to make the team in junior high where I played third base, and then made the team in high school where I played second, my normal position. Through the years I played a lot at shortstop but second was my favorite position. The shortstop and I practiced hours upon hours of different ways of turning a double play. I learned that you don’t catch the ball but let it hit an open glove. I was proud of my letter jacket–high school letterman, whooeee.
Then on to college where I played four years. That was the beginning of the change. A change that was slow in coming because of my dreams, my desires. No, I really didn’t worship baseball, but that’s all I wanted to do. I had a good college career, even if we always didn’t have the greatest team, we had a good team. I had a few scouts looking at me, and I talked with a couple. In the summer I played semi-pro baseball after American Legion. Like I said, Boulder was a great baseball town back then, and there was the awesome, powerful semi-pro team, the Boulder Collegians. I played on the other Boulder semi-pro team, the Boulder Nuggets, consisting primarily of local talent.
During my sophomore year in college, then my second year with the Nuggets, I could feel something deep-down gnawing at my heart. It had always been baseball, baseball, baseball. Ernie Banks once said, “Generate happiness within yourself,” and that’s what baseball was able to do. I served the Lord, I wanted to serve the Lord. I was president of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes in college and was able to attend one of their camps in Estes Park.
Baseball began to dwindle. At the time I couldn’t tell you why. A coach came my way with whom I didn’t get along with very well and that was unusual for me. I still played as hard, for I took the Scriptures for a “motto” play as unto the Lord. Which I was. But was I giving my life totally to Him? Little things happened. But finally, it was while playing for the Nuggets that I realized I was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing. I had always played with kids who were not Christian, but now I was with adults and that is total different lifestyle. The Lord was gently showing me that I was laying up treasures in the wrong places.
To shorten the story, I tell people that I was finally drafted. No, it wasn’t by the Tigers or the Red, the two teams that talked to me the most, but it was by Uncle Sam. Vietnam was going hot and heavy, and I knew that as soon as I graduated, I would be drafted so I enlisted before I graduated and left for basic training one week after graduation. In the Air Force I played fast pitch softball, which was fun, but it wasn’t like good old hardball, and back to the realization that I didn’t belong with those men. The Lord took baseball from me; no, He didn’t grab me by the shoulders and said, “No, you can’t play!” but my little nudges along the way. If was over a dozen years before I picked up a baseball and I was fortunate to coach a high school team in Louisiana.
The game has changed so much. Attitudes have changed, the game has changed, doubleheaders are almost a thing of the past (wouldn’t Ernie be disappointed?), now there is analytical baseball. In other words, the computer tells you where to play. Gone are the days of reading the hitter, how he stood in the batter’s box, what our pitcher was throwing. (Sorry, I got side-lined for a moment shaking my head.)
The Lord gave me wonderful opportunities. I learned confidence, I learned to speak before people, I learned the importance of team. I learned that there are more important things in life, such as the Lord Himself, family, and friends. I was given a great ministry of teaching and discipling students for the Lord and for twenty-eight years I was able to coach. Ha, but only a few of those years was I able to coach baseball. I will finish this little biographical sketch (and I’m sorry to be long today, but I could have gone on) with the words from the other DiMaggio–Dom.
“With us, the game and the desire to play it were the number one priority. We took a tremendous pride in what we did and in how the public viewed us. The money was well down on the list, maybe the third or fourth or fifth reason we were major league baseball players in 1941.” (or I could day 1968)
–Dom DiMaggio
Today players want the money, but back in the day we would have paid to play. If you would go to my university and look at the field no one could tell you how it came to be. Everyday, after practice, and in the off season, about a half dozen of us players would take the time to work on the field–lay it out, mark it, put in the mound, make sure it was dragged, etc. Come on, Ernie–let’s play two!