The Raid

Posted on July 27, 2015 by silaschampion

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On October 12, 1864, about a dozen Confederate raiders crossed the border from Missouri to Davis County, Iowa. They were dressed in Union uniforms and proceeded to blaze a trail of robbery and intimidation across the county before escaping back into Missouri. In the process, they killed three men and terrorized the citizens of the county.

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Much of Iowa’s experience with the Civil War came in the amount of men who did not return from battles in other states. This raid brought the war home to the state and is arguably the northernmost incursion of Confederate forces during the war. There are some other places that disagree with that assessment. In the grand scale of the Civil War, it was such a minor event that there aren’t many records. The raid largely seems to be more of a cash grab than anything because the raiders took all the money they could find.

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The best record of the raid comes from the report of Lieutenant Colonel S. A. Moore. He writes a description of the raid in the verbose and dramatic style of the nineteenth century. Here is an excerpt:

“His life was spared. Why, we can not tell. The fiend whose hands were reek- ing with the blood of Niblack’s neighbors turned away, his hand released its grasp on the deadly weapon at his side. Did one single pang of poignant grief and remorse for his deeds of robbery and murder rend his heart and light up with one ray of conseience [sic] the darkness of his soul? It is a secret known only to Him whose ‘all-seeing eye’ sleeps not.”

The raiders escaped back into Missouri with cash and several horses. The local militia was assembled, but they never caught the Missourians. The normally peaceful county remained on heightened alert for some time, but there were no more raids.

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It’s hard to imagine today the violence and travails of the people who lived through the Civil War. This was a one-time event, but in many states, things like this were a constant occurrence. Sadly, in some parts of the world, events like this are still commonplace. If you visit the scene of the raid today, you will find peaceful fields and pastures. May it always be so.

Here is a link to S. A. Moore’s full account.

Here is a link to a local historical group that hosts a reenactment.

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The Dog’s Pew

Posted on July 2, 2015 by silaschampion

The pew belongs to the dog now. She lays on it waiting for her master to come out and scratch her ears while he drinks his morning coffee. Or maybe at night they’ll sit together and watch the birds settle on the meadow and the sun set over the cornfields. Quietly, she’ll keep him company as he thinks about the weather, crop prices, beef prices, and machinery.

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The pew didn’t always belong to the dog. Long ago it belong to an old country church where people would gather to worship and seek solace from life’s travails. It is said that the men who built the pew never returned from the Civil War. Like the pews, they did their duty. That pew and others like it served the church faithfully for many years. They were built to last, but nothing lasts forever, and eventually the pews were replaced by some with padded seats.

So now the pew belongs to the dog, but it is still a good place to find solace from the worries of life. If you sit and watch the birds on the meadow and scratch the dog’s ears the problems of life seem far away. The faithful pew and faithful dog will join you in silent contemplation as nature’s cathedral plays around you.

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Captain Elizabeth Finds a Cook

Posted on June 6, 2015 by silaschampion

Captain Elizabeth Finds a Cook

By Silas Champion

The morning sun found Captain Elizabeth standing behind the wheel of her ship, the Flying Turtle. It was her favorite place to be in the whole wide world. That’s because from there, she could go anywhere in the whole wide world. All she needed was some water and wind.

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Right now, though, she also needed some breakfast. A rising sun and steady wind did nothing to curb her hunger.

“Logan,” she bellowed over her shoulder. “Go see what’s taking that lazy cook so long with my breakfast.”

“Aye, Captain,” Logan said through a mouthful of his own breakfast. Unlike the captain, he did not wait for the cook but grabbed some stale bread from the kitchen. He scrambled down below decks to yell at the cook.

Heavy boots stomped up behind Captain Elizabeth. “Everything is in top shape.” Emmey sounded disappointed. As first mate, she enjoyed ordering the crew around, and if everything was in top shape she had no one to yell at. That was soon to change, however.

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “We should make port in time for lunch.” She grinned. “Maybe we should hit the town for a spot of tea.”

Emmey laughed. “Let’s give those old ladies something to talk about.” “Those old ladies” were the esteemed and upright citizens of the port city of Updownton. The citizens of Updownton were as proud of their proper manners as they were their comfortable harbor. They loved the money and goods that ships like the Flying Turtle brought in, but they didn’t care for rowdy sailors. And of course they did not care for girls who wore pants and carried swords. Such a thing was just not done.

“Land, ho,” shouted Harrison from the crow’s nest. As the smallest crewmember, he liked to spend time high above the deck and all the rowdy, stomping sailors. Since he had the best eyesight, Captain Elizabeth didn’t mind if he stayed up there.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Emmey said, “We’ll be there in time for lunch.” She raised her voice. “All right, you scalawags, let’s get this ship in order. We make port this morning. “ A thunderous cheer broke out from the deck and the sailors scurried to carry out their tasks.

“Here’s your breakfast.” Logan returned with a steaming bowl of porridge. “I had to threaten him with a beating, but he got it finished.”

“Maybe we should get a new cook in Updownton.” Elizabeth took the bowl.

*******

Two hours later, the Flying Turtle nestled gently against the dock in Updownton Harbor. It took two more hours to unload the cargo, and by then everyone was hungry and a little grumpy.

“Okay, you lot,” Captain Elizabeth shouted. “When you get your money from Emmey, you are free to go. Stay out of trouble and be back on the ship by sundown.” The crew gave another thunderous shout and scrambled to get their money from the first mate. She yelled at them until they got into a line, and fifteen minutes later, they scattered through the streets to scandalize the good citizens of Updownton.

“Phoebe, make sure to get us some more gunpowder.” Elizabeth pointed. “And no fighting this time.”

“Yeah right,” snorted Jonathon. “Like that will ever happen.”

“Hush, Jon,” Captain Elizabeth said. “I want you to get us some new sails. These old ones are reaching their limit.”

“What should I do?” Logan asked.

“I want you to go along and keep help Phoebe stay out of trouble,” Elizabeth said.

“Every kind of trouble?” Logan asked. “Like what if someone attacks her? Can’t she defend herself? What if somebody needs a good beating?”

“Enough questions. Get out of here, both of you,” Captain Elizabeth shouted, and the two sailors scrambled down the gangplank.

*******

Captain Elizabeth and Emmey stepped into the Dapper Delights Teahouse and Restaurant. The collective gasps of scandalized ladies made a breeze that ruffled the large feathers on their fancy hats.

“Well, I never” and “what on earth?” were the most common loud whispers among the diners. Captain Elizabeth and Emmey paid them no mind but followed a properly shocked waiter to a corner table. The stomping of their boots and clanking swords filled the awkward silence.

Elizabeth and Emmey doffed their own ornate hats, although they were not at all like the ladies’ hats. For one thing, they were splattered with sea salt and perhaps a bit of blood here and there. Only after the waiter had brought their drinks did they look at the diners around them.

“Hello.” Captain Elizabeth nodded at a portly woman at the next table. “What is good here?” The woman just stared and tried to close her gaping mouth but failed.

“Well, I used to think everything was good,” replied another woman in an icy voice. “But now I’m losing my appetite.” She was a tall woman with knobby elbows and angry eyes.

“They say that happens to the elderly,” Captain Elizabeth said with a grin. The woman’s white face turned red and she sputtered. Before she could speak, Emmey reached over and whacked her on the back so hard the fine china rattled.

“Don’t choke. You’ve got to chew your food before you swallow.” She whacked her back again. Somehow the woman got even redder and let out a screech like a cat with its tail caught in the door.

“Don’t touch me.” The woman leaped to her feet. “Oh, I shall have to burn this dress.” She stepped toward the kitchen. “Pierre! Pierre!” Her voice got shriller with each word. The other good citizens all looked anxiously at the door. A moment later, a burly man in an apron and a towering chef’s hat burst through the door.

“What is going on here?” His angry eyes focused on Emmey and Elizabeth.

“These two pirates are disrupting our meal,” Skinny Red Face said, “How can you allow such riffraff in your restaurant?” Pierre’s eyes got wide, and he patted the woman’s hand.

“There, there, calm down. I shall take care of everything.” Pierre turned to Captain Elizabeth. “Perhaps you, uh, ladies would be more comfortable at some of our other, uh, establishments in town.” Several of the fine ladies nodded in agreement.

“Why? Is your food not good?” Elizabeth asked. Pierre coughed, and for a moment it looked like his head would explode. When he spoke, his voice was like steel.

“My food is the best in town–no, in the country.” He paused. “It is, however, somewhat expensive.” He stopped talking and tapped his fingers together.

“If it’s expensive, it better be the best in town.” Emmey glared at him. Captain Elizabeth pulled a huge diamond ring from her pocket.

“Thanks for the warning.” She held the glittering ring up in the candlelight. “It’s good that I’m always prepared.” The women in the room could barely stifle their gasps. In spite of all their wealth and finery, none of them owned a diamond that big. Pierre’s eyes changed from hard to greedy in an instant. The only thing he liked better than cooking was diamond rings.

“Probably stolen off a dead man, no doubt,” the plump woman said looking at the ring with jealous eyes.

Elizabeth nodded. “Well you are partially right, he was almost dead. In fact, he traded this very ring for his life.”

“So you stole it.” The fat woman’s cheeks jiggled her disapproval.

Elizabeth smiled. “Let’s just say he thought he could kill me, and when the tables were turned he offered this ring in exchange for his worthless life. Though I’m not sure it was worth it.” She turned the ring and it mesmerized the crowd. Then she looked at Pierre.

“So how about you scurry back in the kitchen and make us the meal of your life.” She sat the ring on the table. At the same time, Emmey moved her sword, causing it to bang against the chair. Pierre swallowed. He looked at his fancy customers. He looked at the ring. He looked at the sword.

“I’ll see what we can do.” He rushed back into the kitchen, ignoring the angry shouts of the other diners. For the next three hours, Emmey and Elizabeth enjoyed a meal fit for a king. Fit for several kings, actually. It was far more than they could eat.

The good citizens of Updownton decided it just wouldn’t do to dine in such company and left the restaurant. Emmey and Elizabeth did not let that keep them from enjoying their meal. In fact, they sent a waiter down to the local orphanage and soon everyone enjoyed Pierre’s cooking. The chocolate cake was especially appreciated.

As they walked slowly back to the ship, Elizabeth and Emmey noticed the dark clouds rolling in over the green hills outside of town. Updownton had such a great harbor because it sat exactly where the Updown River met the sea. Already they could see that the river was rising fast.

“We should get out to sea,” Elizabeth said. “Ships are always safer at sea.” They found their ship still rocking gently at the dock. Sailors bustled around, loading supplies and readying the ship for departure. Jonathon stepped up as they got on board.

“I figured you would want to get going.” He pointed at the clouds.

“Good job,” Elizabeth said. “Is everyone here?”

“Everyone but Phoebe and Logan and the cook.” Jonathon shrugged.

“I’ll go find them,” Emmey said. As it turned out, she didn’t have to go anywhere. A moment later, Logan and Phoebe appeared, followed closely by a large mob of outraged citizens.

“What did you two do now?” Elizabeth said as they scrambled aboard.

“Nothing, it’s all a big misunderstanding,” Phoebe said.

“How was I supposed to know you weren’t supposed to drink out of the sacred bowl?” Logan said.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that it’s called THE SACRED BOWL,” Emmey replied. The small mob stopped on the dock.

“You must hand them over to us,” a fat man in flowery robes shouted.

“I don’t think I will,” Elizabeth said. “Why don’t you go home and clean your sacred bowl?”

“They have violated the sacred bowl that protects us,” Flowery Robe shouted. “They must pay.” The crowd surged forward and Elizabeth pulled her pistol.

“Well, unless the sacred bowl can protect you from a bullet, I think you might want to step back.” The crowd stopped. No one trusted the sacred bowl that much. At that moment, bells sounded over the city and the crowd panicked.

“The floodwaters, the floodwaters,” Flowery Robes shouted, and the crowd scattered.

“Let’s get out of here!” Elizabeth shouted, and the sailors scrambled to get the ship away from the dock. The water had already filled two of the streets and kept rising. Rain poured from dark clouds as at last the ship moved away from the dock. When they reached the middle of the harbor, Captain Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Look at all the water.” Emmey pointed at the town. More streets were covered and people scrambled to higher ground.

“Over there! Over there!” Harrison’s sharp eyes spotted something in the floating in the water. After a moment, they realized it was the roof of a house. Four children clung to the top, screaming and crying.

“Let’s get them,” Elizabeth ordered, and they slowly brought the ship alongside the frightened children. One by one, they plucked them from the raging water. For the next hour, they sailed around the harbor, rescuing pitiful flood victims. They even rescued Mr. Flower Robes, although Phoebe thought they should let him swim. Perhaps the most satisfying was when they rescued the tall, angry woman from the restaurant

She was clinging to a barrel that bobbed up and down in the waves. Somewhere she’d lost her fancy hat and her bad attitude. In fact, she looked quite happy to see the Flying Turtle, although she must have forgotten to say thank you when they pulled her up on deck. Some people just have no manners.

“Lovely to see you again, ma’am” was all Captain Elizabeth said. A moment later, they spied Pierre floating past on a table.

“Thank you, Captain.” He bowed. “I do appreciate the rescue.”

“It would be shame to lose such a good cook as yourself,” Elizabeth said. Just then, Logan leaped into the water with a rope tied around his waist.

“What in the world is he doing?” Emmey asked Jonathon, who held the other end of the rope.

“He’s after the sacred bowl,” Jonathon said. Sure enough, Logan bobbed to the surface and swam toward a bowl that somehow remained afloat. After a few desperate minutes, he reached the bowl. Jonathon and Phoebe hauled him back on board. He held it above his head and the people cheered.

His victorious moment didn’t last long because the wet bowl slipped from his fingers and landed on the deck. A large piece chipped off the handle, and Flowery Robes nearly fainted. He screamed and protested and even cried over the sacred bowl.

“If you don’t hush up that wailing, I’m going to put you in the bowl and send you out to sea,” Pheobe said. Flowery Robes decided to hush up his wailing. They sailed the ship up to a tall building and everyone got off on the second floor. The clouds opened up and the sun returned.

“Well, we must be off,” Captain Elizabeth tipped her hat. “Pierre, I want to thank you for probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

“It was my pleasure,” Pierre bowed low.

“That reminds me,” Jonathon said, “The cook never came back to the ship and when it started flooding we had no time to find him.”

Captain Elizabeth sighed. “I guess we’ll all have to take turns cooking.” Everyone groaned.

“If I may, Captain.” Pierre stepped forward. “Since my restaurant has washed into the sea, perhaps I should follow it. If I could be so bold as to ask for passage on your ship.”

“ A well-fed crew is a happy crew. Welcome aboard.” The crew cheered and Pierre boarded the ship.

“Let’s get underway,” Elizabeth shouted, and the ship left the harbor under a splendid rainbow.

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Sammy the Chinese Cowboy

Posted on April 24, 2015 by silaschampion

Since it is still National Poetry Month, I got motivated to do some cowboy poetry. What is cowboy poetry, you ask? It is just like it sounds: poems about cowboys and cowboy life. There are many cowboy poets and even cowboy poetry gatherings where enthusiasts share poems and music.

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As I sat down to write, I was inspired by a great book I just finished reading entitled Under a Painted Sky. It tells the story of two girls who run away from St. Joseph, Missouri, dressed as boys. They fall in with a group of cowboys and adventure ensues. It’s a great book written by Stacey Lee who is an awesome writer and a great person. You can check out her website here.

I hope you enjoy the poem.

Sammy the Chinese Cowboy

Out on the prairie one night we heard a fiddle playing

Sad and lonesome, we followed the sound to some pine trees swaying.

There by a fire sat a boy sawing sweetly on the strings.

And the sound rose gently with the smoke, like a bird on the wing.

When he stopped he looked up and we could see that he was Chinese.

So we got down and sat around ‘cause he was the first we ever seen.

“What you doing out on the plains?” Ole Red asked with a grin.

“Same as you, passing through.” Then he started playing again.

“You talk real good for a foreigner,” Slim spoke over his tune.

“I speak so well ‘cause truth to tell, I was born here just like you.”

So we made camp and shared our grub and decided to set a spell

And in the morning we gave him a horse and headed down the trail.

The China boy’s name was Sammy and if the truth be plain

He wasn’t much for riding and his roping was much the same.

But he saddled up every day and he wasn’t too proud to show.

That there was a lot he had to learn that a cowboy ought to know.

So we all took turns teaching him how to rope and ride.

How to cinch his saddle tight and to swing his loop real wide.

It wasn’t long before he caught on and I’d say that he had sand.

And after a few weeks on the range he became a pretty good hand.

One day we forded a river that ran deep and cold.

We made it to the other shore, chilled down to the bone.

Everyone but Sammy, for he was nowhere to be found.

So I rode down the riverbank, praying he hadn’t drowned.

I found him downstream safe and sound, drying on a rock.

But it’s hard to say which one of us had a bigger shock

His clothes were strewn about, drying on a tree

And that is how I found that Sammy was a she.

I still ride the range now with Sammy at my side

And a little cowboy and a cowboy girl follow close behind.

At night I look up at the stars and my heart fills with joy.

And I thank the Lord for the night I found Sammy the Chinese Cowboy.

If you want a copy of Under a Painted Sky you can get it here.

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A Poem For Spring

Posted on April 11, 2015 by silaschampion

It’s spring, the flowers are blooming, the trees are budding and pollen is coating everything. April is also National Poetry Month so I thought I would share a poem about spring my daughter wrote a few years ago. Enjoy.

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Spring Blossoms

Violet and crimsons

With golden blossoms

Flowers fill the air with sweet perfume

Fragrance so sweet

With butterflies and bees sipping nectar and collecting pollen

Caterpillars munching away

Leaving their cocoons and trying out new wings

Adding color to the budding spring.

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Go Fly A Kite

Posted on March 4, 2015 by silaschampion

DSC_0262It’s March, and spring is just around the corner. The days are getting longer and it feels like we might escape this snow-filled winter after all. If you live in a Southern climate, you may already be feeling the warmth of the sun. It won’t be long before the shorts and sandals make an appearance. If you live in the North, you are gasping for relief from February. Old man winter is still hanging around, shaking his frozen beard, but his days are numbered.

For some reason March is associated with flying kites. I suppose it is windy in March because of the clash between warm and cold fronts or something science-y like that. Anyway, where I grew up, it was usually too cold and muddy to fly kites in March. We had to wait until April when the chance of snow almost disappeared.

Apologies to all kite enthusiasts, but kite flying is overrated in my opinion. You spend an inordinate amount of time huffing back and forth across the lawn, trying to get the the kite in the air. After expending all that time and energy, the kite tumbles back to the ground. If you’re lucky, after several attempts it will catch a breeze and soar to lofty heights. Once that happens you stand there and watch it float in the sky until you get bored and go home. It seems obvious that ancient people invented kite flying just to exhaust their energetic children.

In spite of my disdain for kite flying, it does present us with interesting metaphors for life. Sometimes we run and run, but it seems like we’re not getting anywhere. No matter what we do, the kite of  life will not fly. What is the kite of life, you may ask? Is that some special kite on Mount Olympus that grants eternal life and freedom from breezeless days? It’s a metaphor, people. Make the kite of life stand for whatever you want it to.

Where was I? Oh yes, sometimes we can’t get the kite of life off the ground. Sometimes we end up like poor Charlie Brown with our kite in a tree. Our plans go awry or the misfortunes of life assail us. It’s during this time we want to throw in the towel. Okay, that’s enough metaphors. We want to quit, to give up.

Remember, the winds of life are ever changing. If we give up, we might just miss that perfect breeze that lifts our kite off the ground. Pick that kite up and run with it. Don’t let the trees and calms of life keep you from your goals. Go fly a kite.

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Burning Columbia

Posted on February 5, 2015 by silaschampion

photoOn February 17, 1865, fires raged through the city of Columbia, South Carolina. The day before, the city had surrendered to General Sherman and his advancing army. His troops marched in, hungry for plunder and revenge on the capital of the first state to secede from the union. By the next morning a large portion of the city lay in ruins. There is still some debate over how much of the city was burned on Sherman’s orders. Nobody questions that lax discipline and whiskey were involved.

This year marks the 150th anniversary of the burning, and various organizations in Columbia are holding a series of events to mark this defining point the history of the city. I went to one of these events at the South Carolina State Museum called Through the Fire. I thought I would share some of my thoughts about it.

Voices Through Time

One element of the evening was a dramatic reading of several eyewitness accounts of the fire. It contained perspectives from Sherman and some of his soldiers, southern politicians, two women who saw the fire, and two African-American accounts. Hearing the voices of people involved brought the burning from the pages of history. It made it a human story, full of emotion and suffering. The comments were often raw and unfiltered and they give us a window into the hearts of those who lived through it.

I think the museum did a good job providing different perspectives on the fire. I would have liked to hear more African-American voices, but overall I thought it was handled well and it gave us a chance to hear what people of the past had to say.

There were even T-shirts for sale

There were even T-shirts for sale

Time Brings Perspective

One nice thing about the event was that it attempted to simply explain what happened and what it was like to live through this time. Perhaps other events give more time to assigning blame and right and wrong. Here, there were no wistful mentions of a lost cause or arguments about issues.  This event concentrated on bringing us closer to the experience as it happened. I think time now allows us to look back on this event, warts and all, and try to learn from it.

When we seek to understand the past we often try to put everything in simple cartoonish categories. Listening to the voices of the past helps us see that they were people and people are complicated. Perhaps the curator of the South Carolina Confederate Relic Room and War Museum put it best when he said that it is only due to amazing efforts from both sides that 150 years later we can talk and argue about the war without re-fighting it.

It’s all about the cornbread.

The museum had the event catered with food and drink similar to what people ate 150 years ago. I had purloo, which is somewhat like jambalaya and quite tasty. There were biscuits and incredibly salty ham, which is probably as close as I want to get to hardtack and salt pork. There were multiple varieties of cornbread. Apparently our ancestors were all about cornbread. I suppose when you are marching several miles a day or burning a city you just don’t worry about carbs. Cornbread is awesome, though, so I wasn’t complaining.

photoAs I stood there munching on cornbread and listening to the bluegrass band play “Lorena,” I thought about all the people who lived through the darkest years in the history of our country. It’s hard now to imagine a time when we fought one another so viciously. Let’s hope it will always be hard to imagine.

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Moving Melody

Posted on January 15, 2015 by silaschampion

Here’s a short story for your enjoyment.

Moving Melody 

by

Silas Champion

The morning sun followed Roy and Cale down a country highway as they sang along to George Strait. It was a bit early for a Saturday, but driving around listening to George Strait is what they did best.

DSC_0064“I don’t think Jose and his brother were too happy to help us load this piano.” Roy sipped his coffee.

“Can’t say I’m too happy either.” Cale swigged his Diet Coke. “I’m glad they were there though. It’s heavier than it looks.”

“I know. My back is killing me.” Roy put his hand on his aching back. “Just think of the two hundred dollars when we get this thing delivered.”

“They’re cutting it close if the wedding is today. What kind of church doesn’t have a piano?” Cale shifted in the seat. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

Roy held up a napkin with a crude drawing on it. “I’ve got a map. What could possibly go wrong?”

Cale took the map. “That Allie’s quite an artist.” He pointed at the hearts and smiley faces that decorated the borders of the map. “I thought you two broke up?”

“We did, but uh, well uh, now we’re not.”

“You two need to send me push notifications or something. I can’t keep up. Maybe she had us deliver this to a wedding to give you ideas.”

Roy looked scared. “We’re just helping her friend. You keep all those ideas to yourself.” As it turned out, Allie was better at making hearts than drawing maps. The boys to turned to Google, but even that didn’t help much. They reached town about two hours late.

“Shouldn’t be hard to find the church,” Cale said. Pine Grove, Illinois, was just a collection of buildings scattered along a main street. The street ran down a steep hill and ended in a small park on the bank of the Illinois River.

“It better not be.” Roy turned up the main street. “You think the state would put up more signs. I guess they’re too busy wasting money in Chicago.”

“There it is.” Cale pointed at a weathered, white church building. A cracked brick sign read “Pine Grove Church of Christ.”

“That’s a cool old building,” Cale said.

Roy stopped the truck and set his parking brake. “Wow, this road is steep. I’d hate to drive on it in the winter.”

“Hard to believe there’s a hill this big in Illinois.” Cale climbed from the truck and stretched. “I thought somebody was supposed to meet us.”

“We’re two hours late.”

“I guess, but if the wedding is today there should be somebody here.” Cale climbed the steps and tried the door. “Hey, it’s unlocked.” He pulled it open. “Hello? Anybody here?” Only silence and the smell of flowers answered. Cale stepped inside. The church was dark and empty.

“Maybe they got cold feet.” Roy came inside as well.

“We still get paid, right?” Cale looked worried.

“I hope so. Let’s get that stupid piano out of the truck.” Roy turned back outside.

“How are we going to unload it? There’s only two of us.”

“I got an idea.” They trooped outside and Roy pointed. “I think I can back the truck up to the steps and we can ease it off.”

“Okay, but if I hurt myself, you’re going to have to carry me.”

“Stop whining. It’ll roll right off.” Roy climbed in his truck. It did not roll right off. In fact, it was a good thing that no one was there because both boys said some words that shouldn’t be said in church. Finally, after a lot of hard work, they got it in the door.

“We should put it back here.” Cale examined a skinned knuckle.

“No, it’s got to be up there.” Roy pointed. Just then a gray-haired woman walked into the church. She stopped suddenly and gave a strangled shriek.

“What is that?” She pointed at the piano.

“Sorry to startle you ma’am.” Roy stepped forward. “We brought the piano for the wedding. We thought it would look nice here.”

“No, no, not there.” The woman looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“You think it should be in the back?” Cale nodded. “That was my thought as well.” He looked at Roy triumphantly.

“It shouldn’t be in here it all.” Her voice rose again to a shriek. “It must be outside. We were very clear about that.”

“Outside? What?” Roy said. The door opened and a pretty blonde girl stepped inside wearing what could only be a bridesmaid’s dress.

“Oh, hello.” She smiled.

“Lindi, the piano must be outside. Tell these young men that the piano must be outside.”

Lindi’s smile got bigger. “I’ll take care of it, Grandma.” She walked over to the old woman. “Why don’t you go make sure Mom is ready?” She steered the old woman gently toward the door

“Just make sure it’s outside the church.” The woman gave the piano one more horrified look before leaving the room.

“That wasn’t the reception I was expecting,” Cale said.

Lindi turned back toward them. “Sorry about that. My name is Lindi.” Cale forgot about the piano and sore knuckles.

He smiled back. “I’m, uh, Cale and, uh, this is Roy.” Roy just gave her a nod.

“So she’s serious about the piano?” he said.

Lindi nodded. “Yeah, they don’t use a piano in this church. They allow them for weddings if it’s outside.”

“What the-“ Roy paused and looked around. “Why not?”

Lindi sighed. “The Bible doesn’t say to use instruments in worship, so they don’t.” She sounded like someone who was tired of answering this question.

“Doesn’t say to wear pants either, right?” Roy said. “Yet we do.”

“I know, that’s different. Do you really want to hear all this?” She smiled again.

“No.” Roy grabbed the piano. “Let’s just get this out of here.”

“I was here earlier to meet you, but I had to leave.” She grabbed the piano on the opposite side from Roy.

“Yeah, sorry we were late.” Cale finally found his voice. “Somebody’s girlfriend isn’t good at drawing maps.” He moved up and stood beside her. “We’ve got this. You’re not dressed for moving a piano.”

“It’s okay. I feel bad for you guys.” She helped them roll the piano back to the door.

“It rolls well,” Lindi commented as they guided it down the wheelchair ramp.

“Yeah, as long as it’s level,” Cale said. “You’re pretty good at moving stuff.” He realized immediately how cheesy that sounded.

“When you transfer colleges as much as I have you get good at it,” Lindi said. They rolled the piano all the way to the street. Cale stood in front of it so it wouldn’t roll downhill.

“Where do you want it?” Roy asked.

Lindi pointed. “If you move your truck we can push it up by that window. They usually run a microphone outside.”

“Okay.” Roy shook his head and dug his keys from his pocket. Cale wedged a rock under one of the piano wheels. Lindi walked to the window and stood in front of some flower boxes full of petunias.

“Let me help you move those flowers.” Cale hurried to the window. “You don’t want that on your dress.” It only took him a moment to clear a path for the piano.

“Thank you.” Lindi said. “Sorry about the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.” Cale waved his hand. “I’ve done plenty worse.” She looked incredibly elegant in that dress, Cale thought as they walked back to the street. Even elegant ladies have trouble with high heels and curbs, however. Lindi slipped and fell forward. She grabbed the top of the piano to keep from falling. It turned sideways and the rock slipped out. Lindi shouted as the piano spun in a wide circle and rolled down Main Street, taking her with it.

“Lindi!” Cale grabbed her, but the slick fabric of her dress slipped through his fingers. Swearing, he chased the piano and its lovely cargo. After four steps he caught up to them. Lindi perched precariously on the downhill side of the piano. Cale grabbed the uphill side and dragged his feet to slow it down. He almost succeeded before the heavy piano jerked him off balance. It dragged him a few yards before he regained his feet.

“Jump off! I can’t hold it!”

“It’s going too fast.” Lindi shouted. Cale looked into her wide eyes and then jumped on top of the piano. The runaway instrument swerved and roared down the hill. There was no question of jumping off now.

At the bottom of the hill, the Pine Grove Pentecostal Church had gathered in the park. It was time for their annual revival and Brother Franklin exhorted the crowd.

“You must come forth, brothers and sisters, and be washed of your sins.” His voice rose. “Do not deny the Spirit’s call. God’s mercy is extended to you now, but his judgment rolls down like an avalanche. That’s right,” Brother Franklin shouted. “Judgment is coming. Repent and wash away your sins.”

As he spoke the piano smashed into the curb at the bottom of the hill. It flew to pieces with a sound that resembled a cross between and angry elephant and a screaming cat. Cale and Lindi soared right past Brother Franklin and landed in the makeshift baptistery. Water went everywhere, soaking Brother Franklin and the people in the first row.

The congregation erupted in chaos. Cale came out of the water, sputtering and coughing. Lindi had to hold on to her dress to remain properly attired.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Are you?” Cale staggered to his feet. His shin hurt and he felt a bump on his head.

“I think so.” She wiped mascara from her cheek. “I landed on you.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t the other way around.” He grinned. “I probably would’ve killed you.” He helped her to her feet. For the first time they noticed the frenzied crowd.

“Are you two okay?” Brother Franklin stepped up to the baptistery.

“I think so.” Cale felt a bit woozy. A practical looking woman in a practical dress handed a towel to him and LIndi. Lindi took her offered hand and stepped very carefully from the baptistery. The woman wrapped a choir robe around her shoulders. “Here you go, dear, your dress is coming off.”

“Thank you.” Lindi pulled the robe tight around her. Cale dried his hair.

“What happened?” Brother Franklin asked. Cale explained while he tried to dry his damp clothes. Everyone crowded around, shouting and talking until Brother Franklin shushed them.

“Brothers and sisters,” he shouted. “This is a sign from God. These two young people were saved from certain death by these waters.” He pointed at the baptistery. “Come and be saved from your sins.” The people surged forward in repentance. Cale and Lindi backed carefully away from the stage. Roy waited for them by the remains of the piano.

“Are you guys all right?” he said over the music. “I thought you were dead. I was going forty and couldn’t keep up.”

“If we hadn’t hit that we’d be dead,” Cale said pointed at the baptistery, which now had a long line leading up to it. Lindi nodded and shivered. Cale wondered if his eyes were as big as hers.

“I guess your grandma won’t have to worry about the piano now.” Roy picked up a shard. “I seriously can’t believe you both are okay.”

Lindi put her hands over her mouth. “What about the wedding?” She looked down at her dress. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know about your dress, but I got an idea on the piano.” Cale walked over to the man playing a portable keyboard and whispered in his ear. The man nodded and gave Lindi a thumbs-up before starting another verse of “Washed in the Blood.” Cale returned with a grin.

“He says we can use his keyboard after this song. Get your truck over here.” As soon as the song ended the man motioned Cale over. They loaded the keyboard in Roy’s truck while the band moved on without missing a beat.

“We’ll take good care of it,” Cale told the man.

He looked at the debris on the ground. “I’m not sure I believe that.” He slammed the tailgate with a grin. “I’ll come get it after a bit.”

“Thanks a lot.” Lindi climbed in the back of the truck with Cale. They rode up and deposited the keyboard just outside the window.

“One of these would have been a better choice all along,” Roy muttered.

“Oh I don’t know,” Cale said. “I don’t think I could get up to speed on one of these.”

“You could try it. If you like.”

I think I’m good.” Cale looked over at Lindi. “I guess we’ll go pick up the piano. Sorry about your dress.”

“We’ll figure something out. Sorry about the piano.”

“It was pretty old. I guess we’ll have to figure something out too.” Cale could feel the two hundred dollars slipping away.

“We better get going,” Roy said. “Take care, LIndi. Have a good wedding.”

“See you, Roy.” Lindi extended her hand to Cale. “It was good to meet you, Cale, even if it was scary. You could stay for the dance if you want.”

“Ha, if you thought that ride was scary you should see me dance.” He took her hand. It was cold but soft. “Anyway it was great driving a piano with you.”

***

“Well, that turned into sheep pellets,” Roy said after they gathered all the piano they could find.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Cale grinned. “I got her number.”

“I’m not sure it will work out, Cale.”

“Why not?”

You started the relationship on a sour note. It’s all downhill from here.”

The End

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Writing in the New Year

Posted on December 31, 2014 by silaschampion

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Because today is the last day of 2014, I thought I would post a few of my writing plans for the upcoming year.  The old year saw many rejections, setbacks, and frustrations. That is part of being an author, so I’m not going to let it get me down. I also met a lot of great new people and made some significant progress in my writing journey.

Keep Pushing

I have several stories now that I have sent to agents. They have been rejected many times, but I have also gotten some helpful feedback. My goal for 2015 is to keep pushing these stories until I find the one person to say yes.

Keep Editing

Right now I have three stories that I am revising. There are two for adults and one for kids.  My goal is to polish these until they shine and submit them as well. It can be a tedious process, but it is also rewarding to see a polished story emerge from the chunky first draft.

Write Two More Stories

The best way to deal with the constant rejection of being a writer is to work on something new. The fresh ideas keep your focus on the future not on the rejections. This year I hope to write a story about an Irish dance instructor named Colleen. Stay tuned for details. I also want to write a sci-fi story. I have never written a sci-fi story before, but I have this idea that won’t go away. We’ll see what happens.

Those are some of my goals for the new year. I would like to thank all of you who read and follow this blog for making 2014 so great. Your support and encouragement mean more than you will ever know. Have a happy new year.

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Texas Slim and The Not So Silent Night

Posted on December 17, 2014 by silaschampion

Here’s a holiday short story. Hope you enjoy it.

Texas Slim and the Not So Silent Night

By Silas Champion

Texas Slim jammed his battered hat down lower, trying to cover the top of his ears. Old Man Winter had come to the Texas plains and he was in a bad mood. It was like somebody had stolen his favorite teddy bear. Snow whipped around Texas Slim and his tired horse. The wind pounded his back like a hammer. Texas Slim was a cowboy, though, and cowboys don’t let little things like blizzards keep them inside.

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“Come on, boy, let’s get out of this wind.” Texas Slim nudged his horse and they started down the hill toward a clump of willows. He had been looking for a cow all morning and he needed to get out of this wind. His feet were numb and his horse needed a break. Snow covered the ground now. There had been none when he started.

“Stupid cow,” Texas Slim grumbled. Most cows had their calves in the spring, but this one was on her own schedule. She could have her calf any day. He wanted to bring her back to the barn, but when the storm started she had wandered off. Texas Slim grumbled until he reached willows. The wind changed from a large hammer to a smaller hammer when he reached the shelter of trees. The leafless branches whipped in the breeze like crazy dancers.

Texas Slim stopped his horse and swung down. He hobbled around on cold feet looking for a place to build a fire. It took him four tries to get a match lit, and then the wind blew it out. After some more grumbling, he tried again and finally got a small fire burning. Once it was burning brightly, he threw lot of logs on it and made it a big fire. He sat as close to the fire as he could and after ten minutes he felt better. That’s when he heard the sound of a horse coming through the snow. He stayed by the fire, watching the rider approach.

It was his friend Pecos Pete he knew. Pecos Pete wore a huge overcoat made from sheepskin. Snow had settled on it and it made him look twice as big as normal, and his normal was already pretty big.

“Now that’s a good idea.” Pecos stopped his horse next to the fire. “I’m freezing my behind off.”

“You got plenty to spare,” Texas Slim said. Pecos Pete laughed and got off his horse.

“You didn’t have no luck either, huh?” Pecos extended his hands toward the fire.

Texas Slim poured his friend a cup of coffee. “No, the stupid thing disappeared. Snowing too hard to follow her tracks.”

Pecos Pete took the coffee. “I reckon we’ll have snow for Christmas.” Texas Slim grunted. He’d forgotten it was Christmas Eve. Not that it mattered much, except the cook had probably finished making cookies by now. Texas Slim’s stomach rumbled as he thought about it.

“I guess we’ll have to let the old rip take care of herself tonight,” he said, “I’m for heading on into town.”

“I ain’t going to argue with you.” Pecos Pete sipped his coffee. “We need to test those cookies before the Christmas show starts.” Every year the local church held a Christmas pageant where the kids sang songs. They also reenacted the birth of baby Jesus, which was considerably more pleasant than sitting the snow waiting for the birth of a baby calf.

“Just make sure to leave some for the kids.” Texas Slim stood. “You warmed up enough yet?”

“I’m good. Let’s get out of here.” Pecos Pete swallowed the rest of his coffee. Both men hated to leave the cow, but there was nothing else they could do. They didn’t talk much because the wind blew in their faces now. After an hour, they could see a few flickering lights through the snow. They were almost to town. Pecos Pete stopped his horse.

“Look over there.” He pointed at a tangle of bushes. A small deer thrashed the bushes back and forth. Somehow he’d caught his antlers in the thick brush and he couldn’t break free.

“How do you suppose he did that?” Texas Slim asked.

“I never seen nothing like that before,” Pecos Pete said. They watched the deer struggle in silence for a moment. Then they rode forward at the same time.

“Reckon we ought to get him out.” Pecos Pete swung down from his horse. Both cowboys had eaten plenty of deer in their lives, but neither liked to watch an animal suffer. It only took a few minutes before they cut the poor critter free. They expected him to run away, but he was too tired and just sank to the ground.

“I guess we got here just in time.” Texas Slim turned to go.

“Wait,” Pecos Pete said, “I got an idea.” Texas Slim stopped. Pecos Pete picked up the exhausted animal. “I think we found a reindeer.” He grinned.

“What are you talking about?” Texas Slim said.

“We hitch this little guy onto the front of that old sleigh by the church. When the kids come out, we can pull it in front of the church.” He chuckled and swung the deer up behind his saddle. The deer kicked a little but then lay still.

“How’s that little deer going to pull the sleigh?” Texas Slim shook his head. “Anyway, he’ll just go nuts when he gets his strength back.”

“Oh, he won’t really pull it.” Pecos Pete tied the deer’s legs with his rope. “It will just be for looks. You and I can push the sled. We’ll let the little guy go after the kids come out.”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking this ain’t a good idea.” Texas Slim climbed on his horse. He didn’t want anything except a warm wood stove and some cookies.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Pecos Pete made sure the deer was secure. Once he got his strength back he’d be kicking and flailing like nobody’s business.

“Don’t be so growly.” Pecos Pete climbed onto his horse. “The kids will love it.” Texas Slim grumbled a bit more, but like his friend he had a big heart under his rough exterior. They rode into town. It only took a few minutes to get the sleigh into position. The deer kicked a little as they got him lashed into place.

“He’s getting feisty,” Texas Slim said. “You better make sure he’s tied down.”

“I got him, go get the toys,” Pecos Pete said. The sound of Christmas carols came out from the church. Texas Slim went inside to grab the bag of presents. Every year the townsfolk gave out simple presents at the end of the Christmas pageant. Officially it was to celebrate the season, but Texas Slim figured that the minister did it to encourage attendance.

The warmth of the church felt good on his frozen face. The minister stood in the back, watching the children sing. Texas slim slipped up to him and whispered in his ear. He smiled and nodded toward a huge bag by the back door. Texas Slim grabbed the bag and slipped out the door. When he got back to the sleigh, Pecos Pete stood in it, trying his best to look jolly.

“You ready, Santa Claus?” Texas Slim tossed the bag of toys in the back.

“I’m ready.” Pecos grinned. “You ready to push?” Texas Slim groaned and took his place behind the sleigh. The church doors flew open and screaming children ran into the yard. The deer had regained his strength, and at the sight of screaming children, he leapt to his feet. Pecos Pete had tied him so he could stand but not run away. Now, in his younger days, before he’d become a cowboy, Pecos Pete had been a sailor. He was good at tying knots. Normally, if he tied something it stayed tied. Today, though, his cold, stiff fingers betrayed him. The ropes loosened around the frightened deer’s feet.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Pecos Pete thundered. That was too much for the deer. With a frantic lunge he tore free of the ropes and jumped right over little Billy Brown. The children screamed and parted before the deer like the Red Sea. The deer took two more steps, then turned left to avoid running into the minister.

As he darted to the left, his antler caught on the robe of one of the wise men. The wise man wisely threw up his arms and the deer pulled the robe right off him. The deer kept going, but unfortunately the robe covered his eyes. The children screamed as the deer ran right into the church.

“Get him out of there!” shouted the minister. Pecos Pete and several other men raced for the church. Loud crashing and yelling came from inside the church. Texas Slim reached the door first. He had one glimpse of panicked people standing on pews before the deer returned to the doorway and all he could see was a red robe coming at him.

“Move!” He shouted as he jumped to the side. He barely made it, but Pecos did not. The deer slammed into him and they both went out the door together. Pecos Pete held tight to the deer, which allowed Texas Slim to jerk the robe off the poor animal. After a quick, frightened tap dance on Pecos Pete’s chest, the deer darted off into the night.

It took a few minutes for the hubbub to die down. People milled about, talking, crying. Some screamed and some even used words you should never use in church, especially on Christmas Eve. All of them looked at Texas Slim and Pecos Pete.

“What is the meaning of all this?” the minister said in his most ministerly voice. Pecos Pete rubbed his aching chest as he explained. Luckily, his thick coat had prevented any serious injury. As he talked, everyone calmed down and even got a chuckle out of it. Some quick-thinking women managed to save all the food except Old Edith’s fruitcake and fish head soup. Nobody seemed to mind that.

They gave the children their presents and everyone went inside. People slapped Pecos Pete on the back and called him “deer wrassler.” They called Texas Slim The Matador. After more carols had been sung and all the cookies were gone it was time to head for home.

The storm had passed leaving a thick blanket of soft snow. The wind had stopped and the stars shone so brightly it seemed like you could reach up and grab one. Texas Slim and Pecos Pete rode quietly, almost dozing in the saddle. The snow muffled their hoof beats so they passed with hardly a sound.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Texas Slim stopped his horse.

“Huh? What?” Pecos Pete rubbed his tired eyes. They heard it again, the sound of a calf bawling in some bushes just off the trail.

“You reckon is that old rip had her calf?” Texas Slim guided his horse near the bushes. Pecos Pete followed him. Soon they came to a small clearing where they saw that old cow nursing her newborn baby. The two cowboys sat on their horses watching in silence. After a few minutes Texas Slim spoke.

“Merry Christmas, Pecos,” he said.

“Merry Christmas, Texas Slim,” Pecos Pete replied.

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