by Joe Corso
“I was an altar boy and one day my priest gave me a book to read. It was about the lives of the saints. That did it for me. I was hooked and when I became old enough, I took my vows. God can appear to us in many forms and in many ways. I’m a Christian and I believe in our lord God Jesus as my savior, but I believe God is everywhere and in everything. Let me give you an example of another approach to God. With this example, you’ll see that just as you are growing, so is God growing. Follow me as I explain my theory. Thanks to today’s scientists, one of which I was privileged to study under, we know that everything in the universe embraces something lesser than itself - and is part of something greater. For example, the atom embraces the molecule and is part of the cell, the cell embraces molecule and is part of the organ, the organ embraces the cell and is part of the body, the body embraces the organ and is part of the universe, and . . . the universe embraces the body and is part of . . . What? It embraces something; something that is alive and growing just as you and I are growing. We are all a part of a living something that we could call God. Who knows? You might be a cell in a pimple on the nose of God. Does this make any sense to you?”
“It does, padre. Gives a man something to think about, doesn’t it?”
The padre nodded. “But let’s discuss something closer to home. There are those that say Jesus never existed. That he’s a figment of someone’s imagination. Now here’s another interesting little hypothesis of mine. Some people don’t believe in a God. Some don’t believe that Jesus ever existed. Well, I have a surprise for those folks. Whether Jesus existed or didn’t exist doesn’t matter because it is one and the same.”
Charlie interrupted. “Wait a minute, padre. I don’t understand where you’re going with this. If Jesus was alive or didn’t exist, how can they be one and the same? He either lived or he didn’t live; it’s as simple as that. I’d like you to explain how they can be one and the same - when they are so different.”
“Ah. Now we are getting to the crux of the matter. Isn’t it interesting? They are one and the same and yet they are so very different.” The padre smiled and nodded. “Good, good; now we’re getting somewhere. Okay, let’s take the premise that Jesus did exist. Since his death on the cross, billions of people have prayed to him through the centuries, and some like St Joseph of Coppertino who died in 1663 and St Gerard Majella who died in 1755 have exhibited supernormal powers such as levitation. Now consider the billions of people, who through the centuries, have prayed to Jesus.”
“Yes so? They prayed. So what? What does prayer have to do with God?” Charlie was becoming frustrated.
“So!” the monk continued. “Billions of Christians Prayed to Jesus Christ. And prayer, Charles, is thought, and thought is an energy, a measurable energy which, shall we say, accumulates somewhere. Let’s imagine for a moment that it accumulates on an Akashic plane and those who pray hard enough or believe hard enough can tap into that power and use it to perform miracles. Just think of all the people who, through the centuries, have prayed to Jesus. Now think of that prayer as energy that is accumulating each moment of each day, somewhere in time and space. There are true believers who know how to tap into the power of prayer, which is offering its magical power to true believers. But a little while ago, I said that it didn’t make a difference if Jesus lived or had never existed.”
Charlie was hooked now. The padre was giving him a discourse on God that he hadn’t heard before and he was interested in hearing more of what he had to say. “Go ahead, padre. Now let’s say Jesus never existed. Explain how that’s the same as if he lived?”
The padre was patient. He knew Charles had killed people in the past and that he was likely to do so again. But the padre wanted him to know that he wasn’t just a system of plumbing; he was so much more. “All right, Charles. Let’s say that Jesus never existed. Now how can a prayer sent to someone who never existed help a true believer? Remember! I said prayer is thought and thought is power. Let’s say that people through the centuries prayed to a Jesus that never existed. That much we can say is true, right? But the energy of their prayer is real and that energy is accumulating in the same place as those who prayed to the living Jesus. But let’s not dwell on just Jesus; what about Buddha, or Krishna, or Mohammed, or any of the saints that lived and died that people are praying to. It’s all power, Charles, and it’s all accumulating in the same place. The power of prayer is waiting patiently for those who are devout enough to receive its blessings. I myself am a believer in the one true God Jesus Christ, the living God who died on the cross for our sins.” The priest made the sign of the cross once again and then made it again over Charlie.
Charlie looked at the monk and shook his head. “Father, you would have made a good horse trader, because I never looked at God this way before.
“I’m just about healed, padre. I never introduced myself properly to you. My name is Charles Longstreet.”
The padre cut him off. “You’re the Lone Jack Kid. I knew it as soon as I saw your guns.”
Charlie was confused. “But how did you know about my guns, padre?”
The priest smiled, reached into the sack he carried, and pulled out a dime novel. “Even a priest likes to read something different once in a while,” he said with a big smile on his round cherubic face. “And since we’re introducing one another, I’m Father Riccardo Sanchez.”
CHAPTER 10
Charlie and Father Sanchez, who was mounted on one of the dead men’s horses, rode into Virginia City together, leading their other three horses plus the two Indian horses.
“Keep the horse you’re on, Padre, and give the others to your brothers at the church. If anyone gives you a hard time about it, tell them I gave them to you. But before I say goodbye, I have something for you.” Charlie reached under his shirt for his money belt, took out five hundred dollars, and handed it to Father Sanchez. “Give this to the treasurer of your church Padre. It’s my way of saying thanks for all that you’ve done for me.” They shook hands, but Charlie had something more to say. “We’ll get together someday and continue our little talk.”
The padre smiled and said, “I’d like that. I’ve gotten kind of used to you, Charles, and I wouldn’t want to hear that you got yourself killed. I couldn’t help you if you did that. Good-bye for now, Charles.”
“So long, Padre.”
The Kid turned and rode through the main street of Virginia City, looking at the signs above the buildings for his brother’s store. He found it about halfway through the city. There was a sign above the store that said “LONGSTREET’S.” He pulled up in front, tied his horse to the railing, and walked into his brother’s store, calling out loudly, “Is there a miserable cur named Robert Longstreet anywhere in this establishment?”
A voice from behind a rack of clothing hollered back at him. “Charlie, you old dog, is that really you?” Robert ran to his brother and embraced him. “Geez, Charlie, but it’s good to see you. I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to get here.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, Bobby, I had a little run in with four men outside of town by a fenced-in piece of property and they wouldn’t let me through the gate.”
Bobby nodded. “Those men are part of the Parker gang. What happened? Did you ride around the fence to get here?”
“No, brother. I did no such thing. I refuse to walk around anyone, and we had a shootout.”
“My God. A shootout? What happened?”
“I got shot. That’s what happened. If it wasn’t for a traveling monk, Father Sanchez, finding me, I would have died ‘cause I lost a lot of blood.”
“What about the four men? What happened to them?”
“I killed them.”
“The four of them?”
“Yes sir, Robert. I killed all four of them.”
Robert had to sit down on one of his chairs after hearing that. “Well, the ball has started then. The Parker boys will sure enough come gunning for you.”
Charlie laughed as he pulled up
a chair and sat next to his brother. “Hell, let them come. I’m not running from no back-shooting cowards. In fact, tell me where they hang out, and I’ll go and tell them myself.”
Robert wiped his brow. “There’s something else, Charlie.” Charlie looked at his brother. “And what might that be, Bobby?”
“There’s someone using your name in a dime novel. A guy by the name of Buntline wrote it.”
“Yeah, I know about that book. It’s caused me nothing but grief all the way here. I’m sorry I ever met that fella and when I catch up with him, his ass is gonna be mine.”
“You know Buntline?”
“Yeah, we was in a shootout together. Man’s got guts, though, I’ll give him that. He stood right there with Cole and me against three shooters.”
“That was all true? I can’t believe it. And Cole Younger was with you?”
“Yeah, and Jesse and Frank James, but I don’t guess you heard of those boys.”
“Are you kidding? They rode with Quantril.”
“Yeah, well, so did I. So what?”
“Well, now they’re robbing banks all over Missouri. They’re famous outlaws now.”
Charlie scratched his beard. “Well, I’ll be damned. I knew they’re a wild bunch, but bank robbers? I’ll bet that they’re just robbing Yankee banks.” He laughed, saying it.
Just then, the back door opened and a pretty young lady walked up to Robert. “Susie, say hello to my big brother Charles Longstreet, also known as the Lone Jack Kid.” He said it jokingly, but it affected her and she put her hand to her lips. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Your brother is the Lone Jack Kid?”
“Where’s the sheriff’s office, Bob?”
“It’s on this side of the street down a ways. Why?” Bob was afraid that his brother had stepped afoul of the law, but Charlie soothed his fears.
“Don’t worry, little brother. I have some business with him, that’s all. Come on, take a walk with me and you can tell me all about your problems. Then I’d like to get my horse tended to and then a nice bath and some good food and I’ll feel like a new man. Nice to meet you, Susie.”
Bob made the introductions. “Sheriff, I’d like you to meet my brother, Charlie. Charlie, meet Sheriff Wheeler. Sheriff, my brother has some business to discuss with you. I have no idea what it is, but I’ll let him tell you about it.”
Charlie put his saddlebags on the desk and opened the flap. He took out the two billfolds he took off of the Reilly brothers. “Sheriff, I was bushwhacked on my way here by these two ruffians. A Union officer warned me that they were seen in the vicinity and might be in the area, so I slept with one eye open. These boys butchered a number of families and if you check your wanted posters, you’ll see that there’s a reward for them, alive or dead. I buried them, but their billfolds will prove that what I’m telling you is true.”
Wheeler examined the billfolds, then he nodded his head. “Yeah, I heard about these boys. Have a seat while I check my wanted posters.” After a few minutes, he pulled a wanted poster, showing pictures of the brothers. “Yep, here it is. Fifteen hundred dollars for each of them. I’ll have to wire Fort Kearny and let them know the Reillys are dead. When they send me the reward money, I’ll give it to you.”
“Sounds fair, sheriff. But I have a few more items for you to check out.” Charlie reached into his saddlebags once again and pulled out four more billfolds. “Would you mind checking these out also?”
Wheeler read the names and whistled. “Wow. You’ve been a busy man. What happened to these men?” The Kid explained what happened. “You faced all four of them and lived? Those men were experienced gunslingers.”
“Yeah, well I managed to get three of them, but the fourth man plugged me good. Thought I was gonna die because I was bleeding like a stuck pig. If it wasn’t for a monk who happened upon me, I would have surely died.”
The sheriff looked at the Kid with new respect. “Let me get this straight. You killed the two Reilly brothers and then you faced these four men and bested them. Do I have the story right so far?”
“Yes.”
“And now you want me to see if there’s a reward out on them?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”
Bobby looked at his brother. “Geez, Charlie, I had no idea you had it so rough.”
Charlie waved him off. “The war hardens a man, Bob. I faced much tougher men in the army. None of these guys scared me. And if I say so myself, I don’t believe there are many men faster’n me with a shootin iron.”
The sheriff interrupted the brothers. “Will Smith, one of the men you killed, has a reward of five hundred dollars on his head, dead or alive, for bank robbery. I can give you that reward money right now because that’s in my jurisdiction.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “Have you ever heard of the Lone Jack Kid, sheriff?”
“Of course I have. Everyone’s heard of him.” Then it dawned on Wheeler as he recognized the name. “Charles Longstreet. You mean your brother is the Kid?”
“Yes - it surprised me too because I had no idea my brother and the Lone Jack Kid were one and the same.”
Charlie took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Then, as he let it out, he told the sheriff, “This was something I never wanted, sheriff. I don’t need this kind of notoriety. Every town I enter, there’s someone looking to challenge me. That damned Buntline and his dime novels.”
The sheriff looked at Charlie differently and with a whole lot of respect. “I haven’t read the book, but my deputy told me about it. Was that part about the gunfight with Buntline and you true?”
“Yes, it was, sheriff. And the third man was Cole Younger.”
Wheeler’s eyes lit up. “Geez, that was Cole Younger that was with you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well him and his brothers and the James boys have gone on a bank robbing rampage since getting out of the army.”
Charlie laughed. “Well, all I can say, sheriff, is that that they’re probably robbing only Union banks.”
Wheeler, having served in the Confederate army, joined in the laughter - but then became serious. “Be careful, Charlie, Parker’s men are dangerous. I keep them in line when they’re in town. They know I won’t brook no gunplay in my town and I proved it by putting a few of their men in my jail to cool off and they don’t want any part of that.”
“The monk that tended to me told me that they’re part of the Parker gang. Who is Parker?”
“He’s a land-grabbing vulture who owns a good part of this town. He’s strong-arming business owners, aiming to convince them to sell their business to him.”
Bobby agreed. “That’s what I wrote you about, Charlie. He wants my business and he sent men in to cause trouble.”
“What kind of trouble, Bob?”
“One or two cowboys will walk into the store and knock racks over. They’ll take something and walk out without paying for it and laugh at me while they’re doing it. Sort of challenging me to do something about it. That kind of trouble. And after every incident, Parker himself walks in and asks me if I’m ready to sell my business to him.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry any longer about anyone bothering you, Bob, ‘cause I’ll be here to protect you. Let those thugs come in looking for trouble because they surely are going to find it.”
Wheeler handed Charlie the five hundred dollars in reward money and they shook hands. Before leaving, Charlie thanked Wheeler for his help. Then he leaned in closer to the sheriff. “Sheriff, I don’t mean to cause you any problems while I’m here, but you must understand that I won’t let anyone push me or my brother around. If that happens, then I’m obliged to do something about it. But I promise you it won’t be me that starts the trouble.”
“Fair enough, Kid.”
CHAPTER 11
Jeremiah led the wagon train west along the dusty trail for a month until they eventually left Indian Territory and crossed over into Montana Territory. After anot
her week of traveling, they approached the wire fence that prevented entry into the outskirts of Virginia City. Jeremiah looked for an opening, but couldn’t find any. They finally came to six rough looking men stationed near a large gate, collecting tolls. Jeremiah approached one of the men. “Where can we enter the road to Virginia City?”
The man pointed to the gate and said, “Right here. It’ll cost you ten dollars a wagon and two dollars for a man on horseback.”
Jeremiah became flustered over the exorbitant price. “I’m sorry, but our people can’t afford that much money for tolls.”
“Then find another way to get to Virginia City.”
Jeremiah led the wagon train to a clearing beyond a grove of trees and circled the wagons, then he rode over to Ezra’s wagon. “Ezra, I’m going to ride around the fence until I find a way in, then I’m going to Virginia City to find the Kid. I’m leaving you in charge until I get back.” They shook hands and Ezra watched Jeremiah ride away until he was a small dot on the prairie, and then he disappeared from sight.
Jeremiah rode for hours until he came to a stream swollen from three days of rain, which made the stream look more like a river than a stream. He rode along the stream looking for a shallow spot to ford it, and he found a place about two miles from the gate. He guided his horse into the water, but it was deeper than he thought and the horse had to struggle to make it across. Once he reached the other bank, Jeremiah dismounted and walked the horse and let her graze until she recovered her strength. Then he got back on and rode her another ten miles to Virginia City. He studied each sign as he rode along the busy street, then he saw a sign in large letters above a store that said “LONGSTREET’S.” He tied his horse to the post, entered the store, and asked the pretty young lady behind the counter, “Excuse me, miss. Would Mr. Charles Longstreet be here? I’m Jeremiah Simpson and I’m the wagon master of a wagon train out of Missouri and Charlie scouted for us.”
She looked at the man and she knew he was telling her the truth. “He’s in the back with my husband, Mr. Simpson. Wait here a moment and I’ll get him.”
