The Last Paradise by Michael Kasenow

Author:Michael Kasenow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michael Kasenow
Published: 2020-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

Newt and Maxwell finished constructing the nets. They poured water on the sand so that their holes wouldn’t collapse, then augured and fixed the posts. Maxwell used his knife to slice the trawler’s net in half. After the last nail was pounded and the nets hooked, the orphans ran onto the field and kicked balls as if they had rolled from heaven—just for them. This was a treat, a special gift, something rare. Sister Mary wore a smile like a fashion and blessed Newt and Maxwell in various ways. Even Sister Ruby was pleased behind her gruff demeanor.

“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I, Mr. Hayes?” Sister Ruby asked, with a curious eye.

“Hope not,” Maxwell smiled. “In my youth, I was a diff’rent man.”

“And I a different woman. Deadwood in ’76, I believe?”

“Too young, I’m afraid,” Maxwell smiled.

“Well, I know I’ve seen you before. I was there when the forty-five went through Hickok’s head. Nuttal and Mann’s saloon. Sure you weren’t there?”

“I would have remembered that. They say he held aces and eights. That true?”

“Deadman’s hands. He sure did. I picked up the cards myself. Some guy named McCall shot him. I was a—dancer,” she smiled, knowing they knew better. “That day changed my life forever.”

Why Sister Ruby decided at that time to reveal her epiphany is not known. Perhaps because she was more like Newt and Maxwell, especially in her youth. Perhaps she tried to bury and forget the brains and blood splattered on the poker table and bar room floor, and the swarm of newspaper parasites and ten-cent lies. This was her confession. What better priests to absolve her? She knew the legend, Wild Bill Hickok. How well, she did not say; but, she knew the man. What she saw was death and nothing more, and more is what she needed. Such is the comfort shared by castaways who have walked on the jagged edge of perdition. Jesus was now in her heart, but the human soul is nourished by memories, haunted as they may be.

Sister Mary walked a ways with Newt and Maxwell on the sandy road. Newt carried the long auger over his shoulder. The Gulf splashed beyond the dunes. The sun settled.

“God has blessed us with your kindness, Newt. And I thank you, too, Mr. Hayes.”

“Maxwell,” he reaffirmed.

“God had little to do with it,” Newt smiled. “Max and I augured in the holes.”

“You’re a silly man with a kind heart. The children love you.”

Laughter and fun danced through the dusky air. Nuns and orphans raced in a polite frenzy enjoying the boundaries of their fancy goal posts. It wasn’t much of a prize, but when you have little, a small gift is a big reward.

“How long will you remain in Galveston, Mr. Hayes?”

“Maxwell.”

“Yes, Maxwell, how long?”

“Until it’s time to leave.”

“Maxy’s waiting for a sign from heaven,” Newt added. “He’s saving for a train ticket to anywhere.”

“Preferably Alaska.”

“Anywhere, everywhere, and beyond.”

“The road to salvation begins with a single step,” Sister Mary offered. “I do hope we’ll enjoy your company again.

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