Bethlehem

It was Christmas day, I remember, when them two Mexicans came ridin’ into Bethlehem on their old mule and stopped at my pa’s door; a young man and woman I recollect and the woman looked like she was about ready to give birth and at the time, ‘cause I was only an eleven year old kid, I was sure that they was Mary and Joseph like in the bible story.

My pa who ran a little hotel just off the main street was about to turn them both away but, tugging on the back of his coat, I reminded him that it was Christmas and about Mary and Joseph.

“They can sleep in the stables across the street”, I said, remembering how our lord had been conceived in a barn.

But my Pa, being the kind man that he was, said that it wasn’t right for a baby to be born in a stable even if it was Mexican and so he said he’d give them a room at least for the night.

Of course, I was overjoyed because I thought that Jesus Christ was going to be born again and in my pa’s hotel and I couldn’t wait to see the baby. I remember I ran all over trying to lay my hands on some present suitable for the son of god; gold, frankincense or myrrh.

My Pa only laughed, I recall, but then, sometime later that night, three tall men showed up
looking for a couple of Mexicans, one of whom was a pregnant woman and I was sure they was the three wise kings.

One was a tall thin man with a scar running from left to right along one cheek and he had a foreign accent like he was German. I reckoned he must be Casper. Another was an ornery looking giant of a man with a ten gallon hat on and spurs that jangled when he walked and I figured him for being Balthazar and the third looked more like an injun chief with a war bonnet on and moccasins on his feet and I thought he had to be Melchior.

I remember I asked them as they was going upstairs to see them two Mexicans, “You’re the three wise men aintcha?”.

They just laughed, I remember, but then one of them, the German I thought was Caspar, took me to one side and, crouching down, said,

“You’re a smart kid. Maybe you can help us. You see King Herod, he’s sent out some men to find the baby Jesus and if they find the baby, they’ll kill it so, if any strangers turn up looking for a couple of Mexicans or three men matching our description, you’ll tell them that you never saw us won’t you
and you’ll let us know they were here”.

Like the dumb young kid I was, I remember I just nodded and said I’d do anything to help the baby jesus and the men laughed again.

But then, I remember, that I did something that, with hindsight, I feel kind of embarrassed about.
‘Cause then a couple of men did come lookin’ for those two Mexicans and one of them showed me the star on his chest and told me he was a marshal but I was convinced that King Herod had sent them to kill the baby Jesus so I crossed my fingers behind my back and I told that marshal a lie.

I told him that the two Mexicans had asked my Pa for a room but that my Pa had turned them away and that I had seen them ride off out of town.

Then, I saw them lawmen turn around like they was plannin’ on ridin’ out and I ran up to the room where those Mexicans was stayin’ to tell them about the marshal.

That’s when, blundering into the room, I saw the Mexican woman, the woman I had thought was Mary and she had her dress off and I saw she wasn’t pregnant at all and there was bags of money all over her bed and that’s when I realized that what I had thought was a baby was just money bags she’d been hiding under her dress and that those three men weren’t the three wise men; that they were all just a bunch of dirty crooks who had stolen that money.

That’s when the big man, the man I had thought was Balthazar grabbed hold of me and put his big, bear paw hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming.

“Now you better be quiet”, the German said to me pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the injun, “Or my indian friend here will scalp you, you understand?”.

I nodded; tears pouring down over my face and onto that big man’s hands; crying, not just because I was terrified but because I felt ashamed of how stupid I had been.

Lucky for me, that’s when that Marshal came crashin’ down the chimney just like he was Santy Clause; his deputy busting in through the door and I bit deep into the finger of the man who was holdin’ me; so deep that he gave out a yell just as that Marshall put a bullet through the middle of his ten gallon hat.

If it hadn’t ‘ve been for those two law men, that might have been the last Christmas I ever saw but, thanks to them, that gang, who it turned out had robbed a bank over in the next county and split up just to throw the law off of their trail, were apprehended; not to mention that kind Marshal, seeing that I was a bit shook up gave me a deputy badge, a silver star; the best Christmas present I ever had. I remember my Pa even put it ontop of the christmas tree that year and I cherish it and the memory of those two brave lawmen who saved my life to this day.