One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, ch 80 by Wayne Fowler |
In the last part Ben helped organize a militia, a vigilance committee. Their first mass meeting was to be in Juneau onboard a ship. Ben stood guard, not wanting a leadership role. He killed Soapy Smith in a shootout, but took a fatal slug. Friends took Ben home to Beth. ^^^^^^^^^ Beth had no words of admonishment, only words of love. She knew full well that Ben was God’s property. Still, she prayed constantly for Ben’s healing, half begging, if silently, for Ben to work a miracle on himself. Billy brought over a midwife who passed as Skagway’s best medical person. She was unable to do anything but dress the two wounds, the entry and the exit sites of Soapy’s shot. Shaking her head, she told Beth that the liver was probably beyond repair. Ben was in and out of consciousness every few hours. “Beth,” he said, startling her from a nap at his side. “I saw heaven. You know I’ve been there before.” Having just awakened Beth half shouted, her voice far louder than intended. “Yes, Ben. You saw your father.” “I saw Jesus. At least I think it was him. It was a man with his arms stretched out.” Beth sobbed, but quickly held them back. There would be time for crying later… after. “Beth, it’s beautiful.” He was turned to her, trying to will her to understand. “Ben, I’ve been praying. And all I see is you in Jesus’ arms.” She choked again. “Ben I can’t go … I can’t think of going on … Ben, would it be so awful if I took some of you? Kept something of you? Would it?” Ben bore into her eyes, understanding what she was asking. “I think God would approve, Beth, but …” Beth let out a bursting sigh. The next time Ben lost consciousness, Beth put water on the stove for cleaning herself and Ben, both. She knew that it wasn’t necessary, but she ritualistically bathed herself, and then Ben. The affair was going to bless her, and bless God, as well. Ben Persons would not die without progeny. When Ben next woke, she spoon fed him as much nourishment as he would take, five small spoons full of sweetened oatmeal and as many ounces of milk as Ben would take. Ben knew that he was naked. He watched Beth unclothe herself before him. She had never been so beautiful. She helped him become ready, understanding that the marriage bed was undefiled. As she felt herself ready for him, Beth pulled back the cover and did what she knew to receive Ben’s seed. There was no question that the one time would suffice. Ben’s gasp, while at first concerned her, thinking of his injury, quickly turned to joy, seeing his smile, and his eyes. “I love you, my beautiful bride.” Ben’s voice barely made it to her ears. Beth remained with him, eventually sliding to his side where she remained with her arm around him until his next sleep. Beth offered a prayer of thanksgiving before going about her chores. +++ While grateful for the visitors who came to say good-bye to Ben, Beth was doubly thankful for her time alone with him. She was fine with the social faux pas that none brought food, as would be the custom in Santa Rosa. But none of these well-wishers were married. She properly thanked them for coming and courteously allowed them moments with Ben, and then graciously ushered them out. “You know Beth, I’ve been seeing pictures, glimpses of my life. They’ve been flashing, first this one, and then another.” Ben was surprisingly alert. He seemed healthier than since he first came home. But Beth knew better than to have false hope. His injured side looked worse by the hour. And his sweating was non-stop, though he didn’t complain of fever. “I just saw this beautiful girl. A Chicago girl that my landlady tried to fix me with. You know Beth, all that beauty… she might have been the most beautiful of all the world.” Beth was ready for Ben to move on from the girl’s beauty. She was beginning to feel less than pretty and to harbor an unwelcome sentiment. “But you know, Beth, without love it is all vanity and flesh. There is no true beauty without the kind of love I’ve shared with you.” Beth suddenly completely understood God’s love for humanity. She accepted Ben’s total and complete love. +++ It had been seven days since Ben was shot. His condition continued to worsen, his periods of being conscious fewer and shorter in length. Beth relished his wakefulness, but began to begrudge God’s delay in taking him on to his reward. “You know how people have said that they saw their entire lives flash before their eyes just before they died, Beth?” Beth’s lips quivered, expecting Ben’s next breath to be his last. “Do you remember when we worked that timber outfit where they all loved your biscuits?” Beth smiled. “Well, the first day, there was an Indian boy stripping limbs off a fallen tree. The ax head flew right off the handle and chopped his little toe right off. He just stood there on top of that log. It was sort of comical. I ran over, picked that toe up off the ground, blew on it and stuck it right back on his foot, praying the name of Jesus loud and clear enough for him to hear me. “Do you know, he asked for the ax head, pointing to it? I handed it to him. After seating it and pounding the handle on the tree trunk, he went right back to work.” “You never told me that story,” Beth said. “Oh, honey, the things I’ve seen God do…” Beth laid her head on Ben’s chest, internally praising God for Ben’s life, and that God allowed her to have him for their brief time together. “One man I met … I heard him beating his knife blade on a rock, or something. It sounded odd, so I tied Red. Red was my horse, a real good one. Ol’ Slim claimed to be hammerin’ out Amazin’ Grace.” Ben chuckled. “We partnered. God showed me where there was some gold and once we proved out the claim, we sold it and I got him to a retirement rest home in Denver. I’d like to know how he fared. “Was another Slim. He was Ol’ Timer, too. Same thing, sort of. A buzzard caught my attention. When I looked hard, I saw an arm and a hand. I shot the buzzard, went up there, and found an old miner stuck in some boulders. Looked like the buzzard already had one of his eyes. He never regained consciousness, but was alive. So I got him to Denver to the same rest home. I remember… I never talked so much in my life … until now, maybe,” he said looking to Beth. “Don’t be silly. Go on, Ben. I want to hear about Slim.” “Well, I talked ‘bout every minute between preaching and praying for him. I talked and talked, hoping he might come around. And if he would, I could make him more comfortable. “I’d sure like to know about both Ol’ Timers.” Beth didn’t have it in her to mention that he could soon ask God, himself.
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Wayne Fowler
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