Number Six

Chapter 6-XXXXXX

         After demolishing the pie, Nate leaned back in his chair and groaned in pleasure.  Josephine stood and asked if he wanted to come into the parlor while the other women cleaned up.  “Can I help?” Nate asked half-heartedly. “Some other time, perhaps.  I need to talk with you before you go out tomorrow.” Josephine led the way across the front hallway. 

         They sat facing, she seemed a bit unsure where to begin. After taking a deep breath, she began. “First of all, my name is Josephine Smith Young. I am a widow, I was married to a distant relative of Brigham Young, his name was John.”  Nate started to ask a question, but Josephine held up a hand to stop him. “I need to get this out of the way. I am telling you this so that you know that when I provide the information and instructions that I have for you, you’ll be sure that I am legitimate. John and I were married 5 years ago, President Young sent us East to do the very same thing that you were asked to do.  When we settled in the capital city, John began to work for a sympathetic senator.  He eased his way into his good graces and began to meet with other staff members who were close to the enemy as part of his work.  One of their inner circle overheard his last name and they happened to see him meet with a known Mormon. They put two and two together and decided that he might be on to them.  One evening, John was killed on his way home from work by a ‘robber’. Brother Taylor helped me with the arrangements. Then, he sent me back to Salt Lake with a bodyguard.  President Young asked me if I would carry on John’s work, and when I agreed, he sent me to my parents house here. I was to run it as a safe house. By the way, Mother’s name is not Young, it is Smith, Francis Smith, no relation to Joseph.” Nate jumped in, “So where does Carmen fit in? She seems to be in on everything.”  “Carmen’s people were travelling from the gold fields to work on the railroad.  Some rowdy’s beat her father and mother to death, luckily Carmen hid and was found later by some Saints who lived nearby. My mother volunteered to take her in.  She has been with us since she was a little girl.  She is trustworthy.  Besides, folks tend to overlook her, so she hears things that would never be spoken of in front of me.”  Josephine explained.  She continued, “We mostly take in boarders or guests if you will, who are like you.  Engaged on some errand for the Lord…or Brigham Young, it makes no difference to us.  My father was with Brother Joseph from the early days, he was spiritually ‘adopted’ by the Prophet, and later by Pres. Young.  He remained faithful until his death, Mother as well; he taught me, from the days when I first learned to read, that I should follow the Prophet. What about you Ephraim?”

         Nate saw that she was sincere about her faith, and her sincerity branded him.  He was continuing his mission purely for personal reasons.  The beating that the Sergeant Major inflicted on him had shamed him and caused his heart and mind to burn with the need to avenge his ‘manly honor’ upon that demon and his devil boss, the Colonel. He had to answer her, so he flippantly said, “Actually, my name is Nathan, Nathan Nephi Thomas.  My father is an ‘adopted’ son of President Young as well.”  And here he stopped, he didn’t want to discuss his motivations or his private vendetta that he had sworn to himself that he would fulfill.  So, he turned the conversation back on her, and asked, “I guess you are the person that was to fill me in on the details of this latest “errand” that President Young has sent me on?”

           “Nathan? Your name is Nathan.  Yes, I am that person. Are you surprised, Ephraim? Oh, I mean Nathan.” Josephine acted confused about his name, but Nate was wondering if it was really an act. She already knew who he was, when he was due at her house, and now it appeared that she knew what was next on his ‘to do’ list.  “She’s playing games with me now.” he growled to himself. He decided to play along, “I think that ‘Ephraim’ will be my name while I am here.  Anything else will be confusing to our friends and may alert our enemies that something is up.”  Josephine smiled; it irritated him that she was in this position of power over him.  She composed herself and got down to business, “There is a packet of instructions for you, I will get them in a little while, and I also have some news for you. Your old boss, the Colonel is in the area, usually around Carson City, sometimes Sacramento.  He is not in the Army any more but he still uses the ‘Colonel’ title to gain access to important people.  Predictably, the Sergeant Major is here too, you saw the sign to his establishment on your walk up the street from the stage station.”

         Nate’s face darkened in anger and his eyes squinted dangerously as the news of his mortal enemies nearness sank in.  She paused, as she saw the obvious rage at this revelation showing on his face.  His intensity caused her to wonder if he could put his anger aside and finish this mission.  She continued, “Ephraim, please listen to me. If you can’t set your feelings for those two aside, and I understand…I will recommend that President Young send someone else to do this.”  Nate put his hand to his forehead, squeezing his temples and covering his eyes. “I promised myself, I promised!  Those two will die!” he said silently.  His hand squeezed tighter, he grimaced behind his hand and wondered what he could say that might satisfy her for the time being.  Josephine waited patiently, watching the inner struggle he waged to master his feelings, his body shook with the effort.  Finally, he released his breath in a sharp gust and released his head from the tight grip. 

         Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet her steady gaze. His normally blue eyes were almost black with the hate he felt for these evil men. It frightened her a little. If she hadn’t been told of his ordeal and had President Young’s vouch-safe of him, she might have had him moved to a different house. Nate spoke slowly and emphatically as he answered her challenge, “I…have…made…promises! I…will…keep…them! My…promise…to…the…Prophet,…I…will…keep…first!  He paused, then, “After that, I make no promises to him or to you.”

         Josephine nodded, satisfied, she said, “Fair enough.  Now, in the packet of papers there will be information about the activities of the man you found in Washington, you know his name, right?” Nate nodded, “One of them, at least. Assistant Secretary Buford Underhill Tollman.”  She smiled grimly, “He’s using that name out here too. When you reported that, Brother Taylor investigated and found that he was not who he said he was.  In fact, he was well known to Brother Taylor, he was Alpheus Simeon Strong, the Apostate. This man had been in Nauvoo.  He made up to Joseph, tried to impress everyone with his piety. But Joseph wasn’t fooled.  He discovered that “Brother Tollman” was taking advantage of his association with ‘The Prophet’ to seduce women and collect ‘tithes’ from any Gentile business trading with the Saints. After confronting him with his falsehoods, seductions, and treasons, Joseph sent him packing. When Joseph was martyred, he resurfaced and claimed that Joseph wanted him to be the Prophet.  When the elders pointed out that he had been excommunicated and they knew why, and if he knew what was good for him he would not pretend to be a prophet, he fled, changed his name and vowed to make the destruction of the church and Brigham Young, his one mission in life.”

         Nate added, “I saw that in Washington, he would hold forth in one of the taverns down the street from the War Department and tell stories about ‘ol Brig’. How he had 100 wives like one of those Eastern Potentates in one big harem. How all of the Mormons would jump if ‘Brig’ hollered frog. Once he said that he had seen him with his hair slicked back and there had been horns on his head.  Folks there believed everything that Mr. Assistant Secretary had to say. I found out that he had told even bigger lies to President Lincoln and had made friends of those who wanted Nevada carved out of Deseret. They planned to make claim to all of the mineral rights that were not already claimed. He had something to do with General Connor invading Deseret, too. I saw the letter on Colonel Morgan’s desk. What does President Young want me to do about Bufo…Alpheus, I mean?” Josephine shook her head, “I don’t know exactly. The instructions weren’t all that clear. Maybe they will make sense to you.” Nate didn’t care if they made sense or not tonight.  Between the big supper, the let down after his rage at Colonel Morgan, and the long day, he was dead tired. So he said to Josephine, “If you’ll get me the packet and excuse me, I’ll look at them before I go out tomorrow. I think I’m ready to turn in.” She made a show of looking at the clock on the mantel, then, with a quirky look, said, “So early?” 

Old Time Rap

1983

Turning thirty and not yet twenty five

In my head.

I’m saying thank you, I’m still alive.

 Thinking about yesterday, all things that are past.

Nostalgia creeps in, 

And memories too good to last.

A future lies out there in some dingy haze.

I am sure it’s where

Most men forget to gaze,

With its’ uncertainty and menace.

That

Makes me

Want

To grin and

Grimace

In the same

Breath

That makes Life.

Rides death...

Life and glory

Rolled into one,

Leaving no survivors.

Michael D. LeFevre           

 copyright January  1983

Number Five

Chapter 5-XXXXX

         Nate walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the delicious aromas of a home cooked meal that reminded him of home.  Josephine was not there, just the old woman and the girl.  They looked like they had spent the afternoon bathing and arranging their hair.  They were wearing, what, he was sure, their Sunday best. He wondered how they had found time to finish cooking and clean up at the same time. Both women glanced up as he entered the room, their eyes shining, cheeks rosy (from the heat of the room, he thought).  The older Mrs. Young spoke first, “We’re eating in the dining room Brother Ephraim, Josephine insisted. It is on the opposite corner of the house from the front parlor.”  Nate nodded, “I ‘d be glad to help Sister.  Anything for me to do?”  She shook her head and turned back to her work, Nate turned and strolled up the hall.

         Nate was greeted by a polished dark wood table. It was dressed with a snowy white lace cloth, large plates, fragile glass goblets, and silver knives and forks. He stood and looked in wonder at the richness of the spread. Just how had a young woman like Josephine garnered such a collection of valuable furnishings. “My father was a lucky miner, he worked hard and saved his money.” Josephine answered his unspoken question. Nate turned to see her standing in the doorway leading from the hall.  His eyes widened at the vision standing there.  She had spent some time cleaning up. Nate had a hard time not ogling her from her pretty feet to the top of her glistening head. Her hair was brushed until it gleamed and fixed in a very fetching way with a Spanish comb sweeping it back from her ear. “I see that supper is ready, please wait while I get Mother and Carmen.” Josephine swept off to the kitchen the skirts of her sky blue gown swishing lightly across the waxed wooden floor.

         A trio of females came bearing the fruits of their afternoon labor, one behind the other.  In their hands were bowls of green beans and ‘taters and carrots in a creamy sauce, a plate of sizzling steaks, and hot bread rolls steaming from the oven. Nate jumped to seat them like a gentleman each in their turn.  Carmen started to back away when he went to her chair and slid it back, Josephine nodded at her and said, “It is alright, he don’t bite.” He smiled at Carmen and drew a shy smile in return.  When he made to help the older Mrs. Young, she curtsied and gave him a bold look as she sat in the offered chair.  That left the lady of the house to attend to.  He faced her and bowed as gallantly as he ever had in the ballrooms of the east, she blushed prettily again, but curtsied as properly as he and waited for him to draw the chair back.  She settled into the chair on the opposite side of the table and thanked him. And waved him to his seat at the head of the table. “Will you say grace, Ephraim?” Josephine asked. Nate agreed and proceeded, “Dear Lord, we thank you for the day, bless this house, bless this food that it may do us good, bless the hands that prepared it. This, we say in the name of the Lord, Amen. Please pass the ‘taters Miss Carmen, it has been a long day.”

         Josephine directed the platters of food like a general on the battlefields he had so recently left.  The dishes and platters kept passing to him and he labored to sample all of the savory food that came his way.  Once, twice, a third time, his plate was filled with ‘taters, and tender vegetables.  Tasty, hot beef, that he could actually chew unlike the tough, stringy, salted, barreled beef in the Army camps. And the bread rolls, warm enough to melt the sweet butter into golden streams that threatened to stain his clean shirt as it dripped onto his chin.  “Ma’am, do you do this every day?” he managed to say between bites.  Josephine just stared at the performance that he was giving them.  Old Mrs. Young and Carmen were mesmerized by the amount of food that he was consuming.  “Ma’am?” he waited for her reply.  She smiled broadly at him, “No, Ephraim, a little bird told us that you would be here today, so we made ready. Expecting that you would be hungry…You are, aren’t you?” she wondered, barely restraining a laugh at her own jest. That bit of information stunned him, freezing his jaws, in mid-chew. “Really? You knew that I would be here today?” he couldn’t believe it.  “I didn’t know it myself. There was a big chance that I wouldn’t even come here.”  Before she could respond, his eyes darted left and right at the other dinner guests, realizing that he should keep some things to himself until he could be sure of their allegiance.  Josephine caught the sudden reluctance that showed in his face, so she winked at her mother and asked her to take Carmen and prepare the sweet that had been made for dessert. “Mother, if the coffee is fresh enough, could you bring us some of that too?” The older Mrs. Young looked at Josephine with indignation and replied, “Oh course it is fresh I made it for us to have with the pie. Humphh, do you think I wouldn’t have decent coffee? Ephraim, do you like cream with your coffee?” she asked him.  “Yes Ma’am, I do, no sugar though” he answered.

         Josephine waited until the other women had left the room before she began to speak.  “You have been watched since you left Salt Lake City, news of you has been sent along ahead of you.  We knew that you would go to the Bucket of Blood, and after that, Wally was only going to recommend that you come here.  So there you are, we knew that you would be a guest for dinner.”  “Who is we?” Nate asked.  “Your friends… you have seen the symbols on the note, your selection of ‘Ephraim’ as your cover name was brilliant.  It diverted attention from your real name and challenged Brother Wally with a password.” She continued.  Nate was getting angry at the control that was being exerted on him.  He had made his own plans the instant that he read the note telling him that the Colonel was in the area. Now he found that his every move was being scripted from Salt Lake.  Even this woman, make that, these women knew what he was to do next.  “Why was there a mis-spelling on the note?” Nate asked.  Josephine smiled, “Another code word, ‘not our enemy’, n-o-e.”  Nate rolled his eyes. She went on, “Even though we had the on-going reports we couldn’t be sure that someone hadn’t replaced you along the way.  Until Wally recognized you from an image sent from the Prophet, we had to be ready for anything.”

         Carmen and the older Mrs. Young made a point to make a noisy entrance. They brought two trays one with an ornate coffee pot and delicate small cups and the other with a fresh apple pie.  Josephine ended the discussion about the mission, “We’ll talk about this some more later, tomorrow, before you go with young Wally to find a horse.  If you do find one, please feel free to bring it here.  You can use the neighbors’ stable, it has been arranged.”   Nate nodded in agreement, his eyes on the pie. It had been some time since he had been fed so well. The food at Brother Taylor’s farm where he had recuperated from the beating had been well prepared and tasty.  But it had been late winter when he was there and the food was from the last growing season and had come from the root cellars and the salted barrels of meat.  This dinner had been fresh and varied and he intended to enjoy every bit of it, even if he was miserable from overeating.  “Could I have a bigger piece of that pie, Mrs. Young?” Nate asked as she divided the sweet.  She grinned broadly, pleased that her work was being enjoyed. “Carmen could you go and find a bigger cup for Brother Ephraim, I think he’ll want more than a demi-tasse to wash this down.” Carmen hurried to do as she was asked.

Number Four

Chapter 4-XXXX

         In his room with the door closed, he breathed a sigh of relief.  He had been through three years of Hell and then in the last 6 months the bad luck had doubled up on him.  The Colonel had discovered him with hands up to his elbows inside the wall safe behind his desk.  Holding him at gunpoint, he had called that Devil, Sergeant Major McGillicuddy into the room.  The Sergeant Major had systematically beaten him silly, trying to determine Nate’s motives.  Finally, he had slipped into unconsciousness, blessed blackness, which must have seemed like death to the two other men.  They had carried him out to a waiting carriage and driven him to the lower part of D.C. next to the Potomac.  They had thumped him a couple times more and then dumped him in the brush.  “If the bastards hadn’t been so damned lazy they would have took me all the way to the river and drowned me.”  Nate recalled.  Instead, several hours later, near dawn, a light drizzle had brought him around enough that he crawled up to the roadway where a passing Samaritan had noticed him and his wrecked uniform and hauled him to the nearest military surgeon.  The Doc’s in the hospital had treated him as best they could and then left him in the hands of the Lord.  A sweet angel, Laura Anne, had then nursed him for a week until he could recall his name and unit, and in remembering, he recalled the circumstances that had brought him to this condition.  He had decided that he must remain nameless until he could get himself out of town; so he had not uttered his name to Laura, instead, he gave the name of someone that would come to his rescue.  Brother Amasa Taylor was his superior in his true ‘mission’.  He had been summoned by the hospital.  Recognizing the situation, he had taken Nate into his custody, and then to his farm in Maryland. 

         While Nate had recovered the rest of his wits, he had reported everything that he had found over the preceding 3 years.  And as he described the last effort to get verification of his facts, he swore that he would kill the Sergeant Major and that black-hearted Colonel if he ever crossed their path again.  Brother Taylor had decided that it would be best if he remained ‘dead’.  He delivered an unrecognizable body to the Army with a cock and bull story that matched the basic facts, and he was officially declared dead at the hands of thieves.  Since Nate had not given the names of next of kin, declaring himself an orphan, when he had joined the Army, no notice went out to tear at the hearts of his loved ones.  Brother Taylor had sent a telegraph to Salt Lake City saying that ‘all is well’. 

         He had outfitted Nate with a couple of sets of clothes in the style of a low rank soldier, mustered out and sent home.  He also provided a Sharps carbine made to use the newfangled brass cartridges, a McClellin saddle, a black leather portmanteau, $20 silver dollars and a belt, meant to be worn under his shirt, to carry them in, and finally a railway ticket to ‘End of Tracks’ Wyoming.  He would meet someone else there who would arrange a fast horse and companion the rest of the way to Utah, where he would meet with the Prophet for a more detailed report.

         Brigham Young had listened to his report, then sent him to the Comstock in Nevada with the words, “The answers we seek are there. ‘And a Lamb shall lead them…yessiree, a Lamb, I say’.  What say you Brother Nathan?”  “What could I say?” thought Nate. “I say that I serve the Lord and I serve you, President Young.  I go where I am called to go.” he said out loud.  The Prophet smiled at Nate’s words.  “You sound resolute, brother.  Just remember, ‘…a man’s enemies are the men of his own house.’ Someone will meet you there with further instructions.  Go to the Bucket of Blood saloon, your contact will seek you out. Watch for wolves in sheep’s clothing my boy. Be on your way brother, and May God Bless You.”

         So, here he was, in an all white boarding house run by a snappish woman, her sassy mother and a quiet, young Mexican woman.  Sighing again, he looked around the room.  Deciding that he needed more than a hand washing at the pump, he sat the portmanteau on the bed and lifted the pitcher from the basin and headed out of the back door in search of the water pump.  Nate pumped for what seemed like an eternity before the water flowed out of the spout and into the pitcher.  “This place likely could use a man’s hand about.  I bet the leather’s all wore out in this pump” he said to no one in particular. “I’ll ask her if she wants it done. If I’m here long enough that is.” He walked back to his room with the water.  Closing the door behind him he poured a generous splash of water in the basin and set the pitcher down.  Slowly, he began to undress. He reached behind his waist and removed the heavy Bowie knife and put it on the bureau by the basin. His smelly, sweat stained, dusty, coat and vest he dropped on the floor, followed by his stiff, filthy shirt. He unbuckled the leather money belt and set it beside the knife.  Dreading taking off his boots, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the heavy cavalry boots from his feet one at a time.  “Whew, it’s been a day or two since I had those off!” he continued by taking the ruined stockings off and dropping them on the floor.  Wriggling his toes in their newfound freedom, he stood and unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers and stepped away from them.  Nate was undecided about his union suit, but finally decided that the underwear had to go too.  So off they went.

         He unbuckled the straps on his portmanteau and pulled his spare clothes out and unrolled them on the bed. The shaving gear and small bottle of Bay Rum aftershave were next onto the bureau.  He felt a bit wicked walking around in the altogether in ‘Mrs. Young’s’ house but judging by the stench of his clothing and the grime on his body, he guessed it was a necessary evil.  He carried a cloth for washing and a larger scrap to dry off. His soap (a small hard bar of store-bought lye soap) was wrapped in the wash cloth, he put it in the water to soften a little, then set to it.

         Washed, dried, he stropped his razor on a boot top, swirled his stiff bristle brush on the soap and lathered his face(if you could call it lather). Nate stood in front the mirror above the bureau and scraped a week’s worth of whiskers off.  As he was making the last passes on his neck, a sharp knock on the door startled him enough that he nicked his skin.   An oath flew from his lips before he could restrain it. A gasp from the other side of the door was followed by, “Ephraim! There will be no coarse language in this house while you are here! Do you hear me?” Josephine’s sharp voice called out. Suddenly shy, he covered his groin with the free hand, worried that she would barge in. Nate answered quickly hoping to keep her out while he groped for his clean trousers,  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry it just slipped out.  What do you want?” he said as he slipped into his pants.  There was a short pause, then, “Would you like some hot water to wash with?” she replied.  Snorting at the timing, Nate answered her, “Too late, ma’am, I got some water from the well and I am nearly finished, thanks for the offer, though”. Josephine asked, “ Would you like someone to call you for supper?” Nate said that he would and she left him alone.  He finished with the razor and wiped the stray soap and blood from his face.  Cleaning his shaving gear in the nearly black water, he wondered if he could toss the used wash water out of the window without getting into trouble. Deciding that he would take a chance at it rather than walking it outside, he stuck his head from the open window and looked both ways carefully noting the distance to the ground. Seeing the coast was clear he tossed the water out over the ground.  Rinsing the basin with clear water he threw it out too.

           After he was fully dressed in the clean clothing, he sat on the edge of the bed and surveyed the pile of stinking dirty clothes.  He decided that he wouldn’t worry about that right now and reached for the rifle that he had leaned against the wall near the headboard of the bed.  He opened the action and extracted the thumb-sized cartridge from the breech and put it aside. “Plenty of time before grub.” he murmured.  He dug in the leather case for a coiled string that had a bit of iron tied to one end and an oily scrap of cloth on the other.  Dropping the iron down the barrel of the rifle, he pulled the patch through the barrel. He led the rifle up to the light and peered through it looking for any fouling or rust. Seeing the shiny spiral grooves lit by the window, he was satisfied with the condition of the barrel but the outside was still caked with the dust of the trip and so he took a corner of his drying towel and tore it off and wiped the grit from the outside of his rifle and the cartridge. He reloaded and leaned the weapon back by the bed.

         Fetching the money belt from the bureau, he smoothed it across his lap as he sat back down and opened it. Carefully, he withdrew the remaining coins and counted them.  He put two of them in the small pouch sewn inside the waist of his trousers, the rest he set aside. He pulled out a folded paper that one of the ‘brothers’ had slipped to him as he was getting on the stage in Salt Lake.  He unfolded it and re-read it, “Your Col. is in Carson City. He ain’t the only wolf howling thereabouts.”  It was signed with a symbol for the astrological sign of Capricorn, the traditional sign of the Tribe of Dan.   

         “That demon never went anywhere without his shadow, the Sergeant Major.” Nate’s mood was spoiled at the memory of their last meeting. He had the advantage, at least; they thought he was dead. They were alive and still up to their nastiness.  Well, he hoped to remedy that, the nastiness and especially the living.  Savagely he wadded the paper and thrust it and the remaining coins back in the belt.  He was fastening it closed as he heard his name being called to the kitchen.  Standing, he lifted the mattress and laid it on top of the boards and put the mattress down and smoothed the bedclothes to hide his activity. Girding his loins, well his boots anyway, thrusting the Bowie into the top of his boot, knowing that she would crow if he scratched her chair with the hilt hanging out of his belt. He went to eat.

Nate at risk

Well, ol' Nate is in a pickle now.  His old boss and nemesis, the Colonel is in the vicinity, he hasn't even got his information from the contact here in the Comstock.  He isn't even sure who that is.  Could it be Wally? Josephine? He doesn't know where to look.  maybe Wally knows.   There was that note he sent to Josephine, it had at least three signs on it that he knew of...the funny 'Y' at the beginning of the first sentence, the name he supplied to Wally, Ephraim, and the little squiggly serpent at the bottom.  All symbols related to the Danites.  He wasn't officially a Danite, but his father was an 'adopted' son of Brigham Young.  He had been offered to the Prophet by his father for this task, and he had been trained in the secrecy necessary to operate in the network.
Then there was that misspelled word 'noe' in the first sentence, he had no clue what it meant but he knew that it was intentional.  The sour on the pickle was that Josephine knew all of this stuff too, he could tell  by the look on her face when he had handed the note to her.  So, now we have to see what happens next.

Number Three

Chapter 3-XXX

         Nate wobbled a bit as he stood in the shadow of the alley.  Drinking on an empty stomach hadn’t been too wise he guessed.   He looked at the note again, he wondered just who this “Mrs. Young” was.  Gazing up the hill, he groaned out loud, between the whiskey and the long coach ride, he was almost done in.  “Oh Hell!” he roused himself and set out.  Twenty hot and sweaty minutes later he walked out onto the level road in front of the white house that had been his goal.