Prelude To War

BIRTH OF A KILLER During the afternoon of May 17th, 1856, thirteen-year-old Ezekiel Harp Evers was very proud of what he had accomplished yesterday. Four days ago his dad took him aside and said, “I’m going to have you take those two heifers that freshened up this spring over to Fort Scott to the auction. You’ve been there with me enough times to know how it operates so I expect you to make out fine. I have other things I must do in the morning. Besides, it’s time for you to start learning the business side of farming. Don’t take anything less than twenty dollars ahead for those cows. They’re prime stock now. Any questions son?” dad asked with pride and affection in his voice. “Oh, take the Spencer Carbine, its scabbard and at least a full reload of cartridges in your pocket just in case. You never know what will happen when you’re out and about.” “What horse should I take tomorrow?” “Take the Devil, he’s the best horse we have, and that’s a His far piece to go, all the way to Fort Scott and back.” “Okay Pa, I won’t let you down.” “I know you won’t Zeke, but be careful, these are uneasy times.” His dad watched as Zeke walked toward the barn. He thought ‘There is so much more to that kid than the run down at the heel riding boots he wears, or my castoff, faded old bib overalls he’s got on. Those are still a little bit baggy on him. I’ve never been able to figure out why he hasn’t thrown that tattered old plaid shirt back in the garbage where he found it after I had thrown it in there. Then there is that battered old straw hat on his head. Come to think of it, that’s the perfect topper for the rest of his garb. His dad was well aware that Zeke’s sharp mind coupled with his strong, agile body, supplemented by ultra-efficient reflexes, and first-class senses, all these together made him a force to be reckoned with. Early the next morning, Zeke was on the trail to Fort Scott hazing the cows in front of him. By the time he got to the fort, the heifer part of the sale had ended. He put the heifers in the holding pen for cattle waiting for auction and put the Devil in the corral provided for auction attendees. With the stock taken care of, he walked over to watch the auction. When he tired of the auction he strolled around the streets of the fort enjoying the merchandise displayed in the windows of the shops. At dusk, he bought a quarter’s worth of meat pie for his supper. Yawning, he crawled into the stables haymow to sleep. The next day he arrived at the auction just as it started. Bulls were the first lot on sale today. He found out that heifers were going to be the third lot. So, while he waited he sponged the cows off. This made the cow’s coats gleam. It was a little past ten when it was Zeke’s turn to parade the two cows past the would-be buyers. The auctioneer opened the bidding and the prospective buyers gathered around to examine the two heifers. They asked Zeke questions that he answered as honestly as he could. The first bid was nineteen dollars apiece. That bid was immediately raised to twenty-one dollars ahead. Zeke said, “Come on gentlemen, these are prime stock who have just freshened up. Which of you will own these two beauties?” A little guy with a handle-bar mustache said “Thirty dollars apiece. The other bidder said, “That’s too rich for my blood, I’m out. Zeke collected the sixty dollars from the buyer, signed the bill of sale, and paid the auctioneer’s clerk the auction fee. He was very proud of the $52.00 in his poke as he collected Devil and readied him for the ride home. As he rode out of Fort Scott, he couldn’t help but smile as he thought back on how he had been able to get those would-be buyers to bid against each other driving the price well above the market average. He couldn’t wait to hear the words of praise he expected from his Ma and Pa. He was still several miles from home when it started to get dark, so he pulled into a field alongside the trail, hobbled Devil. ate some jerky from his saddlebag, rolled up in his poncho, and fell immediately into a deep sleep. He was up and on his way at sun up. As he approached home, his nose picked up the smell of wood smoke mixed with the stench of burning flesh. He reached a spot in the trail where he expected to see the house and barn in the distance, but nothing was there except a few tendrils of smoke twisting their way to the clouds above. Zeke exclaimed “Oh no” and his heart skipped a beat or two. He jammed his heels into Devil’s belly until the black reached an all-out run toward home. As Zeke entered the lane to the farm he could see the pile of ashes where the house had been. The barn wasn’t visible either. All the buildings had been burned down. Even the outhouse wasn’t in its usual place. Everything he could see that had been alive when he left, were now carcasses bloating in the sun. The stench of burning flesh was coming from ’Henry’, the mossy horned bull that had serviced the farm’s heifers in their hour of need. Henry had wound up being BBQed in the house fire. A flock of buzzards was pecking at every dead animal visible. Out toward the edge of the new cornfield, his dad had decided to put in this year, a flock of buzzards was circling. Zeke headed toward that flock. As Zeke approached the buzzards flew up in what appeared like from the distance like a swarm of insects. Zeke could now see his father’s body lying face up between the cornrows. He could now see his dad’s face. The buzzards had left it looking like a piece of raw meat. Especially disturbing were the empty eye sockets. The empty eye sockets were so riveting that Zeke hardly noticed that the tip of his nose was missing also. When Zeke climbed down and took a close look he could see his dad had been shot in the back of the head, execution-style. There were fresh hoof prints from two horses. He noticed one of the horses had a chip out of its left front shoe. ‘That must be a stone chip’ he thought. The rider of this horse was the one that had climbed down and delivered the kill shots to his dad’s head. Zeke sobbed as he carried his father’s body to a patch of grass near the still-smoldering ruins of the house. He lay the body gently on the ground and covered it with his poncho so the buzzards couldn’t get at it anymore. After giving his father’s corpse a parting glance, he went looking for his mother and sister. He prayed they had hidden and escaped the holocaust. This, however, was not to be. More buzzards led him to their bodies. He found them at the edge of the big cornfield behind the smoldering house. The buzzards had gotten to their eyes, nose, and skin also. Their clothes had been torn off, they were raped and then their throats had been cut. Here, again, he found fresh hoof prints. The prints that lead to his mother’s body had a chip in its left rear print. He thought, ‘Now I can be sure of knowing at least these two murderers if I find them tonight.’ He dismounted and sat down by his mother, cradled her in his arms, and wept. After a time, he never could figure out how long, he carried each of the bodies into a little glade with its flowers and babbling brook. This was the family’s favorite picnic spot. Here, through a vale of tears, he buried them. He then stood at the foot of the graves and recited the only prayer he knew. Struggling with tears running down his cheeks, hoarseness in his voice, and anger in his soul he said, “Dear God in heaven Hallowed be your name, may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.” Then he raised his head to the heavens and added, ”Now, get ready to deal with the bunch of evil souls I intend to send you.” He stood a minute or two with his hat in his hand thinking about each of the people who had just been erased from his life and said goodbye to each of them.