Through the doors of
the church came a man. Looking about himself cautiously, as if he didn’t
want to be noticed, the man began hesitantly tip- toeing down the aisle.
A wrong footstep caused him to slip and crash into the pews.
As the man picked himself
up, he noticed Josiah Sanchez standing at the lectern. The priest had observed
every move the man had made since he enter the room, but kept pretending
that he was bent over his bible in deep
prayer. It obviously
deceived the man, as he slowly began creeping back up the aisle, as if
nothing had happened.
"Going somewhere, Ezra?"
the priest asked, his deep voice echoing in the church.
Ezra Standish stopped
in his tracks. A look of fear darted across his bright green eyes; a look
that seemed to wish that he had never come.
"Um.. just seeing if
you were interested in joining me for a drink before supper," Ezra lied,
in a voice that begged the priest to believe him.
"Considering that you
hardly seek me out would make one suspicious," Josiah said. He looked up
from his prayer book to meet Ezra’s eyes. "There’s something else."
Ezra shifted a little
bit, rather uncomfortably. Josiah had never seen him in such a state. There
was a very innocent air to the man, a rare thing for a gambler. An innocent,
yet at the same time very vulnerable look about him. This wasn’t natural
for Ezra Standish. Something was wrong.
"No, not really. I was
just hoping I could make it to the confessional booth without being noticed,"
Ezra said, eyes cast down.
Josiah nearly laughed,
but face Ezra wore stopped him. Ezra coming to confession? His need for
anonymity? Something was going on.
Leaving the pulpit,
Josiah approached Ezra and placed a hand on his shoulder. Trying to meet
the man’s gaze, the preacher waited for a moment before speaking again.
"Do you need to talk?"
Ezra opened his mouth,
but only slight sounds came out. Josiah smiled knowingly and invited Ezra
to sit down with him. Ezra shook his head violently.
"Not here, someone might
come in," he whispered. "In your rooms, out the back."
Josiah obliged to this
request. With his hand now on Ezra’s back, the pair made their way to the
small room where Josiah slept. A couple of largish cushions were on the
floor, the only thing that resembled chairs. Josiah motioned for Ezra to
sit. The gambler did so, almost collapsing with relief onto them. The priest
took his place next to Ezra, and met his eyes once again.
"There’s something troubling
you, I can see that," he began. Ezra managed a weak smile. "You would have
preferred to have told me while in the confessional booth as well, so it
must be quite private and personal."
"Ah, the ever perceptive
Josiah," Ezra said, attempting at humour in a frail voice. "What else can
your expert telepathy skills tell me about my problems?"
Josiah sighed. Sarcasm
didn’t impress him too much.
"You have my complete
confidence," Josiah reassured him. "Nothing you tell me will be repeated."
Ezra stilled looked
doubtful.
"Please Ezra. I’m not
going to talk."
After a moment’s thought,
Ezra believed the priest. He nestled further into the cushions, curling
his legs up to his chest. He reminded Josiah of a young child trying to
protect himself from fears unknown to the adults around him.
Eventually, he began
to speak.
"Everyone of us, Josiah,
I mean, all of us 7,we’ve all killed, right?"
Taken a back by the
rather blunt, though painfully true, statement (and the fact that Ezra
had used his first name), all Josiah could do was nod.
"And when we kill, we
do it in the name of right, do we not?"
"Yes," Josiah said instantly,
as if the question had such an obvious answer. Though when Ezra asked in
such a manner, it made the preacher wonder if there was more to it.
Ezra paused, running
a hand over his hair. He seemed unsure of what to say next. Josiah placed
a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. The encouragement brought a
smile to Ezra’s face. Not weak, but shy and innocent, yet self-mocking.
"Ah yes, we do it ‘In
the name of right’. I wonder if those men’s families thought so," he mused.
"Ezra," Josiah said
gently. "What are you getting at?"
"Do you believe, or
at least are you priests taught, that no man has any right to take another
man’s life?" Ezra asked.
"Well," Josiah began.
"Yes. But considering we killed in defense, for others and ourselves, Ezra,
there’s more to this than that. You of all people wouldn’t let that kind
of guilt catch up to you."
"You’re right again,
Josiah, there is more to this little talk."
Josiah soon realised
that this sarcasm was a defense and that patience (God help him keep it)
was the only way to get anything out of Ezra.
When Josiah didn’t reply,
Ezra began talking again.
"It was…a few years
ago. A town not unlike this one. I was there, well, doing my business as
usual. Well, naturally someone’s going to accuse me of cheating. Back then
I did it more than I do now, so I suppose their
feelings were justified.
Hell, I can’t even remember the man’s name, but"
His eyes glazed over,
as his voice melted to a whisper.
"Ezra?" Josiah asked.
"The guy caught me out
on the street, roughed me up a bit. Calling me a cheat and all. I made
some stupid joke, you know, like I always do to pull myself out of trouble.
And, as you may suspect, he didn’t react too well to that, and pulled a
gun."
"Not wanting to end
my days that quickly, I filled out my derringer and aimed myself. He fired,
but missed. I shot back in retaliation, and oh God...."
Ezra froze, his hands
clenching his body. Josiah’s hand grasped his arm, and he continued in
a choked whisper.
"I hit a little girl,
Josiah. She was walking past with her Mama and I missed the guy and..."
He took a deep breath.
"They ruled it as accidental.
I was lucky there, but it didn’t help. I was probably better off to hang."
"Ezra…"
"I saw that girl's parents
today, going into the boarding house. I’ve never forgotten those faces,
tear stained as they held my trial. Their faces have changed. They were
a pretty young couple then, but now they look so old and worn. They hated
me, and still hate me, no doubt. Like I hate myself for it."
Ezra’s eyes turned to
liquid emeralds as tears filled them.
"How can I expect anyone
to forgive me, let alone God?" he cried. Then the sobbing came. It racked
his body as he buried his face in his crossed arms. Josiah, heart aching
for the man’s distress, took Ezra into his arms and
rocked him gently.
"Ezra, it was an accident,"
he said. "You didn’t mean to do it. It was just very bad luck."
"If I hadn’t fired that
gun..."
"Then you might be dead,
and if you had died, then the rest of us six, I mean, would have in all
likelihood died back at the Indian Village," Josiah said, holding Ezra’s
face so that their eyes met. "You saved so many lives,
Ezra."
"A million lives saved
couldn’t bring back that little girl," Ezra whispered, averting his gaze
form Josiah.
"Ezra. Ezra, look at
me." Ezra obeyed, still teary eyed. "God knows it was an accident. Anyone
in their right mind would know it was an accident."
"But how can anyone
forgive me for it?"
"Ezra, I forgive you.
Chris would, JD would, all of the others would. But the question is, can
you forgive yourself?"
Ezra said nothing, but
he absorbed what Josiah was telling him.
"If you can do that
Ezra, you’ll know that God has forgiven you."
The tears began to well
up again.
"I don’t know if I can,"
Ezra admitted.
"It will take time,"
Josiah told him. "But I’ll help you. You can come and see me when ever
you need to, and talk it over. I’m always here." A slight pause. "Well,
if I’m not saving the world with the rest of you, that is."
Ezra smiled briefly,
but soon started crying again. Josiah held him tightly, stroking his hair
and back comfortingly.
"Ezra, we all make mistakes,
and accidents happen. Please don’t destroy yourself over this."
Outside, the darkness
slowly began engulfing the little town of Four Corners. The movement in
the street was fading from a dull murmur to virtual nothingness. Josiah
cradled Ezra until the crying subsided and he was asleep. Slowly, he then
carried Ezra to the bed he’d made up for himself, lay him down on it, and
pulled the sheets up to his chest.
Josiah smiled. Then,
bending down, he kissed Ezra’s forehead lightly.
"Rest peacefully, my
child," he whispered. "You’ll have many long and trying days ahead of you."
With that, Josiah himself
set up a few sheets to sleep in for the night. Laying down in them, he
hoped that he’d brought some peace to his friend’s soul.
The End
