The Convert
Starring Ben Todd as Cheyenne Bodie
Theme:Proxy
The person who stands in for someone else
An ally who can be relied upon to speak or act in one's stead.
Authority given to a person to act for someone else
USING someone else on your behalf, disposable
Person who takes the place of another person because a task is too dangerous
The nature of being a stud .. for some evil guys, that makes you a target. Looking the way you do .. some assume you can take it more than others.
Exploring the theme of the stud who is made to stand-in for another guy. Get used in another guy’s stead.
Illustrations
A nostalgic return to that TV show from the 1955-63, Cheyenne. Starring Clint Walker.
In homage to my mother, long-gone. As a young girl she had the hots for Walker, she drooled over his show. Never missed an episode in case tonight was the night when he went shirtless. A rarer treat on TV in those days.
Unfortunately for illustrations the images available of Clint Walker are poor quality and grainy. For this story, then, Ben Todd will stand-in for Clint. A worthy stand-in for the stud?
Astute readers will notice that Ben Todd loses his shirt earlier than the storyline requires. But whoever claimed illustrations on rendsz’ world had much to do with the plot? No one pretends they don’t tickle some other response.
Bottom-line is .. would my mother have objected? If Ben Todd took off his shirt? No surrheee .. she sure would not …..
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Contents
1.Laying track
2. Surprises
3.Welcoming
4.Come night-fall
5.Missionary story
6.Scourge
7.Bullwhip
8.Abused
9.Walk of scorn
10.Lines of hate
11.Beating from hell
12.Hang
13.Stand-up to pain
14.Confrontation
15.Final thoughts
16.end
Ben Todd models as Cheyenne Bodie
The ConvertPage 1A rendsz’ world story
The Convert
1.Laying track
Text only
He was riding shotgun for the railroad. Part of the security detail. Keeping the Sioux off. Shooting away their raiding parties before they could pick off another worker laying tracks.
And the closer the railroad got to the Black Hills, the more aggressive the Sioux became. Bodie understood. It was sacred land. But the engineers had decided. The railroad went straight through.
The company got paid for every mile of track they laid. Only way the workers got their money .. keep laying track. The railroad could afford no delays.
It was like it was personal. The Sioux came gunning for the security detail. Looking for revenge. Attacks increasingly furious, frenetic. It was messy, it was war. Bodie had shot dead dozens of attacking braves. Every mile of track laid litteredby bodies of braves he had shot. They were hated .. the security crew.
One thing Bodie knew .. you couldn’t afford to fall into Sioux hands.
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The ConvertPage 1A rendsz’ world story
The Convert
2.Surprises
“Stop. If you don’t want an bullet in your back ….”
Cheyenne froze at the sound. His fingers were only inches from the trigger of his rifle. But the movement now sounded almost on top of them.
How had they managed that? To creep up on them. And neither had heard a thing. Until it was too late.
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“Bodie. Don’t move.”
Jacob’s whispered voice to his side sounded nervous. Instinctively Bodie’s hand went to his rifle.
“DON’T!”
Bodie turned his head to his companion. Not thinking about the warning not to move.
Jacob frowned at him. But said nothing. Did nothing.
The pair of them had crawled on their bellies through the long grass to the brow of the hill. On Jacob’s tip-off that the tribes were gathering. A hundred yards back they’d tethered the horses and slithered on their fronts to look down over the plain. Jacob had been right. Hundreds of tepees. Hundreds of Sioux braves gathered.
“For the Blood Moon,” Jacob had said.
Down on his front in the long grass, Bodie had been shocked by the numbers. In silence they had watched. This was war, it would be a bloodbath. Bodie had looked without talking. Wondering how-in-heaven they’d defend the railroad against numbers like that.
It was then that Jacob had broken the silence. Warning Bodie. Cheyenne questioned to his companion with his eyes. Gesturing behind them. Questioning without saying a word. Jacob nodded lightly. His attuned hearing had heard what Bodie had not. They had company.
“Move and it’s a bullet in your back ….”
Cheyenne froze. His rifle only inches away. But the voice now sounded like it was breathing down his neck. It could only be Sioux. Crept up on them. Not made a sound. Bodie had not heard a thing. And now it was too late. Cheyenne sawmovement to his side. Bare muscled legs passed by his head. A moccasined foot kicked his rifle away. One man, one pair of legs. But from the way Jacob lay passive, offering no attack, Bodie guessed his hearing had perceived many more.
Jacob was Sioux. Until he’d baptised. But all his previous life he’d been Sioux. He knew what his tribesmen were capable of. If he thought the pair of them were out-numbered, Bodie knew to trust Jacob’s instincts.
“Our brother is back.”
The moccasin placed its foot on Jacob’s rifle. The pair of them had no weapons now. How many were they? And how well armed? Could they fight them off? The voice above them hadtalked to others. Confirming this brave was not alone.
Hands were quickly on Bodie’s arms. Lifting him to his knees. The bare legs belonged to a Sioux warrior, tall, authoritative. Dressed in just his loincloth. Lean, muscular. With piercing eyes. But those eyes were only for Jacob. A pair of Indian bravesremained hovering over Cheyenne but their leader was only interested in Jacob.
“Red Fox has returned.”
Clearly these were men from Jacob’s tribe, he was recognised. But this was no enthusiastic welcoming. The reunion was met with hostile silence. Cheyenne worked out the odds. About a dozen braves. Against the two of them. The Siouxarmed with rifles. Suicide to start a fight.
“Our father is sick.”
The well-built Sioux stood right in front of the pair of them on their knees was talking to Jacob.
“Gone to the shrines .. for healing. Leaving your brother as chief.”
Was this “brother”-thing just the way Indians spoke about others in the tribe? Or .. somehow the way this muscular brave looked at Jacob ……. Bodie wondered .. Was this brave actually his brother? Jacob’s own brother? Was that some similarity?
The tall warrior loomed over Jacob on his knees.
“Our father has wept. Over the loss of a son. A son who followed the white-man’s ways. Who took onthe white-man’s god. Cast the Great Spirit aside.”
Was Bodie hearing this straight? OurFATHER? Not our chief.
“Our father is sick. Sick in his spirit. At a son’s betrayal.”
Was Cheyenne getting this right? Jacob had been a chief’s son? Named once Red Fox? Bodie was trying to make eye-contact with Jacob. For clarification. But his companion was looking up into the stern face of the brave. Staring up into … his own brother’s face?
“OUR father ….” - these two were brothers, then? Jacob had been Red Fox before converting? Their chief’s son? Was Bodie putting this together right? Incredible. For his new Christian faith Jacob had abandoned the old ways. In despair or shame the chief, his father, had pined away. So … this muscular brave .. hehad taken over as chief .. he was Jacob’s actual brother? And now he had captive the treacherous brother .. who had left to follow the White-men’s ways?
Red Fox/ Jacob had suspected the tribes would be gathering for battle. He had persuaded Bodie to come scout-out the land. His suspicions were right. His Sioux nation was gathering in force .. for the Blood Moon. In overwhelming numbers. A massive army to stop them laying tracks. Halt this desecration of sacred lands.
And, disastrously, Jacob/ Red Fox had got caught. With him a white-man. Spying on his own people. The worst betrayal. And the pair of them had fallen into vengeful hands …….
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3.Welcoming
The chief’s son was back. But there was no wild cheering for his return to the tribe. Word had gone on ahead. The whole village had turned out to welcome the son and his white-man friend.
The chief’s son who had turned to the white-man’s god. Caught in the act of betraying his brothers. Bringing a white-man to spy. The white-man who had slaughtered many braves.
Between two lines of hostile faces, the captives were led to the centre of the village. The silence was eerie. Bodie felt a knot in his gut. This couldn’t turn out good.
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The silence was unnerving. Surrounded by hundreds of Sioux. Walked through a sea of hostile looks. Bodie felt their hatred boring into him. Drawn on a noose through their never-ending crowd.. a hopeless steer dragged to the slaughter-house. How many of their brothers had he shot? It didn’t take any imagination to figure out what they wanted done to him.
His captors had treated him badly. The ropes they used to tie him were pulled tight. Their eyes looking for the wince of pain. Slapped across his head .. a hard resounding slap that made Bodie’s blood boil, though nothing he could do about it but glare. Shoved and barged .. making clear their contempt for him. He had to expect that. They’d seen him shoot their brothers. There had to be bad blood.
On the walk down to the plain, though, only Bodie had been bound. Clearly they didn’t trust him. Or it was his build that had them intimidated? Still on his knees Jacob’s brother had ordered Bodie’s hands tied. Arms raised above his head, strong rawhide was twisted around crossed-over wrists. Pulled to his feet, more rawhide was looped through his elbows and pulled tight across his back. Digging his tight-bound hands into his belly.
When the braves retrieved their horses, it amused the young chief to fashion a noose out of Bodie’s own lasso. Taking it out on him .. they’d seen him shoot their own .. they wanted him shamed. Jacob’s brother handed the lasso over to a brave .. honoured to lead the white-man into the village, a noose around his neck. Like some tamed horse. The brave made the best of that honour .. showing the white-man his hate.
Only Bodie had been tied-up, though. For a while he thought he’d been sold out. Why hadn’t they tied Jacob up? Obvious reason .. he’d betrayed Bodie. This was a set-up. The chief’s son winning his way back in with the tribe. But, as Bodie stumbled along, hauled by the neck down towards the village, he knew that couldn’t make sense. Everything about Jacob said his conversion was sincere.
More likely, Bodie thought, they seemed to trust Jacob .. that he would not try to fight back or escape. He walked ahead of Bodie between the braves’ horses. Not tied, free. But closely guarded, his escorts either side like a cat about to spring. Jacob was just as much captive, Bodie realised. Just not tied. It was as if the Sioux all understood some code. Red Fox was facing up to his destiny. He was born Sioux - Jacob understood. He had a debt to pay. And it was like Jacob accepted he could not escape his destiny.
Walked past hundreds of hate-filled eyes. Tied, no chance of escape. And as they were walked on to the centre of the village, the lines closed-in behind them. Blocking off any chance of making a run for it.
“My father’s son has returned.”
No cheering or greeting. Stood in the midst of a hostile silence. The pair of them were surrounded.
“Bringing this white-man with him. Whose hot rifle has killed off many braves.”
Bodie had been keeping marauding Indians at bay as the workers slaved laying track under the hot sun and inched the new track further west .. through Indian territory. And inevitably getting closer to the Black Hills. The railroad company knew the hills were sacred to the Sioux nation. But still the track was driven on.
“Bringing the Iron-Horse to trample over our sacred lands.”
And the pair of them had been caught in the act. Jacob had been helping his new friends. Betraying his tribe to the White-men. Spying on his own people .. warning this hated enemyof his own tribe. Getting them readyto defend itself against his own people’s attack. An attack to stop the railroad committing sacrilege on sacred land. For tem, a complete act of treachery. Bodie feared the worst.
“Betrayal.”
The young chief put the tribe’s anger into that single word.
“Betrayed his people. Betrayed his father. Betrayed his beliefs.”
With every word the chief was addressing the tribe. But his every look was only for the returning brother. Accusation fierce in his glare.
“Bringing the white-man with the hot rifle to spy on us. On his own people.”
Jacob could do nothing but stare him back.
“This white-man with his deadly rifle. Brought here to kill. Brought here by our brother Red Fox.”
Betrayal. Jacob knew he was doomed. And they’d not let him get away.
“Taking the white-man’s god for his own. Making the white-men his own.”
The chief spoke quietly .. almost in a whisper. But the words came out in a hiss.
“Red Fox is no more. His spirit will be cast from our earth.”
The chief paused. Bodie saw the man’s muscled chest rising and falling as he drew breath to calm down his anger. Still glaring at his brother, he spoke the sentence. A sentence of doom.
“With nightfall we light the fires ……”
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4.Come night-fall
“What will they do with us?”
The pair of them had been tied with their backs to a pair of sturdy posts in the centre of the village. Awaiting nightfall.
“Burn us.”
Jacob seemed remarkably calm as he pronounced the fateful words.
“Or at least .. burn ME.”
He looked across at his companion tied to the other stake.
“Torture me first …. Retribution ….”
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They’d go hard on him, Bodie knew. He had been recognised .. the white-man with the hot gun. He had killed their brothers. How many they didn’t need to know. Bodie had worked in the security detail. They had killed attacking Sioux braves, their job. Killed braves on a sacred mission. Stopping the railroad from entering the Black Hills, to them sacrosanct land. The braves had done their sacred duty. The security crew had murdered them .. by the dozen. The Sioux had one of themurdering dogs in their hands. No reason to go easy on him.
Jacob had converted. He worked at the railroad’s tented church. Janitor jobs. Cleaning the mud away, putting out the chairs. People eyed the redskin in white-man’s clothes in their church with suspicion. But Jacob had done humble duties .. in service to his new-found god. His had become a deep and sincere faith. Such as only a convert could possess perhaps, Bodie might have thought. Was this calmness at the stake .. in face of the threat of an agonising death .. was that down to his piety? Was he inspired by those stories of saints and a martyr’s death? Or did this calmness come from his Sioux upbringing? A fortitude in the face of suffering. Would a Sioux like him find a familiar ring about the Easter story? Aboutfacing a horrendous death with dignity?
“I am sorry.”
Jacob looked at the tall figure of Bodie trapped like him .. tied at these stakes waiting until nightfall when the fires would be lit.
“It is my fault.”
Bodie was frowning.
“I persuaded you to come,” Jacob explained. “Suspecting the tribes were gathering for a battle.”
Bodie shrugged.
“And you were right ….”
Apologetic Jacob interrupted Bodie.
“But look where I got you. Captured. And going to die.”