Black Noon

by Andrew J. Fenady

  “Well, it’s good of you to talk that way, but . . .”

  “Jon, I’m going to ask you something that I’d never ask of anyone else in this world. Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead, Caleb.”

  “You’re going to Saguaro with your wife . . .” he paused. His voice took on the tone of quiet last resort. “If Moon doesn’t come back here before you leave, would you take Deliverance with you and Lorna . . . take her to Saguaro with you and save her from . . .”

  From a distance, on the street, sounds of a strident voice, hoofbeats pounding. Joseph, Jacob, and Sam Hawkins were riding into town as if their saddles were on fire. Joseph held up a canvas sack, and his horse leaped over a water trough as he hollered with all the might of his lungs.

  “Where’s Caleb! Got go find Caleb and tell him! It’s a miracle . . . purely a miracle! Where’s Caleb?”

  Keyes and Caleb reacted to the commotion and hoofbeats and quickly moved toward the sounds and the riders, along with dozens of townspeople doing their best to keep up with the horsemen.

  Joseph, when he spotted the two men, leaped off his mount as if he were seventeen, still holding the canvas sack.

  “Caleb, it’s a miracle!” Without pausing for breath, he went on. “Purely a miracle! Just look here . . . a miracle, Caleb. Looks like the Reverend’s done it again!”

  “What is it, Joseph?” Caleb said. “What’s happened?”

  Deliverance had come out of the shed, the cat in her arms, and waited with the rest of them for Joseph’s answer.

  Joseph made no attempt to subdue his excitement. Neither did Jacob and Sam Hawkins, who were now beside him. Hawkins started to speak, but Joseph interrupted.

  “Let me tell it, Sam!”

  “Well, go ahead and tell it,” Caleb said.

  “We was out at the mine . . . to board it up like you said, so the children wouldn’t go in there and get lost . . . but before we did, some of us went inside to make sure there wasn’t anything left that we could use . . . then it happened!”

  “What!?”

  “One of the old shafts collapsed . . . ‘mightier than the noise of many waters’ . . . nobody was hurt, but Caleb, there it was . . . the richest vein I ever seen . . . the mother lode. Just look!”

  Joseph reached into the canvas sack and pulled out some small rocks.

  “Look at these!” He handed Caleb one of the rocks and passed some of the other samples to those nearest in the crowd.

  Caleb’s eyes were aglow as he studied the nugget in his palm.

  “There’s more like these?”

  “A whole mountain more, more than ever before.” He turned toward Keyes. “Yes, sir, Reverend, once again you brought us good fortune . . . Hallelujah!”

  The rest of the crowd joined in with cheers of celebration and unabashed relief.

  Caleb placed the glittering stone in Keyes’s left hand, then grasped his right in a hearty handshake.

  “Jon, ‘Fate?’ ‘Destiny?’ ‘Chance?’ I don’t think so . . . the hand of the Lord . . . and yours.”

  Keyes looked at the stone in his palm, then at the people of San Melas, still celebrating . . . everybody except Deliverance as she gazed silently at Jonathon Keyes.

  Lorna had finished the letter to Reverend Mason in Saguaro. Bethia was still in the room and had the wedding portrait of Keyes and Lorna in her hand, dusting it.

  Lorna turned toward the open window and listened to the sounds of voices from outside.

  “Bethia.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What’s all the excitement out there?”

  Bethia went to the window and looked down.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. I’ll find out.”

  “And would you do me a favor, please?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she returned to the desk and placed the wedding portrait on it.

  Lorna held out the envelope.

  “Would you see that this gets sent with the next mail?”

  “Of course, ma’am. I’d be glad to.”

  CHAPTER 37

  “Well, Jonathon, in return for saving our lives, it seems that your being here has been of quite some benefit to the people who did the saving.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m told they call it another miracle. First, what you did for that little boy, Ethan, at the service and then at the mine, and now that new vein of gold.”

  “Lorna, I had nothing to do with the gold.”

  “The people here think otherwise . . . and maybe they have a right to.”

  “Never mind that, the important thing is how are you feeling? You seem much improved.”

  “I guess so, and sending that letter to Reverend Mason made me feel even better. If it weren’t for him . . .”

  “If it weren’t for him our lives would be much different.”

  “How did he feel when you told him?”

  “I’ll never forget. It was at the hospital just as I was about to leave.”

  “Well, Captain, you’re as good as ever. The war’s over, and you’re ready to resume your law studies.”

  “No, sir, I’m not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve changed my mind.”

  “About what?”

  “About being a lawyer. I’d like to be something else.”

  “Like what? A soldier?”

  “No. I’ve had enough of soldiering. Something like you . . . if that’s possible.”

  “A minister?”

  “A minister, who helps others, like you helped me and the rest of the people you’ve come across. I feel I was spared for some purpose . . . and that’s it.”

  “It’s not an easy life, my son . . . and not monetarily very rewarding.”

  “There are other rewards, sir . . . you know that.”

  “Have you told your fiancée?”

  “Not yet. I didn’t want to put it in a letter. Will you help me?”

  “To tell her?

  “No, sir. To become a minister.”

  “Why don’t you think it over, after you go back?”

  “I’ve already thought it over. Will you help me?”

  “I’ll do all I can . . . and start right now.”

  “How?”

  “By giving you this Bible.”

  “Your Bible? No, sir, I can’t take it.”

  “You can, and you will. It’s helped me along many a thorny path. Maybe it can do the same for you.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say . . .”

  “Don’t say anything. Just do what you must do.”

  “I’ve carried his Bible since then, Lorna. In a way we both have. It’s been with us all the way.”

  “All the way to Saguaro, Jonathon . . . and beyond . . . I’m so glad we sent that letter.”

  The letter in the envelope addressed to Reverend James Mason was now in the hand of Deliverance at her workbench.

  Her eyes glistened by candlelight as she looked at the envelope for a moment . . . then to the cat on the table . . . then to the wax figure of Lorna.

  Deliverance moved the envelope closer to the flame of the candle and held it there as the flame consumed the contents.

  CHAPTER 38

  Caleb Hobbs pointed with his pipe to the burned-out church.

  “Well, Reverend, less than twenty-four hours ago we stood here on the same spot. How things have changed since then. And soon this site will be filled with the lumber and tools it takes to rebuild, and most of the people of San Melas will be using those tools while some are at the mine . . . Yes, m’boy, San Melas is once more a bustling, prosperous community . . . thanks in good measure to you.”

  “That’s enough of that, Caleb,” Keyes said with an effacing smile.

  “All right, Jon,” Caleb relit his pipe, “but seriously. . . on behalf of the people of San Melas, I’m going to ask you to do one more thing . . . for all of us . . . and in a way for yourself, too.”

  “What’s that?”

&
nbsp; “Stay with us just a little while longer . . . not necessarily until the church is finished . . . at least until the framework is up and we can go inside and listen to you give the first sermon.”

  “I’d like to, Caleb,” Keyes hesitated, “but Lorna is feeling better, and she’s . . .”

  “All the more reason to stay! It’ll do her good to gain even more strength and at the same time see you up there doing what you were meant to do.”

  “Well,” Keyes shrugged, “I’ll talk to her . . .”

  “I’m sure she’ll agree . . . and one more thing we won’t have to worry about, when Moon comes back, and I’m sure he will . . .”

  “So am I.”

  “We’ll have gold to give him, even more than before.”

  “Yes, Caleb, I’ve thought about that, too.”

  “And, Jon, when you do leave, we’ll see to it that you have some of that gold to take with you.”

  “No. No. I don’t want . . .”

  “. . . To help you and Lorna get started in Saguaro. Now don’t argue with me m’boy. The trip all the way out here has cost you a lot, and ministers don’t exactly swim in money . . . so let us give you a little boost.”

  Lorna looked out of the window and stared at the light flickering from Deliverance’s shed. There was a renewed weariness in her shoulders, and the rest of her body slumped noticeably as her hands leaned against the sill for support.

  “How long do you think it will take before you can give that first sermon . . . even if the church isn’t finished?”

  “Not very long. They’re going to work as fast as they can . . . but, Lorna, I won’t . . . we won’t stay if you’re . . .” he rose from the desk, “. . . Lorna, are you all right? You seem . . .”

  “Just a little dizzy, I . . . think I’ll lie down . . . it’ll pass.”

  “I’m sure it will.”

  She moved unsteadily to the bed and lay against the pillows.

  He took her hand and held it tenderly. Lorna looked at both of their hands entwined.

  “Jonathon . . . our rings . . . remember what you said after you came back . . .”

  He nodded.

  “It was at the same secluded spot along the Raisin Riverbank where Libbie and General Custer had interrupted us during the war. But now the war was over.”

  “Jonathon, I know there’s something on your mind. I can tell by the look on your face, the way you’ve been acting since you’ve come home.”

  “Lorna, I didn’t want to write and tell you this, but . . .”

  “What is it, my dear? Is it about the wound? Something I should know?”

  “Not exactly the wound, but, yes, something you should know . . . and if you change your mind . . .”

  “About what?”

  “About what I’m going to do, or rather, not do.”

  “Then tell me, Jonathon.”

  “I’m not going to go back and finish law school.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No. That’s what I’m not going to do. But . . . I’ve decided to become a minister. Reverend Mason’s written me a letter. He’s getting old, and the war’s taken a lot out of him. He’s going to retire soon, and he’s asked me to come to Saguaro and take his place when he does. It’s not an easy life . . . and not much money . . . or prospect . . .”

  “Are you finished telling me?”

  “No, Lorna . . . what I wanted to say is that . . . well, I asked you once before, when I was leaving for the army—and now that I’ve told you about this—if you want to take off that ring I gave you . . . the engagement ring . . . I’ll understand.”

  “Oh, Jonathon, you sweet, darling fool. Do you think I wanted to marry a lawyer? I wanted to marry you. I still do . . . and always will.”

  “I remember, Jonathon. How could I ever forget,” she held up her left hand. “And I remember saying that I’ll always wear this ring, even after I die.”

  “So will I, Lorna.” He leaned closer and kissed her.

  “I can understand why they’d want you to give the first sermon . . . and a few extra days won’t make that much difference, as long as we’re together . . . I . . . I’m a little tired . . . I . . .”

  “Go to sleep, Lorna. I’ll be beside you in just a few minutes.”

  Keyes rose and walked across the room toward the dresser.

  A sublime look of satisfaction came across the face of Deliverance as her fingers moved from the wax figure of Keyes to that of Lorna.

  Keyes finished dampening his face from the dresser washbowl and reached for a towel but stopped abruptly as he glanced at the mirror.

  He was there.

  The agonized image of the half-naked man, seared and tortured, arms outstretched, his blemished mouth trying to convey a message, but voiceless, hollow eyes imploring in desperation. His trembling fingers stretched out trying to reach him but could not break through the barrier of the mirror.

  Keyes instinctively drew back, then slammed the damp towel against the mirror and turned away as Lorna bolted upward from the bed in a harried quake.

  “Jonathon!”

  “What is it, Lorna?”

  She recoiled with a deep breath.

  “It . . . must have been a bad dream . . . I felt I was falling . . . I . . . Oh, Jonathon, come put your arms around me . . . hold me.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Lorna was still in a deep sleep, and Keyes had hardly slept at all.

  He decided to go outside and think things over but was surprised to see Caleb, Joseph, and Deliverance having an early breakfast served by Bethia.

  “Good morning, m’boy,” Caleb puffed between sips of coffee. “Just enjoying a brief repast before another day’s work. Please join us.” He pointed to the empty chair next to Deliverance. “Have some breakfast.”

  “Just some coffee, thank you,” Keyes sat and was already aware of the exotic mixture of fragrances and wax that was ever present when he was near her.

  “Did you have that little talk with your wife?”

  “What?”

  “About the first sermon . . .”

  “Oh, yes . . . it looks like we’ll be staying just until then.”

  “Very good. I was sure she’d agree. How is Lorna feeling?”

  “She, uh, has her ups and downs, but,” Keyes was hesitant about saying more.

  “Well, I’ve got an idea about what will make her feel better.”

  “What’s that, Caleb?”

  “Why don’t you, the two of you come by the church site later on? She can get some fresh air—and the sight of what you’ve done, and what we’re doing, I’m sure, will have a salubrious effect on her.”

  “I’m not sure . . .”

  “Well, I am . . . and we’ll have food and refreshment to whet her appetite . . . and yours, too, something besides coffee.”

  Caleb pointed with his pipe at Keyes’s cup as Bethia poured.

  Overnight Keyes had begun to have ambivalent feelings about many things . . . about what had happened . . . and what might happen.

  He did his utmost not to reveal to Caleb, Joseph, and Deliverance the shadow of doubt that had slowly crept into his thinking about this place . . . and these people—people who had saved his life and Lorna’s, and since then, had been so helpful . . . gentle people . . . devout . . . caring . . . concerned . . . ingenuous . . . and so burdened with near calamity—until his arrival . . . and what a difference that had made in San Melas and its citizens . . . and what a difference it all had made on him. But at the same time, he thought of Reverend Mason, how tirelessly he had endeavored to do what he could among those who were facing death on battlefields, without concern for his own safety . . . and later, in hospitals among the maimed, day after day and night after night, at their bedside . . . at his bedside, with words of comfort and hope . . . this man who had changed him from a would-be lawyer, then soldier . . . and then gave motive for him to become as much like that minister as was possible . . . and here at San Melas he had been given, heaven
knows how, or why, the spark to bring them light in their darkest hour . . . as Caleb had reminded him, with the “miracle” of young Ethan, the rescue of Deliverance from that snake-frenzied pinto, and the resurgence of an abandoned mine . . . was it all a coincidence . . . or was there now some of the goodness and strength inside him, borrowed from Reverend Mason, that helped him reach out and be of remedy to those in distress . . . and yet, there was a shadow . . . the image in the mirror and at the lake, unseen by anyone else, and meant only for him . . . an image of dismay . . . and was it some unexplainable warning of danger here in San Melas . . . and what about the chanting, candlelit masked figures, the dead owl near Deliverance’s shed that Lorna had seen? Keyes had said he believed her. Didn’t he still believe her?

  For all their goodness, piety, and virtue, there, somehow, seemed to be a gossamer veil beyond which he could not see or understand.

  Yes, somehow there was an ambivalence.

  Deliverance passed him the sugar.

  CHAPTER 40

  “You didn’t eat much of your breakfast, Lorna.”

  “I didn’t feel very hungry.”

  “Well, maybe Caleb is right.”

  “About what?”

  “You know they’ve started to rebuild the church. The whole town’s pitching in.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Caleb says they’re going to take a little time off out there at the site, with food and refreshment . . . a sort of picnic, and he thinks it would be a good idea if we, both you and I, come out for a little while . . . we’ll find you a nice shady spot . . . you can enjoy the fresh air and as he says, maybe it’ll whet your appetite.”

  “A picnic?”

  “Sort of.”

  She smiled.

  “Remember the last picnic we were on, Jonathon . . .”

  “With General Custer and Libbie . . . he was feeling a little out of sorts.”

  “A little? He was ready to fight the war all over again . . . or any other war.”

  “Damn it, Captain, I envy you . . .”

  “General . . .”

  “I’m not a general anymore. I’m a lieutenant colonel without a command . . . rotting away.”