As the shot rang out Preacher Dan's hand slapped his forehead and his body swung a complete circle before falling face down into the dirt. Nobody and nothing moved except a corner of the Preacher's black jacket caught by a gust of wind. Sliver Pete was shaking so bad he simply couldn't tear his gaze off that body and the crowd looked from him to it and didn't know which was more incredible. They'd never seen Sliver Pete so afraid nor witnessed a dead man come back to life before.
Then there was a small movement just at the waist. A bird, a white dove, struggled free from beneath the body and with a gentle "coo, coo," flapped its wings and flew up into a cloudy sky and disappeared from sight.
Now I don't know what you would make of that, but the townsfolk and Sliver Pete both saw it as a sign from God. Truly this had been God's messenger and Sliver Pete had just killed the messenger. Unnerved he began backing away and had gotten 10 steps when the Preacher's body twitched and slowly pulled itself upwards to a standing position.
"Where are you going?" it boomed in a deep, sepulcher voice from the grave. "You owe me the Lord's money."
Sliver Pete simply fell apart. He gave a strangled squeak of terror, dropped his gun, whirled on his heels and ran up the street until he was out of sight. The stunned crowd watched him go before setting their fearful gaze back on the Preacher. Standing straight he flashed them a wide, friendly smile and suddenly didn't look so dead. True, there was blood on his forehead but with one sweep of his sleeve it mysteriously disappeared.
"That's one problem you won't see again," he said in a voice again friendly. "And don't worry yourselves 'bout me. Except, that is, unless you don't want to make good on your promise of a reward for getting rid of that snake Sliver Pete." He winked.
The townsfolk were happy to give Preacher Dan the reward. He didn't even collect all of it, only half, leaving the rest for the town church. Nobody ever heard from Sliver Pete again, although it was rumored he hadn't stopped running 'til he'd got to New Mexico, married and become a farmer, never to touch a gun again. People couldn't stop talking about how a man could be shot six times and rise up as if he hadn't been shot at all. But no one dared ask Preacher Dan to explain it and he left town so it remained a mystery to everyone except me.
You see, I remembered the day I saw the writing on the side of his trunk revealed by a pesky wind. It had said, "Dan the Magnificent. Magician's Illusions Great and Small." So Preacher Dan was not a preacher, but a gifted magician. I figure when he dropped Sliver Pete's gun at the card table he switched it for one with blanks. The white dove had just been for effect. Here was a man schooled in the ways of human nature and he had done us a great favor while being paid for his services. I thought at that time far be it for me to give away his secrets.
Some say it wasn't a preacher or even a dead man that got up off that dusty road, but an angel of the Lord himself, and in a manner of speaking that might be so.
But only God, Dan the Magnificent, and me -- and now you -- really knows the truth of what happened on that windy day in 1885. |
