[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-13-07

 

Luke Hawkins posted the sign on his office, “Closed Until Further Notice,” after representing the cases he had already promised to his clients, and having declined to take on any new cases. His mind was on the lady he intended to marry, he could see her now….long dark hair, brown eyes, slender, with a body that would stir any man, but one that would be his only, come hell or high water! Luke had decided to make it his mission to bring her home, as she should be gracing his arm, entertaining in their home, and having his children, had Mr. Wales did as a father should, and taught her where a woman’s place was in society. Instead, he had indulged her, making her think that a woman was able to do whatever she dreamed of being.

Luke didn’t think he would have any problem getting her back, although he was surprised that she had not already returned. He was eight years her elder, an educated man, respected by many, and was planning to run for office, therefore, he needed her on the campaign trail, not withering away in a God forsaken western town full of riff raff that no lady should be around, trying to make her way as a journalist! He scoffed at the idea, and couldn’t believe that she had left him. It was common knowledge that he was considered a “good catch,” coming from good lineage, wealthy, handsome, standing six feet, black hair, and cool blue eyes that made many women swoon when he looked their way!

He had no qualms about knowing he could out smart any man, as he had worked his way up the ladder, using whatever means necessary to beat his adversary, even if it meant breaking a few laws along the way, or worse if need be.

He hadn’t gotten where he was without learning many tricks, how to spot a person’s weaknesses and use it against them, and he knew his powers of persuasion, as he had used them many times in the courtroom, having never lost a case. He had thought about it carefully and had come to the conclusion that he had treated her as too much of a lady, barely kissing her, knowing she was innocent, and yet not taking into account the passion that ran through her veins. This time he planned to kiss her like he did the woman he frequented at the Gentleman’s Club, making her weak for his touch, and then backing away, causing her to want him even more until she relented. He may even tell her he would stay in Firelands, so she could continue her dream, knowing that would be another way of winning her over and getting her under his control. Once they were married, she would have no choice but to do as he said. He smiled at that thought.

He had no intentions of giving up Clara, as she fulfilled his base needs, but he needed someone of fine breeding to have his children and grace his home. He would enjoy the time he would have with his innocent wife, in fact he was relishing the thought of it, but a lady wouldn’t do the things for him that Clara did. Instead, it would be her wifely duty to make him happy in bed and have their children. He wouldn’t have a wife that would do the things Clara did to satisfy him, for that would not be ladylike at all, he thought smiling, as he left to go see Clara once more before he left for Firelands, already feeling the fire in his loins as he crossed the street.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-12-07

 

Poor old Sam was wound up like an eight day clock.
Only the fact that he was between two lawmen kept him from running, screaming, into the darkness, and diving under the nearest rock.
His eyes darted from nook to cranny, flitted from shadow to shade; his hands shook as if palsied, and his speech, when he dared try to speak, was more a stuttering whisper.
On top of this, he smelled really bad.
The odor of coffee was a most welcome relief. I opened the door to the sheriff's office. Sam and Charlie stepped inside. I took a final look outside, then came in, shut the door.
"Who's there!" came the shout from the cells in back. "Who's out there!"
"Have a set, Sam," I said, "help yourself to the coffee. Careful, she's hot!"
Sam drew up to the stove, still visibly shaking, spreading his hands to the welcoming heat radiating from the cast iron.
With a wink to Charlie, I stepped back into the cell block, hooking the keys as I passed them.
"Your lucky night, Higgins," I said.
"How's that?" he replied belligerently.
"I don't need you any more."
"What?" he half-shouted, clearly puzzled.
"Nope. I held you until I reached a certain point in my investigation, but I've found most of what I needed to know." I sorted through the keys, selected one, shoved it in the cell door lock. "There is just one thing, though."
"And what's that?"
"What can you tell me about Carsey?"
Responses ran across his face as if chasing one another: surprise, disbelief, wariness, then fear. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I never let on. I've been told I have a pretty good poker face. Never won much at poker but I'm told I have the face for it. His face, on the other hand, was decidedly troubled.
"Carsey? Whattaya wanta know about him for?"
I turned the key in the lock, but held the door shut, foot braced against it in case he tried to shove it open. "There are a few things I don't know quite yet. I will find what I'm looking for, but the law looks favorably on those who help it."
"I wouldn't help you if I had to!" he roared.
"Lucky you," I said softly. An old trick I'd learned: the louder the other fellow got, the quieter I got. Puts them off balance. "I don't need your help, there's someone who's actually been quite full of information."
I removed my foot, swung the door open.
"You're free to go."
"About time," he muttered, snatching up his coat.
"Bear this in mind," I said, steel in my voice.
The change stopped him in his tracks.
"I always find what I'm looking for, but it would be easier with your help. The law looks favorably on the man who talks first. Carsey is the last link in the chain. Tell me what I want to know and it will go easier on you."
Higgins' eyes showed fear. His lip was curled in a snarl, but it was the snarl of a coward backed into a corner. He shrugged into his coat and headed for the front door.
Sam looked up at Higgins with the expression of a trapped animal, or someone who'd been caught dead to rights and was guilty as hell.
Higgins stopped, staring daggers at Sam. He looked at Charlie, looked at me.
Charlie let him get a good look at Sam, huddling close to the stove and clutching a blue granite cup of coffee, trying to look smaller. He let Higgins get a good look at him, then stepped between them.
Higgins' eyes, wide, swept to the floor, then to the door, and he reached toward it.
"Remember, now," I said. "You can always talk to me."
SLAM! and Higgins was out the door. His footsteps were hurried as he departed.
"Was that wise, to let him go?"
I smiled, quietly, looking at Sam, then back to Charlie.
"He'll be back," I replied quietly. "He'll want to talk."
Sam looked half sick.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-12-07

 

Under the best of circumstances Sam didn't smell especially good. Linn had told Charlie what he'd discussed with Sam, about confessing and Linn protecting him. He'd also told Charlie that Sam had said that he would never talk. But the Sam he and Linn saw when they walked up to the depot platform was nothing like what Charlie'd been expecting. And the urine soaking his pants and one of his shoes definitely didn't improve his hygiene any.

"Damn, man, you stink," Charlie told him. Sam ignored him and stammered his way through asking Linn for a smoke. Charlie stood back, thinking to himself that there was no way one man could hold that much water. Linn took Sam by the arm and led him from the platform and the three men moved up the street toward the jail.

When the three walked into the jailhouse Higgins was laying on his bunk half asleep but when he saw Sam, he jolted awake. He'd been sure that he'd seen the last of Sam and that he was safe. With nothing to really hold him on that deputy would have to let him go eventually. With Sam's arrival back in the jailhouse things had taken a decided turn for the worse. And worse yet was the fact that the drifter with the big dog was now wearing a badge pinned to his vest. Higgins did a double take when he saw that the badge was that of a US Marshal.

Higgins was thinking furiously. Sam was pasty white, and he stuttered and stammered when he talked. His hands were shaking, and he'd either spilled something on himself or wet himself. As far as Higgins could tell, it was only a matter of time before Sam told the two lawmen everything he knew. Something had to be done about the man before that could happen.

Higgins stood and went to the door of his cell. "Deputy," he called. "Could I speak to you for a minute?" Keller turned away from Sam to look at Higgins. Behind Keller, Higgins saw the other lawman shove Sam into a chair and turn away in disgust.

"What do you want, Higgins?" Keller asked with something in his voice Higgins didn't care for. Higgins blanched internally for a moment.

"You don't have any formal charges to hold me on, do you deputy?" Higgins asked in a fawning tone. "I haven't really done anything wrong, have I?"

"That remains to be seen," Keller told him. He looked at Higgins thoughtfully for a moment then went to the desk and brought out the key to Higgins' cell. He unlocked the door and swung it open. "Go home, Higgins. But I expect I'll be calling on you one day soon, so don't leave town." He stepped aside as Higgins fairly ran from the cell.

"I'll be right down the street at my hotel if you need me," he said hurriedly. He walked rapidly to the door. "Don't worry, I won't go anywhere."

Higgins yanked the door open and nearly dove outside. He came to an abrupt halt and started backing into the room. "I thought you left," Charlie said roughly.

"Wha, wha, wha," Higgins stammered, backing further into the room. Beyond him, Dawg stood on the boardwalk. His hackles were raised and he looked as big as a dray horse standing there. There was a rumbling deep in his chest and his lip was curled revealing pearly white teeth.

"It's alright, Dawg," Charlie called. "Linn let him out. He can go."

Dawg growled louder and for the second time tonight a man who knew better disregarded his toilet training. Dawg backed up a couple of steps and Higgins sidled out the door and made a mad dash for the safety of the street. Charlie's laughter followed him into the darkness.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-11-07

 

As the night began to become darker, Charlie and Linn began the rounds of walking the town. Charlie mostly to keep Linn company and to chat. Passing the Church they say the silhouette image of the Preacher reading, they did not stop to bother him. Instead the continued on.

Sam was a mess about now, He was sure he could hear chains rattling in the distance, the gentle breeze blowing played tricks on the mans hearing. He thought he could hear someone calling his name from out of the darkness.

Cold, shivering from lack of nourishment or hot coffee, afraid to show his face, even his speech while talking to himself became stuttered. Unsure of his next move or plight, Sam started to give Deputy Keller's' suggestion some thought; and as the night grew longer so did the thought process.

Sam was even afraid to warm his hands against the lantern, in fear of illuminating himself to the unknown in the darkness. A creaking noise began to get louder, the winds whisper got closer and suddenly it was gone, a few seconds later Charlie and Linn came around the corner.

Charlie remarked later that the puddle at Sam's feet could have floated a large ship, and the wetness and odor about Sam's person was apparently more than even Sam could handle.

" Dep...ppiity, dep...ppiitttyy, Yoooouu g..gotyy a sssmmmoke, I..I..I c..a..a..an have?"


Rev. Sopris was warm, reading and was finishing up the last of the days coffee when he spotted Linn, Charlie and Sam walking towards the Jail.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-11-07

 

There was a chill in the room, Duzy thought, and then noticed the hair raised on her arms, and could feel the chill go down her spine. Something was very unusual, but she didn’t feel imminent danger for their little family on the outskirts of town. Instead, she had visual images of the scales of justice, of a tree, and images of men. She shook herself, stood and asked Bonnie if she would care to go for a walk.

Upon hearing this, Aunt Esther said, “Duzy, please, promise just to get some night air, for this is not meant for us to stop, or to change, it is, as it is. Realizing that her Aunt was right, Duzy promised, kissing her Aunt on the forehead and asking if she knew what it could be? “No, my dear, only that it is meant to be, that I feel no danger, but instead I feel it should be left alone.” “Me too,” Duzy said, still wondering what it could be. Most times when she had a “feeling,” her heart pounded and she automatically moved, as if she were being led, just as she had when Sam had been beating Bonnie as she tried to protect Sarah. Sometimes, it was just an instant connection between herself and another, knowing that fate had brought them together for a reason.....

Aunt Esther was reading a newspaper that had been on the stagecoach the morning Duzy picked up her package from her Papa. She had asked the driver if she could borrow it, as she loved to read, and newspapers from so far away were not that usual. The driver told her that the owner had left it, and being that he couldn’t read, for her to take it and enjoy it, smiling with a crooked smile at Aunt Esther, his front teeth missing, but a cordial man. Aunt Esther had been delighted. She needed something to keep her mind off Mr. Keller, blushing as she remembered watching him in the court room and calling out “Linn” instead of Mr. Keller when Duke Slade was turning on him. She sure hoped no one had noticed her use of his first name! It had been a long time since she had thoughts of a man. As her mind started to drift backward to another time, she saw an advertisement in the classified section. Reading it carefully, she smiled to herself, thinking this just may be what Duzy could need.

Bonnie and Duzy were sitting on the porch swing that Mr. Wallace had brought over the morning after their dinner together, having made it himself from some spare lumber from building the church, with the Reverend’s blessing. The ladies enjoyed the swing, and little Sarah loved it! Bonnie said, “We should build a swing with a seat and some rope to hang on the tree out near the creek, for Sarah to swing, as she always wants to go higher and higher with this one, she laughed lovingly. “That is a wonderful idea; we will get what we need from town and make her one. I remember swinging on one when I was a little girl too!” It was the little things like this that Bonnie thought of, concerning Sarah, that made Duzy realize that Aunt Esther had been right in thinking that Duzy was not ready to take on a small child yet, as her eyes and thoughts were more on the business she was planning and how to go about it, being that she had never taken on the construction of a building before. The newspaper office was already under construction when she had taken that job. A wistful sigh left her lips, wondering if she would ever be accepted as a journalist.

Bonnie spoke of the shop she planned, speaking of the silks, brocades, linens, and all sorts of trims and she brought the materials alive as she talked about them, how she would drape one piece or pleat another, talking and moving her hands as if she could feel the fabrics as she talked.

Aunt Esther stepped out on the porch and handed Duzy the advertisement, carrying a lamp outside with her for Duzy to read by. Bonnie leaned over to read the article too, and Duzy realized then that Bonnie’ could read, wondering why she hadn’t told them before now, and just how much more of Bonnie’s past they were yet to learn.

Tilly was inside with Sarah, enjoying being away from Sam’s Place and becoming more comfortable everyday, her shell slowly removing, as different facets of her personality were beginning to show. It was a happy evening for the ladies.

Aunt Esther heard Duzy and Bonnie both gasp from excitement reading the article, and both started talking at once. Finally, they agreed to go into town and send a wire the next morning as this may be just be what Duzy was looking for!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-10-07

 

Ordinary people who see and feel things the rest of us don't; They have a rare brain condition called synesthesia in which some of the senses - usually quite distinct - involuntarily fuse together, creating almost literally a sixth sense. Music is not only heard, it's seen and felt; words can have flavors and flavors can have color. It is believed that 1 in 23 people have this condition.

Most anything can bring out this sense and it's believed to run in families. Duzy and Esther bonded because they both shared this condition.

Suppose Sam at the train depot might be feeling the effect of this "synesthesia"; maybe he not only sensed his own demise but tasted it too.

A gentle swing of a lantern hung from the rafter swaying in the night breeze, provided a nightly creak; the boards on the planks cooling from the day time heat, began to expand from the moisture, causing the nails to tweak in the wood. The swing on the porch had it's own sound..If Sam was scared inside it wouldn't take a stranger long to see evidence of it outwardly. Even Sam's pocket watch had an evil tick.

Sam shook inside, even the images in the dark of wildlife appearing as in the distant had the look of the Ghost of Death..And the dead rose, Sam threw it out on the tracks, avoiding eye contact.

Sam's heartbeat was becoming irregular, he needed a drink, but he did not dare go back into town. There was certain death and uncertainty. Here he at least knew he was alone...or was he?

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-10-07

 

The stars appeared so close that all Bonnie would have to do was reach out and touch them. This was just one of the simple pleasures that Bonnie was falling in love with all over again. There were many nights she, her Mama and Sister would sit out on the porch and simply gaze into a sky completely filled with wonder.

Mama and Margaret were gone now, but sitting out in the stillness with Esther, Duzy and Tilly were sheer bliss, too. There was no way around it, there was a kinship among the women. There was a blanket of respect and gratitude that rest peacefully above them ... it was a wonderful feeling to behold.

Tilly was still finding her bearing among this little family of females, but Duzy and Esther gave her the space she needed to adjust, just like they did with Bonnie. Bonnie smiled at Tilly seeing her sit there in a garnet red cotton skirt and white cotton blouse ... she looked as if she was never part of any other kind of lifestyle than this one! "Do I look like that, too?" Bonnie thought. She felt like she did ... funny how it doesn't always take to much time to feel the healing powers.

Bonnie glanced over at Esther. Esther was figgeting, and though Bonnie couldn't clearly see Esthers face in the shadowed darkness, she thought Esther was perplexed about something. Duzy, too, was looking distracted.

"What is with you two all of a sudden? I don't hear a thing to be concerned about" Bonnie asked.

Esther replyed, "Some things felt are not always heard, Bonnie."

Then Duzy, "Isn't that the truth! There is something going on tonight ... that is for certain!"

Tilly's cup and saucer began making a clatter sound, "Well that just gives me the spooks! ...."

"I do not believe we have anything to fear dear girls ..." and with that Esther settled back into the rocker and sipped her tea. Bonnie noticed Duzy doing the same.

Bonnie knew the two had moments of a sixth sense ... no doubt this was one of those times. Bonnie settled back as well ... took a little longer for Tilly to relax. These two women were still new to Tilly. She'd get used to it.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-9-07

 

Charlie found Dawg behind the church, cleaning up what looked like biscuits and gravy. Considering that the plate was behind the church, he figured it was probably safe.

"If you're done eating, would you care for a stroll downtown? I need to talk to that deputy," Charlie said.

Dawg gave the plate one more lick then woofed, which Charlie took as a yes. He turned toward the jailhouse.

A lamp was lit outside the door of the jail and the door was open. Charlie stepped up on the boardwalk and looked in the door. Deputy Keller was sitting at the Sheriff's desk with a bemused expression on his face, looking down at a slip of paper in his hand. He didn't notice Charlie and Dawg until Charlie knocked quietly on the door.

The deputy quickly dropped something shiny into his pocket. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

Charlie looked closely at the deputy, whose name he'd heard was Keller, and said, "I'm going to reach into an inside pocket and I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me when I do. Alright?"

"I don't generally shoot strangers unless they give me a good reason," Keller said. "Reach away."

Charlie reached into a pocket in his vest and pulled out his badge and pinned it to his vest. "My name's MacNeil, and I'm a Deputy US Marshal." He stuck his hand across the desk. Keller reached and shook it.

"Linn Keller," he said. "And I already know who you are. There can't be more than one marshal riding a buckskin horse that pale and traveling with a dog that big and black."

"I didn't know I was famous," Charlie said. "Or is it infamous?"

Linn shrugged and grinned. "It all depends on your point of view, I guess," he said. "Back to my original question: What can I do for you?"

Charlie looked at him. "I was wondering if you could tell me if there's a tree somewhere around here that's been used to, shall we say, cut short the careers of a few ne'er-do-wells?"

"Like a tree of truth?" Keller said solemnly.

Charlie was startled and looked it. "Where did you hear that?" he asked sharply. His thumb hooked over his belt near the butt of his crossdraw Remington pistol.

Linn slowly reached into his own pocket and tossed something onto the desktop. The coin spun and glittered and came to a stop with an engraved cross showing. "Heads evil loses."

"You're one of us," Charlie said.

"I am," Linn answered. "But I haven't seen a coin like this in many years."

"And someone in Firelands is calling both our names," Charlie said.

"That he is. I don't know who, but I've got a better than average idea why." Linn paused. "The tree of truth is a big oak in a draw over by the cemetery. And the dark of the moon is coming up. Soon."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-9-07

 

The ladle was hanging on the rim of the water bucket like it always was, and I picked up the coffee pot and swirled it. Not much left. A little water, a little more swirl and I tossed the dregs out into the dirt street, off to the side so I wouldn't track dirt into the office next I came in. I like my coffee with authority and wished for some vanilla, but we had none here in the office.
Just as well. Give me an excuse to stop and see the good Reverend again sometime.
Funny, I thought. 'Twas almost as if he were quoting Ecclesiastes to me, when I recited the verse ... he wasn't a bit surprised at it, nor put out that I'd spoken and interrupted his study.
There was a goodly amount of ground coffee in the drawer and I spooned some in, added water and set it on the little pot belly stove. A fire was already set inside and only needed me to put match to it. The night was getting cool and I was satisfied the stove wouldn't over heat the snug confines of the office.
I scratched the Lucifer match and shoved it into the shavings and looked away from the glare before closing its door. The foolish man will stare at a fire; I'd long been in the habit of looking away, or shading my face from the flame. Many's the time I needed to see after dark and staring at a fire is a sure way to destroy your night time eye sight.
The lamp outside the door had been recently filled and only wanted flame to bring it to life. Didn't even have to trim the wick. The Sheriff was a tidy and methodical man, he'd probably been career military, though he never said. Paced off on the left, like a soldier, carried himself with the erect carriage of a soldier -- but then so did most horsemen, least those that weren't so lazy as to slouch in the saddle -- and his desk was a model of almost painful neatness, not one single thing out of place.
The lamp, lit outside the door, told the world someone was home in case they needed something.
I lit the lamp on his desk.
"Now that's odd," I said out loud, and drew back from the desk, my hand going for the handle of my Colt. Nothing else was out of place, nothing out of the ordinary.
Someone had been in here, neither the Sheriff nor myself.
The Sheriff would not have left an envelope at an odd angle on the desk.
He would have turned it neatly parallel to the front of the desk, with the address facing forward, so it could be read by someone standing in front of the desk.
It had my name on it.
I crossed the room in three long steps and unlocked the Greener, checked its loads, went back to the cells.
Nothing.
Higgins snarled, "When you gonna let me outta here? I got a business to run!"
"When I finish my investigation," I replied, nostrils flaring, cat-footing back to the front of the office.
"When will that be?" Higgins shouted after me. "When Hell freezes?"
I stepped behind the desk, laid the Greener on top and set down.
I examined the envelope.
"Don't recognize the hand writing," I thought, hefting it.
Something slid inside the envelope, something heavy ... a coin?
I opened the envelope.
A gold coin fell into my palm.
I saw a Seal of Solomon -- the Star of David -- superimposed with a Christian cross. I knew what would be on the reverse.
I leaned toward the lamp and, turning the coin over, gave a long, low whistle.
Hadn't expected to see one of these again.
There was a note with it:
"When the moon is in darkness,
And the silence befalls the land,
Bring a rose and this coin to the tree of truth,
Where others have been hanged."
I leaned back in the chair and an old, familiar tension started building in my legs.
I took a long, deep breath.
There was work to be done, and I had been summoned.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-9-07

 

"Dawg", a fine specimen of an independent thinking dog, with clear thoughts about what he wants for dinner, biscuits, stew or villain; began his afternoon search.

A smell he detected from once before offered him a fresh baked biscuit with just a little gravy about to tempt the taste buds. Dawg was not afraid, wagged his tail and like a gentleman devoured the biscuit in a single bite and swallow, and gave that remarkable grin...Do dogs grin?

A black dead rose was offered to Dawg with instructions .."Take to Sam at Train Depot" "Good Boy"- "you can have another biscuit when you return!".

Alone, with a thousand dollars, and thoughts of life or death rushed through his head. Each new thought was more devastating then the last. His heart would race; it felt like his eyes would pop, the pounding inside his chest only grew louder when the Big Black Dog, dropped the "Black Dead Rose" at Sam's feet, grinned and quickly departed.

Sam unsure the sender, was clear on the message..It met certain death, but from whom and where or even when.

Here, now, tonight..Slade, Higgins or Carsey...Who? Confusion and thoughts of delirium circled inside his head. The train would not come soon enough, maybe not at all. And what of Slade who has already left for prison, would he order Sam's death?

Dawg was already at the back of the Church, licking the remains of his tasty morsel of food when Charlie MacNeil walked up and said, "There you are!" Where you been this afternoon Dawg?' Dawg He just grinned.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-9-07

 

"Sam?"
Sam jumped, clutching the handle of his carpet bag. Even in the near-dark, I could see his eyes were wide and fearful.
I stepped out of the shadow and up the two steps onto the depot platform. Train would not be through until daylight.
"Have a set, Sam," I said, folding my frame onto a nice friendly bench.
I just sat there for a little while, listening to the crickets and the distant, intermittent clatter of Lightning's telegraph. I let the silence build, knowing Sam's guilty conscience would just compound his anxiety.
"You know, Sam," I said, "I am a curious man."
Sam hugged the carpet bag on his lap, watching me as if expecting me to sprout wings and fly away.
"Can't help but wonder about poor old Carsey. The man can't give change for sixbits without dropping it all over the floor. Now why do you suppose he's so nervous all of a sudden?"
"I, I, I dunno," Sam stammered, then blustered, "Why are you askin' me for? I don't know nothin!"
"Oh, I think you do, Sam," I said softly. "And I think some folks are afraid you'll talk."
I let that sink in.
Sam leaned back in his seat, eyes searching the prairie across the tracks from us, darting as if seeking an escape.
"You know, you'll have a better chance if you tell me before they get to you."
"Tell you what! I don't know nothin!"
"I know about the meetings," I said quietly.
There was a short, sharp intake of breath. I'd hit a nerve.
"Suppose you get it off your chest, Sam. You'll feel the better for it."
"They'll kill me!" he hissed.
"They'll have to come through me first," I said. "You tell me all you know. Everything. Hold nothing at all back. I will keep you safe. On that you have my word."
Sam was silent for several long moments, then his lip curled in contempt.
"Depitty, I wouldn't tell you if I had to! Now I don't know nothin! Get outta here an' leave me alone!" His voice gained momentum and at the end he was fairly shouting.
I nodded, looking down at the planks underfoot. "All right, Sam. Just remember ... you'll stand a better chance with me than with them."
I stood.
"Last chance."
In less than gentlemanly terms, Sam wished me a swift and certain descent to the Inferno.
I nodded. "I'll be at the Sheriff's office if you change your mind." I looked at my watch, closed the case, slipped it back into my vest pocket. "I'll have the coffee pot on. Train don't come til daybreak."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-9-07

 

Dan Carsey, the Banker hasn’t been the same since Slade’s incarceration and after the encounter with the Reverend; a nervous disorder has overcome the corrupted banker. Another villain, Sam has been held in the Jail on numerous charges and the investigation continues. Carsey is pretty sure someone is going to talk. After all he and Higgins are the only two left free and Higgins isn’t doing much better.

Higgins is on the verge of ruins, divorce and possible imprisonment for his conspiracy involvement and extra marital activities. Threats made publicly and privately towards the health and safety of others has not gone down well within the community or with his wife for that matter.

On the last trip by the bank, Rev. Sopris noticed that Banker Carsey couldn’t make simple change for two bits without dropping coins. Most of the community of Firelands stopped making deposits due to their suspicions of Carsey.

What lies ahead for these co-conspirators could have not been imagined by their feeble brains or in their wildest imagination.

The Church had a wonderful Rose garden. It sported a variety of colors and variations not usually seen in the West. But the rich soil was good for many things and fresh fruits and vegetables were always in abundance and the good folks of Firelands were always willing to share or exchange peaches for apricots or beans for tators.

There was a large wildlife population and the occasional Venison Stew, or Elk Steak was always appreciated. Growth has seasons, and within that same frame work Firelands would go through a variety of both environmental and social seasons. This was “a time to gather stones together and a time to scatter them apart."

Would there ever be peace and harmony in Firelands? Rev. Sopris prayed for it and would do just about anything in his power to see that the community was healthy, happy, and serene, with a sense of life, purpose and direction for an everlasting future.

Don’t ya love the smell of roses?

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-8-07

 

Thoughts of man...They may be deep or shallow. Those thoughts that are deep, come from men of experience; rugged and have survived the mistakes of the shallow thoughts of their youth.

Rev. Sopris listened not only to Keller's words but the manner in which he spoke them. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with his predicament, and yet not so uncomfortable or inexperienced in life that he could not resolve the dilemma. He just need a light to find his way.

Silence is a good teacher, reflection adds to the learning experience; In those moments man can conquer fears, solve problems, resolve disputes.
In the minds of the evil ones it stirs the haunts, releases the devil within and takes over the soul and body.

Firelands, not a town foreign to corruption, evil or the growing pains unlike any other Western Expansion town of the Manifest Destiny. BUT, it had to find it's own way to survive.

In that Survival a special breed of citizen will grow, others will be called forward and some will not survive.

"What we need here Deputy, is a good midway house for travelers. Where a good meal, day or night can be had. Shelter from their struggles so they may gain the strength to go on or resolve to stay on and help others. Perhaps you could recommend to Esther and the ladies a partnership, where each month a percentage of the business becomes theirs and eventually you can remove yourself from the daily tasks of overseeing the operation. Besides I believe the Lord has a need for you talents."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-8-07

 

 I hung my hat on a peg and accepted the good Reverend's hospitality. Coffee at any time was welcome, but in good company it was doubly so. I eased my long tall frame into a chair and relaxed, slowly, letting the coffee and vanilla smells deep into my grateful nose.
We were silent, for a long while, Reverend Sopris following his Scripture, and I, following my own thoughts. My eyes wandered around the inside of his quarters, here in the church: efficient, I thought: sparse, even Spartan, but efficiently laid out. Automatically my eyes went to the corners. If you ever want to judge a carpenter's skills, look at his corners, my Pappy had told me, and he was right. These corners were tight, and looked square. If I had put a steel square to try any of them I doubt if there would be any wobble at all.
It's rare to find a companion with whom you can share a silence, but we had it, there in his spare and sparse room.
My eyes were following a neatly-hewn beam. I had honestly been surprised when the Sheriff handed me the warrants, and those two names out of my past jumped out at me. I knew it quite possible that I'd run across folks again, but two at once was not expected. Just as well they were gone.
Wonder what else out of the past is going to come up and say howdy.
I took another sip of coffee.
"For all things there is a season," the Reverend said softly, "and a time and a purpose to everything under the heavens."
"A time to plant, and a time to reap," I nodded. "A time to laugh and a time to mourn. A time to gather stones together and a time to scatter them apart." I frowned, eyes following the base board. "Reverend, I have been mightily blessed."
Reverend Sopris nodded, listening.
Elbows on my knees, I leaned toward him. "I have known the love of a good woman, and the blessing of a child. I have made money and lost money and made more. Right now I am a rich man but I am empty inside."
The ceramic mug was warm in my hands, and my eyes looked far beyond the painted wall.
"Reverend, I don't have any real use for that hotel. I bought it to get Sam out of here. I told the girls tonight they were never going to be working girls again, and when I saw how well they were working with Daisy and one another in feeding that cavalry troop that came into town, I figured they could run it without me, at least for tonight." I took another sip. "I trusted them, Reverend, for they need to be shown that they are worthy of that trust."
The Reverend listened, eyes half-shut, like a cat. To the uninformed he might even have looked sleepy, but I knew better. There was considerably more to the man than met the eye, I was satisfied, but he was also someone I could trust. When I was a deputy marshal back home an old veteran lawman told me, "When in doubt, son, follow your gut."
My gut told the Reverend Sopris would do to ride the river with.
"I've got me a notion Miz Esther and Bonnie could make good use of that hotel. It will take some overhaul, I doubt me not, and if we can buy up more property or hopefully the buildings on either side we can expand it as needed. That new lawyer fellow is set up right now in Slade's old place." I smiled. "He told me the fellow was a shyster and a thief but he had a good selection of legal books."
Reverend Sopris nodded, tilting his head a little bit to the side. A question, asked without words.
I smiled. "Reckon I need to figure out some way to sell that hotel to the ladies without offering any insult. Miz Esther is a proud woman, and was I just to give it to her it might give her offense, and I don't wish to offend the lady!" I sighed. "I could sell it to her but I don't know if she has funds to buy it. She already knows Slade got one thousand for it and barely stopped to sign the bill of sale before he left town."
I swirled the Arbuckle's around, looked into its whirlpool.
Crickets were starting to peep outside. Fall was coming and we'd likely start to see spiders and mice coming inside like they did every year.
"Went out to the graveyard tonight," I continued. "I understand Miz Bonnie's folks died of the typhoid. If they're buried in the cemetery I'd say we're safe. There's no way in the world that graveyard will ever wash out, and the earth is a fine natural filter ... I'd thought at first it might taint our well water, depending on which way water runs underground hereabouts, but I believe we'll be all right."
"I recall the epidemic," Reverend Sopris murmured. "Had to burn down Sam's outhouse to make him stop using it. Dug him a new one some distance further out. Everyone else moved theirs without protest. Sam had to be helped."
I smiled. Some folks have to have a helping hand, even if it's a boot in the backside.
I poured the Reverend and I both a refill.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-8-07

 

In the absence of persona and persons a stealthy figure entered the sheriff's office and carefully place a sealed envelope upon the desk of the Sheriff address to "Dep. Keller-Personal" Inside the envelope contained a Gold coin..bearing the letters S.C.O.L.D. on one side and a Cross engraved upon a 6 point star on the obverse side and a note.

With As much ease the stealthy figure disappeared. As Dep. Keller was returning from the cemetery he passed by the Church and found the Reverend reading from the bible and enjoying some coffee...Coffee with some vanilla mixed in it.

"Good Evening Dep Keller..Interest you in a cup of Coffee?"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-8-07

 

For a man with his own hotel I had absolutely no idea what to do.
Fortunately the ladies did.
Higgins was in jail and that meant I was responsible for him ... and unfortunately that meant for his hotel also.
Sam's ladies, I decided, needed a sense of self-worth and they needed to be kept busy.
It seems Sam had them as do-alls as well as ... well, that was over and I told the ladies so.
"I have a bad habit," I said to them, hat in hand. "When I meet a lady, she is a Lady, until she proves herself otherwise. We have the advantage of not knowing one another, therefore this is a clean slate. If you wish to remain I will pay you a fair wage for your work but if you want to leave that's fine, you can make a fresh start, perhaps with another name, and I will give you a stake. You have been badly put upon and I won't have that happen here again!"
For the time being I had three employees, plus Daisy down in the kitchen. She was a fair cook, she could feed a hungry man and make him like it, and she was a sweet enough girl -- no idea how she stayed pleasant, working for the Previous Administration -- and she was capable -- she enlisted two of the ladies to help her in the kitchen and dining room and she managed to feed the entire cavalry column, in two shifts, and made it look easy.
Daisy did mention the kitchen was too small and lacked some things.
I had packed away the liquor but let the girls dispense beer, and trusted them to collect fairly for it. They were surprised at this but offered no protest. Shocked looks at one another -- apparently Sam never trusted them with anything! -- but I left the hotel in their hands and went back out into the night.
Shorty had rubbed Sam down and curried him; he'd been watered and grained, and I didn't have the heart to saddle him up again, so I bypassed the livery and walked on out of town for a little distance.
There was nobody about, and the moon was on the wane, but I did not need much light.
I walked the short distance to the cemetery. It was in a little bit of a draw, with the graves on the hillside and a big spreading oak down in the draw where it had grown, sheltered from the prairie winds, until it got height and strength and bushed out wonderfully. A man could hide down there in the shadows and have tree trunk and roots, rocks and broken ground to disguise his form.
Out of curiosity I walked up the little draw. There was a light breeze and the leaves whispered secrets to the darkness. I remembered a huge old oak, back home, that never shed its leaves even in winter; they hung there, brown, dry, hissing to each other with the least bit of wind. An old Indian I'd known called it a whisper tree and said it knows things.
On a shadowed night like this I would be inclined to believe him.
The graveyard was on the hillside -- not that it was much of a hill, just a little bit of a rise -- and I considered the things I'd heard.
Miz Bonnie's folks died of the cholera. I need to ask where they are buried. Were they buried here, the cholera could seep into the water ... looks like any water would be carried away from town ... reckon I could cut a green fork and witch out the water table, and try and figure which way the water ran, underground. It would not do to dig a well in the path of bad water.
There had been a cholera epidemic in Cambridge and the victims were all buried in a new corner of the cemetery. They called that section the Cholera Cemetery and a couple years later a flood came along and washed out some of the rough boxes, and there was a cholera epidemic down stream as a result.
There were no oak branches in reach. Just as well. I never had luck witching with an oak. Peach or pear worked best for me.
I walked up into the graveyard with my hat in my hand, and looked around. Some of the graves had stones, some had boards.
A man's name, a date ... hardly seems a fittin' memorial to a lifetime's work.
I looked back at the oak and looked down on one branch.
Scuff marks.
I'd found the hangin' tree.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-8-07

 

Dawg escorted Sarah and her family back to their house but no matter how much Sarah pleaded he would not go in. A sense of unrest had come over him and he needed to be out and about; needed to taste and smell the night. At last a disappointed Sarah gave him one last hug and closed the door. It took all Dawg's willpower to keep from following her inside but he had turned from play to work.

Dawg cast out into the night. He circled the house like a phantom but nothing came to either his ears or his nose. He began to move toward the town, still sniffing the breezes. He was nearly past a big cottonwood tree when he stopped dead with the hair bristling up all along his spine making him look even bigger. His upper lip curled away from his teeth and a low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

"Easy there, big fella," a voice said quietly. "I mean neither you nor those ladies any harm. I'm looking out for them the same as you." A shadow detached itself from the tree and drifted to where Dawg stood. Dawg sniffed the outstretched hand and stopped growling but he didn't relax his guard. Dawg could barely make out the man's features but he'd know the man by scent if they met again. And Dawg was sure that they would meet again.

The shadowy figure reached out to Dawg's collar and slipped the drawstring of a small pouch under it and deftly tied the pouch there. "You go on back to Charlie MacNeil and give him that, alright boy?" The man drifted back to the tree and with one more quiet growl Dawg moved on.

In the loft of the livery, Charlie MacNeil was taking time to contemplate. He lay on his blankets with his hands behind his head trying to decide what he should do next. When he'd first drifted into Firelands he was merely looking for a drink, a meal, and a place to sleep before riding on. Now he was a day late riding on and couldn't for the life of him figure out why he'd stuck around.

Below he heard the horses stir nervously and he sat up with his pistol in his hand. He got to his feet and moved quietly to the ladder leading down. He heard Buck nicker low in his throat and an answering "Woof" and relaxed. It was just Dawg coming back from wherever he'd been.

Dawg woofed again and Charlie saw him look up at where Charlie stood. The light of the lantern on a post in the alley leading to the back of the barn gleamed on polished leather for a moment. Charlie quickly holstered his pistol and climbed down the ladder in his sock feet. Someone had tied a small pouch to Dawg's collar. He untied the pouch and felt a weight inside and felt the crackle of paper. He opened the pouch and dumped what it held into his hand.

The first thing to hit his palm was a gold coin. He turned it so that the light shown on it and his blood ran cold for a moment at what he saw inscribed there. He turned it over, knowing what he would see on the other side but still he had to look. It was just as he'd expected. And it was the last thing he'd expected to see in Firelands.

Charlie reached into the pouch and took out the note. He didn't recognize the handwriting. The note read, "When the Moon is in darkness, and the silence befalls the land, bring a rose and this coin to the tree of truth, where others have been hanged."

With that note and that coin, Charlie MacNeil's travel plans changed. He knew now he'd be staying in Firelands for a while, at least until the evil that was growing here had been extinguished. His name had been called. The dark of the moon was still a few days away, and he had to find out where the "tree of truth" was. But he would indeed find that tree.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-8-07

 

Sunset always surprised me, out here.
I remembered sunrise, over Lake Erie, and sunsets back home, but nothing compared to sunsets out here ... and how fast it cooled off and got dark after the sun went down. It was blessedly dry. Leather did not mold like it did back home, nor did tools rust. Oh, they would rust if you neglected them, but rust didn't visit inside of a half hour like they did back in the damp East.
Not many people had consumption out here, either. Drier air, the docs said.
Sam and I had been out to the edges of the county for a couple of days. I'd taken care of some needful business, finding out the warrants I was to serve would require the use of a shovel -- the fellows they were sworn out after, had gotten into a disagreement with one another, and both of them came out in second place.
Just as well. Tikkky Lacey I knew from back home. I'd locked him up several times for having "Tikky Fingers" ... the other, Slick Shaw, fancied himself a bad man and bullied anyone he could. He, too, had crossed my path in the past, and had earned time behind bars as a result. Neither of them would hold any love for me and their demise was for the betterment of the community. Kindly of them to solve the problem for us.
Firelands was in the distance, some miles away. The air was clear, out here, none of the haze I'd taken as normal back East. I could hear the steam train, well off in the distance, and smiled. I'd been offered a fine profit for it by the Union Pacific, and I was of a mind to sell.
Investments are funny things. A man can invest money, and make or lose money, but what does he have when he's done? A handful of gold?
Struck me that investing something better might get a better result.
Take Esther, for instance. There was a fine woman! She was obviously from a good family, she was educated, she was intelligent and she had a good level head.
I gazed into the distance.
She was about my age, I reckoned. Fine cook. And she still had dreams, she still had plans. A fine looking woman, too --
I shook myself. What am I thinking? Some good looking fellow with a lot of money will come along in a city suit and sweep her off her feet with Eastern manners and an old family name. What do I have to offer? An old lawman with a gray mustache?
I can provide her a good income, I thought. With what I've already got, and the accounts back East, and what the railroad wants to pay me for the short line here, I'll be good for the rest of my life. Be a fine wedding gift you could offer.
Wedding gift! I shook my head. A badge packer on a plow horse with a two story hotel and nobody to run the thing!
Sam's head came up and I looked out over his ears. A column of cavalry was headed for town.
Sam was restless under me.
He wanted to run.
"Think you can beat 'em, boy?" I murmured, patting his neck.
I gave him my knees and he bunched up under me and was at a flat out gallop in two strides.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-8-07

 

"Won't you come in, Mr Dawg?" Bonnie and Sarah stood aside for Sarah's LARGE playmate to enter, and before closing the door, Bonnie looked around to see if his 'Partner' was there as well.

"Looks like it is just Dawg!" Bonnie surmised and noticed Dawg went right to the kitchen area and heavily sat himself on the floor.

"Here you go, Mr. Dawg!" Sarah said as she held out a biscuit ... and three biscuits later they were shaking hands, rolling over, and Sarah was laughing up a storm.

"Aunt Esther? I will be going to town to post a letter. Is there anything you need while I am there?"

Aunt Esther replied a no, but Tilly said she wanted to come along. She had heard there was a produce stand set up on the outskirts of town. "I found some cannin' supplies in the cellar yesterday. It"s been a long time since I've done so, but I think some canned items would be a good thing to have around," Tilly said.

An hour later, Tilly, Bonnie, Sarah, and of course, Mr Dawg found their way back into town. Tilly separated from them to jaunt over to where she heard about the produce stand, and the other three made their way to the Post Office.

Bonnie was struck at how well people kept their distance. No doubt due to Dawg! "I need one of these", Bonnie thought.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-8-07

 

Earlier...

Dawg had found a new friend in Sarah, and Dawg liked to visit his friends. He was pretty sure he could find her again, so after Charlie brought him his dinner the big dog decided to go exploring. He'd just go to the place where he'd met Sarah and follow her scent from there. It that didn't work, the perfumes of the ladies she was with would take him to her. Then there was always the older lady who smelled like fresh-baked biscuits. Dawg could track biscuits from a long ways away. They were one of his favorite foods.

Dawg drifted through the early evening shadows toward the courthouse. He was careful because he'd been mistaken for a bear more than once and had a couple of bullet scars because of it. Only his quick reflexes had saved him each time.

Of course not all of his scars were the result of his bear-like appearance. He and Charlie were in a dangerous line of work. So Dawg was always careful, especially in a new town.

At the courthouse steps Dawg began a thorough investigation. A few people had come and gone during the course of the day, but his keen nose found traces of Sarah's scent overlaid by the ladies' perfume and he began to follow the trail.

Few people were out and about at this hour so Dawg stepped out on the street, but always watchful and ready to fade back into the shadows. The trail he followed was faint and often faded out completely but Dawg kept at it, sure he could find his new little friend.

A fitful breeze blew the scent of fresh biscuits between two dark and shuttered buildings and Dawg's head came up to sniff the air. He turned into the alley and followed the smell to another street and along it past the edge of town to a white house with a freshly painted picket fence. Up close, the smell of paint nearly covered the biscuit smell but Dawg knew this was the place.

Through an open window Dawg heard the little girl's laughter and his tail flicked back and forth. He walked through the open gate and up to the house. Even though he'd eaten earlier the smell of food made his mouth water. He lightly scratched on the door and woofed politely.

The door flew open and Sarah ran out onto the porch and flung her arms around Dawg's neck. "Hi Dawg," she said. She gave him a hug and said, "We just got done eating but I'm sure Auntie Esther has some food for you." She looked back into the house. "Doesn't she, Bonnie?"

Bonnie had come to the door with Sarah and Dawg solemnly offered her his paw. He didn't know for sure what the relationship was between Bonnie and Sarah but he could tell that Sarah was very attached to Bonnie and that was good enough for him. Bonnie reached down and shook the offered paw. "I'm sure we can find something," she said with a laugh. "Won't you come in, Mister Dawg?"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-8-07

 

Hair tied back loosly at the neck, clad in a cotton nightgown and wrapper, Bonnie sat at the dinning table with pen in hand. The envelope being already addressed to Mr. Abram Rosenthal in care of Rosenthal and McKenna Textiles, Chicago, Illinois.

Bonnie found the house quiet - Blessedly quiet. It was giving Bonnie the chance to think ... and to write. The embers were dying in the fireplace, so she stoked it a bit more, and returned to the task at hand.

My Dear Abram,
My sincere apologizes for not contacting you sooner, as three years is, no doubt, a long time to wait for news from Colorado.

Before I proceed, I sincerely hope this finds you and Miriam in good health and I trust the rest of the family, too, are well. Last I recall, David and Hannah were to have a child, so imagin your Sabbath table is filled to a greater amount of loved ones these days. I also remember Levi was engaged to be married. What news can you share with me pertaining to Caleb? What a dear friend he was while I was growing up. Please inform him I thinking of him, too.

As I am not sure when you last heard from Mama, allow me to fill you in on some of the last three years. With deep regret and sadness, I need to inform you that Mama and Margaret are no longer here with me, as they passed away when a Typhoid epidemic passed through Firelands as many years ago stated above. Continued sadness fell upon me after that as well, and to make a long story short, I now have my feet planted more firmly beneath me.

I am currently living with three other women. Miss Esther Wales, Aunt of Duzy Wales - it is to them I owe a debt of gratitude to - Miss Tilly Ashcroft, and my ward, six year old Sarah Graves. Yes, you read that correctly! My ward! She is a delightful blond ball of energy that makes me smile and cherish life daily. Sarah lost both of her parents, and she came to me as a miracle from Heaven. Miriam would love to get her hands Sarah, I am sure.

I think of Papa all the time, Abram, as I am sure you do as well. So with that in mind, let me move onto another reason for writing this letter to you. Papa passed his love of textiles to me as you may recall, and I find myself opening a business with which I can surround myself with beautiful fabrics. I need your assistance, if you please, Abram. Please forward me the amount you would need in payment for failles, bengalines, tafetta's, silks, cottons, along with trims and notions to properly set up the business. Please keep in mind the word modest, as Firelands is not Denver. Sears and Robuck has it's benefits, but the women here deserve to purchase their ready made clothing, or fabrics, locally. Mail order tends to be costly, and the time for delivery can be long.

I will close this letter for now, Abram. I anxiously look forward to hearing from you. Pass my love to all,

Best regards,

Your loving,

Bonnie

PS Have you heard anything from Jamie?

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-8-07

 

Before the ladies left town, they noticed the mail had come in, and Duzy had a package from her Papa. She could tell Sarah was as excited about the package as she was, as she kept looking at it. Duzy wished she had something for Sarah to open for herself, as she realized that she had no idea when Sarah’s birthday was! She would see if Bonnie had any idea.

“Sarah, you have had a very exciting day, I noticed you playing with that big bear of a Dawg, wasn’t that his name?” “Yes, Auntie Duzy, did you notice how he gave me his paw? I love animals and did you see, he liked me too?” “Yes, I surely noticed he liked you, but I didn’t get over in time to meet his owner, did you get his name?” “No, Auntie Duzy, the man said he owned himself, isn’t that funny?” Duzy had just realized that Sarah had called her Auntie Duzy and it made her feel as if she even had a closer bond that ever to Sarah.

It was at that time that Aunt Esther stopped the ladies to listen to the argument going on inside the building. Duzy was at a loss as to what the initials could mean and Bonnie seemed confused, as well. Duzy thought she had heard Aunt Esther chuckle when she had heard it. She would wait to ask her later, when Sarah wasn’t around.

They were lost again in their thoughts when Bonnie asked if she could “think out loud,” telling them her concerns about the bank and the banker. Duzy thought it was well worth investigating before either of them deposited their money.

After arriving home, Duzy let Sarah tear the package open, and she handed Duzy a card that was just inside.

It read, “Sweetheart, I hope this will help in your new endeavor! Please write soon, as we miss you very much and wish to know how you are doing. Love, Papa

Duzy had to fight the tears, as she had not written to tell him, or her Mama, that she had been fired before even starting her new position.

This was the new gift from her Papa…….


George Eastman's Kodak Camera
In 1888, George Eastman invented dry, transparent, and flexible, photographic film (or rolled photography film) and the Kodak cameras that could use the new film.
George Eastman was an avid photographer and became the founder of the Eastman Kodak company.

"You press the button, we do the rest" promised George Eastman in 1888 with this advertising slogan for his Kodak camera.

The article went on to read that it was the first handheld camera, with a roll of film that would take 100 shots, the cost of the camera was $25.00, and after mailing the film in to be developed, you received your photographs and new film for $10.00! Duzy was thinking that this could come in very helpful for taking pictures for articles to get into print, perhaps working undercover, and with an assumed male name, without having to use all the cumbersome equipment that you usually needed. She could actually hide this camera until she needed to take the picture! Perhaps she could use this to get her ideas across, whilst everyone thought she was out of the newspaper industry altogether! It was certainly something to think about!

Before that, however, they had buildings that needed to be bought or put under construction, so she, Aunt Esther, Bonnie and Tilly would all have fulltime employment!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-8-07

 

"The body without a soul is no more in sacrifice.
Day of death put for birth:
The divine spirit will make the soul happy,
Seeing the word in his eternity."

 

In Nostradamus quatrains, because of the obscurity, one can find a quote to fit almost any situation. So was the line as recited to the banker, while Sopris was out walking after the trial.

 

Bankers usually have a stern worldly look, all encompassing. Money breeds corruption, the strange "bedfellows" that sleep in this nest of corruption will often have the same bed bugs. Some say the Reverend eyes change when he looks through your soul, others say its just the lighting. In either case those being addressed by the Reverend face to face sometimes feel uncomfortable, unsure. So was the feeling that the Banker had, for he never heard the Reverend come up from behind him, and it wasn't till the Reverend quoted the quatrain that the Banker had any knowledge that he wasn't alone. Then there was the look.

 

The Reverend then smiled in a smirk of a way and departed leaving the shaking banker to his thoughts. One of his co-conspirators was going to Jail; for life.

 

Higgins was in no better shape, his back written upon in scarlet letters, SCOLD? Whatever was that on Higgins back was to bring about the fear in all those who betrayed their family, friends or were found to be dishonest in their daily lives towards the community, or perhaps turned a deaf ear to those in need. Word traveled fast about the letters found scribbled, and they even reached back to Slade, who had other problems.

 

Slade had no way of knowing if he had the same on his back. He did of course but it wouldn't be until he arrived in prison and was able to take a bath, that other inmates would tell him. Some of those already victims of SCOLD. They too trembled once again at the sight of the letters.

 

Firelands had top notch law; they were considered the best in their field. Even the visiting badge wearer and his "dawg" were feared by those being pursued. The Reverend knew him and about his exploits. However Sopris had no curiosity about why he was here. He just accepted the presence as part of the Lords work.

 

It wasn't until later, in the early evening while "Dawg" was out wandering the city that an note was attached to his collar with a gold coin bearing the letters S.C.O.L.D. on one side and a Cross engraved upon a 6 point star on the obverse side, was found by Charlie MacNeil.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-7-07

 

The next morning, the caterwauling from the building Charlie had seen the shadowy figure carry the bodies into woke any late sleepers who might have still been abed in the vicinity. Over breakfast, Charlie learned that the local shyster and the owner of the general store had been found in what one patron of the Dutchman's cafe had called a "compromising position", locked up in a cell in the local jail, and neither one of them with a good explanation for how he got there. And as an addition to the morning's entertainment there was to be a trial. It seemed that the shyster was charging the deputy Charlie had seen last night, a man named Keller, with assault. This should be interesting.

Charlie took Dawg some breakfast then he and Dawg walked up to the door of the courtroom side by side. The big dog's stub of a tail waved gently as he walked. At the door, a weasel-faced individual wearing a shirt with a tie and boiled collar and an air of his own self-importance put his hand out. Charlie stopped just before the hand pushed him back.

"You can't bring that animal in this courtroom!" the man exclaimed.

"Tell him that," Charlie said. Dawg just smiled. Charlie was sure that the quick display of white behind Dawg's black lips was purely unintentional, but the doorman gulped and his hand sagged just the tiniest bit.

"I'm telling you. That creature has to stay outside," the man said somewhat weakly.

Dawg sat on his haunches and ran his tongue across his lips then yawned widely. This time the full extent of his teeth was definitely visible. The man gulped again and his hand dropped to his side. Charlie stepped around him and held the door. Dawg gave the doorman a friendly lick on the hand that nearly stopped the poor gent's heart then walked through the door. Charlie ticked his hat brim with a finger and followed Dawg inside.

Inside, Charlie looked for a place with some space and noticed a gap in the line of benches at the back of the room. "Over there," he told Dawg, and pointed. Dawg walked over and sat down where he could watch the proceedings. He and Charlie were no strangers to a courtroom, but one never knew what kind of show the various participants would put on.

The show wasn't long in coming. The lawyer had the appearance of one who might be into more things on the shady side of the law than might be exactly wise, and the longer the deputy talked, the more it looked like appearances were not deceiving in this case. But what really got Charlie's attention was when the deputy told about the shyster attacking the young lady. Charlie felt his temper start to stir at that but did his best to damp it down by telling himself once again that it was none of his business and he was just passing through. Even though he was getting a late start.

When the shyster admitted to being guilty of all the charges the deputy leveled against him, and the judge sentenced him to the territorial prison for life, the courtroom began to empty. Up at the front, a group of nicely dressed ladies were congratulating the one the deputy had called Bonnie for standing up to the shyster, whose name was Slade. A small girl took Bonnie's hand and the group began to move toward the door.

"Woof," Dawg said quietly. He was looking at the little girl, and his stub of a tail was flicking back and forth so fast it was almost a blur. Dawg loved children, and especially young girls. They all loved him right back, too. Charlie leaned against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. He knew what was coming.

The little girl came up to where Dawg sat smiling at her. She stopped and looked up at Charlie. "Is that your doggie, mister?" she asked.

Charlie removed his hat and said solemnly, "No ma'am, he's my partner. He belongs to himself."

"How can a dog belong to himself?" the little girl asked.

"He just does," Charlie said.

"Can I pet him?" she asked.

"He'd be disappointed if you didn't," Charlie told her. The little girl looked up at the lady called Bonnie.

"Can I, Bonnie?"

Bonnie looked questioningly at Charlie. Charlie said, "Dawg loves kids, Miss Bonnie. He won't hurt her, I'll guarantee it."

Bonnie looked at the big dog, then at Charlie. Both man and dog tried to smile disarmingly. Bonnie finally said, "Go ahead, Sarah, but be careful."

Sarah walked up to Dawg and Dawg solemnly raised a paw. Without any prompting from Charlie Sarah grabbed the big paw in both of her small hands and shook it and said, "Hi, I'm Sarah." Dawg smiled again and Sarah put her hands on the sides of Dawg's face, pulled his head down, and, before anyone knew what was happening, planted a kiss between Dawg's sparkling black eyes. "And I like dogs," she said while Dawg wriggled all over, which was quite a sight considering his size.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-7-07

 

There was no forgiving in me.
I tossed the poke onto the table.
"Sam, I am going to come back in about three minutes," I said quietly. "When I do, you are going to make a choice."
"Yeah?" he sneered, trying to keep up a good front, but I'd just locked Slade in jail and Sam had just heard about the life sentence,and that I was not done cleaning house. Sam's hands were trembling and he gripped the bar's edge, hard, to try and hide the shakes.
"I have here," I said, picking up the poke, "one thousand dollars in gold. You can take it and ride out and never come back."
"WHAT??"
"I'm buying you out," I said. "Cash money. One thousand dollars in gold. It's more than you deserve."
"A lousy thousand? Why, that's, that's ..." he sputtered.
I unwrapped a brand new knife, freshly sharpened, and slowly, delicately sliced the good rag paper I'd wrapped it in to show the quality of its edge.
"Or," I said, letting the word hang in the air for a long moment. Then, reversing the point, I drove it into the table top. "Or you can take the knife and we can settle this here. Just you and me. Nobody else. No one to watch, none of your bully boys to impress." I drew my own knife and sliced off another ribbon of paper.
Sam licked his lips, eyes darting back and forth as if seeking a way out.
"You have three minutes to think it over."