St. Agnes’ Stand. Thomas Eidson

scar that ran the length of his jaw had been made by a knife, and the hole in his leg had been made by a bullet. And he had already killed one man in front of her and was ready to kill more. And he had used poor Sister Ruth’s torn body as a decoy, debasing it as much as the savages had. He swore a great deal. He showed no sign of religious feelings.

      She couldn’t answer the questions pounding in her head. She tipped her chin forward on to her breast. ‘Dear God,’ she whispered, ‘I have never questioned Your wisdom or Your authority … I’m not questioning them now. I only wonder … wonder why You sent this man to save the children. And how I should deal with him. I thank You for Your blessings and Your guidance.’ She stared at her hands, knowing that she had received no answers.

       DAY TWO …

      The horned toad had wiggled itself down into the sand leaving only the spikes on its back and the longer horns on its blunt-snouted head exposed. He guessed it was hunting flies. Swanson was leaning against a large rock in the shade watching the lizard hunt. The Hawken lay across his lap. It was close to noon and Sisters Elizabeth and Martha had just finished feeding the children their dinner. Sister St Agnes was in the cave, probably praying, he figured. The dog was sleeping on its back in the shade of the wagon, its long legs helter-skelter in the air. The lizard dropped what seemed like a clear shade over its eye, then it disappeared. Lying half buried in the sand, it looked like a newspaper drawing he had once seen of something called a dinosaur.

      The heat was brutal.

      Swanson scanned the road and then looked to his right at the children. They were sitting quietly in a band of shade next to the cliff. They were tired and listless and hot. Their faces were burned and he knew that their throats were as parched as his own. He searched the sand around him and began to pick up and examine small pebbles. Some he kept. Some he tossed away. Then with a movement so quick it was hard to see, he grabbed the squat little lizard out of the sand.

      The twins were closest to him. ‘Come take a look.’ He had pulled his sombrero off and laid it over the hand holding the horned toad.

      The girls stood slowly and helped the little ones, Bonnie and Anna, to their feet. Jessica came too. Only Millie and the boy, Matthew, stayed where they were. The five girls formed a half circle around him.

      ‘What you got?’ Anna asked.

      Sister Elizabeth had wandered over and was standing looking out at the canyon, listening. He knew she didn’t approve of him.

      ‘I’ve got a Texas devil under my hat,’ he said.

      ‘Go on!’

      ‘I do.’

      ‘Naw,’ said Jessica, ‘there ain’t no such thing as a Texas devil.’

      ‘There must be because I caught him. He’s under my hat. Go ahead and take a peek.’

      Jessica reached a hand out slowly towards his sombrero and then jerked it back and ran in place on the tips of her toes for a few seconds. The others shrieked with the thrill of it.

      ‘If you’ve got him, what’s he look like?’

      ‘Well, he’s got horns on his head … and spikes on his tail and when he gets mad he spits blood.’

      The children screamed and laughed.

      Sister Elizabeth had turned and she was staring angrily at him, her arms akimbo. He paid her no mind.

      ‘I’ve got him sure enough. But before I show him to you, I want you each to take a pebble out of my hand and put it under your tongue and keep it there.’

      ‘Why?’ It was Anna. She was small and lightly built, but she was smart and bright-eyed.

      ‘Because it will make you feel better. These are magic pebbles.’

      He held his hand flat and let each select a pebble. They put them in their mouths.

      ‘Good. Now let me count to five … one, two, three, four … and five. There, Feel better?’

      They all nodded. He knew they would. The small stones would help them fight the thirst by drawing saliva into their mouths which they could swallow.

      ‘Good. Now who wants to be the first to see the Texas devil?’

      ‘I will.’ It was Betty, the eleven-year-old. She looked scared but she reached a hand and grabbed the crown of the sombrero and yanked it off. As she did, Swanson shoved the lizard at her and growled. She jumped up and backward and the other children yelled and ran for the pure joy of it.

      ‘Really, Mr Swanson. You should be ashamed of yourself scaring the children and telling them you have the devil in your hand. What kind of nonsense do you want to put in their heads?’

      Swanson stroked the lizard’s belly gently with his finger. He didn’t look up at Sister Elizabeth. ‘I was just trying to give them some fun. They don’t look like they’ve had much lately.’

      They came back giggling and ready to run.

      ‘Let us see him.’

      Swanson held the horned toad out for them and one by one they touched his spiny backside. Sister Elizabeth was walking toward the cave.

      ‘You said he could spit blood.’

      Swanson glanced across the enclosure to make sure the nun wasn’t watching him. ‘And he can. Stand back.’

      When they had cleared a pathway in front of him, Swanson teased the lizard with his finger for a moment, then pointed its head toward the open area and squeezed his stomach some. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but the pressure made him nervous that he was about to be eaten and the little dinosaur let go. A bright red stream of blood spurted out of one of his eyes a full five feet across the sand. The children’s eyes got wide. Anna stooped and touched her finger to the red trail on the sand.

      ‘It’s really blood!’ she screamed. ‘He is the Texas devil!’

      The children ran away again.

      A few minutes later, Jessica came back and asked for the Texas devil. Swanson gave it to her with the promise she wouldn’t pester it. She took the little creature to the other children and they spent an hour or so playing with it and laughing. He felt better.

      Later, when it was close to evening and the strip of shadow near the rocks had reached halfway across the enclosure, when the Gambel’s quail had started calling each other for the night roost, Anna came and stood in front of Swanson, holding something behind her back. Her face was thin and smudged with dirt. She looked happy.

      ‘I have something for you, Mr Swanson.’