| General Fiction posted January 5, 2025 | Chapters: |
...12 13 -14- 15 
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Return to the Santa Fe Trail
A chapter in the book Ben Paul Persons
Ben Paul Persons, Ch. 14
by Wayne Fowler
In the last part Ben Paul and Sylvia depart St. Louis after installing a preacher. Leaving St. Louis, they go to Chicago, to the beginning of Rt. 66 and to visit Angelo Caruso’s grave. (Another sermon in this chapter.) Apologies for the length.
Chapter 14
On the way back to their motel, thinking how he did not want to turn on the television, but that it was too early to go to bed, he spied a church up ahead where people were entering. “We’re just in time,” he said, causing Sylvia to recall Malcolm’s entry only a day previous.
“I’m not very presentable,” she replied.
“You are beautiful, my sweet.”
“Okay, then. But let me brush my hair. And you need to tuck in your shirt.”
Ben Paul smiled.
At the entry, a man in a suit, the pastor as it turned out, greeted them, welcoming them to church.
“Folks,” the pastor said as he took the pulpit from the worship leader, “we have guests with us. Reverend Persons, would you and your lovely wife stand and give us a testimony?”
Ben Paul stood while Sylvia remained seated.
“Who among us have not suffered trial and tribulation?” Ben Paul asked. “We have just come from a mountaintop and then today got onto I-70.”
The congregation began laughing, each understanding the trials of driving on 70.
“Like Jonah who after a fantastic victory in Ninevah, wanted to lay down and die… well. We of the new Covenant count it all as joy when we fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of our faith produces patience.”
“Brother, I feel like you have a word for us. Please come up and share what God is telling you.”
Sylvia smiled as Ben Paul strode to the pulpit like a forty-year-old. She’d learned to trust Ben Paul’s following of the Holy Spirit.
At the pulpit, Ben Paul lifted the pastor’s bible, mouthing a thank you to him. After introducing himself with a quick, two-sentence biography, he turned to the book of James and read from the first chapter, beginning with the second verse through the twelfth: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience… Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.
“Therefore, put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.
“I’m not here to preach the armor of God. I sense that this church knows how to fight.”
Chuckles and murmurs of assent emanated from the congregation.
“But do you know what it is to stand? To wait upon the Lord? To renew your strength? Your pastor is going to teach patience.” Ben Paul, from the corner of his eye, saw the pastor nodding an exaggerated nod, up and down like a bobblehead toy.
“Now understand how dangerous it is to lift parts of scriptures, parts of sentences, to make a doctrine of an incomplete phrase. But follow me here. Romans twelve: twelve. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans five six. You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless. Philippians four six. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving.
“Now turn to Romans, chapter five beginning with the first verse. Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope…
“Patient in affliction, at just the right time, do not be anxious, wherein we stand. From patience to hope, patience to hope. To the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.”
“Pastor?” Ben Paul returned to his seat, knowing full well that his talk was hardly a sermon, but that a word from the Lord was often confused by the excessive abundance of words of men. Before he’d taken two steps the pastor, followed by the congregation, stood to their feet praising God.
+++
“Ben Paul. I feel so refreshed. Where are we, anyway?”
“Blue Springs. Headed toward Kansas City.”
Sylvia retrieved the state map from the back seat, taking a minute to refold it, and then carefully opened it to their location. “St. Joseph is where wagon trains headed for the Santa Fe Trail started out. I know your father’s was put together in St. Louis, but still, it came through Independence. Probably reorganized, too. Everybody double-checked their inventory and load. And they’ve had long enough to test their stock.”
“So, we’re going to the Santa Fe Trail?” Ben Paul asked, their decision to head straight home on his mind.
“Are you up for it?” she asked. “I mean…”
“Independence it is, darling. Plot our course.”
“Also,” Sylvia said, “I just can’t go straight home and not tell Mary everything that’s happened. Not that I would forget anything, but it’s all so fresh.”
“I understand completely. And not to forget Benji. Our course?”
“Wonder why Independence?” Sylvia asked.
“My guess is that it’s south of the Missouri. They don’t have to try to ford it, or spend all their money getting ferried.”
“Makes sense. Here it is. Just a few miles from here. Santa Fe Park. Says here you can still see the wagon ruts.”
“From over a hundred years ago. Imagine that?” Ben Paul said.
At the park a half-an-hour later, Sylvia repeated Ben Paul’s words. “Imagine that, because that’s what you have to do – imagine it.”
“I can see them. Right through there. They curve and go that way.”
“I suppose,” Sylvia agreed, reluctantly.
“Did you expect muddy ruts, caked hard ruts?”
“Well, isn’t that what a rut is?”
“I suppose. Maybe they should just say trail, not wagon ruts.
Sylvia nodded her head. “Anyway. No doubt your father rode his horse right through here beside the wagon. He’d already ridden well over two hundred miles and hadn’t even left civilization yet.”
“Are we still on 56?” Sylvia asked.
“50,” Ben Paul answered.
“Good. Dodge City is about a hundred and fifty miles. Think we can make it?”
“Only if you drive.”
“I’m good to drive. Find a place to pull over. We’ve seen roadside picnic tables all over out here.”
“You know,” Ben Paul said. “As monotonous as this countryside is, imagine doing it in a slow wagon train. Or on foot. A lot of people walked alongside.”
“What did they make, fifteen miles a day, I think I read somewhere?”
“Maybe a few more here where it’s fairly easy going. But yeah, not very far.”
Sylvia shook her head. “Be nice when Eisenhower’s highways are done. All of them I mean.”
“Should solve the truck problem,” Ben Paul said
+++
Ben Paul came out from the Dodge City motel office to the car where Sylvia was waiting. “Sylvia, honey. Do you have any money? I’m a bit short.”
“How expensive is this place?” she asked as she dug her wallet out of her purse.
“About the same as we’ve been paying. It’s just been a lot of motels and diners and gasoline, is all.”
“Seven dollars. Do you need my change, too? There might be another dollar’s worth.”
“No. I think it was only four, maybe five something. I’m too tired to remember, exactly. I’ll be back in a minute. Oh, and I already asked him if there was a YMCA in town. There isn’t.”
Ben Paul came back with a key. “Room 109. He gave us a minister’s discount. We might have enough for toast and coffee in the morning.”
“There’s a few slices of bread and a little hunk of cheese left in the cooler,” Sylvia offered.
“Oh. Terrific. You can have them. I want to fast and pray the evening meal.”
“We can share, Ben Paul. I’m not even hungry.”
Ben Paul just shook his head. “The room’s this way. I’ll walk if you’ll drive and park the car.”
The room was only a couple hundred feet away and Ben Paul was waiting to unload as Sylvia pulled up. “I’ll be fine, dear. Really.”
“Well, I won’t eat in front of you. We’ll both be fine.”
Ben Paul set the luggage down and reached to hug Sylvia. “I’m sorry I let us run low, darling. I love you.”
Syvia returned his love – and his hug. “Let’s get showers, and then you can teach me about fasting.”
Ben Paul smiled and picked the luggage back up.
+++
It was a Tuesday morning. Fortunately, the bank opened at nine, and not ten, as some banks did. Ben Paul and Sylvia were the first in line when the doors opened. Five others were in line behind them. It was not a large bank, only about the size of a modest house occupying the ground floor of a two-story, corner building.
After Ben Paul presented his check for cash, the teller excused herself to make a phone call to verify the account. While they waited, two men entered the bank. Unwitnessed by either Ben Paul or Sylvia, but seen by other witnesses, the two lifted bandanas over their faces only after inside and securing the double doors with wedges.
“This is a hold-up. Nobody move. You tellers no funny stuff, or else. They each had pistols.”
Sylvia almost laughed out loud, wondering whether they’d learned their trade watching 1940s cops and robbers movies. Then she remembered their guns. She knew very well how easily they could go off.
Ben Paul thought how ironic that they were witnessing a bank hold-up in Dodge City and whether this was a city skit, like a faux shootout on Main Street. Then he remembered the guns. They were both military-style, semi-automatic 45s, not old west six-shooters.
“You people get over here.” One of the robbers directed the customers to an area away from the windows. “Stay put.”
The other robber went behind the counter, disappearing with one of the female employees toward the vault, Ben Paul presumed.
“You there. Yeah, you.”
He was pointing his pistol at Ben Paul.
“You look like you might not faint.” He pulled a cloth sack from inside his leather aviator jacket. “Take this behind the counter and fill it up with bills. No coins, just bills. And don’t try anything or your woman gets it. See?” He pointed his pistol at Sylvia.
Ben Paul obeyed, having to edge one fear-frozen teller aside. He selfishly left three of the twenties in place, thinking of his and Slyvia’s gas tank and meals until they could get to another town. The next, he had to ask to open the drawer for him. This one, the one who’d gone to make the phone call, had returned. Ben Paul saw something that struck him as odd, but he was too busy obeying and watching Sylvia and the robber who was watching the customers and the front door to think about it. He ended up leaving three twenties in each of the drawers in case some of the other customers were in for cash, as well.
Within what Ben Paul thought was only two minutes, three at the most, the two robbers were headed for the door, the one with Ben Paul’s half-full sack and the other with a canvas satchel that appeared to be heavy.
“Everybody stay calm, “a bank officer said. “The police are on their way. They’ll want statements from each of you.”
photo courtesy Jason Fang, istock
Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Tony Bertelli: protege' of Ben persons (Sr)
Antwan: Tony and Ellsabeth's son
Angelo, La Lama, Caruso: Chicago friend of Ben Sr., Police lieutenant
Malcolm Richards: St Louis men's shelter chaplain
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Tony Bertelli: protege' of Ben persons (Sr)
Antwan: Tony and Ellsabeth's son
Angelo, La Lama, Caruso: Chicago friend of Ben Sr., Police lieutenant
Malcolm Richards: St Louis men's shelter chaplain
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