Delivering Virtue

by Brian Kindall

  “Salutations!” said the bearded one. He tipped his hat.

  I nodded, doing my best to smile.

  “I assume that you are Mister Rain.”

  “I am.”

  “I am Brother Junilay – adjunct to his Holiness.”

  “It is a pleasure,” I said.

  The man thrust his bushy chin in Virtue’s direction. “And this, I presume, is our blessed bride.”

  “Virtue,” I said. “Her given name is Virtue.”

  “Yes. Well. We have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

  Virtue tipped her head to the man, but she did not smile.

  The fellow regarded her for a long moment, as if he were sizing up a filly, or perhaps a plate of fried eggs, running the tip of his tongue over the bristles on his lower lip. And then he turned to me. “We greatly appreciate your services, Mister Rain. I presume the merchandise – that is, the girl – is healthy and…” He scratched his ribs with a thumb. “…remains the essence of purity.”

  “You will find none more pure,” I assured him.

  “Good,” he replied. “Good. Good.” He turned to his white cohorts and shot them a look.

  They both squirmed in their saddles, and returned his gesture with small nods.

  The Indians waited behind them.

  “Well, then,” said the good Brother Junilay. “It seems you have completed your mission for us, Mister Rain. And now, without ado, there is nothing left but for us to take the young lady off your hands.”

  Everything was happening too fast for my taste. I did not like the idea of this being the end of it with Virtue. Would we even be given time for a proper goodbye? “Well,” I said. “To be sure. The job is completed. It was quite a trip. And now I suppose we just need to make our swap.”

  The man looked at me, an eyebrow raised. “Swap, Mister Rain?”

  It was the most pathetic piece of acting I had ever witnessed.

  “Yes,” I said. “I will now take my payment, and you will take the girl. As agreed.”

  Junilay put on a frown of consternation. “But, Mister Rain. I believe the agreement was that your payment would be paid to you upon your return to Independence.” He spread his fingers sincerely over his chest. “That, at least, is how it was understood by us.”

  A knot began to twist in the pit of my solar plexus. “Oh no!” I said, and laughed good-naturedly. “There must be some sort of mistake. Brother Thurman clearly indicated that my payment would be handed to me by the Prophet Nehi himself when I delivered Virtue into his waiting arms.”

  “Hmmm!” said the bearded rascal. “Well, obviously communications with our eastern chapter have been misconstrued.” He raised his palms and shrugged. “I suppose that is bound to happen from time to time, what with such a vast distance between us and them.”

  “I suppose,” I said. “Nevertheless…”

  Now there was no body of water anywhere of any size in any direction one could see, but somehow, right there in that vast desert expanse, I began to smell the unmistakable odor of fish.

  “I’m sure it will all work out for you, Mister Rain. You have done a great service for the Restructured Truth. It will be noted in our history. Your name will be uttered for all the ages to come. Just find Brother Benjamin upon your return to Independence. He will have your money for you. Besides, there is nowhere to spend it out here anyway.” He chuckled at this. “You can keep your horse. But now, I am sure the Prophet is eager to meet his new bride.” He held his hand toward Virtue, indicating that she should mount Genevieve and prepare to go.

  Virtue looked at me.

  I looked at her.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes. I am sure you are anxious to get the girl to her… to her… But we can clear up this matter right here and now. I have a copy of the contract somewhere.” I patted my shirt with my palms. “Rain,” I muttered, “where did you put that?”

  “There is no need, sir. Just return to Independence for your fee.”

  “No,” I said. “I am sure I have a signed copy here somewhere. Now what did I do with it?” I scratched my chin and stared at the ground, as if trying to remember.

  Junilay sighed and shrugged to his men.

  My mind was running like a deer.

  “Girl!” I said, and snapped my fingers. “Come here! Help me look!”

  I hated the expression on Virtue’s face, but I knew I had to keep up the act. She paused, but then, trusting me, she stepped over to where I was standing by Brownie.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Junilay give his men a secret signal. They dismounted, and started my way.

  I watched them without watching, keeping track of where they were in relation to my person. “Where did I put that paper, girl?”

  Virtue stood beside me with her hands at her sides. She did not speak.

  “Mister Rain,” said Junilay. “There is no need.”

  I unlatched the strap on my saddlebag and reached inside, as if searching for the missing document. “It says right there on this paper… Payment in full. I am sure of it.”

  The henchmen were close now. They had not drawn their pistols, but I suspected they were about to. I desperately groped inside the bag until, at last, my hand came in contact with what I was searching. I curled my fingers around it, took a big breath, and pulled it out with a howl of the likes uttered by a demon from the deepest pits of hell.

  “Awooooh!”

  I grabbed hold of Virtue, twisting her arm behind her back, holding her close to my front side, and pointing my Francote Pinfire revolver, Belgian made, at the pair of dragoons stalking my way.

  “Halt!” I cried. “Do not take another step!”

  THE HENCHMEN STOPPED IN their tracks and half squatted down, greatly shocked. They both moved their hands into position over their sidearms, fingers twitching, but did not make to draw their guns from out of their holsters. They were but a single rod before me, and my aim was too close for them to take a chance. The Utes sat up in their saddles and raised their shotguns part way to their shoulders. Junilay’s eyes grew large. His horse pranced a quick nervous circle. The bearded man held up his arm as a signal for the Indians not to shoot.

  An eternal moment passed where we all reconnoitered our positions.

  Brother Junilay’s complexion turned the sickly pallor of a cod’s belly. He squeezed his arms into his sides and hunched up, as if to hold himself together. “Mister Rain,” he quavered. “Mister Rain, what are you doing?”

  “Hear me!” I cried. “Ye men of unrighteous conduct!”

  The henchmen narrowed their eyes.

  Junilay visibly shuddered.

  “Verily, verily, I say unto you!” I cried this at the top of my voice, as volume somewhat added to my slim daring. I did not honestly know where I was going with my theatrical evangelism, but I hoped that some spirit would take me over and guide my tongue. “Verily!” I cried. “Verily and behold!”

  The group waited before me.

  Virtue pressed her shoulder blades against my chest. I held her wrist between my belly and the small of her back. Even in that heated moment, I could smell her sweet-as-flowers scent. It bolstered my courage.

  “How dare ye!” I continued with my rant. “How dare ye suspend the workings of the Almighty! For I am the Blessed Deliverer, sent to do His bidding! Who be ye to darest interfere with the will of God?”

  Junilay hemmed, and then started to speak, but I did not give him time to make an answer.

  “For the prophecy hath declared my soul’s earthly cask the right of passage through the wilderness. I am protected! I am the Chosen One! Mine are the hands that will deliver the Holy Betrothed unto the Prophet. The prophecy shall be fulfilled by the might of Didier Rain! So commandeth the voice of God! Amen!”

  Junilay took ahold of his beard in one hand, fondling his whiskers while replaying my words in his head. He looked a bit dazed. He asked, “What would you have us to do, Mister Rain?”

  “First, ye must cast down your arms.”
I waved my pistol at the two men before me. “Slowly.”

  The men glanced at one another, and then studied my weapon. Mine was not as impressive as their rather large revolvers, but it enjoyed the advantage of being already drawn and aimed. I hoped they were unable to tell that my gun was not loaded. They seemed to be weighing the situation, each one trying to decide which of them would be most likely to take a bullet if they pounced. They looked to be doing mathematical equations in their heads. I pointed my gun first at the heart muscle of one, then the other, back and forth like that, to keep them guessing.

  “We had better do as the man says,” advised Junilay.

  “Slowly,” I said. “One at a time.” I thrust my gun barrel toward the chest of the one on the right. “You first. Reaching across with your left hand.”

  The man thought about this sequence, and then did as I said, holding the pistol daintily by the handle, and then tossing it gently into the dirt in front of him. I turned my pistol on the other man, and he repeated the procedure in more or less the same manner. I felt greatly relieved, but not necessarily out of trouble just yet.

  “Now,” I called. “You two back there. Crack those double barrels and kick out the shells onto the ground.”

  The Indians looked to Junilay, as if bored. Junilay bobbed his head. The Indians opened their guns and plucked the shells from their chambers, dropping them at their horses’ feet.

  “Now the guns,” I commanded.

  They dropped the shotguns to the ground.

  I figured Junilay was no marksman, and so I decided that he should go to the empty horses, pull the rifles from their scabbards, and toss them away to the side. He did this at my orders, his hands shaking like leaves in a breeze. I felt certain he lacked the nerve to try anything too bold.

  With all the men unarmed, I then narrated for them the story I would like to see played out for my benefit.

  “You will now ride back down to the Prophet. All in a bunch, together. No stragglers. I will be watching from my perch on this Mount Pisgah. In one single hour, you, Brother Junilay, will return. You will be accompanied only by the Prophet Nehi.”

  Junilay looked doubtful at this, and I felt a need to reiterate.

  “You and the good Prophet will return alone, and unarmed. You will bring me thirty thousand dollars in earthly currency. Gold or cash. It makes no difference.”

  “Mister Rain…”

  I held up my pistol to silence the man. “As it is written!” I cried. “According to the writ of the Prophecy!”

  Junilay sighed, and slowly nodded his blanched hairy face.

  “Upon receiving my reward, I will graciously deliver Virtue into the arms of the Prophet. As agreed.”

  I quick went over in my head to think if I had forgotten anything important. I was rather nervous, and it would not have surprised me if I had. But I felt I had said enough.

  “Now let me warn you,” I concluded. “You do not know who you are dealing with here. I am not one to be taken lightly.” It pained me to do so, even with my gun empty, but I turned the pistol so that its snout rested against the beautiful blond shock of hair draped over Virtue’s temple.

  She tensed, and arched her back.

  I cocked the pistol for emphasis. “No heroics,” I said. “No attempts at trickery. I assure you, gentlemen, you do not want to cross me. For hers will not be the first young girl’s life I have taken for the sake of treachery.”

  The truth in what I said instilled a doomful weight to my words that surprised even me. It no doubt impressed Junilay and his contingent. He seemed quite earnest, and eager to be away from me and my apparent lunacy. But in truth, my little act struck me as thin and unconvincing. Had it been a horse, I might have shot it for lame. But it seemed to serve its purpose.

  “Now go!” I commanded. “And sin no more!”

  THEY TROTTED AWAY DOWN the hill, with Junilay glancing back over his shoulder.

  I held Virtue a while longer, not realizing that I might possibly be hurting her arm with my maniac’s grip. I leaned against her – for support truly – my chest against her back. I had grown weak in the knees, and she was so nice to hold onto. But then I gathered myself and, somewhat embarrassed by my behavior, I let go of her wrist.

  She hastily stepped away from me, grabbing the lower part of her arm and rubbing it back to life.

  “I am sorry,” I said. “Are you all right?”

  She glared at me, as if trying to read what I was up to, as if endeavoring to comprehend who I truly was. It pained me to undergo this critical character inspection from the one person in all the world for whom I cared. But I suppose I had it coming.

  “I panicked,” I explained. “I saw no other option. Please forgive my ungentlemanly behavior.”

  Apologetically, I held up my empty revolver and dropped it to the ground.

  Virtue nodded doubtfully, still rubbing her wrist.

  I wanted to explain myself further, to drop on my knees before her and pour out my heart. There suddenly seemed so much to say. But I felt there was some pressing business to attend to first. I needed to figure some things out quick. I needed to make sure the riders were doing as I had instructed. I stalked over so that I had a clear view of the slope leading down to the compound. Junilay and his thugs all galloped in a bunch, appearing to obey my request.

  I picked up a loose shotgun and tossed it as far as I could into the sagebrush, uttering a sibilant growl. I performed the same act with a rifle. I could not say why I did this, as it served no good purpose in the conundrum at hand. Perhaps it was just for a bit of exercise to release some of my frustration.

  The five riders turned their horses back through the gate and went directly to the big house. They all dismounted, but only Junilay went in through the front door. The others hastily went off to reconnoiter with some other men. The group looked our way more than once. Even from afar, I noted many a rifle barrel glinting in the sun.

  “Oh, man,” I moaned, and rubbed my face in my hands. I felt I had squarely kicked a beehive, and now the drones were all abuzz.

  “Damn!”

  I paced back and forth along the ridge, chewing at my thumbnail and doing some quick calculations. Anyway I turned it, nothing was adding up in my favor.

  Virtue stood quietly near Genevieve.

  I tried to imagine her down there in that weird settlement. I tried to see her as a part of that clan – ultimately its materfamilias. But all I could conjure in my busy mind was an unsavory image of her with the Prophet Nehi. I could not say. I suppose it was just pure boyish jealousy. But that vision was distasteful to me. It made me angry. It stirred in me a peculiar mixture of paternal protectiveness and a cuckold’s ire. Most confusing. For I was neither her parent nor her spouse. But either way, I felt an overpowering reluctance to turn Virtue over to the Restructured Truth.

  “Now, Rain,” I told myself. “That decision is not rightly yours to make.”

  Nevertheless…

  I looked at the sky. Cloudless. Blue. Maybe Paradise. Maybe not.

  I strode over to Puck and Brownie. They were nervous too, quite agitated. “What do you think, boys?” I stroked their shoulders. I assessed their condition. Their legs were covered in scratches and scabs, and Puck’s fetlock was swollen. Their ribs were showing through their mangy hides. The straps on Brownie’s saddle and Puck’s pack frame were buckled all the way to the last notch so as to more snugly accommodate their diminishing girth. They were both in sore need of a long rest.

  “Well,” I said. “Do you think you have it in you?”

  Brownie did not hesitate, but blew an affirmative blast of air through his nostrils. Puck followed his example.

  I felt privileged to be a comrade to such noble beasts. I felt myself somewhat reinforced by their selfless courage.

  “Well,” I said. “We will see how the events develop.”

  I turned to Virtue. She stood on the edge of the hill, alone now, gazing down at the City of Rocks. I surmised that she wa
s considering her role in this scenario, and in the world at large. In so many ways, she had never seemed a part of this world to begin with. And yet, she was somehow, at the same time, the very life essence of the world itself. It was an impossible idea to explain. Like a dream. More felt than anything. And I did not have the leisure to work it out in my head right then. Although I secretly hoped I could someday find a way to express it in a simple poem. But that would have to wait.

  I walked over and stood beside her.

  She did not look my way, but I felt she was aware of my presence.

  I pulled a deep gulp of air into my lungs, and then let it out. “Virtue,” I said, feeling weak and inept.

  Oh, where to begin?

  “Virtue. Darling girl. It seems the circumstances are different than we imagined.”

  She did not speak.

  I sighed. Then swallowed. “I have never been much of a man,” I confessed. “I know that about myself. I have multiple failings. They have overwhelmed my good intentions more than once. And I regret to admit that I have defied every Thou Shalt Not from here to Sinai and Parnassus.” I shook my head. “I do not suppose I can rightly expect much assistance from any of the available gods.”

  I peered at the commotion down in the valley. Something was happening, forces were gathering, strategies were being quickly planned. I knew we hadn’t much time.

  “But you, Virtue. You are good. You are innocent and blessed. I am sure that whatever you do, and wherever you go, you will be looked out for by the forces that be.” I shrugged. “That is but my humble hunch.”

  Precious seconds were ticking away.

  “I feel I have become better by knowing you,” I continued. “I feel like it was a fortuitous occurrence that you and I should meet, and have had such occasion to know one another while traveling through the wilderness.” My voice was thin, and somewhat quavering as I said all this. “I feel privileged to call you my friend.”

  Virtue did not apparently respond to my openness, and this disturbed me, as I suppose I hoped she felt somewhat the same about me. If she did, she did not say so at that time.

  Down below, men were gathering, and horses. I found it hard to believe they would not at least make a pretense to follow my guidelines. I was sure that Virtue meant too much to them to ever dare a brash act leading to her harm. One felt that their entire earthly enterprise somehow depended upon her survival and participation. The Restructured Truth was surely destined to evaporate into the blue ether without Virtue. Still, they seemed to be gathering for an alternative plan than the one I had outlined. I figured that even if they had thirty thousand dollars to give, they would then hunt me down and take it back. What I was witness to now, I decided, was but an assembling of that hunting party.