https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/f8e440da5c87a86902b20f112588f451.pdf 90b1f5b9dbfb316cc64870edcde0a5c7 PDF Text Text THE REDEEMER Leland L. Bush The new morning sun shone partly through the slats of the boardedup window where the Red Clouds lived. Young Johnny Red Cloud lay star­ ing at the opening which allowed the sun to slip into their one-room shanty. It is Easter morning,” thought Johnny. “Yes, Easter morning. I must not be late for Mass so as not to disappoint Father Mannard, for it is my turn to assist in communion.” Sitting up, hunched over on his knees, Johnny gazed bitterly at the surroundings in which they lived, wondering how God could let them exist in this dump—unfit for a rat’s nest. Lifting his eyes to the cots in which Mr. and Mrs. Red Cloud slept, Johnny wondered if they would come home today or the next. “Probably today,” he thought to him­ self. “Today is Easter and Moore’s Bar will be closed. Then they’ll just lie there. Lie there in their stench, too drunk to brush the flies away.” Johnny felt the cold, hard steel of his gun against his bare leg, the eun he had stolen from the rancher near the mission. He smiled to himself as he thought of his crafty trick: “Right out from under his nose, the stupid white eyes!” The rich rancher would never suspect, for he often saw Johnny at Mass, and who could suspect an altar boy—a child of God. No, he would never suspect. I hate them! I hate the white eyes in their fancy houses and big ranches. Papa is no good; he won’t work. He just sits in Moore’s Bar with Mama and begs what whiskey he can from the proprietor, and ...” “Johnny! Johnny! whispered his younger brother Robert, “are we still gonna go hunting with your new gun before Mass?” Startled, Johnny looked down irritably at the questioning look of his seven-year-old brother. “Yah, sure,” he said, “get your clothes on.” “Robert is too young, six years younger than me, thought Johnny to himself, “too young to know what life is all about. No, he doesn’t understand how the white man can ...” “We must get a big deer and then tonight we can have a feast,” babbl­ ed Robert, excited at going hunting. Will you shut up,” snapped Johnny, “you want to wake your sister?” I m sorry, Johnny, I didn’t mean to make so much noise,” Robert meekly replied. Picking up his newly acquired rifle, Johnny led his younger brother out into the early morning light. They were soon picking their way over rocks and boulders and between the brush and aspen trees which encroached in their path. Occasionally a goss hawk would shrill the air breaking the calm­ ness. Suddenly a jackrabbit veered out from beneath a clump of scrub brush. “Shoot him, Johnny!” yelled Robert, “get him quick!” —6— �“No! No, he is too small,” Johnny retorted sharply, “and for the sec­ ond time today, shut up, or do you want to scare everything away?” The brothers silently continued their hunt, weaving in and out of the underbrush; the younger, stinging from the harsh rebuff of his brother, and the elder, gun in hand, burning with triumph at having swiped the white man’s gun. “Look, Johnny,” whispered Robert, his finger pointing toward a dense growth of trees. Something stirred, rustling the quaker leaves. Quickly, Johnny raised the gun to his shoulder and sighted the trees. Squinting his eyes, he squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the still morning air. Robert scrambl­ ed over the rocks and through the brush to the spot, only to stare in dis­ belief at his feet. Johnny ran to his side and gazed down blankly at an in­ nocent bundle of brown fur at his feet—crimson with blood. “Oh,” Johnny gasped, “it’s only a puppy.” Sudden compassion over­ came him, and his eyes blinded with tears and trickled down his dusty cheeks. Robert sadly lifted his dark eyes to Johnny’s face, “Yes, it is only a poor little puppy.” Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Johnny said, “Come on Robert we will be late for Mass and Father Mannard will be angry.” Slowly turning, they started back in the direction they had come. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at the little dog stained with blood and shivered under his shirt. “We will bury him,” said Robert. “God says everyone should be buried.” Looking down at his brother’s round, childish face, Johnny soberly nodded his head in silent agreement. Four hours later, Johnny and Robert returned to bury the little victim they had thoughtlessly slain. They stopped at the aspen grove where the little dog had lain. Now all that remained was a dried patch of blood. The two brothers stood stupified, staring in bewilderment at each other. Then Johnny kneeled beside the empty spot and bent his head on his chest, his long black hair hanging in his eyes. He looked at the stolen gun in his hands and remembered the Priest’s words from Mass: “Take, eat, for this is Christ’s body that died for you. Drink, for this is his blood that was shed for your sins.” “Where is he, Johnny?” asked Robert with pleading eyes. Johnny suddenly jumped to his feet and, with all the strength he could muster, threw the gun against the trunk of a tree. Then he turned, placing his arm around Robert’s shoulder “He is risen, my brother.” —7— � Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Any textual data included in the document Print magazine story Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "The Redeemer" Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/</a> The Casper College Archives has archived this story to encourage the use of its Expression Literary Arts Magazines for digital humanities and other related educational uses. Requests to take this story down should be made to the Casper College Goodstein Foundation Library Western History Center. Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1964 Description An account of the resource A story published by Leland L. Bush in the fall 1964 Casper College Expression magazine. Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Leland L. Bush Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. 1964 Fall. Expression Literary and Arts Magazine, CCA 04.ii.c.2022.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA_04.ii.c.01_Expression1964_Fall_Bush Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Extent The size or duration of the resource. 2 pages Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available 2 pages