Woodcutter's Revival (13 page)

He decided that if there was another person close by, he should have identified himself. If there was a bear or mountain lion in the area, it was stalking him to decide whether or not to attack. Stewart reached slowly for the Winchester. He controlled his fears because he knew an animal could smell fear and decide to attack for that exact reason. Another man, observing with nefarious motives might take the offensive at the sight of the Winchester.

Stewart quietly and cautiously looked around. He could still see nothing. He decided to break camp and get back onto the trail. While glancing over his shoulder in both directions to look for anything out of the ordinary, he was able to be packed and on his way quicker than usual. As he walked, he kept the Winchester in the ready position, as when he was hunting, instead of over his shoulder on the sling.

The trail above the camp site dipped down behind an abrupt ridge that he could not see beyond until he got to the top of it. As soon as he stepped over the crest of the ridge, he noticed a spot where a doe had given birth to a fawn. The doe and the fawn had gone, but some blood drippings and a placenta remained. Almost simultaneously Stewart stood within a few feet of a mountain lion that had come close to the birthing spot, drawn by the scents.

The lion had not noticed Stewart approaching because he was interested in something else. They both hesitated for an instant. The lion sized Stewart up. Before Stewart had a chance to lift the Winchester, the lion was off into the brush. As he stood there, he realized how alert and intense his concentration had been for the past half hour. He could not remember a time when he had been so focused, as every event seemed to play out in slow motion. He felt confident that the lion made his decision, and was not that interested in him. He walked for about another hour before deciding to camp.

As Stewart set up camp, he kept the Winchester handy. He made sure to secure his pack by throwing a rope over a high limb and hoisting it up away from any predators. Although he had survived an encounter with the mountain lion, he was still more concerned about the potential of having an encounter with a grizzly. He took no shortcuts on precautions.

As Stewart sat by the fire, he reflected back on one of his conversations with Michael. Michael had told him about a Bible character named Jabez. He said the story of Jabez was one of the shortest stories in the Old Testament but carried a huge message. Stewart dug out the Bible Michael had given him. Michael had said, “This is small and handy. Take it with you. I cannot even read it with my glasses any more. I can still read my big book with the large print.”

Stewart wondered why men always had to be gruff about things, even when doing something tender hearted. He read I Chronicles four, nine and ten: “Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother named him Jabez, saying, ‘I gave birth to him in pain.' Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, ‘Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.' And God granted his request.”

Stewart contemplated all the elements in the simple story that spanned all of two verses. Jabez was honorable. The Bible gave an example of a man asking for a blessing and for his territory to be increased. Finally, Jabez asked for God's hand to be on him to keep him from causing harm and from experiencing pain. God granted his request.

Stewart thought, “Jabez could be me. I can't remember the pain I caused my mother in birth, but I can't shake the felling that I was born for adversity. He kept me from pain and injury this very day, and I hope He will tonight! I have asked for a blessing, although I didn't know I could admit it until Michael taught me this story. I am stepping out to receive God's blessing and an increased territory. I also don't want to cause pain in others.”

Stewart remembered how Michael told him about the birds of the air. They did not toil nor worry. They did not go hungry. Even though God provided worms and bugs for the birds, they still had to go out and collect them. Stewart thought back over years of Sunday school, church, family and school, how he had tacitly learned that to seek one's potential was wrong. One should be satisfied with his position in life and not seek self glory. Accepting a station or position in life sounded less like fate and more like ‘fatal' to Michael and now to Stewart.

In fact, Michael had insisted that it was selfish, lazy and motivated by complacency to “accept one's station and not improve one's self.” Michael argued that God gave us a free will. Sometimes He has protected us and ordered circumstances to get our attention, but He placed the responsibility of choice upon us. In addition God empowered and inspired people to be all that He had created them to be.

Under humble submission to Him, it would be selfish, lazy and complacent not to ask God to bless us, increase our boundaries, and bring healing, not harm to others. Michael had said, “God inspires and empowers us to follow Him. God is not concerned with our ability or inability, only in our availability.”

Stewart slept well that night and had vivid dreams. When he awoke, he thought, “Long day. I better get started.”

Chapter Twelve

A
s Stewart neared the top of the ridge he could see Wellspring sprawling in the valley below. He was overcome with emotion. His first thought was the joy of nearing the end of the journey. He was then gripped by an irrational fear. The city of his conquest now seemed more threatening than the mountains he had just survived, the mountains of which he was so unfamiliar only eight months ago. He had envisioned this scene in his mind so many times. He had pictured himself conquering the final peak and then triumphantly striding into the city.

Now, however, he sat and stared. He had come so far, now to be overcome with doubt. He had no plan. His glorious ideas seemed to fade. Where would he begin? He wondered if anybody else had felt this way as they reached this peak, so close to their goals. After a short rest, Stewart regained his strength and his courage. He proceeded a little more cautiously than before. He was amazed how much difference some rest, food and water made in his perspective of the situation. He knew the final descent would probably take the remainder of the day.

By dusk, he arrived at the outskirts of Wellspring. In the dusty twilight of the day he passed through “tent town” and neared wood-framed buildings. The distinct center of activity was not as obvious in reality as in his imagination. His picture of the city soon dissolved into streets laden with mud and wagon wheel ruts, dingy buildings - some whitewashed - some covered with weathered lumber - some with wooden bases and canvas roofs. The whole scene was bathed in the smell of wood and coal soot and horse manure.

People were everywhere, going into saloons - carrying supplies, moving, hurrying - all appearing to have a purpose in their efforts. Stewart wondered where he would find Raymond. He then made plans to put-up in the first hotel he saw. Since he had left the farm eight months ago, he had not slept in anything but the make-shift hammock in Michael's cabin and on the ground.

Among the stores, private dwellings and saloons, Stewart saw a marquee, “Travelers' Inn.” In the window was a sign, “Room and Bath - $2.00, Meals Extra.”

“Good enough,” he thought.

After supper, Stewart returned to his room. He missed Michael's company while on the trail, but he had a destination then. Now, he faced the loneliness of the strange room. He previously thought his first night would be a night of celebration. He had, after all, reached Wellspring alive!

The night was dark. The sound of the revelers in the street did not diminish the darkness or the loneliness. His thoughts were more of despondency. He recognized the loneliness and the fatigue. He was unfamiliar with the melancholy. He thought back to the conversations in the cabin when Michael talked about despondency. It was easy to wonder what melancholy actually felt like when you were in good fellowship and in a warm cabin. Maybe he missed the signs of early spring he remembered from the farm, and the family. Maybe he had never attempted goals high enough to experience disappointment. His thoughts centered on a single theme, “Is this all there is?”

In the night, worry was enhanced because nothing could be done about the situation. The next morning Stewart woke with a clearer head. He focused on two tasks. Stewart hoped he could find a job today that would pay at the end of the week. His money would only hold out for food and lodging for a week at most. He also wanted to begin to look for Raymond.

Stewart suddenly remembered the envelope Michael had put in the bottom of his backpack and told him not to open it until he was settled in. Steward thought, “Michael probably wrote me some final words of wisdom, to encourage me and get me started down here.”

The warm smile on his face, formed from fond memories, soon turned to a look of awe and amazement. Michael had snuck fifty dollars into the envelope. The note only said, “You will need this more than I will. Be safe, be healthy, and be happy. Remember to guard your perspective and have an attitude of gratitude.”

Stewart thought how those words would probably have more impact upon his plans and success than the money, but the money would sure relieve some of the worry about living day to day. “I should probably find a place to check the rifle until I have a place of my own. Maybe I can keep it in the hotel safe until I get situated. I am sure the safe is big enough.”

After sleeping past sun up, a bath and breakfast, he checked a board on the front of the inn. The board had different messages tacked on it. Some were personal notes and others were for jobs and help-wanted tags. Some notes appeared to be a few days old, while others, judging from the weathered condition, might be as old as a year. On some tacks, just a corner of paper remained where the rest of the note had weathered or been torn off.

Stewart quickly jotted down some interesting job possibilities with some names and addresses. He also wrote a note for Raymond. He would use the inn as his base of operation until he had a chance to move further into the city.

Stewart began by looking around in the neighborhood in which he was staying. As he looked back up toward the mountains he could see no other distinct trail or road other than the one on which he had entered town, next to the river and the railroad line. He figured Raymond had more than likely used the same trail as he came into town. What type of job did Raymond find?

Stewart thought it best to check some establishments nearby and then proceed to the addresses he had jotted down. He had asked the evening waitress and the night clerk if they had seen Raymond. New people were now filling their shifts so he asked them about Raymond, again to no avail.

By the directions the desk clerk had given him, the first address was about two miles away. In the same fashion that he arrived into town, he had no other form of transportation than walking. The street cars did not yet extend beyond the brick and mortar section of the city. Most of the wood frame structures and wood frame tents were in newly established areas of “town.”

As he walked, he noticed a repeating pattern. Every three or four blocks seemed to repeat the previous blocks. There was some type of general purpose store, a saloon, livery stable, hotel, and other types of establishments that might skip several blocks in the general scheme of things, such as land offices, gun shops, chair factories, or wagon wheel factories.

Other blocks might have a hardware store, a market with some fresh vegetables and canned goods; and chickens, turkeys, or bacon hanging under the awning. Less frequently there might be a construction office, or a house that stated, “Boarding by the hour.” Stewart wondered why someone would rent a room by the hour. These repeating patterns must have been what he heard called “Neighborhoods.”

Stewart did not realize every building he would see for the next several weeks was part of the sprawling growth. The growth was unplanned. If a hotel was successful on one block, someone else thought they might try one in the next new block. Most of the wood framed hotels were actually not much bigger than a four or five bedroom house. Some were called inns, others were called boarding houses.

Most people had not lived on the outskirt long enough to be part of a “Neighborhood.” Stewart only noticed one theatre and no libraries. He heard that Wellspring would be the center of knowledge and enlightenment. He was beginning to wonder if the stories were inspired more by romantic impressions of the way people wanted to view the city or if the stories had any validity. After walking about forty-five minutes, he came to Davis Street. He said to himself, “Three-hundred-one, three-hundred-three, yes, three-hundred-nine. There it is, Hagar Townsend Construction.”

The office looked make-shift and temporary, as if most of the work done by the company was probably completed on location. The only tasks accomplished in this office were record keeping by Hagar's wife, who also doubled as the receptionist. The office was where people were hired and any negotiating Townsend might do with potential clients.

“Excuse me. Is this Townsend Construction?”

“I think the sign said that.” said Mrs. Townsend, glancing up from her work long enough to survey Stewart and then bury her nose in the records again.

“I saw a notice on a bulletin board. Are you still looking for help?”

“We are always looking for help. You just can't find good help anymore. It's not like it was in the good old days when we had some control over the rate of growth. Back then you were part of the city or you didn't belong. It isn't like now. Anybody can get in.”

Stewart was not quite sure of what she meant, but he did not care to risk an explanation. What if part of her frustration was the migration of rural people to the city? Or maybe she was upset by the “Orientals” who had stayed after building the railroads. Maybe she did not like former slaves or their families moving out here to find their fortunes or dreams, not to mention their freedom.

Something told him to say only what was necessary to her, and no more. He waited patiently for her to finish what she was doing, as he assumed she was finishing a task which required a lot of concentration. In his youthful, rural naïveté he did not contemplate that she could actually be rude.

While waiting, he casually surveyed the surroundings. He noticed Mrs. Townsend to be about his mother's age and on the heavy side. She wore a shawl. He also noticed the office was dusty with only a desk, a free-standing bookshelf and a rack that contained tubes - probably to organize and protect building plans and drawings. Her desk had several ledgers and stacks of paper and envelopes in no particular order. After a few minutes, she finally said, “As soon as I find an application, you can fill it out.”

She found one and handed it to him, “You can read, can't you?”

“Pretty well, I think.”

She glanced back at him as if purposely showing no sign of being impressed.

“When could I talk to Mr. Townsend?”

“He will be here at six in the morning before heading out to the job.”

“Will I be assured of seeing him if I show up?” Stewart asked as politely as possible.

“Listen, if you want the job, you will be here. We can't give guarantees.”

Stewart attempted to conceal his shock. He reasoned with himself, “Maybe city people are just under more pressure.”

He didn't know Mrs. Townsend was purposely, through an unspoken arrangement, Mr. Townsend's first line of defense from wasting his time talking to those who were not extremely interested in working. As Stewart left the office and headed back to the hotel, he could not decide whether he felt hope for an early chance at a job or despair over the reception he had received from Mrs. Townsend. He was soon distracted by the bustle of the city.

“Watch out! You country bumpkins ought to look where you are going!” Stewart stepped out in front of a rider who seemed to be galloping fast for the amount of congestion around him.

“Country bumpkin! How did he know I was from the country?” Stewart thought as the rider hurried along, just missing a couple attempting to cross the street. Stewart paid more attention to watching and walking than sightseeing until he reached the inn. He felt a little relieved to be back in the relatively familiar surroundings of the neighborhood. As he reached the front door, he checked the board. His note to Raymond was untouched and he could detect no other new postings. He decided this would be a good time for lunch.

Stewart spent the afternoon making a three block circle, checking every public board he could find in front of the buildings. He decided that if he should get the construction job, he might move closer to the office or to the construction site, depending on how far it was from the office. As he was eating supper, he noticed he missed the first sunset in Wellspring.

Stewart felt more exhausted that night from the uncertainty of not knowing where to find Raymond, and the job situation than from the walking. In fact the walking, on flat ground, lower elevation than the mountains and with no heavy pack seemed to provide enough exercise to refresh him. During the day, he hoped for sleep to escape the reality of his situation. That night he wished he could do more to accomplish his dual tasks.