The Five Dollar Mail (Book 1: The Green & Book 2: Lynch's Boys)

166: Not Hell Shall Make Me Fear Again

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of xxx by xxx. All graphics by me.

NOTE: Couple of folks have asked about Jesse singing Sacred Harp songs in the cave, wanting to know what that meant. Sacred Harp music, a type of "shape note" singing, was and is a distinctly Southern American kind of a cappella group singing. It was not done for performance in front of an audience, but instead was done for the sheer joy of of it.

Have a look at the link included with this chapter. It shows some good examples of what the "sings" that Lily dragged her reluctant brother to might have sounded like, and what type of songs might have been sung. You can actually see glimpses of the "shape note" music sheets used in the singing on this trailer.

In case you're wondering, Jesse is a baritone. There's no baritone section in Sacred Harp, so he'd probably sing with the tenors. In the scene in chapter 142, where he's singing "fa so la" is probably how he'd warm up and practice his pitch.

Lights the Storm Peltier wasn't a man who was particularly afraid of dying. He certainly didn't actively want to die, and had more than once gone out of his way to avoid it. But the thought of dying didn't strike fear into his heart.

He remembered a few of the more harrowing brushes with death he'd had over the years. There'd been a few times he thought he'd reached the end of the journey, and some had bothered him more than others.

For instance, he recalled the small military unit he was riding with running into a large Lakota war party, and it was a miracle they'd escaped with their lives and their hair. The danger was just part of the job, and there were certainly worse ways to go than to die fighting like a warrior. Especially against a bunch of Lakota. In fact, he could see why some men grew addicted to the rush of euphoria and excitement that came with staring Death in the face. Later that winter, he and that same unit were struck with the grippe and the thought of dying in his bunk coughing like an old man had offended him to his core. And this last Yarl Incident where he'd nearly been publicly executed on a gallows like a criminal, stripped of any remaining dignity, had been nearly unbearable to him.

No, it wasn't the thought of dying that Storm found so awful. It was the thought of dying badly.

"Call him." the scoured, broken voice behind him ordered him again. "I thought you boys stuck up for each other? Where'd he run off to?"

And this man is going to kill me...badly. Storm said nothing, forcing himself to remain calm. Behind him, the man who called himself Isaiah grabbed the chair back and clumsily wrestled it upright, dragging him painfully with it.

"He sure abandoned you quick enough, brother," Isaiah said with mock sympathy. "I can't have him crawling around out there. "Call him back."

Wash, if you're not dead...some help about now would be great. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly. "You set the kitchen on fire. Didn't you."

"I've set several kitchens on fire, Chief," the man muttered, pulling the knife from his boot and opening the door to the stove. "Someone hired me to throw a little fear into one of your spunky little kitchen girls." He threw an unnerving smile over his shoulder before shoving the blade of the knife into the embers inside. "I assume it worked," he chuckled. "Well, it worked for me, at least."