Dance with the Deacon

"What look?" she demanded.

I was saved the effort of attempting to explain the unexplainable by the arrival of Rebecca again. "Now they want more jam." The young woman smiled at me as she went into the pantry.

"Well, I need to be moving on. I will be having a small service to rededicate the church Sunday do try to come." I turned quickly before Laura could object.

I had no idea where I was headed as I pulled the reins forcing the horse back into the down town. During the short ride I decided to try the general store at the flats. The flats was an easy area to find. It was no more than a meadow half a mile from town. In the meadow were about fifty or so tent houses. I had no idea what they were really called. The dwellings were no more than flimsy wooden walls with a tent top. My guess was that the flimsy walls were the miner's efforts to make the tents taller therefore more livable. It also created a bit more stable dwelling. The canvas nailed to the wooden walls would be a bit more stable during the winter winds than would the tent alone. I took one look at the tents sitting less than ten feet apart and knew that neither I, nor my money would be safe or happy in the tent city.

"So, this is where the miners with families live?" I asked it of the man behind the packing case counter inside the frame and tent building used as the general store.

"It is where most of them live preacher. What can I do for you?" He seemed more curious than customer service oriented.

"They tell me in town that you can help me find a place to live?" I asked it purely in passing as I had no intention of living in the flats.

"To tell you the truth Preacher we are all filled up here." I noticed he did not meet my eyes as he spoke. The man was a very poor liar. For his sake I hoped he did not play poker.

"Just as well. Tell me though who builds the tent houses out here?"

"Mostly the miners do it themselves. It ain't very hard." He was trying to get rid of me. It just wasn't going to work. At least not until I got ready to go.

"Really, how does one go about it?" I asked it smiling as though I didn't know he was in a hurry for me to leave. It was pretty obvious he feared reprisals from Deville.

"Well you just sink a few posts in the ground then nail a few boards to it. The canvas just hangs over it."

"If that is all there is to it, I guess I can build my own place." I could tell by the light in his eyes that the thought appealed to him. If I did that he would have nothing to do with it.

"Yes you can. I suppose you can read?" It was nothing more than a passing remark since he obviously wasn't trying to insult me. Nonetheless I was insulted and I showed it.

"Of course I can read. Can you?" The remark didn't seem to bother him since he still saw me as a preacher.

"What I mean preacher is I got a set of instructions for building one of these things. I wrote it out for the miners. Some of their wives can read them the instructions as they go along. I can sell you all the lumber and canvas for it. I can even loan you the tools for a fee of course."

"Of course," I agreed. He still didn't notice my lack of religious piety. "So how much for this little package?"

"Depends on the size house you want. usually the house materials for a ten by ten place sell for ten dollars. Since you are a preacher I won't charge for the tool rental." He smiled as though it was some kind of deal.

I knew the lumber would come from some poor devil up on the mountain cutting boards from trees. The cost to the merchant would be almost nothing. The canvas might be a little expensive because of the shipping. I expected it came from ships traveling around the Cape so it might be a bit expensive unless their were mills in California which I doubted. Still it shouldn't be much. My guess was that the canvas would be in sheets just like my ground cloth. It would not be sewn into tent shapes.

The merchant handed me a sheet of paper. "Just follow these directions and come to me when you have it ready for the canvas. I will cut you off the pieces you need."

"We need to come to terms on the cost first. Ten dollars is outrageous."

"Preacher it is the going price for the materials. If you don't buy them some miner will be happy to pay it." He looked as though he were trying to dismiss me. I almost laughed at the small gentle man. It was time to give him an education.

"First of all friend, I am not a preacher. I am a deacon. A deacon does not abide by the same rules as a parson. Now you and I are going to come to terms on the price of these materials based not on what you can swindle from miners but for what you should sell them to an employee of God." It was crap but I liked the sound of it. "Now I want you to rethink the price of the materials." I gave him a look I hoped explained that he would reconsider. If he chose not to do so, he was going to be out of business. How seriously out of business depended on his answer.

He changed at least the way he addressed me. "Deacon are you threatening me?"

"I do God's work merchant. I do not have to threaten. I only have to warn. You will chose to do what is right by God or you won't. If you do not chose to do the right thing then God will punish you. I might well the instrument of that punishment." I loved the sound of that.

He lowered this eyes to the packing box then mumbled. "I can sell you the lumber at my cost two dollars. The canvas will cost you three dollars and fifty cents."

I placed two silver dollars on the counter. "Have the lumber delivered this morning. Have it dropped at the church I will show your driver where."

"Deacon,do you mean that church downtown?"

I nodded.

"That church belongs to Mr. Deville. He is not going to allow you to use the place, let alone alow you to build a house there."

Merchant, Mr. Deville has no say in the matter. The church belongs to God not to any man. Just have your man deliver the lumber there. I will show him where to drop it." I was almost out the door when I turned back. "Two more things don't forget to send the tools and tell Deville I will be expecting him."

I hadn't intended any of it. Something was moving me along. The something I was not sure of at all but it was there. An unseen hand possibly God's hand setting the pentence for my evil ways. The thought made me laugh out loud as I climbed back into the saddle. I am sure if the merchant saw me he was truly terrified. He had to picture me as a religious madman. Probably the worst kind of madman. The sun was well up when I arrived at the mud church. With it came the morning heat. The heat might not be oppressive but it would he noticeable.

I tied the horse to a hitch ring set on the low mud wall surrounding the church. I walked to a window with no glass. The shutter was cracked so I pulled it back to look inside. I found boxes and machinery stacked around here and there. The pews were piled against one wall. When set up right it might hold fifty people. There probably were not even rats in it at the time. There would be no food for them.

From looking inside the church I went around to the back where I found a large open space. The space appeared to be a kind of courtyard possibly used as a playground or maybe picnic area. Behind that space was an overgrown field. Not a single animal grazed in the space. I was frankly a little surprised. The grass was high in the field and totally going to waste it seemed. I decided to build my shack in the field. It might put off the confrontation but I doubted it. I expected to see Deville's men about any time.

Wilson's son arrived first. He was sent to deliver my gear, and of course to pick up the horse. "Hello son, how are things at home?" The kid was bright I give him that.

"They are not as tense now that you are gone." He smiled broadly. "Miss Edith sent you this. She said you might be needing some food about now." In addition to my gear he handed me a flour sack. Inside the sack were about a dozen biscuits.

"Will you please thank her for me. Also tell her and your dad that services at the church will be at ten A.M. Sunday. I would like to see you all here. Tell your dad we all share the same God."

"Deacon my dad don't think there will be any service Sunday. He said if you were foolish enough to continue you would be dead before Sunday."

"Then tell him to come to the funeral on Sunday." I actually managed a sick laugh.

"Deacon, I don't think you are going to be dead on Sunday." He said that as he swung back up on his horse. "I think I will be at church on Sunday." He rode away leaving me to decide what my next move would be.

I figured word would spread quickly. I thought about hand writing some flyers about church but decided everyone would know it all soon enough. I sat in the shade of the church porch as I awaited the lumber. I also found time to recover the Colt from my carpet bag. I hung it from my waist and tied the holster down. The Colt would give pause to any would be musclemen. I expected even more understanding when I took my coat off to work on the house. When I did that the hidden .36 pistol in the shoulder holster would be quite visible. One man with two guns was not exactly what one would expect to see on the back lot of a church.

The man who arrived on horseback was definitely not a delivery man. He was a messenger from Deville I decided. I stood to greet him. I wanted to give him a good look at the tied down Colt. Might as well send my own message. I chose not to speak as he sat on the horse looking down at me.

"I think we need to talk preacher." He looked at me with a bit of a smirk.

"Then talk friend." It was my turn to look at him with what I hoped was enough evil to end the conversation. Unfortunately it didn't.

"You are trespassing. I came to move you along." He suddenly looked like a man with business on his mind.

"I am about to do you a favor friend. It is the last one I will ever do you or any other man who comes here with evil intentions. First and foremost this is the house of God. It does not belong to anyone but God. I am on God's business so I am not trespassing. But then neither are you as all men are welcome in God's house." I had no idea where the words came from just as before they came from my mouth but were not my words.

"That is nice....." He tried to speak but I cut him off.

"That was just part of it. Now let me give you the other part. If you go for that hogleg you are wearing, I will shoot you dead. First of all you don't stand a chance I am much faster than you. Also that horse is going to move. Even if you are fast enough to get off a shot, it is going to go wild. I on the other hand promise you I will not miss. I do not want my first service here to be a funeral, but that friend is your choice."

He looked hard at me then smiled. "You a gun hand ain't you?"

"I am a Deacon in the service of God now. It is true I have killed men." I figured he might as well know what he was up against.

"Fair enough Deacon, next time I won't have this miserable animal under me. Then we shall see."

"I would invite you down friend to find out now, but I don't think God would care how I dispatch you. From that horse it is guaranteed you will be in hell before the clock strikes again."

"Oh I know Deacon. It is the reason I am going to show you my back."

"That is safe friend I am no back shooter."

"Never thought you was. Matter of fact Deacon when they come for you, and they will, don't look for me to be with them."

"You are a wise man my friend. Come to church on Sunday at ten. You can be my first conversion." Good God what had I just said.

"I think I will be in Silver City on Sunday. I had gotten pretty tired of this job anyway. Thanks for the offer though. Deacon, do you want to know about the others?"

"No thanks friend, what will be is already written." I said it with a friendly smile.

"Amen to that Deacon. Well it is a long ride to Silver City. Be seeing you again but not like this." He tipped his hat as he rode away. He headed back into town. I expected it was to get his gear."

I went back to dozing on the porch. The wagon pulled up a while later. The old almost crippled man helped me unload the lumber. He also helped me unload the tools I would need.

I began digging holes in the high grass before the sun was directly overhead. I began with the side wall that required only two posts. That wall had no openings. The post holes were fairly simple with the narrow spade. Once the hole was a couple of feet deep I set the post then packed the hole with clay. I then poured water in the hole before tamping as much mud as possible around the post. The firearms were mostly in the way as I worked but I dared not leave them on the ground. I expected more company at any moment.

The next visitor was the town marshall. He was about fifty pounds overweight and no gun hand that was for sure. I watched him walk up then shuffle his feet as he prepared to speak.

"What you planning to do Mister?" He asked it with as much authority as he could muster. It wasn't all that much.

"Well I am planning to build a house here."

"Well that is public land so you can homestead it if you want. Not good for much though. You planning to raise cattle on it."

"No Sheriff, I am planning to open that church." I pointed to the mud brick building as I spoke.

"I heard that. I am here to tell you that building there belongs to Mr. Deville. He don't want no church there."

"Would you bring me the deed to that church please."

"What?" The Marshall seemed confused.

"I want to see his deed to that building. I do not think he owns the building. You see sheriff there was no one with the authority to sell him that building."

"It is Marshall not Sheriff. I don't see what you are driving at."

"When that church was abandoned there was no one with the authority to sell the building to Deville. It therefore still belongs to the original owner, who by the way is God."

"Deville bought it from the county for taxes." The Marshall looked a little lost.

"No he didn't. Counties can not tax churches my friend. Deville just took the building like he took everything else. I am here to take it back Marshall."

"Well I don't know about no taxes. I know you can't open that church though." He was trying to be strong but he didn't have it in him.

"Well Marshall you work for Deville while I work for God. Now who do you think is going to prevail here." I had avoided showing him my evil nature up until that point. I planned it for my next move. I didn't have to do it.

"I am going to see the deed. When I do. I will be back."

"Marshall, you are welcome to attend the Sunday morning service. As a matter of fact I insist on it. Also when Deville can not produce the deed tell him to move his junk from God's house. He has defiled it too long already."

The town marshall left without a further word. I figured he would be back with a deed in about an hour. Or at least with orders to evict me. At that time we would be dancing again.After two hours I judged my progress. I figured it was going to take me a couple of days at least to finish the house.

The first couple showed up mid afternoon. "Howdy preacher," the middle aged man said as he extended his hand to me. His slightly younger wife smiled shyly.

"Afternoon neighbor, I am sorry to inform you I am not the preacher. I am but the one who comes to prepare a place for him. I am Deacon Burke." By that time I had his firm handshake.

"Well either way we are happy to see you. I came to see, if you could use a hand on the house here." The man had spread his arms to encompass the my pile of lumber.

"I can always use a hand neighbor. I expect all men need a hand now and then. And what would be your name brother?" Damn I thought, that religious talk comes way too easy.

"I am Amos Thorn and this is my wife Louise."

"Amos, I thank you for the offer and Louise it is nice to see you. Amos there is one thing, Deville will not take kindly to your helping me."

"Oh I am not going to help. I have a bad back Deacon. However, I have six men coming off a mine shift in about an hour. I think they could use a little extra work. With that many men it shouldn't be long till the house is finished."

"Then I take it you are a mine owner?" I asked it in a bit of wonder.

"Yes Deacon, I own the Lazy Susan one of the smaller mines. Deville owns the largest one. He is also the only one opposed to the church. The married miners need the church as much as the single ones need the saloon."

"Are you sure you want to help me? Deville still owns most everything here."

"It seems he don't own me or you Deacon. I can have you a crew here at three. You just make sure they get away by dark. Also make sure they do not get hurt working here."

"I can't promise you they won't hit their finger with a hammer, but I can promise you they will not be shot." I knew his concern.

"Deacon from the word going around I am damned sure you can. I will have the men here at three."

After he had gone I realized his wife had not spoken a single word. Even though he had promised I continued to work just as hard. Promises were not worth spit. If they showed up, then that was going to be something else all together. I had the post for the one side and the rear wall set when the crew showed up. The crew consisted of only four men but it was more than enough. Not only were the men in a wagon from the mine, they also brought their own tools.

Each of the miners was familiar with the construction of the tent houses since they either lived in one or had friends who did. Within an hour there were poles rising from the hard clay everywhere. The front wall had openings requiring more poles than the right side or the rear. The left side also had additional poles. I wasn't quite sure why but I didn't object since I had no idea.

The pole setting gave way quickly to the nailing of boards onto the poles. The attaching of the boards took a man nailing and a man on the inside holding the post solid. Still it went quickly. The wagon was dispatched for the canvas while the miners and I built the roof structure. It was no more than a series of poles lashed together.

The miners were a quiet crowd no doubt they were worn out from their days work in the mine. When I handed the miner the three dollars and fifty cents for the canvas he smiled. He knew something I didn't about the cost of the canvas. Since I was satisfied with the price I didn't pry.

We had the building ready for the canvas when it arrived. The men made short work of the cutting and installing of it. The final thing to do was the installation of a clay pot stove like the one the deputy had used in his shack. The window like opening in the right side was for the clay stove pipe. The man had brought a pile of clay from the store as well as the pot. He filled the hole around the pipe with it. The clay made the insulation for the stove pipe. It would prevent the pipe from burning the wood.

When the house was finished the men were sitting about the yard in the dying sunlight. They were resting when suddenly a wagon pulled up. From the wagon Amos Thorn's wife and two other women stepped down.

"Good Evening sister Thorn. What brings you back?" I could see from the baskets she and the other two women carried that they had brought food for the men. Presumably I was to be allowed to share.

"I thought we should at least feed the men who were courageous enough to stand up to Samuel Deville." It seemed she had very little use for Deville. I nodded before I turned to the men.

"Gentlemen it seems the ladies of the church have brought our dinner please come forward so that we may eat."

Everyone was standing about afraid to start filling their plates. I was about to reach for a plate when I remembered we should pray. "Ladies since it is your food would you bless it?" I am sure no man had ever asked a woman to say grace. "Would each of you say a few words please."