The Ransom of Red Chief: Ebeneezer Dorset

I slammed the door behind me and locked it. My breath came out in long, ragged sighs filled with relief. He was gone. He was actually gone. I had managed to “convince” him to go outside and shoot marbles or play with the neighbor’s cat or something along those lines. I honestly didn’t care what he did so long as he was out of my hair.

Cautiously, I pulled back one of the flowered crimson curtains an inch to peer outside. There was my son, throwing rocks at our neighbor’s orange kitten Steven. My hand touched my chest and breathed out a sigh of thankfulness. I suppose Steven would need a good scratching and a ball of yarn later and perhaps even some treats, but for the moment my son was occupied.

I sighed and rubbed my stressed temple. What had possessed me when I told my wife I wanted a son is a mystery to me and makes me wish I had fought that demon harder so I could have prevented this horrific nightmare.

So I might as well enjoy myself while I can.

I plopped down on my burgundy armchair and sunk in the soft cushions. We lived in a good-sized house with two floors, two bedrooms, one bathroom, and several other rooms. Just off to my left was the entrance to the newly redone kitchen and off to my right was the staircase to the upstairs and the hallway leading to my solitary study.

I sighed and laid my head against the cushions, propping my feet up on the foot rest. I took my newspaper from the side table on my left and opened it to the third page and continued reading the section about an attempted bank robbery up north. Apparently it wasn’t a very exciting one if it was only on the third page.

“Ebenezer? Ebenezer, where are you?” called my wife with her mellow and sweet voice.

“In the living room, dear,” I answered without looking up from my paper.

In stepped my wife wearing a magenta and white spotted dress that reached down to her ankles. She had a meek stature and a wary face. A very petite woman in a big world.

“Ebenezer, where is ‘Red Chief’?”

“The boy? He’s outside,”

She lifted her dress slightly and made her way to the window, pulling back the orange curtains to peer outside into the sunny afternoon. “I don’t see him,”

“He’s should be throwing rocks at the neighbor’s cat again,”

“Ebenezer, he’s not in the front yard,”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much dear, he’s probably gone into town to shoot marbles with the other boys,” I cringed slightly at my almost certain lie. “Red Chief”, as our son had taken to calling himself, never played with the other boys due to his roughness and annoying attitude, and uncanny way of keeping his promises (like promising to scalp someone at dusk or burn them at the stake at dawn), though thankfully someone or something always seemed to stop him from doing so. But where ever he was and whatever he was doing I was just thankful it wasn’t here.

“Ebenezer, we should go looking for him,” her voice seemed worried and her face expressed a similar emotion, but I was unaffected.

“I’m sure he’s just running around playing Black Scout or something, dear, I wouldn’t worry about it too much,”

She hesitated and nodded. “Alright dear, I trust you, but he just better be home by dinner,” she warned and plodded up the stairs.

I turned the page of my newspaper.

I’m sure he’s fine. I reassured myself, ignoring that tiny tug at the back of my mind telling me to make sure. I later discovered that I should have listened to it.

*****

            Two days. I hadn’t seen my son in two days. My wife was frantic while I wasn’t sure whether to be frantic and worrisome too or to be realized and celebrating that that pest was gone, run away or perhaps kidnapped or something.

            There was a knock on our door. I pushed myself off my armchair and temporarily blocked out the sound of my wife’s weeping.

            I opened the door and forced myself to be presentable. “Yes?”

            It was a young boy with blond hair carrying a satchel filled with letters and other mail. The mail carrier, what was he doing here at this hour?

            “Mr. Dorset, sir, I have a letter for you,” he reached into his brown satchel and held a folded piece of paper to me. I took it from him and thanked him and began to read the letter, closing the door behind me.

            My wife sauntered out of the kitchen with a pink silk handkerchief pressed against her red eyes. She looked up noticing the letter in my hand. “What is that Ebenezer?”

            “It’s a ransom note for our son,” I said in awe, surprised by the note and the details explaining that I had to deliver fifteen hundred dollars in large bills in exchange for my son.

            “Well, what does it say?” inquired my wife as she stood on her tip toes to get a glance at it.

            I cleared my throat and began to read out loud.

 

Ebenezer Dorset, Esq.:

            We have your son concealed in a place far from Summit. It is useless for you or the most skillful detectives to attempt to find him.

Absolutely the only terms on which you can have him restored to you are these: We demand fifteen hundred dollars in large bills for his return; the money will be left at midnight tonight at the same spot and in the same box as your reply-as hereinafter described. If you agree to these terms, send your answer in writing by a solitary messenger tonight at half-past eight o’clock. After crossing Owl Creek on the road to Poplar Grove, there are three large trees about a hundred yards apart, close to the fence of the fence post, opposite the third tree, will be found a small pasteboard box.

The messenger will place the answer in this box and return immediately to Summit.

If you attempt any treachery or fail to comply with our demand as stated, you will never see your boy again.

If you pay the money as demanded, he will be returned to you safe and well within three hours. These terms are final, and if you do not accede to them, no further communication will be attempted.

                        Two Desperate Men

 

            I wasn’t sure whether to be thrilled or frantic. On one hand, if I didn’t comply, I’d be free of the pest but my wife would be devastated, and on the other hand if I complied and paid the ransom I’d be once again stuck with the little nut but I would be my wife’s hero.

            “Of Ebenezer, what are we going to do?” she pleaded and clutched my arm.

            I stared down at the note, conflicted on what my next move should be. A light bulb went off in my head and a ghost of a smile crept upon my face. I had a brilliant idea.

            “I’ll be right back dear; I need to write my reply in my study,” I scurried off and closed the cherry wood doors shut and sat down in my chair at my oak desk. I took my pen from its holder and took out a sheet of paper from my drawer and began to write.

 

            Two Desperate Men:

Gentlemen: I received your letter today by post, in regard to the ransom you ask for the return of my son. I think you’re a little high in your demands, and I hereby make you a counterproposition, which I am inclined to believe you will accept. You bring Johnny home and pay me two hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and I agree to take him off your hands. You had better come at night, for the neighbors believe he is lost, and I couldn’t be responsible for what they would do to anybody they saw bringing him back.

            Very respectfully,

                        Ebenezer Dorset.

 

I smiled. Why pay them for me to take him back when they can pay me to take him off their hands?

*****

            The “Two Desperate Men” stayed true to their name, because the next night there was a knocking at my door, and when I answered it there was my son with his overalls and eagle feather stuck in his red hair.  And standing behind him were two men in torn clothes and sullen faces.

            “Take him, take him! Please!” begged one of the men, who from the look of his dirty clothes and bruises had experienced the wrath of ‘Red Chief’.

            I held out my hand. “My two hundred and fifty dollars?”

            He blinked and nodded eagerly. “Oh! Yes, yes, of course,” he rummaged through his pocket and started putting the bills in my hand. I smiled. I knew one of these day Johnny would help me make a good investment.

            He finished counting the money and pushed him towards me. “Now take him! Take him now!” and as soon as he was in the man that had paid me the fine ran to his horse-drawn buggy and drove off without his partner.

            I turned to the second man. “I’d start running if I were you, I’m not as young as I used to be and can only hold him for about ten minutes before he starts chasing after you.

            The second man’s eyes widened in panic and he ran down the road after his partner.

            Red Chief kicked and howled like a calliope when he discovered that he was being left, screaming Indian-related threats at the pair.

            I couldn’t help but smile.

            The Ransom of Red Chief. It’s got a nice ring to it...

Author's Note

The original story does not belong to me. This was an English assignment I had some fun with. Be honest, what do you think?