Christian Writing Contest

Confident Christianity is proud to present the 2009

Dorothy Sayer’s Award

to

Kimberly Hanson

Waikoloa, HI

Second Place

(category: High School)

Bio:  The first time I was inspired to seriously write a story was in the 6th grade when I found out my younger brother was going to be writing a novel for school. Little did I know that upon starting to write that story, I had embarked on a journey that would open a new world to me as I slowly realized that I loved the art of writing.

Each time I created a new twist in a story I had a thrill, and soon all I wanted to do was write stories with captivating plots while incorporating morals throughout the excitement. As I continued to write, I found that through writing I could glorify God and therefore unite two of my passions together into one ultimate blaze of fulfillment.

I hope to write worthwhile stories for the rest of my life, but I give God the glory for any fiber of talent in my being, knowing that it was all woven together by Him. Thank you, Jesus.

To contact Kimberly Hanson you may request her contact information through the contest administrators by sending an email to director@athanatosministries.org.

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Way Out West

by Kimberly Hanson

Copyright 2009, All Rights Reserved

A burly, coarse looking man sat at his large wooden table eagerly reading through a thick letter. His interest increased as he flipped through the pages with a flicker in his dark eye; his wife, who stood in the background, seemed apparently curious as well, her glance often falling upon him. She busied herself with dishes as her husband came to the closing of the last filled sheet.

Slapping down the paper with a satisfied air, Rodger Hemmingway grinned to his wife.

“Now are you gonna tell me what Anne said or just look at me so?” Betsey asked, turning to him with a provoked countenance.

“Ah, yes, dear, I’ll tell ya; don’t ya be angry at me now. Anne and Sam are makin’ the journey from the east. They expect to be here round a few weeks.” Rodger smiled.

“They’re coming to Bern Town?” Betsey cried, dropping a dish in her astonishment.

“Ay, Bern Town fo’ sure. Anne says they can’t help wantin to settle here after what we’ve told her bout it. And she says she’s hopin to live near some family, and as we’s the closest family they have in these parts, they’re comin here—out to Bern Town.”

“I say, won’t that be grand!”

Rodger only nodded in agreement as he gathered up the sheets of the letter. Carefully folding them up, he placed them in a small drawer in the only desk they had in their house.

After having moved out west five years ago, Rodger and his wife had experienced severely hard times. They had made their livelihood off of growing corn and wheat, which had only brought in enough money to survive for his family of four. His two daughters Elizabeth and Patricia had known hard work and suffering despite their young age, for their father needed them to work, and work they did. Both parent’s hearts were sore with the suffering they could have endured very well on their own, but having to see their own children have to bear with poverty was the ultimate punishment.

“But, Rodger, when whas that letter written?” Betsey asked suddenly.

“D’say bout three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks? And they’ve been travelin for a few already, I s’pose?”
“Ay, dear,”

“Then they should be here sooner then they say—been travelin for many, many weeks probably! We’ll have them at our doorstep in less then a fortnight if I donno any better.” She said, smiling to her husband as wrinkles formed around her mouth and eyes. Her careworn face and sunburned skin evidence of all of the long hours of toil and labor she had spent outdoors.

“You’re almost always right, dear, and I don’t doubt yor word.”

Rodger waited eagerly for his sister Anne’s arrival along with her husband and three children, Anne having been his greatest companion through his hard youth. His life as a child had been as hard as his life in the west, if not harder, for they had been a poor, large family who had had to resort to crime for most of their food. Rodger was not proud of his past, however, and had come to know the Good Lord when he grew older, which had resorted in his decision to move out west with his new family. Unsure of his dear sister’s future, Rodger had left only to hear the news that she was married to an honest man and was out of danger from dying of the grueling life she had once known.

Anne’s husband Sam was not a rich man, though, and was apt to wish to explore the west and all of its mysteries. Anne could have not objection and they had started off in a state of indefiniteness.

Through all of this, Rodger had been more delighted then he dared show, and kept his secret-joy to himself for his own pleasure and excitement.

Nevertheless, a month passed with no sign of Anne, though a large bundle had arrived in their place.

It was a heavy wooden box, sealed tightly as if to ensure that nobody, including himself, could get at it. The only way Rodger was able to open it was with a sledge hammer. He shattered the wood into splinters and after removing a few bundles of blankets beheld seven golden nuggets, each heavy and brilliant.

“Betsy! Betsy! Darlin! Come here!” Rodger hollered from outside.

His wife came running out of the small house, breathless; her face flushed and fearful.

“Oh! What’s ‘appened? Are ye hurt?” She cried uneasily as she ran down the steps and rushed to his side.

“No, but look ye here! Look at what Anne’s sent us!” He cried, holding up a few of the nuggets in amazement.

“Is it what I see? No! Yes? Oh! Can it be true?” She exclaimed in disbelief.

“If you see th’ same thin I do, it must be—!”

“Gold!” Betsey whispered, apprehensive that anyone else might hear.

“Gold, indeed, my dear. I wouldn’t a believed it unless I’d see’d it and here she is!”

“But, now, what’s Anne a’thinkin sendin’ us such thins? Where on earth did they find it?” Betsey asked, digging through the wood impatiently and flinging blankets into the air, hoping to find some sort of explanation.

“We ha’ better bring this all inside before someone sees us. If anyone finds out bout this problems could come up.” Rodger said, gathering the blankets his wife had strewn about, wrapping the gold nuggets in them and staring suspiciously about the expanse of land.

“Yor right, dear,” Betsey gasped, trying to cover up their tracks by kicking the bit of wood that remained from the box into a corner and running around like a wild woman, as if she had lost her sanity.

“Betsy, go into th’ house ’fore you start goin out o’ yor wits an’ take the blankets with ya.” Rodger ordered, a bit worried for her.

She obeyed quickly and ran into the house only to be accosted by her two daughters who were excited to find out what Aunt Anne had sent. Betsey was so mortified by them in her agitation that she ordered them to go to their rooms and stay in there! Elizabeth and Patricia, so unused to their mother being taken into fits, obeyed her anxiously.

“What’s goin on in here that yor yellin at the girls so? I could right hear ya from outside.” Rodger exclaimed, entering the house.

“But we can’t let ’em see what we’ve got! They’ll go tellin’ it to everyone in town!” Betsey defended, still crazed by shock.

“Sit ye down and don’t glance at the gold if it’s gonna make you so.” Rodger chided, as if his wife were a child “Now, I’ve found a letter ’mong the trash—”

“A letter!”

“A letter and I’ll read it to ya ta calm ye for you seem right mad! Listen.

‘My Dear Rodger and Betsey,

Providence has sent Sam and me a fortune. While passin’ through Missouri we came upon an old man and his wife who were also traveling to the west. While we traveled with em they became ill with the fever and begged us to help them on their way back to the Carolina’s. Sam didn’t want to, for it would delay us more then we liked, but they offered to pay us such a deal o’ money that we coudn’t deny em. After aidin’ em home, we couldn’t believe all of the thins they gave us, including the nuggets we’ve sent you. Sam said it would be wiser to send you some o’ it ‘cause if people found out that we had such a fortune they’d surely be after us and our family. We have enclosed seven golden nuggets and hope you will keep them safe. Don’t you nor Betsey tell anyone that you ’ave them, for it could mean a deal o’ trouble for all o’ us, but Sam has devised a plan so wait till we arrive. Until then.

Yours truly, Anne’

There now, Betsey, that’s the plan.”

“It sounds sensible.” She answered softly, having gained back all of her senses and comprehending the whole of the letter.

They both agreed to hide the gold in a deep hole in the middle of their barn where they hoped nobody would find it.

After a few more weeks another letter arrived from Anne who said they were near Bern Town and expected to arrive soon. Rodger was elated and decided to take a day to go into town and gather some things.

“Good mornin’, Sheriff,” Rodger bowed as he rode along in his small buggy.

“An’ ta ya, Mr. Hemmin’way,” The Sheriff nodded.

Rodger stopped his horse and tied him up as he leapt out of his buggy.

“He’s been moppin’ ‘bout town nearin’ a week I’d sa’” Mr. Walker observed, nodding towards a small shed where a dirty young man sat.

“Who’s the boy?” Rodger asked, joining the conversation.

“Nobody knaws. He just wandered inta town—never talks to nobody.” Mr. Walker replied.

“You keepin’ an eye on him, Sheriff?” Mr. Davis asked darkly.

“Ay, Mr. Davis, there ain’t notin’ to worry ‘bout. He don’t want na harm.” Sheriff said.

“How d’ ye knaw? Them tramps is always causin’ trouble round these parts.” Mr. Davis frowned.

“Well, I’ll keep a’ eye on him; donna ya worry.” Sheriff smiled, amused.

Rodger bought all of his items, and after glancing at the men, he walked over to the tramp that seemed dozing off with his hat over his eyes.

“Son,” Rodger said, stepping towards him.

The boy made no response.

“Eh, son, ya awake?”

“Huh?” The boy jerked, pulling his hat from his dusty face and starting up in fright.

“No need ta be afraid. I just wanna speak ta ya.” Rodger said.

“What’s it?” The boy asked, standing up and dusting himself off.

“Ya ’ave a place to stay?”

“Reckon not,”

“When’s the last time ya had a good meal?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever had one, dependin’ on what ya calls a good meal.” He said, looking at him incredulously.

“Then ye’ll have no objection to havin’ one? You look right starved and my wife’ll be happy to cook up a hardy meal for ya.”

“Uh…”

“My buggy’s right there and my home not far. Come along.” Rodger said, plodding over to his buggy while smirking at his stunned comrades. The utter thought that he should invite such a dangerous guest to his house was insane.

While this went on the boy had no option but to snatch up his sack and follow.

As Rodger walked past, Mr. Davis gripped his arm and whispered menacingly, “Ya donno what yor doin invitin’ a tramp ta yor house.”

Rodger only nodded to them and started off with boy by his side. When they arrived home both Elizabeth and Patricia eyed the young man curiously. It was the first time their father had ever brought home a stranger.

The boy hopped out of the carriage and took out his sack, glancing around.

“What’s yor name, son?” Rodger asked as he put the buggy away.

“Jimmy,” He answered, aiding Rodger.

“What ar’ ya doin’ wanderin’ around a small town like this for?” Rodger asked bluntly.

“Just passin’ thro’. I’ll be leavin’ soon.”

“Where ta?”

“Donno, but I’ll be leavin’”

“That’s rather unusual for a boy o’ yor age, travelin’ round so. What’s yer age?”

“I’d say round sixteen—I think.”

“How’d ya get to not knowin’ yor own age?”

“Never kep’ track, that’s all.” Jimmy said defensively.

Rodger only nodded and walked out of the barn and towards the house.

Betsey had seen the unusual visitor from the window and eyed Rodger inquisitively. He only answered with a smile as he brought the guest in.

“This here’s Jimmy, dear. I’ve invited him for dinner.” Rodger said.

Betsey acknowledged Jimmy and then turned towards Rodger, expecting more.

“Where’re ya from, Jimmy?” Betsey asked after a long pause.

“No where parti’larly. I travel ’round.”

“Well, yor welcome to have supper with us. I’m preparin’ it now.” Betsey said, turning back to the kitchen.

“Thank ye, mum,” Jimmy said, also turning around and going towards the door. Rodger followed him, and soon found himself in the barn as he watched Jimmy settle down on the haystack and begin getting back into the same posture he had found him—the first preparation being to put his hat over his face.

Rodger made no comment and went back to the house slowly.

“What ar’ ya doin, Rodger, invitin’ a boy here fo’ supper when ya know we’re expectin’ Anne here any day now.” Betsey scolded once he was back.

“Well, now, I noticed he was on th’ street and so forlorn lookin’—I couldn’t just leave ’im there wi’ all the town being suspicious of him.”

“Yes ya could’ve.”

“There now, he’ll only be here fo’ supper and perhaps spend a night in th’ barn. Besides, dear, he said he was passin’ through.”

“Have yor way of it, Rodger, but I am awful uneasy ‘bout it. Perhaps people’ve a reason for being suspicious o’ him? And ya know wat we keep in th’ barn and wat if he were ta find it? Keep a sharp eye on him, and pray he don’t find that treasure.” Betsey said, her eyes beginning to flash and her hands to work faster.

“Perhaps I’d better tell ’im not to stay.” Rodger suggested.

“No, that would not be good—invitin’ him one moment and gettin’ rid o’ him th’ other—no, it wouldn’t be proper. One night in the barn and then he must go.”

They had a silent dinner that night, all watching in amazement as Jimmy ate his meal. He swallowed up everything with startling speed and with no impediments such as manners to block his way. The food was neither elegant nor plentiful, but potatoes and a few vegetables was enough to gratify they tramp, and he thanked them in a profusion of words before going back to the barn for the night.

The next morning Jimmy was up early, his hair filled with twigs and a piece of straw balancing in his mouth as he slowly chewed at it. Spotting Rodger on the veranda, he treaded over to him.

“Yor up mighty early. It’s not a quarter past four.” The stout farmer said, staring at the tramp with his steady black eyes.

“Yes, weel, my afternoon naps help me ta wake up early.” Jimmy said, kicking at the ground aimlessly. Lifting his downcast face Jimmy stuffed his hands in his pockets and straightened his back. “I’ll be leavin’ today right afta breakfast.”

“I see. If ye don’t mind me askin’ where are ye goin’?” Rodger asked.

“I wanna make my way back east. Can’t stand the west no longer.”

“That’s a long journey.” Rodger said, surprised at the young boy’s ridiculous answer. He didn’t look like he could possibly pay his way there, and Rodger, tightening up his fists and clenching his jaw in fear, hoped he hadn’t discovered the gold, which would surely cover all expenses and still leave him a fortune afterwards.

“I want ta make me way back ta th’ cities an’ work in an office or somethin’.” Jimmy said, a bit embarrassed at his answer, for why would a tramp like him want to work in an office—it didn’t seem to suit at all.

Rodger made no answer but only stood there for a while, his mind racing as he thought of a way to find out whether Jimmy had found the gold or whether what he was saying was simply a fancy or, possibly, a lie. Turning to go into the house, Rodger made an unintelligible comment about Betsey cooking and ran into his room, almost knocking the hinges off the door, he was so clumsy and overcome.

He ran into Betsey, who was making the bed, and exclaimed, “Betsey, oh, dear, ya was right! He’s done and found the gold an’ wat am I to do?!” He cried, pulling at his hair in agony.

“Found it? Oh, but how do ya knaw? Is he gawn? Has he taken and run?!” Betsey sobbed, tears already filling her eyes.

“Hush, dear, no, he’s not gawn—he’s in the house! Talk softly. But, now, ye must get ’im away so that I can search for ware he’s hid it—per’aps he’s hid it in that sack he’s been carrin’ round. Come now, let’s make a plan.” Rodger said, eagerly sitting down in a large rocking chair and beginning to sway fiercely.

After viciously rocking for a few minutes he and Betsey decided that she would make breakfast and while they ate she would beg Jimmy to come with her and the girls to the fields where they expected to find wild strawberries, saying that they needed help getting across the river. It was the best plan they could devise in the short time they had, and, after composing themselves, both came out of their room.

Jimmy was instantly ready for breakfast and ate it with as much ferocity as he had eaten his dinner the previous night.

After speaking to each other with their eyes Betsey finally stuttered out her question.

“Pick strawberries?” Jimmy asked, his face revealing his amazement at such an incredible question.

“Yes; I know it’s rather a queer question, but we’d need yor help crossin’ th’ river an’ then getttin’ back home.” Betsey said, attempting with all her strength to not seem desperate.

“An’ I could save a days work ‘cause usually I go out wi’ ’em. A day’s work is worth a lot fo’ us farmers, and I’d be mighty grateful to ya.” Rodger said.

Jimmy looked at his empty plate and then at Betsey and Rodger. “I s’ppose it’s th’ least I culd do for ye for th’ meals ye’ve given me.” He said, standing up.

“Thank ye,” Betsey said, trying to suppress her joy.

The girls soon awoke afterwards and after eating, the four of them went off to the fields, each carrying a basket on one arm with Jimmy trailing behind them awkwardly.

It took every bit of self control for Rodger to not run into the barn once they were a few yards away, but, making sure they were only specks in the distance before he attempted it, Rodger slowly made his way into the barn. After searching around the haystack he found Jimmy’s brown sack.

Grabbing it eagerly, he almost ripped it open, flinging the contents all around him. The first thing that he saw was a Bible, which he stared at in wonder, but tossing it aside, he snatched up a few pieces of jewelry. They looked valuable. One was a gold chain with diamonds, another was a golden locket, not as valuable looking, and the third was a golden ring with a large blue gem. After gathering these in a small pile his eyes caught sight of a golden nugget which had been flung to his side. He seized it and recognized that it was identical in size to his own; his heart sank, and he now knew his suspicions that Jimmy had found the gold were correct.

Sighing and dropping the gold, Rodger realized that he would have to inform the Sheriff about the gold he had. And once the Sheriff found out about gold, there was no way of preventing the rest of the town from hearing about it, which would mean possible danger for his family seeing that many of the farmers around him were going though as many hardships as he was, and some would likely resort to stealing and possibly worse crimes to get out of poverty.

Feeling the full misfortune of this, Rodger gathered up all of the articles from Jimmy’s sack and mused over them, picking up each item and examining it scrupulously. He flipped through the pages of the Bible and interestingly found them well worn and crumpled from constant use. Surprised at this, he opened it up to the front, hoping to find some sort of name. But the name he found was not the one he had expected.

Reeling back in horror, Rodger dropped the Bible, petrified and shaken. “How? Oh, how is it possible?” he cried, instantly picking the Bible back up and running through the pages. He soon recognized a neat, familiar handwriting trickled throughout the leaves. Returning to the front page, he re-read the same name over and over again, wondering how it was possible. “Anne Walters” was written in a careful hand in dark, definite ink, and no matter how he rubbed his eyes and no matter how many times he chafed at the letters of her name, wondering if they would disappear, the words never vanished and his eyes never failed him.

Becoming aware of something, Rodger began examining each article of jewelry again. The ring was not familiar to him, nor the diamond necklace, but, opening the golden locket he found a picture of a man with dark hair and a comical smile: it must be Sam. Rodger had received a picture of Anne and Sam taken on their wedding day, and the face of the young man in that picture had a striking resemblance to the more aged features of this older, more matured Sam. Putting the locket in his pocket and keeping the Bible tight in his hand, Rodger walked to the center of the barn and began digging in the area where he had hid the gold.

If one gold nugget was missing he would know that Jimmy had taken it—but if they all still remained in the safe confinement of the ground it meant that Jimmy had attained it from another source—from his sister Anne. But, why would he also have her Bible and locket? Rodger was left in bewilderment as he dug away the earth and reached the box filled with nuggets.

Opening it, he found all seven nuggets securely hidden in the box.

Attempting to collect his thoughts, Roger promptly re-buried the treasure, relieved that Jimmy had not found them, but still in a state of perplexity, for how could Jimmy have stolen the golden nugget from Anne?

After sufficiently covering his own treasure Rodger put Jimmy’s things back in the sack, but he kept the Bible and locket. Just as Rodger had done this a hurrying of hoofs was heard approaching and Rodger, panicking, threw down the sack and hid the items under the hay. After considering for a moment, he dove into the hay, the agitation of the moment overtaking him.

“Rodger!” A loud, breathless man called from outside. Banging was heard, as the person rapped loudly on the front door. “Rodger? Betsey? Anyone home?”

After a few more yells Rodger was able to sufficiently recognize the voice of the Sheriff. Slowly crawling out of the hay he peeked through a knot hole and saw that it was the Sheriff. Considering it safe, Rodger answered.

“Yes, John, I can hear ya. Wat’s taken ye over so?” Rodger asked, stalking out of the barn without realizing that he still had hay poking out from his hair and clothes.

However, the Sheriff seemed not to notice it either; he ran up to Rodger wildly, his face contorted in pain and pity.

“I’s gotten a letter fro’ the Sheriff o’ Orville. It’s told me dat—weel, ye read it yorself—” He said, handing him an envelope.

Rodger received in uncertainly and tentatively opened the already-broken seal. The contents read:

To the Sheriff John Martin of Bern Town:

I have recently been informed that a Mr. Sam and Anne Walters along with their three children have been robbed and murdered by a group of bandits on their way to Bern Town. A common group of bandits have been roaming around this area, pillaging a few farmers and many travelers of all they have. In some cases the victims survive. I’m sorry to say that in this case the victims were not as fortunate. I have heard that the Walter’s had relatives in Bern Town and therefore am dispatching a letter to you directly.

From, Sheriff Tom of Orville

After running through the contents a few times Rodger folded up the letter, his features twitching uncontrollably. Holding the letter in his trembling hands Rodger stammered if he might keep it, which the Sheriff abruptly said yes to. Rodger put the letter in his pocket as his cheeks turned an ashy gray and his eyes filled overflowing with tears.

“I’m so sorry, Rodger, for yor sister and innocent family. My apologies to you an’ yor wife, who I’m sure will grieve. I will leave ya to tell ‘em.” The Sheriff said, going back to his horse and slowly saddling the sturdy animal.

“John, wait!” Rodger said suddenly, running up to him and grabbing him by the arm. “What if I told ya I knaw one of th’ bandits who did this to my sister and her family?” He cried, attempting to hold back his tears and steady his quivering chin.

“How can ye knaw one? What do ya mean, Rodger?” Sheriff cried, jumping off his horse.

“It’s that boy I brought fro’ th’ town—Jimmy’s his name and I found in his sack a few thins which I’m sure belong to my sister. Her Bible and her locket. I tell ye, he’s one o’ them murderers!” Rodger cried fiercely, curbing his language from what he wished to call Jimmy.

After showing the Sheriff all of his evidence the Sheriff had no other option but to believe Rodger and all that he said. They decided to wait until his wife and daughters came home with Jimmy and then unexpectedly turn on him and tie him up to bring to the jail until he had a trial.

After waiting most of the morning and afternoon in suspense, the forms of his wife and children were seen in the distance. Rodger warned the Sheriff and they both got ready for their covert attack. They both waited in the house, the Sheriff behind the door with rope ready to tie Jimmy up when he entered while Rodger secured a gun in case of emergency.

Steps were heard coming towards the house and soon the door was thrown open and Betsey entered with her two daughters trailing close behind her. Rodger and the Sheriff waited for Jimmy expectedly, but after a few moments his form was still not seen enter.

“Where’s Jimmy?” Rodger whispered to his wife.

“Jimmy—he left us.” Betsey faltered, putting down a nice basketful of strawberries on the table with a shaky hand.

“Left you?!” Rodger yelled wildly, grabbing Betsey by the arms and shaking her.

“Oh, dear! I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t make ’im stay ’cause he said he was needin’ to go an’ wouldn’t be persuaded! I really did try, dear, I did!” Betsey sobbed, turning her head away.

“Why’d he leave ya? Tell me, where’d he go?” Rodger cried, still having an iron grip on her arms and he was about to violently shake her again when the Sheriff came from behind the door and demanded that Rodger loosen his grip.

Rodger pushed her away and slammed his arm on the countertop, his face red as the devil. His daughters both stood in fright, for they had never seen their father in such a passion. When the Sheriff was about to hint for the girls to leave he found that both of them had already retreated into the depths of their room, crying in distress.

“Now, Rodger, gain a’hold o’ yorself an’ don’t be hurtin’ no one. We’ll find that boy an’ ya can count on it.” The Sheriff said, throwing down the rope in defeat and thumping into a chair next to Betsey, who was still sobbing in grief.

“Now, Betsey, ya need to tell us whare dat boy went. Did he tell ye?” The Sheriff asked, trying to sound soothing, but his loud voice and usually rough mien didn’t permit him to sound conciliatory.

“I don’t knaw—all he said whas he needed t’ go.” Betsey wept.

“Compose yorself and we’ll talk more—but not till ye stop yor cryin’.”

After a few moments the Sheriff went on. “What were ya’ll talkin’ about ’fore he left?”

“He—” Betsey stopped for a moment and thought. “Well, he asked me wat my name was.”

“Yor name?”

“Yes, and I said it was Mrs. Betsey Hemmin’way.”

“An’ what did he say after dat?”

“Nothing—he sorta store at me an’ then said he needed to leave—I didn’t knaw why. I had na idea why he’d take off so for na reason—but he wouldn’t be persuaded an’ I couldn’t do nothin’” Betsey cried, her eyes filling again when she gave a glance at Rodger who was still fuming.

“What’s that sound?” Rodger said, starting.

“A horse!” Betsey said, springing out of her chair and bounding to the door.

“No! It might be Jimmy an’ we don’t want ya ta get hurt!” The Sheriff said, stopping Betsey.

Rodger quickly put the gun he had under his shirt and the Sheriff made sure he had his own gun in his holster.

“Go into yor bedroom, Betsey, and don’t ye come out unless yor called by me or Rodger. Ya hear?” The Sheriff asked, staring Betsey squarely in the eyes.

“Yes—but, oh, don’t get hurt, dear, oh, dear, don’t get hurt!” She cried, clinging to Rodger.

“Get ye in th’ room ’fore he comes.” Rodger said, giving Betsey a push and also thrusting a letter into her hand which he said to read.

Betsey didn’t need to be told thrice; she obeyed and went into her room hastily.

They both waited anxiously from indoors, each peering out the window, only the tops of their heads observable from outside.

“He don’t look so good.” Rodger said, seeing that the man approaching was riding his horse unstably.

“Weel, it’s fo’ sure dat darn tramp. Murderer! We’ll get ‘im.” The Sheriff said, gripping his gun and preparing for a fight.

“I don’t think we’ll need them guns; he looks ill. He’s bloody! Look, there’s a wound on his side and he’s pale as death. Per’aps it’s a trick—don’t move an’ we’ll soon find out.” Rodger advised.

They both examined Jimmy, who had reached the house; his head was buried in the animal’s mane, his whole form looking limp, while his chest heaved with exhaustion. After staying in that posture for a few minutes, he unexpectedly slid off the horse and hit the ground in a lifeless heap, not appearing to breathe or move.

“He’s dead.” Rodger whispered, his breath leaving him.

“Naw, I still think he’s pullin’ a trick. Wait a bit longer.” The Sheriff said, extremely apprehensive.

“I think he’s dead, John. Look, he hadn’t moved fo’ the past five minutes.” Rodger said, standing up and moving towards the door.

The Sheriff followed, his hand clutching his gun. They both walked slowly towards Jimmy, their guns now drawn and pointed. Being closer to him, they observed that he was breathing, though almost imperceptibly. They saw that a gun was fastened around Jimmy’s waist in a holster, causing them to grip their own guns tighter and walk more gingerly. Once they were close enough, Rodger abruptly snatched the gun out of Jimmy’s holster and threw it to the side, out of everyone’s reach.

“Mr. Hemmi’nway,” Jimmy wheezed, turning his head to face him; his eyes were dull and his face pallid as he suffered for breath.

“Jimmy, we’ve found ya out. We knaw what ya did.” Rodger said, putting his gun away and kneeling down beside him.

“How?” Jimmy said, so weak that he couldn’t show any emotion but pain.

“The items in yor sack told all. Now tell me wat ’appened to ya. How’d ya get shot?” Rodger asked, gazing at a large blood-soaked spot on his shirt. His clothes were ripped and soiled with dirt while blood was leaking from his lip and a black eye was setting in.

“I—” Jimmy attempted to speak but his strength gave way and his head sunk down limply. His chest still moved slowly, revealing that he had not yet left this world.

“Get ’im in th’ house and we’ll see wat we can do for ‘im.” The Sheriff said.

Rodger picked up the young boy’s lifeless form and carried him into the house. Although he pitied him, a hard hatred was still in Rodger’s heart through the knowledge that Jimmy had aided in the murder of his dear sister and her family.

Setting him on the table, Rodger called Betsey out of her room. When she came out her face seemed filled with a new heartache while her features showed pity. With a shriek, Betsey came to Jimmy’s side and examined his wound and face grievously. Sorrowfully, she said he would probably not live because the wound was so severe and he had lost so much blood that it was a hopeless case.

“Take ’im inta our room and I’ll try my best to nurse ’im, but I see no hope.” Betsey said, and as Rodger began to lift Jimmy up again Betsey laid her hand on Rodger’s arm and said softly, “I read the letter—”

But although Betsey had heard of Anne, she had never met her, and her grief could not be half the weight that Rodger held in his heart. Without responding to her words, Rodger took Jimmy into their room and when he came out he told Betsey at once to sit down and briefly revealed to her that Jimmy had been one of the bandits that had killed Anne.

Of course, Betsey could only be in disbelief and horror until the evidence was shown, the Bible and locket being undoubtedly strong evidence.

After this news Betsey sat in dismay for a few moments until she said, “I shall still nurse the guilty man, for Providence would not ’ave me be cruel and leave ’im in so much pain.”

“’Course ya should nurse ’im, but, as ye said, he won’t live a day.” The Sheriff sneered.

“Only God knows that, Sheriff,” Betsey said, getting some supplies ready for her work.

After a long night of nursing the invalid and trying to keep him from slipping into an everlasting sleep, Betsey awoke the next morning weak and tired from her constant post. Rodger camped in the living room, away from Jimmy. His anger against the young murderer was only intensified by the sleepless night, and although Rodger had not aided in nursing Jimmy, his strife against the boy had caused his head to ache through the night, not allowing his eyes to be closed in restful sleep for a moment.

“How is he?” Rodger asked the next morning when Betsey came out, looking tired and pale.

“Bad, but he’s talkin’ quite a bit. Askin’ for water once in a while.” She said, filling up a pitcher and going back into the bedroom.

Soon Elizabeth and Patricia awoke, both hungry and scared from the commotion of yesterday. Rodger told them they must stay outside that day and away from the house, making sure they didn’t disturb Jimmy. Too scared to be disobedient, after breakfast the girls obeyed their father and went far into the fields.

“I wish to talk to ’im.” Rodger said, coming into the room where Jimmy and his wife were.

“He can’t talk much, dear, an’ any type o’ talkin’ makes ’im weaker.” Betsey said, alarmed at her husband’s scowling face.

“He’ll talk,” Rodger said, grabbing a chair and seating himself next to Jimmy stoutly.

“I’ll try,” Jimmy said faintly, turning his colorless face towards Rodger. “I owe ye an explanation. I knaw my life is at it’s end so I’ll give ye my story, in th’ last few words I’ll ever speak.”

Rodger seemed to bristle at the thought of Jimmy speaking of Anne, but, composing himself, he waited for the youth to catch his breath.

“I was one o’ da bandits that pillaged yor sister. I was new in th’ gang and wasn’t prepared to kill no one—I only wanted some money to survive.” He continued after a few minutes. “We found out dat yor sister’s family had a lot o’ money. We attacked ’em on their ways to Orville and I was th’ one who made shore yor sister and chil’ren were held captive while they stole their goods.” Jimmy caught his breath and with effort carried on. “Yor sister whas kind, and only begged dat we didn’t hurt the chil’ren. They’d already killed her husband once we approached, ’cause he was shotin’ at us. They got all o’ th’ money an’ gold, but all th’ while yor sister was speakin’ to me o’ God an’ begging us ta be merc’ful. I decided as I watched ’er beggin’ and cryin’, dat I wouldn’t never do it again.” Wheezing desperately, Jimmy moaned from pain but perused his goal. “I never wanted ta hurt yor sister, but she grabbed my gun an’ began firin’ at us wen they said they was gonna kill th’ chil’ren. After dat, they fired at her and then, th’ poor kids, they killed ‘em fo’ no reason.” Jimmy said, turning his face away in anguish.

Rodger blew into a passion, leaping upon Jimmy and grabbing is collar ferociously, mercilessly shaking him. “How could ya!” He cried lividly.

“Oh, Rodger, stop! Stop! He’s gonna die soon and it’s no use. Don’t kill ’im, for then you’ll be no better than he is right now. God forgive ‘im!” Betsey said, upturning her face and weeping in silent prayer.

After Jimmy was released he took ten minutes to regain his bearings and breathe stably again. Finally, he continued, making no comment about Rodger’s treatment, “I left th’ bandits th’ next day, escapin’ wi’ a gold nugget. I also took yor sister’s Bible, fo’ she had talked ta me a good deal while I sat wi’ her and made me curious fo’ it.” Breathing deeply he carried on, “I haven’t told ye yet how I got shot. When we was robbin’ yor sister, we found out dat she’d given a good deal o’ gold ta her relative’s in Bern Town. We was gonna come here ta rob ya. I never thought o’ tryin’ ta save ya, but when I found out dat yor name was Hemmin’way and knew wat good folks ya was, I decided ta do somethin’. I went back ta Bern Town and wen I went there they was already here. I tried to convince ’em ta leave ya folks alone.” After this lengthy speech it took Jimmy nearly double the time to regain strength, leaving both Betsey and Rodger in suspense. “But they wouldn’t heed a word I spake, and soon got angry at me an’ turned on me, but I managed ta get a gun an’ shot back. We had a battle of it, but I won, fo’ I’m a good shot.” Jimmy attempted to smile, but was too weak. “I did it for yor family, sir, fo’ yor own chil’ren, mum, dat they might not ’ave da same fate as those other poor innocents. I wish I never did it, and I wanted to return to the east where I might start over—but now I’m to die, but I die a Christian, for the Good Book which was yor sisters.” Jimmy said, his voice leaving him. His death was not imminent. Jimmy was able to look into Betsey’s eyes and thank her without words for her tedious care. Looking up at the ceiling, he wheezed out a few painful breaths, his face a grimace of agony. He moaned in anguish, until, suddenly, he stopped and, his features relaxing, his spirit was caught up into the air and he glided off to eternal happiness.

“Lord, is wat he has spoken true?” Betsey cried, her face streaming with tears as she fell on her knees in fervent prayer.

“Awful murderer! The worst o’ sinners and the most wicked o’ people, yor goin’ to another place—not to peace.” Rodger said ruthlessly, noticing that Jimmy had died.

“Rodger, no, no don’t ye speak so. God only knaws such thins. Oh, how can ya say such thins, dear? Forgive—I thought ya had already forgiven ’im?” Betsey said, still crying.

“Forgive? What right has he ta be forgiven? He murdered Anne and th’ rest o’ em.”

“He saved our family family from death and all ya show is bitterness.”

“Killin’ someone and then savin’ us don’t make him no better. He’s a murderer and there ain’t no other word I’ll call him.”

“If wat he said whas true he is a Christian.”

“Stop justfyin’ ’im, Betsey, or I’ll start wonderin’ wat’s gotten into yor soft head!” Rodger yelled, infuriated.

“If ya don’t forgive him wat can I think o’ ya? Yor a strong Christian man, Rodger, and should forgive—you ain’t no better then that murderer if ya don’t forgive ’im. God wouldn’t ’ave ya bein’ bitter.”

“How do ye expect me to forgive that boy after wat he did?”

“The same way Jesus forgave ya for all th’ wrong thins we’ve all done.”

Rodger stomped out of the room, not able to bear the sight of Jimmy’s lifeless, upturned face. Betsey followed him out, and as they both paced around the room their eyes fell simultaneously on a piece of evidence lying in front of them—Anne’s Bible.

The Sheriff soon came to the house and told them that a group of bandits had been found—all of them were dead, however a great deal of gold was found among their belongings, all of which would be forfeited to Rodger and Betsey once it was proven that it had been stolen from his murdered sister and family, for it was the same group of bandits Jimmy had killed and whom had robbed Anne.

In shock at the genuine truth of Jimmy’s words, they couldn’t believe that they had been truly saved and that a boy had given his life for their family after committing such an unpardonable sin against another. Why they had been spared they knew not, but forgiveness had been taught and blessings were now given in an abundance of gold and other riches which had once belonged to Anne.

Tags: Christian Western, Dorothy Sayers
Filed under: High School Award Winners