6 of 6 That was a stop that proved to be very worthwhile indeed. Sam traveled about four miles out of town and this time went off road to the West; where he could look for gold he didn’t have to pay for!A Prospector's Christmas Story
copyright 1999 G.M. "DOC" Lousignont, Ph.D.
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That was a good trip for him. Just like Billy had told him, there were streams back in the timbers leading up to the mountains. Metal detecting the little gullies around those streams turned up three quarters of an ounce of gold. The biggest piece was 8 pennyweight and the next was 5 pennyweight. Then there were a few bits and pieces that totaled just a tad over 15 pennyweight. He was elated!
On the way back through town he stopped at the General Store. As he walked through the front door Billy looked up from his newspaper, "Sam, don’t you ever turn that CB radio of yours on?" "Billy my boy I was too busy finding us some gold!" "You’re kidding, you actually found a few specks?" "Oh yeah, I found a few specks OK. Hold your hand out, here’s a speck for you." Sam let the 5 penny weighter plop into Billy’s hand..
Billy looked at it, and looked up at Sam in disbelief. "No way! You panned this chunk?" "Nope, index to the 20th century Billy. I found that little baby with a metal detector." "No Way! Ellen come and look at what Sam found. OK Sam, now how much do I owe you?" "Well Billy nuggets sell for around $13 to $15 a gram, I don’t know how many Yen that will be for your Asian friends, but so you can make a profit how about I sell the nuggets to you for $9 a gram." "Hey that sounds fair to me so how many grams is in this one?" "Well that one is roughly 8 grams, a quarter of an ounce." "So that would be $72 right?" "Not that one Billy! That one’s a gift from me. After all you’re the one that pointed me in the right direction. Want a little hint on how to make the most of that little beauty? Have a bale soldered on that one and give it to Ellen for a pendant." Billy’s eyes lit up, "Hey that’s a great idea Sam, a guy can always use a few extra points where the wife is concerned. Sam have you got a little time to look at those maps?" "You bet."
Well that was the beginning of a long mutually beneficial relationship between Sam and Billy. During that first year Sam never failed to find gold each trip he made up to Good Hope. He’d always stop and see Billy on the way out of town and sell Billy a few nuggets for his display case.
About nine months into his adventure was when he had found the old miners cabin. What a day that was!
His hunting had taken him about a mile further North, but he was still working the West side; didn’t want to have to pay for all that gold he was finding! Since he had learned the lay of the land he had been averaging over an ounce a trip.
He had become a regular customer at the jewelry store in Desert Rose. He had a pendant made, earrings, a ring, a bracelet, a stick pin, a broach. Why he didn’t dare take Mary around water, if she fell in wearing all that gold she’d sink like a lead weight.
June 4th, that was the date, he still remembered it. He had been metal detecting the little gullies that ran into a creek. He started finding little pieces around a gram and as he worked further up stream the pieces started getting bigger. He was quite a ways from his truck when he came to a place where the South side of the bank of the stream narrowed to a path of about a foot or so because a steep wall of the mountainside jutted out. After negotiating the narrow pathway, and rounding the bend, there it was. He stood in amazement feeling as if he had been transported back in time.
Hunkered in a little canyon in a draw in the mountain was an old log cabin. It was like something out of the movies. He approached with caution yelling, "Anybody home?" But he was pretty sure the only thing that old cabin was home to was probably a few spiders and forest critters. That humble abode probably hadn’t had a human soul inside it for over a hundred years.
He put his metal detector and pick down on the ground and gently pushed the old wood door open. I just fell off the hinges and struck the floor with a thud throwing up a puff of dust. Sam jumped back about three feet and wondered if he’d brought enough clean underwear, because after that little incident he felt as if he might be ready for a change. The suns rays struggled through the two dirty windows that amazingly were still intact. Sam entered the cabin with all the reverence of a person entering church on Easter Sunday. "Oh my!" Sam declared out loud, "If these walls could only talk, what stories would they tell?" There was an old pot belly stove, and the remnants of a wooden frame that looked to be a bed once upon a time. Sitting beside the bed was a small empty wood nail keg that had probably been used as a small table. There was still an old oil burning lantern hanging on a peg by the door. Other than that, the place looked pretty bare.
That was the day Sam decided he should try to claim that area. If the claim went through he could put a few bucks in that old cabin and fix it up. It would beat sleeping in his truck and besides it would be fun.
Well in the months to follow, Sam got his claim filed and accepted. He now had 400 plus acres of prime natural gold bearing beautiful earth. He was sure that his claim would go through because Frank had helped him with it; only time he knew of an attorney to be good for something. During that time he spent his trips to Good Hope not prospecting, but fixing up that old cabin. Basically it was a sound little structure. It just needed cleaning up, and some patching up, and some roof repairs. He even talked Mary and Sally into coming up there with he and Frank to give it the woman’s touch. Under Mary’s protestations, she gathered her cleaning gear and loaded it in the pickup truck. She complained the whole way, while secretly she appreciated being included in Sam’s project. The good natured ribbing stopped about the time she saw the beauty of the mountain retreat where Sam had been spending a weekend a month for almost a year. "Well I guess it is sort of pretty up here." "Not as beautiful as you are my dear wife!" Sam replied. "Oh go one with ya’! You don’t have to butter me up, you already got me going up to this hell hole of yours to clean it up." Sally and Frank were in the back seat giggling like 12 year old school girls over Sam and Mary’s carrying on.
After that weekend of fixin’ and cleaning, and patching, the place had really started to take shape. Mary had even brought a small tape measure and took the size of the windows so she could make some curtains when she got back to civilization.
Every trip Sam made to Good Hope would involve another item of adornment for the cabin. A small table and chairs, some throw rugs, and the biggest item of all, a bunk bed. He needed Frank’s help for that one. It took three trips to get that darn thing hauled in there from the truck. The frame was knocked down and it wasn’t too hard to carry up there. It was easy enough to assemble, a few nuts and bolts. But the mattresses, those were a different story. At first, Sam and Frank figured manly men should be able to stack two mattresses over their heads and hike a mile with no problem. However, they soon found out that those mattresses had a mind of their own. If Sam and Frank wanted to go left the mattresses wanted to go right. They finally resigned themselves to the fact that they would have to make two trips.
After they got the second mattress into the cabin they just let go of it. It fell like a chopped tree onto the cabin floor. "Hey Frank, look at that, no dust!" "Yeah, those wife’s of ours are cleaning fools." Like two Olympic synchronized swimmers they both dove onto the soft support of the mattresses and just laid there exhausted from their mattress carrying marathon. "Hey Frank." "Yeah Sam?" "Are we dying or are we just pooped?" "Sam, I’m too tired to poop, so I must be dying." "Damn you Frank, don’t make me laugh it hurts too much."
Well that had been a fun filled two years, exploring his claim, finding that hot spring with two pools of warm clear water. Perfect for a nice leisurely bath to get the mountain dust and grime off and to soak away the aches and pains of old age. Nearby, down the mountain below the warm springs was a big cave that was always about 74 degrees year round, rain or shine, sun or snow. Sam theorized that the spring must have had something to do with the temperature of the cave. The walls on one side of the cave were warm to the touch and the walls on the other side of the cave were cold.
He even thought about the possibility of making that his winter home, but quickly abandoned that idea when he found the cave was populated with bats, and enough bat doo to fertilize all the desert left around the suburb of Desert Rose. Sam often wondered what ghastly experiment had gone awry when God ended up making bats; hideous little vermin. Logically he knew they were the reason that his mountain resort was relatively bug free, but emotionally he knew they were going to find a way into his cabin some night and suck the blood right out of his body. "YUK!" It gave him the shivers every time he thought about it.
Those were the fun times! The five years since he had moved there after Mary’s death had gotten increasingly more difficult with each year.
The first year was pretty productive, gold wise. He’d usually average an ounce a week of nice nuggets and some little stuff. He could have gotten more, but he didn’t feel pressured to metal detect every day, like he did when he just visited for a weekend. Billy, true to his word, would buy the nuggets Sam wanted to sell him. Sam even dropped his price to $8 a gram. Sam wouldn’t always take cash, many times he just told Billy to credit his account at the general store. The general store and the gas station were the only places he ever spent money anyway, so it wasn’t as if he needed much cash.
That first year was filled with metal detecting, sluicing, reading, exploring, and whittlin’. After all you couldn’t be a real mountain man unless you knew how to carve animals and the like out of pieces of wood. And he was teaching himself to play the harmonica. In the evenings, Sam would take up residence outside his cabin sitting on a porch swing that he had made himself. He’d pick out the notes one by one to "Through the Years", it was, after all, "their" song, and trying to play it somehow made him still feel connected. It wasn’t long before he had mastered "their" song, and every night, just after dinner, the creatures of the forest were treated to the most beautiful harmonica rendition of "Through the Years" that they had probably ever heard. The birds even seemed to sing along with the melody.
Playing that song each evening was Sam’s way of letting Mary know, that she was still part of his soul, and always on his mind.
As the years came and went, so did the gold. It was getting so he could barely find 5 grams a week. He had run up a debt of over $500 at the General Store. Billy kept buying whatever nuggets Sam found, but Sam couldn’t help but notice Billy was getting quite a display case full of nuggets. "You sure you need more nuggets Billy? It don’t look like sales have been too great, looking at your inventory here." "Oh, no, I’ll take all you got." Billy said with feigned enthusiasm. "As soon as vacation season comes around and those tour buses start droppin’ in with my Asian customers, those nuggets will fly out of here." "Well OK, as long as I’m not overloading you." Sam couldn’t help but notice that Ellen was rolling her eyes when Billy was talking about "nuggets flying out of here."
The metal detector had died a few years back, and whatever disease it had his truck caught too because it died soon after. He couldn’t afford to get it fixed, so when he needed to go to town he’d just walk the four miles out of the timber to the highway and catch a ride into Good Hope. Sam had been around those parts long enough that most everyone knew him. Those that really knew him, thought well of the generous old mountain prospector who always bought hard candy at the general store to give to the town’s children. Those people outside of Good Hope that only "knew of him", just considered him some crazy old hermit.
Billy had told Sam whenever he needed something to just power his generator up, and get on the CB radio and give him a call and he would bring the stuff up to him. When Billy was ready to leave the store he’d call Sam and let him know. That gave Sam enough time to walk down from his cabin and meet Billy at the truck. Or Billy would just leave the stuff in the bed of the broke down pick up truck and close the shell to keep the animals out.
When it was in the dead of winter that CB radio was Sam's only life line. If Billy didn’t hear from Sam each day, Billy would hop on his snow mobile and take a run up to Sam’s cabin to make sure everything was OK. Everything was always OK, when he went to check, with the exception that once Sam couldn’t get the generator to start because it needed a new spark plug, and another time, a wire had shorted out in the microphone on the CB. Both times, Billy came to the rescue. He analyzed the crisis, and zoomed off across the snow covered mountain side to return in less than an hour with whatever was needed to get Sam back in business. Billy would also bring the letters that came every two weeks from Sally and Frank. The letters were always full of news and included pictures of Jessica. Boy was she ever getting big. Sam had never been back to Desert Rose since he had left five years before.
According to Sally’s letters, Frank had been really doing well at the law firm. He now headed up their mergers and acquisitions division. Frank was no dummy when it came to playing the stock market either. His hard work had been paying off. He and Sally had built a big new two story home with five bedrooms. Sally said her and Frank wanted a big ol’ fashion Catholic family. "Daddy, Frank and I are going to have so many little kids running around here people will think we’re Mormons!" Sam laughed at that one. In one of Sally’s letters she sent pictures of the new house and a beautiful little two story guest house with a balcony situated out in the back by the pool. It had a wood sign on it that said, "Grandpa’s Place." Always there was the plea from Sally for Sam to come home where he belonged. "Daddy, Frank even had your own little place built out back. Jessie helped Frank make the sign."
Sam would write back and tell them he was fine and he was just way too busy to come back for a visit. The truth was, he was too embarrassed to tell them he didn’t even have a car that ran anymore. Finally, in one of the letters he wrote to Sally and Frank he said, "I’ll make you kids a deal. Sally, you know that buckskin pouch you bought me for my birthday a long time ago, the one you told me you got so I’d have something to keep my gold in? Well when I get that pouch filled up with gold then I’ll come back for a visit." That seemed to quiet Sally down and she hardly ever asked when Sam was coming to live with them in her letters anymore, she’d just write, "How full is that pouch getting?" Sam had once wrote in reply that the fullest that pouch ever got was when he would put it under the tree at Christmas, and the next morning it was always full of coal. That really wasn’t the whole truth. He did put it under the tree each Christmas, just in case, but when morning came it never had coal in it, it never had anything in it. It was just as Sam had suspected. There was no God, and no Santa either.
Sam was snapped back to the here and now by yet another bone rattling shiver that started at his toes and rippled all the way up his body until he felt like his ears were going to turn inside out. "Na, I don’t think that first one could have been a 7.2. My God, the aftershock I just had was at least a 9." Sam was still talking to himself and laughing as he stretched his wretched old frame and tried to get some of his frozen joints to loosen up. He grabbed the big wool blanket off his bed, wrapped it around him, and walked across the wood floor to the old cast iron stove. He nudged the door open and jammed a couple of logs in. He stuck the poker in and stirred up what was left of the glowing embers trying to stir up enough heat to get the fresh fuel to ignite.
Sam shuffled back to the warmth of his bed and pulled the covers over his head. This last five years had seemed like an eternity. He had truly become the man that they sang about in one of those old country western songs, "He was tired of living, but too scared to die."
He laid there under the covers thinking of the things he had to do that day. After all it was December 24th, Christmas Eve day. Mary and he would have been married 57 years today if she was alive, because it wasn’t just Christmas Eve, it was their wedding anniversary too. Even though he was all alone, there were still some things he did every Christmas Eve that were tradition when he and Mary were together. In honor of her memory he still did those things, because he knew that’s the way she would have wanted it.
The cabin started to warm as old faithful started to devour the logs Sam had fed her earlier. The warmth of the morning sun started to stream through the windows and helped hurry along the warming process. Sam finally got up and put on his old plaid long sleeved red flannel shirt and pulled on his overalls. He put a kettle of water on top of the potbelly to start warming and opened a can of beans, and slid it alongside the kettle. "OK so it ain’t hot oat meal but in a few hours I’ll be able to fumigate this place and kill any bats that might have snuck in during the night." A voice in a different tone responded, "Yeah well the strength of your fumigation process combined with the open flame in that old stove may just cause an explosion that blows your sorry carcass all the way into Good Hope." Beans in the morning, definitely not what your mom used to make for breakfast, but they filled the hole.
Sam looked out the window and was relieved to see that the storm that had been predicted had not come during the night. It was cold, but there was only about 4 inches of old packed snow on the ground, and at least the sun was shining.
Sam put on his stocking cap, heavy tattered jacket and his gloves. He grabbed his .22 rifle, and his small hatchet and was out the door by eight o’clock. He had to get himself a rabbit for his traditional Christmas Eve dinner. First he’d clean it, then roll it in flour with salt and pepper, then fry it in bacon grease. Then he’d put it in a dutch oven with about a ½ inch of water and let it steam itself for an hour until it was cooked to falling off the bone perfection. He’d mix up some of those dried mash potato flakes he’d been saving for this occasion and use the juices and leavings in the bottom of the dutch oven for gravy. Umm, his mouth was watering just thinking about it. He might even try to make a few biscuits if he had any biscuit mix left.
Then he had to cut down a little tree for Christmas. Mary always waited until Christmas Eve to put up the tree and decorate it. It was part of the fun and anticipation for her. He didn’t have any lights, but over the years he had collected colorful pieces of clothe that he tied together and used as a garland, and he had a wonderful assortment of hand carved ornaments. Why there were probably over a hundred of little hand made animals and snow flakes and stars, and little nutcracker soldiers that he had whittled over the years. Then there was "The Angel." He had taken great care to carve "The Angel" that adorned the top of the tree, because a long while back he had found the most unusual nugget he had ever seen. It reminded him of a halo. He had carved that angel with such precision and care, that when he was finished he was able to snap the halo shaped gold nugget right into the intricate groove he had carved around the angel’s head. It was magnificent, if he didn’t say so himself.
The only thing he had ever carved that he was more proud of was a nativity scene. He had made a stable from twigs and pieces of bark, and had actually thatched a roof made out of dried mountain grass. He had then painstakingly carved Mary and Joseph, and the shepherds, and the animals and the wise men and even the baby Jesus.
On Christmas Eve night when his wife, Mary, was still alive, after the tree was up and decorated, and the presents had been placed under the tree, Mary would go to the special heavy corrugated storage box. With great reverence and respect she would gently lift out their nativity set. She would sit by the tree and gently unwrap each statue and lovingly place it inside the stable. The little hand painted plaster form of Jesus was always the last thing she would place inside. Before she placed Jesus inside the stable she would raise the small figurine to her lips and kiss it ever so lightly. As she situated baby Jesus between Mary and Joseph every year she would look up at Sam and say the same thing. "We must never forget, or let our children forget, that Christmas is about this little baby Sam! It’s not about presents, it’s not about Santa, it’s about the baby Jesus and what He did for us." "Yes, I know honey, but it’s time that we get to bed, morning will come pretty early when the kids start yelling for us to get up."
"Wo, there’s a fat one, steady, steady!" Crack went the old rifle and Sam had nailed his Christmas Eve dinner with one shot. "You might be old Sam Lewis, but you’re still a deadly shot!" he was talking to himself again, no, make that still!
He threw his, soon to be dinner, in a gunny sack and trudged off in search of a nice little tree. Actually little trees were pretty darn hard to find in those parts. If he didn’t mind a 90 foot fir tree that would take about 2 ½ months to cut down by hand it would have been no problem, there were plenty of those to be had. However he probably wouldn’t have enough garland or ornaments to decorate the thing. It actually took him more time to find the tree and chop it down than it did to find that rabbit and dispatch it.
Then he had to drag that bugger back to the cabin. He must have been 2 ½ to 3 miles away. He arrived back around 2:00 pm or so. After stoking the stove and adding some wood, he opened a can of chili and placed it on the stove to heat while he went outside to gut and skin his kill. He took the skin and nailed it to the side of the cabin. Between the freezing cold and the occasional wayward bird, by spring it would be a relatively clean pelt that he’d use for something.
Sam gulped down a few bites of chili, and started preparing the main course. As the rabbit simmered in the skillet he set up the tree and quickly threw the ragged garland around it, before having to stop and turn the rabbit over to brown on the other side. He pulled out an old cardboard box from under the bed and brought it over to the tree. He quickly hung all the ornaments that he had carved over the years, and crowned the tree with the majestic gold nugget haloed angel.
The cabin was filling with the aroma of fresh fried rabbit, and he hurried to remove the skillet before it became too brown. He lifted the dutch oven down from the shelf and used the tail of his flannel shirt to wipe the dust from inside. He placed the golden brown pieces in one by one, added the water, placed the lid on top and placed it to the rear of the stove where it could slowly bake.
He poured some water into a pan to start warming it for the mashed potatoes and biscuits. "Oh my, I do have some biscuit mix left don’t I?" He went rummaging through his little wooden cabinet and there in the back was an old box of biscuit mix. When he started to remove the box he spotted a can of green beans that had gotten shoved to the rear. "Whoopee!" he exclaimed, "Biscuits and green beans! We are going to have a party tonight!" He prepared the biscuit mix and scooped out four clobs of dough into a heavy old iron skillet and covered them with an old cookie sheet. He opened the can of green beans and put them on the stove to heat.
He suddenly realized that the sun was setting fast and it was getting very dark. He reached for the old lantern and lit it, adjusting the wick so that it would burn clean. He also lit one of his candles that he only used for emergencies, but this was a special night. As the sun fell he directed his attention back to the old cardboard box. It was time. It was time to engage in the ritual that Mary held so dear all the years that they were married.
He knelt down by the tree and removed the stable that he had made. One by one he placed the hand carved figures inside, just as delicately as she had done. When he came to the carving of the baby Jesus he looked out the window, into the great darkness that had fallen outside and said softly, "This is for you Mary." he then brought the baby Jesus to his lips and gently kissed it. As a tear rolled down his cheek he placed Jesus between His Mother and His Father in the stable.
Somehow the evening became solemn. He finished preparing his meal and sat down to eat. It was delicious, but for some reason he just wasn’t as hungry as he had thought. Why this was a meal any mountain man would pay dearly for, but it just didn’t do the trick. It was six o’clock already and black as pitch. There were still a few things left to do before he retired.
He drug the small generator out on the porch and fired it up. Damn thing was getting harder and harder to start. He plugged the extension cord in and ran it under the door over to the old CB radio. He turned it on and adjusted the squelch to quiet the static. "Hey Billy, are you on the air, this is Sam. Hey Billy! Yo Billy!" "Hey Sam I read you loud and clear, you OK?" "Yeah Billy I’m just fine, I just had a great fried rabbit dinner. Got my tree up, and I’m fixin’ to put my nugget pouch under there in case Santa’s got anything in his sleigh to leave me. Then I’m going to get ready for bed. I just wanted to check in and wish you and Ellen and Peggy and wish you all a Merry Christmas. Is Peggy all ready for Santa?" "Oh Sam she’s about to drive us crazy. She’s been ready for Santa since December 1st." "Well that’s how our little Sally was too!" "Say listen Sam, the weather report says there is a doozy of a storm that is going to hit about 2 to 3 in the morning. They are predicting high winds, and 36 to 40 inches of snow. You hunker down up there! Do you have plenty of wood to keep warm?" Sam looked at the pile in the corner, five small pieces. He had forgot to chop and split logs that day with hunting rabbits and a tree. He lied, "Oh yeah Billy I’m all set! I have plenty of wood. I’ll try and check in tomorrow." "Great Sam! You have a Merry Christmas too, by the way, the funniest thing happened today a g…….." "Billy, Billy, are you there? What the hell’s going on?" The generator had stopped. When Sam went to check it he found out why. The generator was out of gas and his spare gas tanks were bone dry too.
Hardly any food left, a big storm coming, not enough wood to even last through the night, and no way to get in touch with Billy. Maybe this was the beginning of the end. If it was, he still had one last tradition to perform before turning in for the night. It was the same thing he had done on every anniversary. He always sang "Through the Years" to Mary. Oh he was a lousy singer, couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but it was the words that were important, and besides, he might sing off key, but he could hit every note on the harmonica with skilled perfection.
He bundled up and grabbed his harmonica and went out onto the porch swing. It was still clear out, no signs of a storm moving in, but then it had another seven hours or so to make it’s appearance. Sam gazed into the sky of a million billion stars and said, "Mary if you are out there somewhere, sweetheart this is for you too!" Sam started to sing his off key rendition of "Through the Years."
I can’t remember when you weren’t there, when I didn’t care, for anyone but you.
I swear we’ve been through everything there is, can’t imagine anything we’ve missed, can’t imagine anything the two of us can’t do.
Through the years you’ve never let me down, you’ve turned my life around, the sweetest days I’ve found I’ve found with you. Through the years I’ve never been afraid, I’ve loved the life we’ve made and I’m so glad I stayed right here with you, through the years.
I can’t remember what I used to do, who I trusted who I listened to before.
I swear, you’ve taught be everything I know can’t imagine needing someone so, but through the years it seems to me I need you more and more
Through the years through all the good and bad I know how much we’ve had, I’ve always been so glad to be with you, through the years it’s better every day you’ve kissed my tears away, as long as it’s OK I’ll stay with you through the years.
Through the years when every thing went wrong, together we were strong, I know that I belong right here with you.
Through the years I never had a doubt we’d always work things out, I’ve learned what life’s about by loving you, through the years.
Through the years you never let me down, you’ve turned my life around, the sweetest days I’ve found I’ve found with you. Through the years it’s better every day you’ve kissed my tears away, as long as it’s OK, I’ll stay with you through the years.
After singing to his Mary, Sam put the harmonica to his lips and played the same tune as he had never played it before. Even the Angels in all of the heavens stopped to listen. The tears flowed down Sam’s weather worn cheeks as freely as the mountain waterfalls in the spring.
October was too long to wait, he was going out of his mind right now. He couldn’t stand another day without knowing that Mary was OK that she was waiting for him somewhere out there in the great beyond.
For five long years he had talked to her, and dreamed about her, but there was nothing, no sign, to let him know, that she knew, he still loved her. He needed to know that she knew, that he missed her and his broken heart ached with a pain that time wouldn’t heal. She didn’t know that he would die a million deaths just to hold her in his arms just one last time.
Sam stood up and dropped his harmonica on the porch. He went into the cabin and directly to the drawer where he kept his 38 revolver, he pushed the old tattered clothes aside and pulled the cloth items from the drawer, as he was about to toss the next item to the floor he saw the soft reflection off of the steely blue finish of the gun. He could barely see the outline of the weapon in the dimly lit cabin. But a smell from heaven momentarily distracted him, it was Mary’s pillow case he was holding. Even after five years it still smelled of her. It was the reason he had packed the pillow case in the first place the day he prepared to leave Desert Rose; it was so he would never forget the smell of the most beautiful woman he ever knew.
He pressed his tear stained face into the softly scented pillow case and whispered, "God Mary I can’t live without you any more." As he reached for the gun something fell from the pillow case hitting his hand and landing on the gun. It startled him. As he looked towards the gun once again, he saw it. It was Mary’s rosary.
Instead of picking up the gun he reached into the drawer and picked up the crucifix attached to the rosary. As he did a warmth filled his body. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before. A quiet calm fell upon him and an inner peace welled up inside of his soul. He looked towards the Christmas tree that was in the corner. He walked to the table where the candle was burning and picked it up. Kneeling down he placed the candle on the floor beside the stable where the baby Jesus was sleeping.
The irony of the moment struck him like lightning. In the stable was the baby Jesus, this was the beginning. In his hand he held the cross which bore the likeness of the crucified Christ, this was the end. "I am the beginning and the end, the Alpha and the Omega, isn’t that what was in the bible?"
As he knelt he looked outside at the clear winter night, the stars were particularly bright tonight, especially one. He held the rosary in his hand, and with his fingers on the crucifix he tried to remember the prayer you said when you started to pray the beads. It was called the Apostle’s Creed. He knew it once, a long time ago, when he was a little boy. How did it go? "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth ….." He didn’t know where the words came from but once he started they flowed from his lips as if he had said them everyday.
He continued to pray. Feeling each bead slip through his fingers brought a quiet peace to his soul. He was touching the beads that Mary had touched so often, and saying the prayers that Mary had said so often. He finished the rosary and rose from his knees to ready himself for bed. Mary's rosary had stopped Sam from doing the unthinkable. When Mary's rosary fell across that gun it was as if something or someone was saying, "If you want the gun, you have to get through me first."
It was only 7:50 pm, but he was mentally exhausted and emotionally he was a train wreck. He dug around in the drawer for an old bottle of sleeping pills. He rarely needed them to sleep but he really wanted to put this night behind him quickly and get a good night's rest. One pill was all he ever needed, that usually knocked him out cold. He popped it into his mouthed and managed to choke it down without a drink.
He put all of the last five pieces of wood into the stove. He could only hope that it would get him through the night and the impending storm. Tomorrow, if he didn’t freeze to death in his sleep, he would probably have to use the Christmas Tree as firewood, that is if he could even get the thing to burn. If worst came to worst he could always chop up a chair, anything to keep things warm until Billy came looking for him on his snow mobile.
Sam headed for his bed when his buckskin nugget pouch that was hanging on the nail by the door caught his eye. "Well I prayed to God tonight, the first time in how many years? We won’t even bother trying to count that high! I might as well go for the whole banana and put my pouch under the tree for Santa, wouldn’t you say so Mary?"
After placing his nugget bag under the tree Sam turned off the old lantern and climbed into bed. He blew out the candle and pulled the blankets up over his head. His body and mind drained from his depressive state, Sam fell into a deep sleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
During the night Sam had a dream unlike he had ever had before. He had dreamed of Mary before but the dreams were always about memories of the good times they had together. In this dream Mary actually came to Sam with a message. "Sam, I love you and I’ve always been with you sweetheart." Sam tried to talk but he couldn’t. Mary was so, so beautiful, but more, she was an angelic presence. She was dressed all in white, and her garments glowed and shimmered. There was a bright white light that emanated from all around her body. She looked just as Sam remembered her but her skin was smooth and soft looking like a baby’s. Gone were the little wrinkles that come with advancing years. "Sam your family needs you. Sally and Jessica and Frank want you with them. And Sally is going to need help when our new Grandson is born. "What grandson?" Sam thought to himself. "Sam! Johnny and I are fine and we are happy, but I worry bout you. Sam, it won’t be long and we will be together again for all time, but until then you have to take care of our family. Quit being such an old fart and do what I’ve asked you to do." Mary smiled and faded away just as she had come.
The morning sun shining in Sam’s face woke him. "Oh man, what a night! I’m not taking any more of those damn sleeping pills, those things must have gone bad from being so old." Suddenly it struck him as strange that the cabin was still relatively warm. He walked to the window to have a look. Perhaps the storm had passed them by again. "Wo Nellie, there must be at least 36 inches of snow out there if there’s an inch!" But the sun was shining, so that probably helped heat up the cabin. Sam forced the door open as far as he could and stuck his shovel out to clear some snow away. "Yow! The sun might be out but it was still below freezing. Sam pulled the door shut and scampered over to the old stove to drive off the chill. He opened the door and stoked the coals, "There sure looks like there was more than five pieces of wood in there. Oh well!" Sam grabbed the kettle, filled it with water and put it on old faithful to warm up.
Looking over towards the tree he stood shocked and somewhat bewildered by what he saw. There, laying beside his buckskin nugget pouch, was his harmonica. But hadn’t he left it on the front porch? "Oh boy the tricks old age plays on the mind, not good, not good at all!" Sam bent over to pick up his harmonica and put his nugget pouch back on the nail by the door. But when he attempted to lift the pouch the weight of it pulled it from his grip. "What the hell is that stuck on?" Sam said out loud as he lunged for the pouch a second time. That’s when Sam realized that it wasn’t stuck, it was stuffed. Sam felt the weighty bag and said out loud, "Jesus Mary and Joseph, am I still dreaming? I better go back to bed and get up again. Sam poured the contents of the stuffed bag onto the table. "Nuggets, gold damn nuggets, a whole bag full of gold nuggets."
Sam ran to the window, there must be reindeer hoof prints and sleigh tracks out there somewhere. But there was nothing. Sam was afraid to look back at the table for fear it was all a hallucination. Probably a residual side effect from taking sleeping pills that had expired about four years ago. He turned slowly and looked, NOPE, those were nuggets OK, a whole damn batch of them, yeah this was it, he had gone right out of his mind. This looks just about like all the nuggets that I’ve ever pulled out of this claim.
His promise to Sally came rushing back to him, "I’ll make you kids a deal. Sally, you know that buckskin pouch you bought me for my birthday a long time ago, the one you told me you got so I’d have something to keep my gold in? Well when I get that pouch filled up with gold then I’ll come back for a visit."
Well he didn’t know if that dream with Mary in it was real, but his promise to Sally was, and that big bag of gold was, at least he thought it was. Now, how did he get a hold of Billy? He checked the gas tank on the generator just in case. "FULL!" he had a strange feeling that's what he would find, full right to the very top.
"FULL, now you’re full of gas when last night there wasn’t a drop? Oh brother I better get off this damn mountain quick because I need serious professional help! Oh yeah! Warm cabin, walking harmonicas, bag full of gold, full gas tank, help, lots and lots of mental help that’s what I need." Sam was talking to himself as he pushed his generator out on to the porch and pulled the starter rope. "You’re going to start the first time aren’t you? Yep!" as the engine roared., "I knew it! I’ve been poisoned. Those damn old sleeping pills have perforated my brain or something worse probably."
Sam checked his watch, it was 7:00 am, time for Billy to get up. He was having a crisis and Billy needed to get up. Sam grabbed the CB radio microphone. "Billy, Billy, wake up, are you up, this is Sam, come back." "Morning Sam and Merry Christmas!" "Yeah Merry Christmas to you Billy, hey, I’m sorry to wake you up." "You didn’t wake us up Sam! Peggy has had us up since 6:00 am." "OK, great!" Sam said matter of factly, "Can you come and pick me up in about an hour on your snow mobile?" "Well sure, is anything wrong?" "No, No, nothing wrong I’m just going to visit my Sally, son-in-law and granddaughter for awhile." "Well hey, that’s great. I’ll see you in about an hour." "OK, I’ll be ready and thanks, and oh tell Ellen and Peggy Merry Christmas, Ho Ho Ho." "Will do Sam!"
Sam turned off the generator, and pulled his big red duffel bag off of the shelf. He took all the ornaments and "The Angel" off the tree and wrapped them inside what few wearable clean clothes he had left. Then he carefully wrapped each of the hand carved members of the nativity scene in a clean sock and stuffed everything in his bag. He lovingly took Mary’s pillow case and took the Rosary from off of the nail keg bed stand where he had laid it the night before. He put the rosary back in the pillow case where it belonged and gently folded the pillow case placing it in his duffel. He pulled on his overalls, and straightened up the old place. It was just about time to go so he put on his old heavy coat, and grabbed his harmonica and his buckskin bag. He looked in there just one last time to make sure it really was full of nuggets. "Yep, full to the top! I’m crazier than a crap-house rat." He shoved the old chin flute in one pocket and his bag full of gold in the other.
Sam went out on the porch and sat on the swing waiting to hear the hum of Billy’s snowmobile. He was whistling Jingle Bells and stopping every now and then to laugh and talk to himself out loud. "Ha! Crazy, plum out of my mind, nuttier than a squirrel’s nest, …..dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh.." Sam could hear the snowmobile now and got up and walked off the porch. He was standing on one foot and then the other as he impatiently waited for Billy to thread the trees and zoom across the frozen stream. Billy appeared from between the thick pines throwing bursts of snow all the way. He slid to a stop about fifteen feet from Sam. "Merry Christmas to ya’ Sam, your chariot awaits." "Merry Christmas to you Billy, let’s get going I got a lot to do and we’re burning daylight!" "Well then climb on, and hang on Sam!" Off they sped through the newly fallen snow throwing white wintery fluff in their wake.
When they arrived back at Billy’s General Store slash home, Ellen met them at the door with a cup of steaming hot cider. "Come on now you two get in here before you catch your death of pneumonia." "Thanks Ellen, but I don’t have a lot of time I got to get some things bought for my family and get back to Desert Rose. I’ve got a long way to hitch hike." "Sam you’re not going to hitch hike all the way to Desert Rose, the plows have already been through but there still ain’t going to be nary a soul out on Christmas day." "God will provide Ellen, you above all people should know that. OK Billy we have to talk business, I know you got all the nuggets you need…." "No, Sam, that’s what I was trying to tell you on the CB last night and then your radio went dead. A customer came in here yesterday afternoon and bought every last nugget I had. Paid top dollar too! Didn’t even try to bargain. He said he was a collector. He gave me my asking price of $14 a gram! That sure made our Christmas!" "Billy that’s great! I don’t suppose you need anymore." "You bet Sam I’ll take all you got!" "Sam pulled the buckskin pouch from his coat and poured the contents on the glass case." "WOW Sam those are some beauties you got there, what have you been doing hoarding them?" "Billy, don’t ask, you wouldn’t believe me if I told ya’!"
"Well let’s weigh these little babies and see what we got. You got twelve ounces three grams Sam. Let’s see at the usual $8 a gram that’s about $3010." "You got that much cash Billy?" "Sam I told you that guy bought all the nuggets I had and he paid cash. Ellen’s been upset because she doesn’t like us having that much money in the house but the bank doesn’t open until tomorrow. I’ll be happy to get some of this cash out of here, it makes me a little nervous too."
Sam said, "Great! Are you open for an old coot that needs to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?" "You bet Sam, just help yourself." Sam hurriedly grabbed presents for Sally and Frank and little Jessica. Then he grabbed a new pair of overalls, some new underwear, socks, and red flannel shirt. He found a nice new red sweater and jacket, and a matching stocking cap. A pair of gloves and a brand new pair of black leather boots and he was all set. "Billy while you figure this up can I use one of your rooms to change into my news Christmas duds?" Ellen chimed in, "Sam, you come with me upstairs, why don’t you take a shower and get yourself cleaned up and I’ll fix you a quick breakfast." "As long as it’s quick Ellen, I got a ways to go. But that shower sounds good!" "You go on Sam I’ll figure your bill, and get the finances taken care of." Billy said.
Sam showered and shampooed, man it felt good. This was the best he’d smelled in a long time, he thought to himself. He then momentarily wondered how bad he smelled before that shower. He dried off and ran a comb through his long hair and snowy white beard. "Oh yes, new underwear and socks, ain’t nothing like new underwear and socks to make a man feel like celebrating." He put on the new red flannel shirt and pulled on his new denim overalls, and slipped on his new boots. He washed and dried his old wire rim glasses and got them balanced in just the right place on his nose. He emerged from the bathroom to the smell of eggs and bacon, and the aroma of fresh coffee. As he walked into the kitchen Ellen turned to put a glass of orange juice by his plate and exclaimed, "Why Sam Lewis, don’t you look grand! You’re by far the spiffiest mountain man I ever did see." Sam smiled shyly and asked, "This breakfast for me?" "Indeed it is!" "Oh man does this smell good, I can’t even tell you when the last time was I had scrambled eggs and fresh coffee." "I canned those strawberry preserves myself last fall." Ellen interrupted.
Sam wolfed down his breakfast. He was truly fascinated at how good real food tasted. "Oh Ellen that was delicious, I am stuffed. Let’s go downstairs and see how Billy’s coming along." Sam patted Peggy’s head as he walked through the living room. She was sitting by the Christmas tree playing with a doll. Merry Christmas sweetheart." "Merry Christmas Mr. Lewis." "Momma’s going to go downstairs with Sam, can you be a good girl and start tidying up so we can start getting ready for church in a little bit?" "Yes momma."
Sam and Ellen came down the stairs into the General Store where Billy was straightening some merchandise on the shelves.
"Hey Sam, ain’t you the man! You look mighty handsome for some old hermit." They all laughed. "Your bill came to $379.32 So after subtracting that from your gold I still owe you $2,630.68. Let’s just make it an even $2,631." "Yeah Billy but take out that $500 plus dollars I owe you on my account." "What $500 dollars is that Sam." "That money I owed you for all that stuff you let me take on credit." "I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam, you paid that off a long time ago?" "Oh really? And what were you accepting as payment, pine cones? Now I don’t know what’s going on here but I know I owe you folks some money and it’s time to pay the piper." "Sam, I swear, your account is paid in full! I think you’ve been up in those mountains too long." Sam had to agree about being up in the mountains too long, but he still wasn’t convinced about having paid off that money he owed. Not wishing to argue, he said, "Well Billy, if you don’t know how to keep books any better than that there’s nothing I can do. Besides I don’t have time to argue with you, I got to get my thumb out."
"Sam, Ellen had a great idea. I called a friend of mine that lives in Hawthorne, Jim Sabra, and he has family over in Nelson and said he’d be happy to drop you off at Sally and Frank’s home. I told him I’d drive you to his house. So we got to get going, because he wants to be on the road by 9:30." "I hate to take you away from your family on Christmas Billy." "Sam it’s not a problem, I’ll be back by 10:30 at the latest." "Well, that would be great, I got the address of Sally and Frank’s new house in the pocket of my old coat." Sam grabbed his old coat and reached in the pocket for the crumpled letter. He felt the letter and his harmonica and retrieved them, transferring them to the pocket of his new red coat.
"Ellen could you do me a favor and take these old clothes and, well uh, ….." "How about if I burn them Sam!?" Ellen interrupted. "Well, yeah, that’s probably as good an idea as any, as long as you’re sure the EPA won’t give you a ticket. "
"Come on Sam we gotta’ go!" Billy said, as he handed Sam his empty buckskin bag and a stack of hundred dollar bills. Sam took the money and took five one hundred dollar bills, he turned to Ellen and said, "Now I don’t want no argument about this," he said as he squeezed the money into Ellen’s hand, "it ain’t much considering all you folks have done for a lonely old mountain goat like me over the years, but you put this in Peggy’s college fund. NO, not a word!" Ellen gave Sam a look of protestation but then grabbed Sam and gave him a hug and a kiss on his bearded cheek. Sam tturned to Billy, "Are we going to go or we going to stand around jawin’ all day? Besides I think I’m allergic to something in here my eyes are starting to water." Sam said, as he wiped a tear away.
The trip to Hawthorne and on to Nelson and Desert Rose seemed like it took forever, but by 3:00 PM Jim Sabra had delivered Sam safely in front of Sally and Frank’s new home. Sam was amazed at the climate change that 5 ½ hours made. It was below freezing in Good Hope and in Desert Rose it was 57 and sunny. Much too warm for his new red heavy jacket. Sam thanked Jim for the ride and promised that they’d stay in touch and that he would take Jim out prospecting sometime. It’s something Jim had always said he wanted to try.
Sam waved as Jim drove down the street. Sam threw his red duffle over one shoulder and his new red jacket over the other. He approached the mammoth two story residence and knocked. A pretty young girl came to the door. She might have been 5 years older than the last time he had seen her but there was no mistaking the fact that it was his Grandaughter Jessica. "Merry Christmas Jessica!" Sam said with a big smile.
"Mom, Dad, come quick there’s a man at the door that looks like Santa Claus!" Just then a very pregnant Sally came around the corner from the living room as Frank ran down the stairs. "Daddy!" Sally screamed as she rushed past Jessica and threw her arms around her father. Frank got his hugs in too and said, "index home Sam." "Hold on, not so fast." Sam said, "I’ve just come for a little visit." Sally looked at him sternly and said, "We’ll see!" "Hey you guys what’s going on said Jessica?" "Oh honey I’m sorry." said Sally, "This isn’t Santa Claus this is your Grandpa, my daddy." "Grandpa!" Jessica screamed as he launched herself into Sam’s arms. Sam picked her up and hugged her and kissed her beautiful little face. As he turned toward the street to hide his tears from Frank and Sally, he kept repeating to Jessica, "Your Grandpa sure has missed you sweet heart." Then something caught Sam’s eye. There sitting in the driveway, was a big white Chevy Suburban, with a big puddle of water on the ground by the tires and a melting clump of snow lying on the ground as if it had fallen from the undercarriage. Where would snow come from around these parts, Sam was thinking.
"Daddy," Sally interrupted his thoughts, "You have to at least stay until the baby is born, it’s going to be a boy, your going to have a Grandson daddy, and we are going to name him Sam Nathaniel." "What?" Sam said, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Come on Sam get yourself in here, or are you going to stand in the doorway all day long, we have some heavy politics to talk about." Frank said. "You still a bleeding heart liberal?" Sam jabbed, "Sam you haven’t changed a bit!"
As Sam walked through the door still carrying his grand daughter he looked over his shoulder at the blue skies of the desert landscape. He raised his eyes towards a huge white cloud and whispered, "I’ve come home Mary!"
Remember dear friends, there may be gold in them there hills, but if you want to know what’s really precious look no further than those who love you.
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