Saul Corn

Justice and Mercy

This moment wasn't justice or mercy. "Moma, I'm scared," Saul said.

An angry mob slipped nooses over their heads; his mom was crying.

Their executioners talked about "exterminating the vermin."

Dad arrived home on his mule; he pulled his revolver out of its holster and fired off two rounds. The shots spooked the oxen pulling the cart. The rope cut into Saul's neck.

The enraged father used one shot each to sever the ropes his wife and son dangled from.

Saul was in awe. He knew that his father's marksmanship had saved them; shattering injustice and mercifully sparing his life.

The Lost Boy

A young man, half dead, walked into the Lynchville Saloon.

"You look like hell," Saul said. "Been wandering out in this heat?"

The youth squinted as his eyes adjusted. "Yeah," he said. "Some robbers stole my horse."

Saul chuckled darkly, "this part's full of rotten folks," he said. "Wait here. I'll get your pony back."

The sun was lowering itself to the mesa; Saul galloped back into town. He tied both horses to the hitching post.

Saul led the boy over to the animals. "That yours?" he asked.

"Yep, but why is there blood?"

"The wages of sin are death."

It's a Living

Saul was in the middle of a sermon. He saw the woman crying, he couldn't ignore her. Saul finished preaching. "Is something the matter sister?"

She dabbed at her tears. For an instant, Saul saw his mother's face. Maybe it was because this woman was Navajo also, still it was unsettling. "I came from Bosque Redondo," she said. "The US government took my boy to the Indian School. I'll never see him again."

Saul clenched one hand on his revolver. Those assholes, they took the land and the people. There was only one way Saul knew how to fight back.