To All People - Part 1

 Good morning!

    I thought you all might enjoy reading the story that I turned into this year's Christmas play for church.

To All People

 

            The sun was just coming up and kissing the peaks of the western mountains with a soft halo of light. The cold morning air spoke of winter, and the faint breeze stirred a scent of pine and whispered of Christmas. Far up on the rocky mountain where towering trees and large rocks guarded a sheer drop into the valley below, a man appeared. He was silent and rugged like the mountains he lived in, and his face was kept warm by a shaggy beard while a hat was pulled down low over his head.

            For a minute he stood, his gaze sweeping the still dark valley that the sun hadn’t yet awakened, and seeming to take in every detail of the little town below him. Then he glanced up at the sky, and without a sound, he disappeared behind the rocks and trees.

 

            As the sun climbed higher, chasing away the last few stars and tinging the sky with pink and orange, gold and purple, the town of Western awoke. Who could sleep when Christmas Eve was the next day?

            The blacksmith, whistling as he strode across the street, lifted a hand in greeting to Sheriff Kassen and nodded to Mrs. Crawford and her daughter.

            “Good morning, Sheriff,” Mrs. Crawford said with a smile.

            “Mornin’, ma’am, Miss Kate. I reckon it will be a fine day today.”

            “It sure is looking that way with the beautiful sunrise. A perfect morning for almost Christmas.”

            Deputy Moreland, his rifle cradled in one arm and his wife’s hand resting on his other arm, joined them. “Morning, Sheriff. Ladies.” Deputy Moreland nodded his head.

            “Mrs. Crawford,” Mrs. Moreland said, “do you have some sugar still? I thought I’d bake some cookies since it’s almost Christmas.”

            Mrs. Crawford nodded. “I do. Kate and I were unpacking the last boxes yesterday. Would you like to get some now?”

            “Yes, I would.”

            As the ladies turned toward the general store, Mrs. Nelson with her baby in her arms, and Mrs. Stokes came down the street.

            “Oh, Mrs. Crawford!” Mrs. Stokes called, hurrying forward.

            Stopping, Mrs. Crawford, Kate, and Mrs. Moreland waited.

            “Good morning, Sheriff, Deputy Moreland,” Mrs. Stokes said quickly. “Mrs. Crawford, I need some buttons. Charlie has lost two off his shirt just this week. Boys are so hard on their clothes. I was hoping you would have something so that he could have a whole shirt for Christmas.”

            Mrs. Crawford looked thoughtful. “Well . . .”

            “Oh, Mama,” Kate broke in, “remember that bag of buttons I discovered under the counter last week? I’m sure there will be something in there.”

            “I had forgotten that. Mrs. Stokes, I’m sure we have some.” And Mrs. Crawford looked relieved. “Mrs. Nelson, how is Baby doing?”

            “He is fine.” Mrs. Nelson pulled back the blanket a little as the ladies gathered to look. “I just wish Husband was home.”

            “I know,” Mrs. Crawford said gently. “It is hard to celebrate Christmas with the men folk being gone. But they will be back with more supplies in only a few more weeks, I’m quite sure.”

            Still talking, the ladies wandered down the street toward the general store leaving Sheriff Kassen and his deputy together.

            “Well, Sheriff,” Deputy Moreland said, “I suppose it will be another slow day for us.”

            “I reckon.”

            The quiet of the morning was interrupted by an excited shout, and Charlie rushed up. “Sheriff! Sheriff!”

            “Charlie!” Mrs. Stokes exclaimed, as the ladies turned and quickly rejoined the two representatives of the law. “What is going on? What is wrong?”

            “Did you see a bear?” Mrs. Moreland asked with a smile.

            Charlie shook his head and gasped out, “A . . . giant! . . . From the . . . mountain!”

            “A giant?” Deputy Moreland echoed with raised eyebrows and a skeptical look.

            “Take a breath, Charlie,” Sheriff Kassen ordered. “Now, what exactly did you see?”

            Drawing a deep breath, Charlie let it out with a flood of words. “I saw the man of the mountain! He’s a giant, and he’s coming here!”

            “Are you making this up, Charlie?” Sheriff Kassen demanded sternly.

            “No, sir!”

            Before anyone else could say a word, Mrs. Fisher rushed up. “Sheriff, you’ll have to do something! I saw him, and he is a giant! I thought he was a bear at first, but he’s a man. At least I think he is. And he’s coming here!”

            “The mountain man?” Sheriff Kassen asked, reaching for his six-gun while his deputy shifted his rifle to his hands.

            Mrs. Fisher nodded, clinging to Mrs. Moreland.

            “Ladies, if you would clear the streets, we’ll handle things. Charlie, go along too.”

            “Come along to the store,” Mrs. Crawford offered and led the way.

            When the ladies had disappeared, Deputy Moreland turned to the sheriff, “Should we get Kockenbrock to join us?”

            “What for?”

            “Well–”

            There was no time for Deputy Moreland to finish his thought, for just then a large person clad in the garb of a man used to living alone in the mountains, and with a bushy beard and shaggy hair, appeared. He stopped short when he saw Sheriff Kassen and his deputy, but he didn’t speak.

            There was a long silence as the three men seemed to size each other up.

            A cheerful whistle broke the silence and Mr. Kockenbrock strolled casually up. “Need some water. Forgot to get some this morning.” He looked over at the stranger. “Mornin’. Have you tried Mrs. Fisher’s flapjacks?” Without waiting for an answer, the absentminded blacksmith continued on.

            The interruption seemed to rouse the sheriff, for he demanded, “What’s your name? And what brings you to our town?”

            “Tiny. Christmas.” The stranger’s words were rather quiet.

            “You came here for Christmas?” Sheriff Kassen questioned.

            The man gave a slight nod but said nothing.

            “Humph,” the sheriff grunted as he stared at the giant of a man. “Where are you from?”

            “Up yonder,” and the man jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

            “You come alone?”

            “Yep.”

            Sheriff Kassen took a few steps closer and stared up into the man’s face. “Well now, you listen to me. I want no trouble from you, ya hear me? You come into my town, you got to behave yerself. Understand?”

            The man gave a short nod and then walked past the lawmen and continued down the road, pausing now and then to peer at a sign above a building or gaze into a shop window.

            Sheriff Kassen frowned after him. “I don’t like this, Moreland. I don’t like this one bit.”

            “Do you know anything about him, Sheriff?”

            “No. But I aim to find out what he’s up to.”

            “He said he came down for Christmas.”

            The sheriff grunted. “A likely story. Keep an eye on him, Deputy.”

            “Sure thing. But where are you going, Sheriff?”

            After a quick glance around, the sheriff said, “I reckon I’ll jest take a look from where he came from. Don’t want to be surprised if’n he’s got friends.” With a firm slap on his holstered gun, Sheriff Kassen hurried off in the direction the mountain man had come from.

            Alone, Deputy Moreland shook his head. “I wonder what’s going to happen.” With a sigh, he cradled his rifle again and set off after the strange man from the mountains.

 

*

 

            Inside the general store, the ladies were gathered near the window hoping, yet dreading, to catch a glimpse of the stranger Charlie and Mrs. Fisher had seen.

            “I’ve heard of the man in the mountains before,” Mrs. Moreland remarked. “Some say he’s got a gold mine up there, but he doesn’t mine it and shoots anyone who comes near.”

            “If that were the case,” Mrs. Crawford replied calmly, “why would he leave it and come down to town?”

            “I heard,” Mrs. Fisher said, “that he came down from Canada to escape the law up there.”

            “Is he an outlaw?” asked Mrs. Nelson, backing away from the window and holding her baby closer.

            “If he is wanted by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, he must be!” And Mrs. Stokes shook her head. “I wonder if he’s a member of that band of outlaws who were terrorizing the West a number of years ago. I don’t think they ever caught them all.”

            Mrs. Fisher turned from the window to look at her friend. “Were they from Canada?”

            “I don’t know, but they might have been. There are hundreds of miles between the two countries, and they can’t all be watched at once.”

            Mrs. Crawford tried to protest. “Ladies, we don’t know anything about the man.”

            “I overheard my husband and the sheriff talking one night,” Mrs. Moreland said, ignoring Mrs. Crawford. “They were talking about some outlaw leader who must be nearly seven feet tall, and he always goes into a town alone first before the rest of his gang come in and rob it.”

            Mrs. Nelson and Kate gasped.

            “I . . . I . . .” Kate stamKated, “I don’t think I like that man.”

            “And I heard–” Mrs. Fisher began.

            “Ladies!” Mrs. Crawford exclaimed more loudly this time. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t we–” She got no farther.

            Mrs. Stokes’s exclamation sent everyone crowding around the windows. “There he is!”

            Even Mrs. Crawford, though she was not suspicious, was curious about the man who had so suddenly appeared in their midst.

            Sure enough, the mountain man came slowly down the street, gazing at the buildings, and now and then stepping up on the boardwalk before returning to the street again. He didn’t seem to notice the faces of the women peering out the store windows at him. Now and then he would nod and look up at the sky.

            “Oh, there’s your husband, Mrs. Moreland,” Mrs. Fisher said.

            “Maybe he can tell us who the man is,” Mrs. Stokes hinted. “Perhaps you should ask him.”

            Mrs. Moreland, after making sure the mountain man wouldn’t notice, opened the door and beckoned her husband over. “Who is he?” she asked.

            With a shrug, Deputy Moreland shook his head. “Says his name is Tiny and he’s from the mountains. Says he’s come for Christmas.” The deputy looked at the ladies. “I think you’ll be safe if you go home today. Sheriff Kassen is doing some checking. I had better be going. I need to keep my eye on our friend.” With that he hurried away.

            The ladies looked at each other.

            “I don’t think I’ll feel safe at home with just Baby,” Mrs. Nelson said.

            “Come along with me for the day,” Mrs. Stokes offered. “Charlie can shoot straight.” She looked around. “I’ll have to find him though. Maybe he went to visit Mr. Kockenbrock.”

            Mrs. Fisher turned to Mrs. Moreland as Mrs. Stokes walked away with Mrs. Nelson. “May I come home with you? The boardinghouse is all fine and good at night when Mr. Kockenbrock is there because even if he is a bit absentminded at times, he’s big and strong. But in the daytime . . .”

            “Of course.”

            After the ladies left the store, Kate turned to her mother. “Mama, they didn’t purchase their sugar or buttons!”

Next part coming tomorrow..

Did you enjoy the first part of it?