Thanks to Eric Clapton for his song "Tears in Heaven."
Josiah pounded in the last nail with a satisfying 'whack' and stepped back to view his handy work.
Holding the hammer loosely in his hand, he let his gaze travel around the small church and smiled.
He and the other men accomplished a lot in the last month in restoring the church. But it wasn't
just the church that had begun to be repaired.
Many changes had begun to take place in all of them since coming together in Four Corners and
while he couldn't be sure of what went on in the minds of his friends, subtle changes in each of
their behaviors indicated it so. Vin and Ezra were more relaxed, despite the group's impending
departure to Tuscosa to help clear Vin's name. JD had matured and Buck had shown new respect
for the young Sheriff. Chris was starting to heal what little was left of his soul and Nathan seemed
happy in love.
Stopping for a break, Josiah dropped the hammer into a bucket of nails, sat down in a pew and
pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead. A slight breeze blew
through the door, carrying with it dust, leaves and bits of the used sandpaper. The image
reminded Josiah briefly of a time long ago when his missionary father was still alive.
It was one of the many instances that his father had insisted that he help him. Josiah smiled
ruefully at the thought. His father, he remembered 'insisted' a lot. And so on a day when any
young man had a choice in running fast and free, Josiah found himself helping his father repair a
church not unlike this one. In the month before Josiah was set to leave on a mission to India, his
father had managed in every way to keep Josiah home and it irritated him to no end. Now
Josiah knew why.
When Josiah returned almost a year later from his trip, his father was dead.
Sighing heavily, Josiah looked down at his hands and studied them.
Any son would have been saddened. Any son would have wept for days. Any son would have
cared. Josiah ran a hand quickly through his short silvery hair. He wasn't 'any' son.
The strict and oppressive upbringing he had endured while his father was alive was in most
respects the cause of his bitterness. This he knew. His father's constant lecturing, dictating and
harsh punishments for innocent childish mistakes greatly contributed to the hatred he felt towards
the man.
But he also knew the bitterness he felt fueled his resentment. And it was a sad and difficult
situation for him to be in. He felt shame at the disrespect he showed is father, when he was alive
and after his death. So, Josiah knew that what Ko-Je had said a month before was true. His father
did walk with him, but he never understood why until now.
That was probably why he had taken on the repair of the church so many months ago. This would
be his penance. For the disappointment he felt in himself at his actions when he was younger and
for the disappointment he felt at letting down his father. He always believed that he never was the
son he should have been. He tried considerably and he had to admit so did his father. They just
never got along.
Josiah smiled a small thoughtful smile. What would his father think of him now, he wondered?
After India, after the spiritual guidance and training he sought with the Cherokee Holy man that
became his friend and confidant for several years, after the death of his brother, after his fall from
grace and after his road to absolution. What would the missionary man he knew so long ago think
of him now?
And would he even know him?
Would he even want to?
Josiah shook his head at the thought. A father's pride is perhaps the most cherished gift a son can
have and it saddened him to think that he never felt that. What disturbed him more was thinking
that his father probably sought the same from him. And he never gave it.
Josiah looked up into the ceiling of the church and closed his eyes, envisioning the clear blue sky
above, scattered with wispy clouds and the bright sunlight on his face. Was his father watching
him now?
Would he welcome him when it was his time?
Josiah couldn't be sure and he wasn't all too certain he wanted to hear the answers either. He
didn't think that after all he'd done he'd ever see his father again in Heaven anyway. Even if there
wasn't one. He wouldn't belong there.
Josiah continued to sit there in the silence with his eyes closed and finally smiled. No his father
didn't walk with him anymore, he'd come to terms with his anger towards his father and his anger
towards himself. He'd just have to wait to find out about Heaven and the rest of his questions,
though he was pretty sure that his father would know him.
The sudden footsteps drew Josiah from his quiet contemplation and he opened his eyes to find
Chris Larabee looking back at him.
"Resting?" the tall gunslinger in black asked.
"Hmm," replied Josiah with a slight nod. "I also wanted to get some things done before we have
to head out to Tuscosa," explained Josiah, as he gestured to the rest of the church. Josiah
suddenly smiled. "The second time in a month, no a week Brother Chris!" he said jovially as Chris
took a seat next to him. Josiah chuckled and slapped Chris across the back.
Chris let a thin smile play out on his lips, but his eyes twinkled as he looked back at the
ex-preacher.
The two grew silent a bit then Chris began, "you think he'll remember me?" he asked softly.
"I believe so," replied Josiah.
"You seem pretty sure," challenged Chris.
Josiah sighed lightly and looked down at his hands. "Have faith Chris," he said, knowing it would
be hard to ask the gunslinger to do so.
Chris looked back at Josiah questioningly.
"Adam will know you the way my father will know me," answered Josiah with a bit of hope.
Chris nodded and worked his jaw as he looked around at the improvements that Josiah had made
to church's interior. After watching him some bit, Josiah finally asked, "ready for a drink?"
Chris smirked and nodded back.
The End
