All My Tomorrows

by Al Lacy

  Johnny looked up at the majestic bird and wished he was free like the eagle. Seconds later, it sailed silently out of sight.

  The silence around them was unbroken now, and a soft breeze, laden with the incense of pine, touched their faces.

  Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud roar inside the cave, followed by three gunshots. A startled Johnny Smith jerked in the saddle, grabbing the pommel. Three more shots came from the cave while Shad Gatlin was swinging out of the saddle, pulling his gun. He headed toward the cave, calling over his shoulder, “You stay put, kid!”

  Just as Gatlin reached the cave, Bart Caddo came out, gun in hand. Smoke was drifting upward from the muzzle. “I ran into a black female bear in there, Shad. She was way back at the end of the cave. She’s dead now.”

  Gatlin shoved his gun back in its holster. “Well, let’s drag her carcass outta there. I ain’t wantin’ to sleep in there with a dead bear.”

  “Me, neither. She ain’t terribly big. Won’t be hard for the two of us to get her outta there.”

  Gatlin turned and looked at Johnny. “Okay, kid, get down and come to the cave with us.”

  There was a fearful look on the boy’s face as he slid from the saddle and walked toward the outlaws.

  When they moved inside, Gatlin pointed to a spot just inside the cave’s mouth. “Siddown right there, kid. And don’t you move.”

  Instantly, Johnny dropped to the floor of the cave and sat with his back against the rugged rock wall. He watched as the two men moved back into the shadows and could barely see them as they grabbed the dead bear by the hind feet and dragged her toward the cave’s mouth. Johnny focused on the black ball of fur as they dragged her past him, noting that her eyes were wide open in death. The outlaws dragged the bear outside and left the carcass under a tall spruce tree.

  When they returned to the cave, Gatlin was carrying the rope he had used to bind Johnny up each night.

  “Okay, kid, lie down right there so’s I can tie you up. We’ve got to go out and find firewood so we can cook supper.”

  Johnny obeyed by stretching out on the dirt floor, intimidation showing in his eyes.

  While Gatlin was cinching up the rope on his wrists and ankles, he said, “If you ever try to escape, kid, I promise I’ll kill you for sure. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’ll untie you when we get back, so you can eat.”

  Twilight was settling over the mountains as the outlaws left the cave and vanished from Johnny’s sight. Lying there, he thought of his father. He told himself if his father was a western lawman, he would come to his rescue. Justin Smith would find a way to get the drop on the bad men and free his son.

  Tears filled the boy’s eyes. His lips quivered. “But this can’t happen because Dad lies in a cold, dark grave in the cemetery back in Manhattan.” He sniffed and choked on his tears. “Oh, Dad, I miss you so much! I miss you too, Mom. Why did both of you have to die?”

  Johnny’s tears had dried up by the time he heard the outlaws coming toward the cave. It was now almost totally dark.

  Gatlin and Caddo laid half of the broken tree limbs on the ground at the center of the cave’s mouth, and laid the rest of it close by for future use. They pulled dried pine needles and cones from their pockets and set them close to the wood. Gatlin pulled out a match, struck it, and put the flame on the needles and cones. Flames flared up instantly, throwing light all around the cave.

  Gatlin stood over Johnny and laughed. “Well whattya know! You’re still here, eh, kid? I figured while we were gone, that she-bear’s mate would find her dead body over there under that tree and come in here ready to rip up whoever was in the cave.”

  Caddo chuckled. “Yeah, I figured all we’d find of you was your clean bones.”

  Johnny looked up at both men grimly.

  The outlaws had stolen food, tin cups, coffee, coffeepot, and a skillet from a house they had burglarized in the small town of Florissant, just west of Pike’s Peak. They went outside to the horses and took the goods from the saddlebags. While Johnny looked on from the floor of the cave, they started cooking supper.

  Soon the sound of hot meat was crackling in the skillet while Shad Gatlin leaned over it, stirring the meat around. Bart Caddo was busy with the small coffeepot.

  Johnny knew the time planned by Gatlin to kill him had to be drawing near. The fear within him was like a worm crawling through his brain. Gatlin had warned him not to beg for his life anymore, but the twelve-year-old boy could not hold back. He drew a shuddering breath. “Mr. Gatlin?”

  Still stirring the crackling meat, Gatlin swung his gaze to Johnny. “Yeah?”

  “Won’t you please let me go? You and Mr. Caddo are safe now. If there were lawmen on your trail, they would have shown up by now. You don’t need me as a hostage anymore.”

  Gatlin and Caddo exchanged glances by the firelight, then Gatlin grinned at the boy. “You’re right, kid. We don’t need you as a hostage anymore. Bart and I were talkin’ about it when we were gatherin’ the firewood. If that lame-brained Sheriff Clay Bostin was on our trail, he’d have been here before now.”

  Gatlin left the skillet on the fire and rose to his feet. Stepping to where Johnny lay, he looked down at him. “Bostin told me I was through killin’. Well, he was wrong.”

  Johnny’s mouth went dry as Gatlin pulled his gun.

  The outlaw chuckled dryly. “We need to get rid of you, all right, kid. You’re eatin’ food Bart and I need for ourselves. Not only that, but one of us has to have you in our saddle all the time we’re ridin’.”

  Gatlin snapped the hammer back.

  Johnny’s eyes widened and the firelight cast a gray luminescence on his face.

  Gatlin said icily, “I’ll just kill you now, and get it over with.”

  Still holding the coffeepot, Bart Caddo was enjoying the terror he saw in Johnny’s eyes as Gatlin aimed the muzzle at the boy’s trembling head.

  Suddenly a voice from the darkness outside barked, “Drop the gun, Gatlin, or you’re dead!”

  Both outlaws, as well as a terrified Johnny Smith, looked into the darkness toward the sound of the voice. The owner of the voice took a step into the vague light of the fire, which showed them Sheriff Clay Bostin standing just outside the cave with a cocked Colt.45 in each hand.

  In a quick desperate move, Gatlin brought his gun up, swinging the muzzle toward the sheriff. Bostin’s right-hand gun spit fire. Gatlin buckled, dropped his gun, and while he was falling, Bart Caddo dropped the coffeepot and whipped out his revolver.

  Before he could bring it into play, Bostin’s left-hand gun roared, and Caddo went down like a rock, never to move again.

  Seeing that Gatlin was still breathing, Bostin kicked his gun deep into the darkness of the cave, then holstered both guns and knelt beside the boy. “Johnny, you all right?”

  A relieved Johnny Smith found his voice. “Yes, sir, Sheriff. I’m all right. How’d you know my name?”

  “The Children’s Aid Society sponsors told me.”

  “Oh.”

  Bostin saw the relief displayed on the boy’s face as he began untying him. When the knots were loose, Bostin pulled the ropes away. “Can you get up?”

  “Yes, sir.” And with that, Johnny sprang to his feet, rubbing his wrists and running his gaze to Shad Gatlin.

  Bostin took a step toward the outlaw and looked down at him.

  Gatlin’s face was a twisted mass of pain as he stared up at the sheriff with glassy eyes. He choked, then ejected a vile oath, cursing Bostin. “One … more second … and I would have … killed the … kid.”

  “I told you that you were through killing.”

  Gatlin swore at him again, and with that, he breathed out his last breath. His body went limp and his head fell to the side, his eyes frozen open.

  Bostin leaned over and forced the eyelids shut. “Bad thing, Gatlin, going out into eternity cursing.”

  The sheriff turned and looked at the boy. “I’m
sorry you had to witness two men being killed, Johnny.”

  Johnny looked up at the tall lawman and met his gaze. “It’s better than what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up exactly when you did, sir.” At that instant, tears welled up in Johnny’s eyes. “Thank you for staying on our trail and for saving my life.”

  Bostin moved to the boy and folded him in his arms. “I knew Gatlin would kill you once he thought he was safe, Johnny. I had to catch up to him before it was too late. I wanted you to have all your tomorrows.”

  Bostin’s last words touched Johnny deeply. He eased back in the sheriff’s arms, wiped tears from his cheeks, and looked up into Bostin’s eyes. “All my tomorrows. I never heard it put like that before, Sheriff.”

  Bostin grinned. “You have a right to live out the life that God gave you. I’m just glad He let me get here in time so I could have a part in making sure it didn’t end tonight.”

  Johnny swallowed hard. “Me too.”

  Releasing the boy from his arms, the sheriff went to the fire and removed the skillet from the flames. “Johnny, I’m going to remove these corpses from the cave, then you and I can eat supper.”

  Johnny watched while the sheriff carried the lifeless bodies of the outlaws out of the cave a few yards to the side, where he laid them down and covered them completely with rocks.

  He returned, and the two of them sat down on the floor of the cave close to the fire to eat the supper that the outlaws had prepared. Before they began, Clay Bostin said, “Johnny, I always thank the Lord for the food before I eat. I also want to thank Him for letting me get here before those outlaws took your life.”

  Johnny let a thin smile curve his lips. “Yes, sir.”

  When Bostin closed his prayer, they began to eat. “Johnny, how did you become an orphan? Did both of your parents die at the same time?”

  “No, sir.”

  Johnny told about his mother’s death over a year ago, then explained how his policeman father was killed when he shot it out with two bank robbers. He made sure Bostin knew that the robbers were killed too.

  Bostin spoke his condolences in the deaths of both Johnny’s parents. “I can tell you carry a great deal of pride in what your father was.”

  “You’re right, Sheriff. Since I was quite small, I wanted to be a policeman when I grew up, but … well, I had thoughts about being something else when Dad was killed in the line of duty.” He paused and let another smile curve his lips. “But now that I have seen you in action, I just might become a lawman here in the West when I grow up.”

  “Johnny, that would be good. The West will be in need of good lawmen when you grow into adulthood even more than it is now, the way the population is increasing.”

  “That’s something to think about, sir.” Johnny paused, then said, “Sheriff Bostin, when we get back to Colorado Springs, I need to somehow make contact with the Children’s Aid Society in New York so they will know I’m all right, and they can pick me up when the next orphan train comes through. I need to go on until some man and his wife choose me so they can be my foster parents and take me into their home.”

  “I’ll have you back in Colorado Springs in three or four days. I’ll help you make contact with the Society by wire.”

  “That’ll really be swell, sir. I appreciate it very much.”

  “Glad to help.”

  When supper was over, Bostin added wood to the fire. “Johnny, I’ll be right back. I have to go out and get my Bible out of the saddlebags. I always read my Bible before going to bed.”

  Johnny blinked. “Oh. All right.”

  The sheriff was back within a short time, and as he sat down beside Johnny, the boy looked at the Bible. “I’ve only seen the inside of a Bible a few times in my life.”

  Bostin smiled. “Well, you’re welcome to read this one anytime you want. How about right now, though, we read it together?”

  “I’d like that, sir. I’ve always wondered about a lot of things that people have told me are in the Bible.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What, for instance?”

  “Well, when people die, they don’t come back from the dead. But I’ve been told that in the Bible, God’s prophets raised people from the dead, and so did Jesus Christ.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And they say that Jesus even came back from the dead.”

  “He sure did.”

  “How could that be?”

  “It was done by the power of God, Johnny. It is God who gives life in the first place. If He wants to give life back to someone who had died, He sure can do it.”

  Johnny pondered those words for a moment. “Well, that does make sense, sir. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I guess God can do anything He wants, huh?”

  “He sure can.”

  Johnny frowned. “Something else, Sheriff.”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “I have a hard time believing there’s a place called hell where people burn forever.”

  “God says there is.” He opened the Bible. “Let me show you.”

  Bostin turned to Psalm 9. He angled the Bible toward the fire so Johnny could see it. “Read me verse 17.”

  Johnny focused on it. “ ‘The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God.’ Who’s the wicked, Sheriff?”

  “People who never receive the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour.”

  “Oh.”

  Bostin flipped to Isaiah 14. “Johnny, do you know who Lucifer is?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do you know who Satan is?”

  “The devil.”

  “Right. Well, when Satan was first created, God gave him the name Lucifer. Here in this passage, Lucifer has sinned against God. Look what God says to him in verse 15. Read it to me.”

  Johnny licked his lips. “ ‘Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.’ ”

  “Now keep that in mind,” said Bostin, turning to the New Testament “Look what Jesus said here in Matthew chapter 25, Johnny. Before I have you read it, let me explain that when Lucifer was cast out of heaven, there was a great number of angels who took his side and went with him.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. In this passage, Jesus is talking about the day of the last judgment. He will have the saved people at His right hand, and the lost people at His left hand. He speaks of Himself in verse 41 and what He is going to say to those who are lost. Read it to me.”

  “Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.’ ”

  “You see, Johnny, God didn’t create hell for human beings, He created it for the devil and his angels. But when sinners refuse to come to God for salvation His way, He has nowhere else to put them. You see that lost human beings are going to the same hell. And what kind of fire did Jesus say it is?”

  Johnny looked back at the verse. “Everlasting fire.”

  “Mm-hmm. Now look down at verse 46. Jesus says of the lost people, ‘And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.’ What kind of punishment is it?”

  “Everlasting, sir.”

  “What kind of fire is it, according to what Jesus said in verse 41?”

  “Everlasting.”

  “That means both the fire and the punishment will go on forever, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There are many other passages of Scripture that tell of the burning hell where people go when they die if they die without Jesus Christ as their Saviour, Johnny, but I think for the moment, this is enough for you to see that there is a burning place called hell that actually exists.”

  Johnny nodded. “Yes, sir. I believe it.”

  “Good. The next few days as we travel, I’ll show you more on the subject. We’ll also look at passages that discuss the wrath of God against sin. Right now, I want to show you some other things
.”

  Before they began to read more, Bostin could see that the Scriptures Johnny had already seen had stamped a deep impression on him. He then took the boy to passages that deal with salvation and what Jesus did on the cross for sinners in His death, burial, and resurrection, and had him read them aloud to him.

  Since this was all new to Johnny, Bostin stopped there and told him they would read more tomorrow night. He told Johnny they would have prayer, and while he was praying, the sheriff asked God to help Johnny to understand the gospel that he might be saved. He also prayed that the Lord would place Johnny in the home where He wanted him.

  Both those requests touched Johnny’s heart.

  During the next two days, Clay and Johnny talked much about salvation while Johnny rode the horse Shad Gatlin had stolen. The other stolen horse followed as led by the sheriff from his saddle.

  On both nights, the two read Scriptures on the subject of God’s wrath against sin, salvation, heaven, and hell. The sheriff discussed them with the boy.

  At the end of the third day, they were within less than three hours’ ride from Colorado Springs when they stopped and made camp for the night. By this time, the Holy Spirit had done His work in Johnny’s heart, and when it was Bible reading time beside the campfire, Johnny told the sheriff he wanted to be saved. Clay Bostin had the joy of leading the boy to Jesus.

  After Johnny had gone to sleep in Shad Gatlin’s bedroll, Sheriff Clay Bostin lay awake in his own bedroll, praising the Lord for Johnny’s salvation.

  As the campfire dwindled, the shadows of the pines closed in darker and darker upon the circle of fading light. A cool wind fanned the embers, whipped up flakes of white ashes, and moaned through the trees. Clay looked up and marveled at the beauty of God’s handiwork above him. The sky was a massive black dome spangled with twinkling white stars.

  While studying the dazzling heavens, Clay thought about the strange stirring that had been going on in his heart since before he and Johnny had started their trip back to Colorado Springs. The stirring had only grown stronger since then.