Episode 8

No Holy Man

After having secured his new gun rig and liking the feel of it and the weight of his new firearm, Joe Wiley noted the quality of the coat the dead man at his feet wore. A heavy black preacher’s frock coat. He kneeled and removed it from the corpse and stood back up with it draped from his hands. He inspected the garment. The blood would wash out easy enough with some scrubbing. It would serve him well to keep trail dust off during the day and stave off the chill of the desert night. Plus, he plain admired the look of it.

He noted a bullet in the left chest. He poked a finger into it and felt something inside. He flipped it around and dug into the inside pocket and produced a well-worn and much used Holy Bible. Bound in limp leather with pages trimmed in gold. The bible had stopped a bullet. Joe discovered the spent slug wedged well into the book. He pried it out with his fingers.

Joe had never properly learned to read, living like a scavenging coyote in his youth and following Ben around since then. No teachers or padres out in the wilderness to educate an unwanted child. Joe had always wanted to read and did try his hand at it every chance he had, to read signs or labels or whatever else had spelling on it. With Ben’s help he could read maybe a hundred words. He looked down at the first page.

Joe read the words before him in a halting, uncertain meter.

“But… let… just… ice… roll… on… like… a river, right… ess… right…”

“Righteousness like a never-ending stream,” Ben finished the verse from behind Joe.

Joe started, turning, and was embarrassed being caught reading so poorly. His face reddened and his dander got up.

“A body should be mindful of sneaking up on folks,” Joe said.

Ben smiled easy. “Well, aren’t we all a’bristle. I only thought I’d help you out. I see you found yourself the Good Book.”

Joe looked down at his boots and then back up to the man who was only family he had ever known.

“Found it in my new coat. He must have been a preacher. I figured I’d start trying to read, I’m reckoning,” Joe said and looked to Ben for a sign of approval.

“Good idea. Fine idea. This’ll give you some good practice if nothing else. It sure was read a lot before now.” Ben took the book and examined the well-read and worn pages. “Stopped a bullet even I see. But didn’t stop the one that killed him.” Ben slapped the book onto Joe’s chest causing the younger man to clutch it.

“Never figured you for a man who read scripture,” Joe said, his embarrassment giving way to a wry smile.

“Oh, I’m no holy man taken with religion. But there’s words of wisdom in there. You can’t go wrong with the lessons in there.”

“Lessons about Moses and Jesus and like that?”

“Lessons about the human animal,” Ben said

“What does right… righteousness mean, Ben?” Joe asked.

“It means doing good by yourself. Doing the right thing, the hard thing. It means being justified in what you do. That’s what it means to me, anyhow.”

“But what’s it mean in the book?”

“It means carrying forward God’s word through your deeds. Doing what He’d smile upon. It means Justice. Following His laws. Which isn’t always the convenient way out here in hard country and hard times,” Ben said.

Joe nodded and looked over at their fellow raiders working at the rewards of their attack. The teams were almost hitched. Reyes and a couple of Mexes were bringing the riding mounts out on lead lines.

“I mean to read this whole book. I mean to learn how to read good,” Joe declared.

“You do that. And who knows you might find God while you’re at it,” Ben scolded Joe. “For sure though, that bible in your pocket and that big ass Walker on your bony hip presents an interesting paradox.”

“What’s paradox mean?” Joe asked.

“A contradiction. Two notions fighting each other. The bible or the gun. Death or righteousness. They don’t ride easy together most times,” Ben said.

That made Joe’s brow knit as he stuffed the bible back into the coat pocket.

“Best get yourself cinched up. We’ll be heading out soon,” Ben said and clapped the youth on the shoulder.

Joe enjoyed the wordless gesture of approval and ran off to get his mount.