Prairie Storm

by Catherine Palmer

  “You deserve it.” At his rough touch, she shrank into herself, fearful of the outcome yet determined to have her say. If the man became violent, she would survive as she always had. She would retreat to the protection of the quiet place inside herself, to the golden solace of her music.

  “You believe the Bible’s words without testing them,” she went on. “You put your trust in your own righteousness. You think you know everything, but you know nothing. You don’t even know who Jesus Christ was.”

  “Who was he?” In the sky overhead, the storm clouds had rolled away, and Eli’s blue eyes shone in the moonlight. His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Lily, who is Jesus Christ?”

  She sucked in a breath. “If you don’t know—”

  “I know. I don’t always follow him the way I ought. I make a lot of mistakes. You’re right that I judge folks when I shouldn’t, and I say things without thinking. But I know Jesus Christ. I know what he’s done inside me. I know how he changed my life. If you see a bunch of mistakes being made by a big ol’ fool, you can figure it’s probably me. If you see love and healing and hope and freedom and peace, that’s Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her head. “Sorry I lashed out at you. Sometimes you just make me furious.”

  “You make me so mad I could spit nails.”

  A smile tickled the corner of Lily’s mouth. “At least you’re honest about that, Preacher-man.”

  “I’m honest about everything, even though sometimes it means I put my foot right into my mouth. And the honest truth is, I don’t want to look for your friend Beatrice.”

  “Why not? She knows this town. She can help us.”

  “What if she lures you back into her—”

  “Den of iniquity? You make her sound like a spider.”

  Elijah studied the reins in his hand, and Lily realized that her description fit the man’s opinion of her friend perfectly. To the preacher, Beatrice Waldowski was a spider. A poisonous insect. A venomous instrument of the devil, determined to inflict her evil on the lives of everyone she touched.

  “It’s because of you, Lily,” he said finally. “I don’t want to lose you. I know Samuel needs you. But I … well, I like having you around, too. We’re kind of a team, you know, with the baby. Hearing you sing always lifts my spirits. And I enjoy watching you take care of Sam.”

  “And she’s purtier than a shiny new tin whistle,” Mother Margaret finally spoke up from the back of the wagon. “Brother Elijah, I’d sit here all night under this wet tent and listen to you work up to tellin’ Miz Lily how you really feel about her. But I figure you might go on for hours before you get it right, and in the meantime, you’ll probably make her mad two or three more times. A body can only take so much fussin’ and makin’ up. Now, I want to get me some supper and some sleep. We gonna head over to the den of iniquity or not?”

  Lily chuckled at the old woman’s blunt question. Leave it to Mother Margaret to get to the point. Elijah was staring into the back of the wagon as though he’d forgotten they had another rider.

  “I’d prefer to camp by the river,” he said.

  “And sleep under this drippin’ ol’ tent? On these wet blankets? With nothin’ to eat but Eva’s soggy biscuits? Please, Brother Elijah, have a heart. Don’t you know how old I am? I’m real old. Now, I got me a son lives here in Topeka, I recall, but I won’t be able to locate him without a good bit of askin’ around. We was slaves, don’t you know, and all my children but Ben was sold out from under me. When my little Moses was ten years old, he was bought by a man from Topeka, and no tellin’ what become of him since. So I reckon I better wait until tomorrow to start lookin’. Meanwhile, I expect the Crescent Moon Hotel has got itself some dry beds and a pot of soup a-boilin’ on the stove. Kansas is a free state, so let’s see what we can find there.”

  Elijah tugged on his Stetson brim and gave the reins a flick. “All right, Mother Margaret,” he said. “Publicans and sinners, here we come.”

  Although Topeka, Kansas, had a reputation as a sleepy little cattle town, for Lily the place was steeped in sorrow. It was in Topeka that her daughter had been captured in the deadly grip of diphtheria. It was here that her precious baby had been ripped from her heart and buried in an unmarked grave. It was here that her husband and his employer had died. In Topeka, Lily felt, her own life had ended as well.

  Now as she huddled beside Elijah Book, she had the impression that she was traveling in a landscape of hell. One muddy road turned into another. One rickety clapboard house followed another. Hollow-eyed children stared at the wagon through waxed-paper windowpanes. Even though the moon shone overhead, darkness crept around each corner and lurked under every porch. Dogs slinked across the streets, the hair on their spines lifted in wariness. Turn after turn led the wagon down narrow alleys and across vacant, treeless lots.

  Now and then, Elijah called out to someone to ask directions to the Crescent Moon Hotel. “Turn left,” came one response. “Two streets down,” came another. “Turn right and then right again. I think that hotel’s near the Boar’s Breath Tavern. You’d better check with the night watchman on the corner up ahead.”

  Lily tried not to shiver, but exhaustion and fear crept into her bones. She wanted to pray again, as she had in the doctor’s house. Her heart longed to cry out for help, guidance, and safety. But she was too wary to venture a prayer. She didn’t want to trust a God who had let her down so many times before.

  Leaning her head on Elijah’s shoulder, she gave herself to the swaying, creaking wagon. Why hadn’t God helped her when she’d cried out to him all those times when her father’s uncontrolled rage poured over her? Why hadn’t God saved her? She’d been such a little girl, so thin, so frightened, so helpless.

  God will protect you, the preacher had announced in his sermons at church. God will protect you, the Sunday school teachers had assured their pupils. Lily had clung to that promise. But God hadn’t protected her. Without warning, her father had struck out at his only child, and his fury had blackened her eyes, striped the backs of her legs, jarred her skull, cracked her ribs. Philadelphia’s finest doctors puzzled over Lily’s series of baffling injuries. Her teachers labeled their precocious student “clumsy.” Her friends wondered why so often she could not come out to play—and after a while, they stopped asking.

  Until she was sixteen, Lily had thought it was all her fault. She was a bad girl. So naughty. Then one day her father was whipping her after the rehearsal for his orchestra’s rendition of Handel’s Messiah had gone badly. A giant wave of realization washed over her. No, she thought, I do not deserve this beating. My mother will not save me, and God will not protect me. So I’ll find a way to take care of myself. And she had.

  “You know,” Elijah said suddenly, “I may never find that hotel, but I’ve had a good chance to do some thinking out here on the streets of Topeka. And here’s what I think. You’re right, Lily. You’re right that I ought to put my trust in the words that come right out of the Bible. Not what some preacher tells me, or what I heard some religious person say, or what I might think sounds right and good. I ought to believe the Bible, nothing else. And that means I need to know the Scriptures as well as I know my own name. I need to learn them—the way you have.”

  Lily focused on a lamplit building just down the street. “Crescent Moon Hotel and Saloon,” a sign read. Almost there, and yet she must know one thing.

  “Does the Bible promise that God will protect us?” she asked Elijah. “Because I don’t—”

  “There it is,” he cried out, giving her a brisk hug. “Hey, Mother Margaret, it’s the Crescent Moon. We found it.” He turned to Lily. “Of course God protects us. Look right there at that sign. He brought us here, didn’t he?”

  “Did he?” she mouthed, but Elijah was busy reining the tired mule and setting the wagon brake. Had God promised to protect her? Did the Bible she had read again and again offer even a single promise of God’s abiding shelter at all times throu
gh all things?

  Lily sat on the wagon, numb with confusion. Preachers had said it. Teachers had said it. Elijah Book had said it. But had God said it?

  And if God didn’t promise protection, what good was he? What use was trust in an all-powerful Creator who wouldn’t defend his creation?

  “Let me have that little fellow,” Elijah said, raising his arms toward Lily. “If we’re going to walk straight into the valley of the shadow of death, I’d better protect my boy.”

  Elijah tucked Samuel into his arms as Lily had taught him. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me. The familiar psalm slipped into Lily’s mind. A loving father protects his children, she thought, watching Elijah make a fuss over the little bundle he carried. A loving father keeps his children safe.

  But bad things happened to God’s children all the time. Did that mean he didn’t love them? Or was God like her own father—outwardly perfect as he put on displays of his own brilliance and talent, yet privately inflicting merciless punishment upon the helpless?

  Lily realized that Elijah was holding out his free arm to her. She took his hand and slid down into his embrace. The preacher held her for just a moment too long before he moved away. “Mother Margaret,” he called. “You planning to come out of that tent?”

  “Go check if they let black folks come into the hotel,” she returned. “’Cause if I’m not welcome, I’ll take my business somewhere else.”

  “Serve ’em right, too,” Elijah said. “Come on, Lily. Let’s go look for your friend.”

  “I trust you’ll restrain your tongue from referring to Beatrice as evil incarnate and this hotel as a den of iniquity.”

  Eli stopped at the steps to the front porch and took Lily’s hand. “Even though I wish you wouldn’t walk back into Miss Waldowski’s life, I won’t try to stop you. You make your own choices. But if you need me, Lily, I’ll be right beside you.”

  As he turned to climb the steps onto the porch, Lily gathered her shawl around her shoulders. The chill of realization filtered down her spine. The preachers and teachers were wrong. Elijah Book was wrong. God had never promised to protect her. He didn’t promise to protect anyone.

  “Yea, though I walk through the valley …”

  That’s right, Lily, you will walk in paths of danger and places of harm.

  “I will fear no evil …”

  But you don’t have to be afraid.

  “For thou art with me …”

  I’ll be right beside you. All the way.

  Elijah sat on a bench in the lobby of the Crescent Moon the following afternoon and waited for Lily and Mother Margaret to emerge from their room. After hours of searching and questioning strangers, Lily believed she had tracked her friend to a small boardinghouse at the edge of Topeka. When she finished nursing Samuel, she and the others would go in search of Beatrice Waldowski.

  With growing discomfort, the preacher watched businessmen and cowboys file into the saloon situated just down the hall from the lobby. His Stetson held loosely in his hands, he turned the brim around and around. Though he tried to calm himself, he could almost hear the thunder of his heartbeat in his chest.

  Preach to them, the steady voice inside his soul commanded. Preach, Elijah Book. Lead the lost to the light of salvation. Guide the wicked onto the path of righteousness.

  How could he just sit idly by and allow these unrepentant and ignorant souls to continue in the darkness of their wicked ways? The men had no idea that Jesus could make a difference in their lives—and they would never hear the message of Christ’s sacrifice and love unless somebody told them.

  Eli had to do it. He had to preach.

  After a quick search for his black leather Bible in the saddlebag beside him, he realized the valued book was missing. Distressed but unwilling to let the moment pass, he climbed onto the bench where he’d been sitting. “‘The Lord is my light and my salvation,’” he cried out in a loud voice, “‘whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?’”

  A passerby stopped and stared. A little boy in a sailor suit ran out of the dining room to see what the commotion was about. His mother quickly followed. The hotel clerk popped up from behind his desk.

  “Last night,” Eli addressed them, “I wandered the streets of this town without light, without direction, without security. I confess to you that I stumbled in the darkness. I lost my way many times. I shivered in dread of the unknown.”

  He spotted three men ambling through the lobby toward the saloon. “Do you gentlemen wander in darkness on this sunny Kansas afternoon?” he called to them. “Do you believe the fleeting pleasure of strong drink will bring you lasting happiness? Do you mistake the passing fancies of a loose woman for the security of true love?”

  “Shut yer trap, cowboy!” one of the men called back. “Take yer preachin’ to church.”

  “I used to ride the cattle trails just like you boys,” Eli went on, extending his open hand in their direction, “and I worked hard night and day. Long hours, sore muscles, and nothing but a bedroll to call home. I thought I deserved the light refreshments and the sweet-smelling fancies in the towns I went through. But they were empty pleasures. All empty!”

  “Sir,” the clerk said, approaching from behind his desk, “we have a policy against solicitation in the—”

  “Jesus Christ gave my life meaning,” Eli continued, searching his mind for a verse he had tried to memorize a few weeks back. “‘Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness.… Woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink—’”

  “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a stiff belt of whisky, Preacher,” one of the men chimed in.

  “Let him be,” his companion said. “He’s a-preachin’ the Word of God.”

  “Sir, would you please step down from the bench?” the hotel clerk pleaded.

  “I’m no different from any of you,” Eli went on, ignoring the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily and Mother Margaret edging warily down the staircase. Their faces registered surprise. “I thought I could be the trail boss of my own life, but I knew I was getting nowhere fast. Then I read the words of truth I’d been looking for: ‘Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near: Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him.’”

  Eli focused on the gathering crowd, but his thoughts were on Lily. “God loves you,” he said, “and he wants to live inside you. He wants to wash away the sins that have stained your soul. He wants to make you as white as snow. If you’ll let him, the Lord will lead you onto his path. He’ll direct your steps. He’ll fill your life with joy and peace. Will you ask him in? Sinners, will you give your heart to Jesus Christ?”

  Closing his eyes, Eli began to pray aloud the prayer that filled his heart. Pleading with God, he begged for the souls of the lost men and women in the saloon down the hall. He prayed for the lost in the lobby. He prayed for the lost on the street outside the hotel. “Open their hearts. Give them strength to stand up. Fill them with love. Amen and amen,” he said, lifting his head. The floor around the bench where he stood was filled with kneeling men and women. Some wept. Others clasped their hands in prayer.

  For a moment, Eli was stunned. What had happened? He’d only been speaking aloud the words inside his heart—words that demanded an outlet. But God had used his simple, disjointed message to touch these people. He stared in confusion. Again and again, this happened when he preached. People heard the Word of the Lord. People responded. People repented.

  Oh, Father, what am I supposed to do now? I’m no good at this part. I don’t know how to touch them one by one. I can’t …

  Lily was teaching him how to love. He could do it. Climbing down from the bench, Eli knelt on the floor among the people. Slipping an arm around the ma
n beside him, he instructed all of them to pray with him if they wanted to invite Jesus Christ to become Lord of their lives.

  Repeating the words of his own repentance not so many months before, Eli murmured, “Lord, I know I’ve walked my own road for too many years. I know I’ve done wrong to myself and others. My biggest wrong is keeping you out of my heart. Please forgive my sins.”

  “Yes, Lord,” the man beside him said softly.

  “I believe Jesus Christ is God,” Eli went on. “I believe Jesus came to earth and died in my place to take away my sin. I believe he came to life again after his death, and I know he sent the Holy Spirit to live inside me. Take me now, Father. Take my heart, my soul, my whole life. I give myself to you. Teach me to walk in your path. Amen.”

  “Mercy, mercy, mercy,” Mother Margaret said in a low voice as the crowd rose and gathered around Elijah. “Hallelujah and amen.”

  Some people shook the preacher’s hand; others tried to press money on him. Elijah refused the gifts, giving each person a hug instead. This wasn’t half as bad as he’d thought. In fact, he kind of liked touching folks, speaking an encouraging word and seeing their eyes light up.

  “Go find yourselves a church tomorrow,” he called after the dispersing crowd. “And get a new set of friends, you hear?”

  “What have you been up to, Brother Elijah?” the old woman said, folding her arms over her chest. “We can’t hardly leave you alone for a minute without the gospel a-comin’ right up out of you and a-spillin’ over onto everybody.”

  Eli gave Mother Margaret a sheepish grin. “I hope I didn’t keep you ladies waiting too long. I just got to feeling real unhappy about that saloon down the hall.”

  “They’re not feeling too happy about you, either,” Lily said, nodding in the direction of a pair of angry men storming down the hall toward them.

  “You, sir!” one of them called, pointing at Elijah. “What do you mean by drivin’ away our afternoon’s trade? We lost half our customers when you went to speechifyin’.”