Paradise Sky

I got on Satan and rode back to Fort Smith. I rode on out to where Luther’s Church was and tied Satan to the hitching rail. The door to the church was open. I went inside. It was small, six pews to a side. I went to the one up front and sat down. There was a lectern up there, and behind it on the wall was a carving of Jesus on the cross. I sat there and studied on it. I heard someone else come in, turned, and looked. It was Luther. He was wearing overalls and a dirty hat.

“I thought that was Satan tied out front,” Luther said, walking toward me.

“Coming from you,” I said, “that’s fu

“You get religion, Nat?”

“I came here to see if I felt anything, but I didn’t. It is a little stuffy in here, though, and at first I thought that might be God, as I figure he’s got to be a big fellow. But no, it’s just stuffy.”

“How come you’re really here, Nat?”

By this time Luther had took the seat beside me on the pew.

“I’m a deputy marshal,” I said.

“I’ve heard.”

“I just seen another marshal kill a man for stealing a pig. The man had been shooting at folks, but he took a run for it, and the other marshal shot him in the neck and killed him.”

“You’re saying it wasn’t necessary?”

“I’m saying I’m a marshal, too, and I got to wonder if being like that just comes with time. Wondering if you get so you can kill without it mattering.”

Luther sat silent for a time. “You’ve killed. You’ve told me about it.”

“I think they had it coming more than a fellow stole a pig. Fellow did shoot and kill the pig, and maybe that counts for something. It was an i

“You have to make your own decisions. You have to make sure you’re right with God. I can’t speak for the pig.”

“What if you don’t believe in God?”

“I won’t try to convince you. We’ve had that talk. But I will say this. If you can’t get right with God, then you better get right with yourself.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” I said.

“Does it help?”

“As much as anything could.”

“People are an odd bunch,” Luther said.

“Sometimes I feel odder than the rest.”

“Should I pray for that man’s soul for you, Nat?”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt, even if I think your words are bouncing off the wall.”

“You’re saying it’s the thought that counts.”

“I don’t think anything counts much, to tell the truth.”

“I’ll say a prayer for him anyway. What’s his name?

“Chooky Bullwater. I wonder if he stole the pig cause he was hungry. They said it was an old feud, but maybe he just wanted something to eat. I been that low before.”

“So have I, as I’ve told you. I had a Saul-on-the-road-to-Damascus moment. Maybe this is yours.”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“You didn’t shoot Chooky or the pig, Nat.”

“True enough.”

“Ruthie told me you were in town. She told me about Win. I didn’t know her, but I remember how you talked about her. I’m sorry.”

“I should have come to see you sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Luther put his hand on my shoulder. “Ruthie has feelings for you, you know that?”

“I do.”

“I know there’s been some bad things in your life, and Win was important to you, but if you have feelings for Ruthie, I think you ought to let her know. And if you don’t, then you ought to let her be.”

“I guess I’m sorting out how I feel about things.”

“Don’t sort too long,” he said. “There’s other fellows that have an interest in her. I fear the Baptist fellow the most.”

“What about a nonbeliever?”

“You got room to come around. He don’t. He’s solid Baptist.”

“Judge Parker says God is a Methodist.”

“Better that than a Baptist or those fools that play with snakes.”

“Somewhere along the line I figure you got bit by a Baptist instead of a snake,” I said.

“I do hold a certain prejudice, but that is neither here nor there. It’s good to see you again, Nat. You know, Samson greatly admires you…Let me ask. Does this event today mean you’ve given up on the man hurt Win?”

“I’m still a deputy marshal, and he is in my sights as an officer of the law.”

“And that’s all there is to it? A man doing his duty?”

I didn’t answer that. I dodged around it. “You know what? Say a few words for that i

I got up, patted Luther on the shoulder as I passed, and left out of there.

31

A few days later, one su

I finished up my testimony and was coming down the courthouse steps with a warrant in my pocket for a fellow who had robbed another fellow of a horse, when who should I see riding along on his big sorrel but Bass Reeves. Riding along with him was Choctaw Tom.

There was a white marshal with them, Heck Thomas, and he was driving the prison wagon that was rattling along behind them. In the back of it six men was peeking out of the bars at me. Three of them was colored, two was maybe Indian or Mexican, and the other was white. I recognized him. Kid Red, the boy me and Bronco Bob had taught to shoot. He was as ski

“Hold up, Bass,” I said.

Bass raised his hand, and Heck pulled the wagon to a stop.

“I know one of your prisoners,” I said.

“You knowing him won’t help him none. These are the worst among a bad lot,” he said.

“They steal full-grown hogs instead of pigs?”

“That’s fu

“I’d like to speak to one of the turds for a moment, the one I know.”

“All right,” Bass said. “Heck, Choctaw, let’s get a cup of coffee. These fellows ain’t going nowhere.”

Heck climbed off the wagon, and Bass and Choctaw dropped down from their horses.

“Bass, let me have the redhead off the trot line,” I said.

“That ain’t a good idea, Nat.”

“Leave his leg manacles on. Just take him off the main chain, let him out so me and him can talk.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Which one is he?”

I pointed out Red.

Bass pushed up his hat and gave me that dark, burning look he used on men who didn’t agree with him. I have to admit, that was some look. I tried not to let my knees buckle.

“I get a feeling that someday you and me are going to tussle, Nat.”

“Not unless I steal a pig.”

Bass grunted. He went around and unlocked the back of the wagon and unchained Red from the main chain and brought him out. He pushed him to me. Red’s leg chains tangled him up, and he fell. I got him under the arm and pulled him up.

Bass locked the back of the wagon.

“You got as long as it takes us to have a cup of coffee in the courthouse.”

“Have two cups,” I said.

Bass did that grunting thing again, went up the steps of the courthouse and inside with the other two. I led Red over to the courthouse porch, and we sat on the edge of it.

“How you been, Nat?”

“Just happy as a duck in water. What the hell, Red? What are you doing? I got a letter from Bronco Bob. He said you’d gone wrong and thrown in with Ruggert. You know what he did to me?”

Red hung his head. “I feel deeply sorrowful about it, Nat. I do. It’s the whiskey. I got on it, and then I got to liking the guns and the thrill, and next thing I know I’m with Ruggert, and…I wish I could explain it better.”