Author Archive for M. Toole

Christmas Eve On Lonesome

Western Colorado – December 12, 2014

It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome one-hundred thirty years ago. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream.

There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a big coat, and with saddle pockets that might have been bursting with toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream.
But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his heart for him.
“Vengeance is mine! saith the Lord.”
That was what the chaplain had thundered at him. And then, as now, he thought of the enemy who had betrayed him to the law, and had sworn away liberty, and had robbed him of everything in life except a fierce longing for the day when he could strike back and strike to kill. And then, while he looked back hard into the chaplain’s eyes, and now, while he splashed through the yellow mud thinking of that Christmas Eve, Buck shook his head; and then, as now, his sullen heart answered:
“Mine!” The big flakes drifted to crotch and twig and limb. They gathered on he brim of Buck’s slouch hat, filled out the wrinkles in his big coat, whitened and his long mustache, and sifted into the yellow, twisting path that guided his horse’s feet.
High above he could see through the whirling snow now and then the gleam of a red star. He knew it was the light from his enemy’s window; but somehow the chaplain’s voice kept ringing in his ears, and every time he saw the light he couldn’t help thinking of the story of the Star that the chaplain told that Christmas Eve, and he dropped his eyes by and by, so as not to see it again, and rode on until the light shone in his face.
Then he led his horse up a little ravine and hitched it among the snowy holly and rhododendrons and slipped toward the light. here was a dog somewhere, of course; and like a thief he climbed over the low rail fence and stole through the snow-wet grass until he leaned against an apple-tree with the sill of the window two feet above the level of his eyes.
Reaching above him, he caught a stout limb and dragged himself up to a crotch of the tree. A mass of snow slipped softly to the earth. The branch creaked above the light wind; around the corner of the house a dog growled and he sat still.
He had waited three long years and he had ridden two hard nights and lain out two cold days in the woods for this.
And presently he reached out very carefully, and noiselessly broke leaf and branch and twig until a passage was cleared for his eye and for the point of the pistol that was gripped in his right hand.
A woman was just disappearing through the kitchen door, and he peered cautiously and saw nothing but darting shadows. From one corner a shadow loomed suddenly out in human shape. Buck saw the shadowed gesture of an arm, and he cocked his pistol. That shadow was his man, and in a moment he would be in a chair in the chimney corner to smoke his pipe, maybe – his last pipe.
Buck smiled – pure hatred made him smile – but it was mean, a mean and sorry thing to shoot this man in the back, dog though he was; and now that the moment had come a wave of sickening shame ran through Buck. No one of his name had ever done that before; but this man and his people had, and with their own lips they had framed palliation for him. What was fair for one was fair for the other they always said. A poor man couldn’t fight money in the courts; and so they had shot from the brush, and that was why they were rich now and Buck was poor – why his enemy was safe at home, and he was out here, homeless, in the apple-tree.
Buck thought of all this, but it was no use. The shadow slouched suddenly and disappeared; and Buck was glad. With a gritting oath between his chattering teeth he pulled his pistol in and thrust one leg down to swing from the tree – he would meet him face to face next day and kill him like a man – and there he hung as rigid as though the cold had suddenly turned him, blood, bones, and marrow, into ice.
The door had opened, and full in the firelight stood the girl who he had heard was dead. He knew now how and why that word was sent to him. And now she who had been his sweetheart stood before him – the wife of the man he meant to kill.
Her lips moved – he thought he could tell what she said: “GI up, Jim it up!” Then she went back.
A flame flared up within him now that must have come straight from the devil’s forge. Again the shadows played over the ceiling. His teeth grated as he cocked his pistol, and pointed it down the beam of light that show into the heart of the apple-tree, and wailed.
The shadow of a head shot along the rafters and over the fireplace. It was a madman clutching the butt of the pistol now, and as his eye caught the glinting sight and his heart thumped, there stepped into the square light of the window – a child!
It was a boy with yellow tumbled hair, and he had a puppy in his arms. In front of the fire the little fellow dropped the dog, and they began to play.
“Yap! Yap! Yap!”
Buck could hear the shrill barking of the fat little dog, and the joyous shrieks of the child as he made his playfellow chase his tail round and round or tumbled him head over heels on the floor. It was the first child Buck had seen for three years; it was his child and hears; and, in the apple-tree, Buck watched fixedly.
They were down on the floor now, rolling over and over together; and he watched them until the child grew tired and turned his face to the fire and lay still – looking into it. Buck could see his eyes close presently, and then the puppy crept closer, put his head on his playmate’s chest, and the two lay thus asleep.
And still Buck looked – his clasp loosening on his pistol and his lips loosening under his stiff mustache – and kept looking until the door opened again and the woman crossed the floor. A flood of light flashed suddenly on the snow, barely touching the snow-hung tips of the apple-tree, and he saw her in the doorway – saw her look anxiously into the darkness – look and listen a long while.
Buck dropped noiselessly to the snow when she closed the door. He wondered what they would think when they saw his tracks in the snow the next morning; and then he realized that they would be covered before the morning.
As he started up the ravine where his horse was he heard the clink of metal down the road and the splash of a horse’s hoofs in the soft mud, and he sank down behind a holly-bush.
Again the light from the cabin flashed out on the snow.
“That you, Jim?”
“Yep!”
And then the child’s voice: “Has oo dot thum tandy?”
“Yep!”
The cheery answer rang out almost at Buck’s ear, and Jim passed death waiting for him behind the bush which was left foot brushed, shaking the snow from the red berries down on the crouching figure beneath.
Once only, far down the dark jungled way, with underlying streak of yellow that was leading him wither, God only knew – once only Buck looked back. There was the red light gleaming faintly through the moonlit flakes of snow. Once more he thought of the Star, and once more the chaplain’s voice came back to him.
“Mine!” said the Lord.
Just how, Buck could not see, with himself in the snow and him back there for life with her and the child, but some strange impulse made him bare his head.
“Yourn,” said Buck grimly.
But nobody on Lonesome – not even Buck – knew that it was Christmas Eve.
Copyright 1901
by Charles Scribner’s Sons

Elf Profiling Nets Viagra Bust

Special to the Ridgway Demon Press
(Christmas Island—December 12, 2014) Police here have arrested a dozen elves charging them with smuggling. The contraband, three kilos of viagra, was discovered during a routine stop. The elves say they were victims of profiling. The cops say the brake lights were out.
Distrust of strangers has always been part of the local culture here, especially on December 26 when the island is deluged with Christmas refugees like elves and reindeer.
We don’t know what will happen to the elves and frankly could give a damn. It was the headline that had potential.

EDITORIAL
(Montrose, CO—December 12, 2014)
If Santa intends to maintain his position of grandeur during the holidays, he must control his entourage. Every year good citizens are subjected to foul language, brawling and petty theft. Last December we even observed three elves taking a leak off the roof of our newsroom.
Now, as many of you are aware, there is a big debate about elves in prison. Liberals whine saying the proportions indicate disparity of economic opportunity and outright racism. Crap.
The last thing we need to go with the Christmas hype is a bunch of crude little men, often inebriated, roaming the rooftops. Santa, dude, control your wee helpers. We are well armed and tired of their arrogance.

Happy Holidays From Departed Republicans

…and best wishes from the idle rich, the landed gentry, Wall Street, the oil companies, the tobacco companies and, of course, our departed Republicans everywhere cross this great land.

IF JOHN WAS STILL HERE…

(Ridgway, CO — December 12, 2014) If John Wayne was here we wouldn’t have to listen to endless accounts of crooked politicians plying their shameful trade. They would have made him steaming mad and he would have caught up with them as Ethan Edwards in The Searchers and gained revenge in the name of all the innocent victims of their treachery.

If John Wayne was here there would be no confusion as to the art of loving. He and Katherine Hepburn would certainly see to that.

If John Wayne was still with us we wouldn’t be plagued with gang violence. He would ride right into the midst of the bastards and send most home to their mothers. The ones who refused to listen to common sense would face a serious ass kicking like the one he administered to Yakima Canutt in The Lawless Frontier.

If John Wayne was still here we wouldn’t be sending troops into Bosnia. As aging special deputy, Rooster Cogburn, he would have long since disarmed both sides and slapped some sense into the hostiles intent on carrying on the conflict just like he did in True Grit .

If John Wayne was kickin’ he would never have built a house out of tires, sold real estate or sang songs about chickens crashing on Wolf Creek Pass.

If the Duke was still alive we wouldn’t be faced with auto pollution since he would leave his pickup parked back at the ranch and ride his horse all the way to work.

If John Wayne was alive there would be no growing population of homeless Americans. They could all bunk at his house in the Hollywood Hills.

If John Wayne was still alive Michael Jackson would never have suffered from acute gastroenteritis. John would simply utter, “Awwww” and tell Michael to “quit his bellyaching” and get back to work. And you can bet Michael would have done it.

If John Wayne were here we would not have such a chronic problem with domestic violence. He would swoop down from a hillside and whack pee-pees and maybe even ride off into the sunset with one beautiful woman or another like he did in Stagecoach.

If John Wayne were here we wouldn’t have to worry about drunk drivers on the road. He would confront them just like he faced down a drunken Luke Plummer in a dusty cattle town backstreet as the Ringo Kid.

If John Wayne was still kickin’ the problem of illegal aliens would be confronted in a sensitive manner just like they were in Down Mexico Way.

If John Wayne was here men and women would quit the pettiness and learn to respect each other just like he and Maureen O’Sullivan did in countless westerns.

If John Wayne had not died he’d be here explaining the truth about UFOs just like he told the settlers about the Indians in The Big Trail.

If John Wayne was with us Israel and Syria would sit down and talk just like the warring factions in The Shepherd of the Hills.

If John Wayne was here it would be easy to tell the difference between heroes and villains like The Duke and eternal bad guy, George Cheseboro.

If John Wayne had not gone away we would all achieve a level of true happiness and trust like the characters in She Wore A Yellow Ribbon.

If John Wayne was still alive he’d offer just the right support in encouraging good over evil like he did in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

If John Wayne was here he would prove that most soldiers are reluctant, honorable warriors like the cavalrymen in Rio Grande.

Things can certainly be frightening in 2014, especially without someone in a ten-gallon hat willing to ride into the fray and make everything all right. Are happy endings no longer in vogue as we step on our johnsons trying to reach the top of some money tree? John Wayne is no longer riding high in the saddle and maybe the good guys don’t always seem to win in the end. John Wayne is gone and maybe in honor of the vigilant western hero it’s time to take the bull by the horns ourselves, heh?

Kevin Haley, a Hopalong Cassidy wannabe, lives in Colona where he wears cowboy boots to church and publishes The San Juan Horseshoe. He thinks the needy want just a little bit more than just canned goods at Christmas.

For a printed transcript of this column please send $25 to the Eternal Hibernian-American Relief Fund, Colona, CO. Copyright 2014 Kevin J. Haley

Ski Areas Seek Yuletide Swap

(Crested Butte—-December 12, 2014) In an attempt to thwart the weather and take advantage of heavier snows in April a majority of Colorado ski resorts have petitioned the North Pole to change Christmas from December 25 to January 25. The shift would allow skiers to experience what are often the best snow conditions during the holidays
A coalition of legislators, schools and religious leaders say the ski industry has gone too far in attempting to change a long-standing holiday just to make money.
“Next thing you know they’ll want to change Thanksgiving,” said a teacher from Salida.
“That’s not a bad idea,” harped one ski industry spokesperson. “We’d rather open in late December. There re still turkeys around then. What’s the big deal?”
Strong opposition has arisen in Eastern Colorado where Grinches Go Home, a grassroots water movement, says the ski industry gets too much now.
“The ski people don’t share,” said one Grinch voice. “What if we just closed the roads? We look forward to Solstice and Christmas in December to help us get through a darker, colder time of the year. Changing Christmas would throw everything off and it isn’t going to happen.”
Ski promoters say dull is dull and that the holidays on the plains are simply that, no matter the date. More on this when we make it up.
– Spider Byte

Under the tree, 2014

(Mañana, Colorado — December 12, 2014)

A semi-splendid roster of sugar-plumbed diversions, frivolous fancies and indentured stocking stuffers aimed at jingling someone’s bells. Most can be had by perusing your favorite cheese and meat catalog, consulting the black market or by simply wishing hard enough. (Editor’s note: If you plan to embrace the third option be sure to bend your knees before engaging full power coordinates.)

POPEYE THE SAILOR ALARM CLOCK – Know someone who needs a few choice words before they’ll get out of bed? The perfect present is the Popeye Clock. Mounted on genuine plastic driftwood this clever time piece uses the language of the sea, or better put the language of the motherless sons of salt, who ride the ancient crest. About an hour before the whistle blows the sleepy headed recipient hears a series of nautical disastrous such as the Titanic, the Bismarck, the destruction of the Spanish Alls, smells rotting cod and gets a light case of the scurvy. At that point Popeye himself starts in with the really filthy language. If anyone can sleep through this cursing they are either near death or have functioned in the substitute teaching roll at the local junior high school. $119.95 at all fine jewelers.

SAGEBRUSH TERRARIUM SET – Know someone who can’t get enough of the high desert? What about this inexpensive, custom-made bit of earth science? Besides over 3 pounds of live Rocky Mountain sagebrush, each terrarium includes struggling pear cactus, flat rocks, deer scat, scrub oak and volunteer piñon trees. Further accessories include hungry magpies, fresh road swill, trailer skirting, discarded beer cans, shell casings, old bait and an occasional arrowhead. Plexiglass exterior promotes solar energy access and wind-driven procrastination switch determines the appropriate seasonings. Wonderful for the classroom or the jail cell. Perfect for people who don’t have time for pets. Cheaper than two pairs of wool socks. $13.99 at Garden of Evens and all For the Love of Ivy Stores.

GREAT NORTH EDIBLE GIFT BASKET – Vacuum packed for freshness this mouth-watering little gem will be consumed before Christmas if creatures are stirring. First we observe a healthy portion of reindeer sausage, embedded with fresh yak cheese and Eskimo pie. Over on the windward side is Caribou mustard and Polar Bear jerky. Underneath the first level the happy holidays are echoed once again with Yurt candy and three full quarts of seal juice. Most baskets offer a redeemable coupon for a year’s worth of walrus tongue, certainly considered a delicacy somewhere. Enough for about $15- $20 postage paid. Igloo Ventures.

JACK DANIELS FLAVORED DENTAL FLOSS The educated consumer may believe that all floss is the same but they are in for a surprise. If your teeth fall out after normal use see your dentist and/or bartender. Not available in parts of Tennessee. On sale everywhere for as little as $8.95 per quart.

BARBIE UNITED NATIONS WEAPONS INSPECTION TEAM – Throw a little Christmas fear in the direction of folks like Saddam Hussein when Ken and Barbie come to town. Simulated chemical weapons testing devices, Barbie desert jeep, two weeks worth of fashionable if not functional dry land outfits. Barbie laser audio makes threats and presents ultimatums (like those spouted in the former Serbian Empire) to anyone who’ll listen. Plane fare included. Accessories include gas masks, laser-guided jewelry, sun glasses, credit cards, prozac supplements, sea rations, hip boots and the 7th Fleet, which is anchored off the coast just in case things get rough. When you’re looking for moral indignity or just some downright suburban fantasy look to Barbie and Ken. Not available in Saudi Aurora or Utah. About $35 at toy stores.

GREATEST EROTIC PERFUME COMMERCIALS – The title says it all. What do wanton lust, white horses, skimpy gowns and hairy chests have to do with aromas often manufactured in New Jersey? We certainly don’t know, but the video is selling like mad. Who buys things like this? Why is there so much of this stink juice sold at Christmas? Just what the hell is going on anyway? $39.99 at Schlockbusters.

“DEAR SOCKS…DEAR BUDDY” – Hillary Clinton’s latest literary contribution tracks her recent difficult days with Bill and the heart-worming advice offered by the White House pets. “Hillary’s bitchiness comes out like fish bones on trash day,” says the Spar City Spartan. “We didn’t know animals had so much to say, even if they’re mixed breeds”, says The American Kennel Club Digest. In two volumes, the book is a quick read. Formatted to fit the average Christmas stocking. $14.95

THE TRADITIONAL CHRISTMAS TIE (Pictured) – Show someone they are trivial, their presence inconsequential, with a long, white box. This ultimate standby present goes quite a bit of the way in saying you are expendable twelve months a year. Simplify your Christmas shopping. Buy ties for everyone and let them fight over the colors. The cheaper the material the more direct the message. Plentiful at Salivation Army Stores, Good Phil’s and Tie Won On in Mañana. Market price.

TUPPERΩWARE UMBRELLA ENSEMBLE – Remote control, indoor-outdoor, water repellent, molded molybdenum handle follows you almost anywhere! Detachable carpet slippers just like the ones worn by General Longstreet at the Battle of Petersburg. Relax: It’s brainless! Tiny navigational screen plots your next step while acoustic wave monitoring system watches for rain clouds on the horizon. Ask yourself: Why wouldn’t I buy something like this? It’s digital. It’s wireless. It’s bilingual. Comes in ceramic, mesh and popular cordon bleu. $329.99

AEROBIC LAUNDRY DEPRESSOR – Sold out. You don’t need to know. Why not buy them a body fat analyzer instead. Self-cleaning litter boxes are nice if a cat is in the picture. $59.99

BARNEY FUNERAL ANNOUNCEMENT KIT – BJ and Baby Bop are in black and Barney is finally dead. Wake attachments for high-strung ethnic neighbors, heated cartoon casket and ashes bucket are only the beginning. Avoid tedious human contact with computerized guest list. home computer. Futuristic technology for everyone but Barney. Embalming Elmo in funeral director’s suit optional. Jello dishes and bland casseroles, brought over by neighbors you’ve never met, available this spring. $56.99

PROPANE-POWERED ACETYLENE NOSE HAIR TRIMMER – Just like the ones they used to employ in the NBA. Operates entirely on propane. Highly magnetic and adjustable. Comes in small, medium, large and industrial sizes. Sugar-free digital ambience creates a sensitive almost melodramatic finale every time you use it.

KINDA NAUGHTY FRENCH CALENDAR – Like the one hanging in the Oval Office. The 2014 calendar offers full-color sultry poses and frontal shots of Charles DeGaulle, Francois Mitterand, Ferdinand Foch, Napolean Bonaparte, Jules Grevy, Jean Casimir Perier, George Clemenceau, Marshal Phillipe Petain and other leading bunglers since Charlemagne. Now you can change months as easy as the French change governments. Sold in all office machine and book stores. $11.95

YO DUDE WALLET SNOWBOARD – Perfect for the snow athlete who’s sick of hauling his board around. Works great for hitchhiking, apres ski and avoiding the local patrol. 100% theft-proof almost. Comes complete with Vegematic fax machine, rectal-implant cell phone and TV channel changer for semi-anal pursuits later in life.