No Longer a Quaker, Part I

Redmon Yost lived in Iowa with mother and siblings, the oldest of seven children had just turned seventeen. His pa had passed on two years back, Redmon had gone to work, punching cows at Holloway’s Ranch, long hours made bones hurt, but pay was good and all relied on what he earned, so he did ride. Had no room to drink down his pay or in the saloons lurks. Redmon differed from his partners in that he had no gun, his family were all Quakers, he was forbidden one. They ribbed him about that sometimes, but he paid them no heed, Ma said turning the other cheek beat making pour sols bleed. She said it was the law of God, so Redmon rode without a rod, and this town was a quiet spot, so Redmon saw no need. Until the day an outer ranch was hit, the men away, the bandits took horses and cash in the bright light of day. News ran fast across the prairie, a true posse was formed, but the trail was lost by the men in sudden prairie storm. A twister was no little thing, no robbers would be seen to swing, And everybody hoped that life would return to the norm. But normalcy was not to be, a stage was hit that weak, old Amos Tanner was gunned down while driving to get free, then came a string of robberies, a murder and two rapes. Who did this? Nobody could tell, the town was fit to break, Redmon saw the increasing harm, began to think of going armed, but his mother cried,”No, you fool! Don’t join in with their hate!” This didn’t make much sense to him, did God want them to die? Peace was great, but what evil man just nodded and passed by? If God have given him this life, if it was his great gift, would He turn and say,”I forbid you from defending it.” But mother said, “It is his will,” But did He mean To get folks killed? Redmon couldn’t believe He would, and those thoughts made a rift. CONCLUDES IN PART II.