Chapter 7: Forgiveness

Three days later

Mr. Mathers was right, the new conference room on the second floor of the museum really was quite nice. The table was long, long enough to accommodate at least 15 people alone, but there were plenty of chairs stacked against the wall to make for a congregation of the whole Temple staff. The wood paneling, floors, and uniquely pleasant aroma from the museum below gave the room a very homely and comforting feel. Not only that, but the view was indeed excellent. The large windows ran all along the eastern wall of the room and gave a wide view of the Temple and whole town square as the people of town went to and fro about their business. It was only a shame that I couldn't truly appreciate the view since each of the chairs across from me were occupied. Directly across from me, Bishop Mordecai was staring at me expectingly while Constable Hanshaw too had a look of confusion oriented towards me.

At last, Bishop Mordecai asked me, "… Is that alright with you, Mr. Young?"

I snapped back to the moment, immediately replying, "Yes, sir, sorry. I can have myself and two of my men verify that as soon as possible."

"Ok, excellent…" said the Bishop before turning to the Constable beside him and asking, "And you were going to include Mr. Doyle on this little scout, correct?"

The Constable nodded, making eyes with Doyle who sat two men down from me as he said, "Doyle's scouts were the ones who caught word of it from those traders so they can lead Lt. Young right to the spot and we can proceed from there."

I glanced to Lt. Doyle, seeing him give the Constable and Mordecai a thumbs up before saying, "Don't worry, Bishop. My scouts are plenty experienced, we can head out today and be back in two days if that's agreeable with you?"

The Bishop looked at the Constable, seeming to mouth a question. The two men exchanged some whispers I couldn't make out, but before too long, the Bishop looked to Doyle and me as he said, "Would your men be able to conduct the run at the end of the week? Friday may be more suitable. It would only be three days, so it shouldn't be too big of a hindrance, correct?"

The old Bishop reached for the glass of water before him, and Doyle adjusted in his chair before saying, "We could do that, Bishop, but it'd be best if we head out sooner rather than later. The winds could easily blow away any tracks and we might not be able to find the culprit if we put it off for too long…"

The Bishop was done drinking, and setting the glass down, he again looked to the Constable to exchange a few quiet words before they both looked up to Doyle and I. This time, the Constable answered, "It's only an idol, or totem, so I doubt the culprits would have gone far. So, the Bishop- er, We, think it'd be best if you and your scouts set out on Friday. We need a full watch till then."

"Say no more, Constable," said Doyle as he sat back in his chair and I internally asked, "Why do we need a full watch till then?"

I didn't feel the question was important enough to ask, so I held it inside. The meeting was already long enough as evidenced by the soreness from sitting too long and the others at the table slapping themselves to stay awake or already dozing off.

Finally, the Bishop stacked his ledgers and folders on the table, startling everyone in the room awake as he said somewhat rapidly,

"I'd say that will about do it..." He paused briefly, seeing that he had everyone's attention now and concluded in the same manner, "This meeting is adjourned, thank you so much for all your time and patience, and go with God."

At that, everyone including myself, stood from the table giving the Bishop a farewell as my fellow officers of the Guard and Elders too shuffled out of the room. I took a stretch and turned to depart as well, but as soon as my back was turned, the Constable said, "Paul?... Would you mind staying for a while?"

I turned back around, seeing the Bishop and Constable both as the only ones still seated. The crowd died as everyone else was already out of the room save for the last two elders still trudging towards the doors with their canes.

"Sure thing?" said I to the Bishop and Constable with more of a questioning tone than I myself expected.

I plopped myself back in the chair and met the eyes of both men as the door shut for the last time with the departure of Elders Rockwell and Larsdale. When it shut, the Bishop gave a quick glance down at his open ledger before joining the Constable in their friendly looks at me. I was going to ask the reason for this private counsel with my superior and the spiritual leader of our community when the Bishop asked with a smile,

"How's the boy, Paul? Been up to any more trouble since colliding with me the other day?"

I could feel the warmness in the old Bishop's words and see it on his face. The Constable was smiling as well when I said, "No trouble like that, sir… But I believe I do owe the Gallant's yet another compensation because of something he did to their yard yesterday."

The Constable chuckled and the Bishop's smile grew wider as the light outside the windows told me it was about noon. The Bishop then said, "I've spoken to the Constable about you and your family, and all I can say to the matter is, 'that sounds about right,'"

The Constable jumped in with a nod from the Bishop, "The Bishop here knows Michelle is about to go on mission too, and has decided to make a personal contribution to her fund."

I was surprised by this and said what I could in the moment, "I- you don't have to do that sir? I don't believe she's even started petitioning yet. She doesn't turn 18 for another 3 months, but I-… Thank you so much!"

Both men nodded, and the Bishop raised his hand, "No thanks necessary. She will have the head start she needs regardless and I am happy to help."

I could only mutter, "Thanks again, I know she will appreciate that, and so do I."

"It's the least I can do. Not to mention that it is you whom I owe much thanks."

"Sir?" I asked as I started wondering why I was owed thanks by the Bishop.

"Yes, between you, Mr. Mathers, and the Constable here, I have decided to go forth with meetings like the one we just finished. The security of the community and our ambitions were at great risk of being forgotten. I can only see great things coming from regular communication between the Temple leadership and the Guard… Even if meetings like these serve as an excuse to catch up on sleep for some of the attendees."

"I'm happy to have helped, sir," said I, trying to remember what exactly I did to help spur his decision.

I could only recall a few things said in conversation between the Constable, and Mr. Mathers lately, but nothing specific stuck out. Still, the Bishop nodded, and the Constable stayed silent as the Bishop then said, "Which brings us to the other reason you're here now…"

I began to wonder what this other reason was, but before I could, he went on, "… I worry about the prospect of expansion in the wake of the other recent event… That being… Joshua Graham."

"What's the issue?" I asked immediately as my mind started swarming with memories of the returned Legate and that night that seemed so blurry.

The Bishop raised his hand in a calming gesture, "There is no issue, not yet I believe, but we were wondering if you could help us."

The Bishop's eyes went to the Constable who twisted his mustache before glancing at the Bishop and then back at me before saying, "We understand you were with him for quite a while in the clinic that afternoon, Paul. We know he's the closest with you so we were going to ask if-"

Even though I wasn't one to normally interrupt anyone, my thoughts of that night ended in an instant at the Constable's words as I blurted out, "He is?- He's the closest with me?..." I saw this outburst was met still with the friendly and understanding eyes of the men. I never thought I was considered "the closest" to Joshua Graham, and had no idea what my actions that afternoon or that night might have looked like to anyone. Then again, I had no idea what that perception of these two men, or the community was. The allegation of my closeness to Mr. Graham wasn't said in a derogatory, or even accusatory way, in fact the exact opposite appeared to be the case as I continued to look at the men across from me. Still, the Bishop and Constable knew I had more to say, and all I could do was explain my surprise at my relation to Mr. Graham the way I saw it;

I elaborated on that day simply, "... We hadn't exchanged more than a few words that day before Dani and the kids arrived…" I paused, remembering more of that evening before the Temple, then I remembered how I hadn't heard anything about him since that night and said, "… I was actually wondering what's happened to him because I hadn't seen him since that night I took him to the Temple. Do you know where he is?"

The Bishop and Constable exchanged glances in the short pause before Mordecai said softly and assuringly, "He's been granted a shack outside the city, he's still recovering and we expect him to for a long time. I intend to explain this in my next sermon, but I'm sure you've noticed that talk of him meets a fitting end outside the gates..." He paused to swallow while a look of serious concern stayed on the Constable's calm face. The Bishop went on, "… Now I know you guardsmen have your banter while you're on watch, but the Constable has already sent word to the others to keep talk of him beyond the walls to a minimum…" Pausing again, I was going to tell him that I already knew the standing order after that night, but I was more interested in hearing what was on the tip of the Bishop's tongue. All he could say in conclusion was,"… But the truth is, I'm worried."

I thought of the wrapped man in the darkness of the Temple, standing tall with the cross of stained glass above as I asked what I internally already knew, "What are you worried about?"

The Bishop gulped, shrugged the worry out of his mind, then stated before me, "I don't know exactly, but we were hoping you can help us identify that."

The Constable began to twist his mustache again as he said emotionlessly, "Stories have started coming in about what happened with the Legion at Hoover Dam several months back. We still don't hear too much about the execution that didn't take. Although it should be obvious that many of us are already aware of that thanks to Mr. Mathers and what you have already told me the following morning, but… What the Bishop means is: did you and Graham talk about it? Did he say who might be coming for him?"

My thoughts returned to that evening when I was alone with Graham and the few words we exchanged. As I thought, I could only say, "I don't think anyone knows he's alive if I'm being honest, but he and I didn't really talk about anything. As much as I suspected it was him as I sat at his bedside that afternoon, there was still a large part of me that didn't even believe it was so… If I recall correctly, I mostly just wanted him to admit his name… As you know from our talk the day after, he said he'd only admit it if I brought him inside."

"So you didn't discuss anything else?" asked the Constable as the Bishop sat listening to every word said.

"No sir, that day is a bit fuzzy, but like I said: all I remember really, is asking for his name. I wanted to be sure, to hear him admit it before I told anyone. I would have questioned him further, but there were so many people who came to him that night in the Temple after he finally confessed. Personally, I didn't intend for there to be anyone else who'd follow us there that night."

The Constable adjusted in his chair, "You two passed right under my window. Those muffled screams were the only reason I was there."

The three of us thought about where we were that night and I could see on the Bishop's face that he wished he had the energy to show up as soon as word was passed to him on the other end of town. There, I could also see on his face that his age was getting the better of him little by little each day as he rubbed his leg under the table. Sitting there thinking, I remembered other bits of that night before returning home, but my mind always returned to focus on the image of him standing in the heart of the Temple as the crowd closed in. Every one of them, to my own surprise, shaking his hand and welcoming him home. I thought I was the only one who'd even considered the ramifications of his return while the crowd made the prospect of getting nearer impossible as each New Canaanite filled the Temple that evening.

After the moment, Bishop Mordecai brought us all back to the moment as he said, "Regardless, for now, Joshua is to stay outside the city and word will continue passing to the people about keeping talk of his presence to a minimum. In the meantime, however, I-…" He glanced to the Constable then went on, "We, need you to do something."

I'd been waiting on what this task was since the beginning, and even though I knew it deep inside, I remained curious what it was as the Constable took over;

"Go to him, ask him what he did to get here, who might have seen him, if he left a trail, if he had to kill anyone, if there were witnesses, and how likely is it that someone will come for him. We need all hands on deck until we know for sure what kind of danger may be coming. All actions beyond the walls, expeditions, missions, etc. are on hold until we have a better idea of what he might have brought with him…"

I agreed to the task, still partially wondering why it was me who was considered the closest to him. I stood up from the table, gave my farewells to the Bishop and Constable, then exited the conference room above the museum to see a few of the Elders still congregated outside in the hallways or stairwells. The guards all long departed, the eyes of the Elders were locked on me as I headed down the stairs only for more quiet conversations to resume the second I was far enough.

Being a Lieutenant of the Guard had its perks, the biggest one being that I didn't have to wait for the next incoming or outbound group for the gates to lower. A thumbs up to the guardsmen operating the levers, a few brief kind words, and the gates lowered immediately. Several of my brothers and sisters of the community joined me in our exit into the market, thanking me for abruptly ending their wait and I proceeded forth with the small group. The downside of being a Lieutenant of the Guard came when I passed the gate stations and was met with Nathan shouting;

"Ey LT! Where you going!?"

I kept going, following the small path closest to the wall, away from the main crowds and immediately felt the presence behind me. I didn't have to turn around to feel John, Ramos, and Nathan behind me, and it wasn't long before I heard Nathan say, "You didn't have to hit me so hard, John. That how you going to lead when Lt. Young gets promoted and-"

The men joined my side on the little walk and Nathan was interrupted by John saying to me, "Where you headed, sir? Feel like we hadn't gotten to see you much lately."

I kept walking as I said to him, "Official business for the Constable. And shouldn't you be back at the gate station?"

"Carl just went to relieve himself. He'll think we're making our rounds through the market," said John.

Eyes still on the path through the shanties along the wall, I said, "Yet you're following me?"

Then Nathan jumped in, "We're doing that, and starting our rounds. We make our runs this way sometimes… But where you going?"

I stopped in my tracks. As much as I enjoyed their company, I was on an assignment, one for the Constable and Bishop. I went to tell them that this was a confidential assignment, as it dealt with that certain person we weren't allowed to talk about beyond the gates, but then it hit me how the words "secret" or "confidential" were never used. Still, I knew this wasn't an assignment for so many people to join me on. The men stood beside me expectingly and I asked them when I was sure there was nobody around, "What is our most recent directive?"

The three of them thought for a second before John said softly with a brief glance around, "I understand… Ramos, head back and give Carl a hand."

Ramos had the look of "why me" but didn't speak as he accepted the order and gave us a farewell with his head hung low. John turned back to me with the look of "I got your back" but I could only stare at him with the look of "fine."

We continued on through the slums along the wall and to my surprise, even Nathan kept his mouth shut along the way. They knew who I was looking for, but I didn't really know exactly which shack I was going to. Thankfully, the two of them had heard enough word of mouth from other guardsmen and New Canaanites for John to say to me, "It's just up here."

I thanked him but getting closer, I probably didn't need the help because outside the shack I could see four prim and properly dressed people of the community waiting on a bench outside looking more than out of place amidst the scattered crowds of tribal refugees and wasters who paid for such meager homes outside the walls. Stepping closer, I was going to ask the citizens who I recognized as the "Neil" family about why they were here when suddenly, I was asked from somewhere in the shantytown;

"Lt. Young!"

I turned and before I could make out the voice, I saw Mr. Schmitt approaching us from out of a group of wastrels. Not expecting so many distractions, I gave Mr. Langdon and Nathan a gesture to leave as Mr. Schmitt stepped up. Except the gesture was lost on my men and they didn't move an inch as the young Duncan was finally close enough to say,

"I heard from Doyle that I'm joining him and you on that run out to the idol or totem thing. Why're we headed out Friday and not right now? The guys who did it might be long gone by then?"

After a moment, Duncan raised a curious eyebrow at the apparent confusion he stirred. "Another time," I thought as I actually said to him;

"I'm carrying out some business right now. Stop by the gate station later."

The young man asked, "Here? On this side of the shanties?... Anyway, we can walk and talk like we did the other…"

He paused, finally understanding the expression on our faces and how his concerns would have to be addressed another time. After realizing this, he looked around at the people going about their business and said as a matter of fact, "I'm coming with."

"No, you're not-" said I before Nathan and John both said together;

"Us too."

I didn't even care that the young man and my two guards defied an order, I could only ask, "Why?"

Duncan stayed silent and John was going to say something more intelligent but Nathan blurted out in a hushed tone, "I hadn't met the guy. Don't think John or Duncan has either."

I was going to tell them this wasn't the time, but couldn't get a word in as John said, "We'll keep others outside and-"

Then Duncan chimed in, "And back you up… in case he still got some 'Legion' in him."

I appreciated their sentiment, but remembering who I brought into the Temple three nights back made me chuckle at the young man's offer. Duncan wondered what was funny, John was left with that look from earlier, and Nathan was just happy to be here. I concluded that none of this was worth protesting and silently nodded for them to follow as I turned and stepped up to the younger Neil family still outside.

I asked them very politely if they could return to this residence some other time and that discretion with this person was very important. Mia nodded but Leon said softly how he was waiting for his mother inside. Wondering what the 70+ year old Ms. Neil was doing out of her home, let alone at the current home of the burned New Canaanite, I gave assurance that I would escort her out gently. The couple nodded, so did their two children, and I turned the knob on the shack door, stepping inside and leaving the light of day behind as it shut behind Nathan.

The air was still in the musty shack. There were no windows, but my eyes adjusted quickly to the several lanterns on the walls and hanging from above as I began to hear a soft conversation that took the place of the midday business of the market outside. When my eyes came to, the three guardsmen stood beside me near the doorway and there I saw the burned man, Joshua, sitting on the rusty little bedframe against the back wall. Wearing nothing but a pair of ripped bootcut jeans, and with his torso only half wrapped while the bandaged face of the man was locked in focus on the slim old woman in her rolling chair, Ms. Neil. The two had scarcely noticed our arrival save for a brief glance given to me by the burned man before those eyes went right back to the woman. The guardsmen beside me looked idly around the place at all the scattered articles of clothing, bandages, and various baskets from his time in the clinic. Nathan maneuvered over to a nearby table and began to idly organize and study the bottles of burn lotion while the other two remained next to me. My ears entered mid-conversation just to hear the old Ms. Neil saying in her soft whithered voice;

"… There was nothing quite like that winter.. I believe that was around the time I lost my dear Patrick, rest his soul…" Joshua remained eyes locked on the old woman, slowly nodding concernedly here and there, "… If it wasn't for Bishop Black and Elder Grayson, I wouldn't have been able to raise Leon out there the way I did. He was just a newborn then…."

She paused in recollection, then went on slowly after a silent moment, "… Now unless I'm mistaken, I believe that was the same year your parents passed as well. Those were hard days, even then… But I know now that God had so much good for me even in the midst of all those sad days. If it wasn't for that, I never would have become the orphan mother in those days, never would have had the opportunity to love all those babies and help all those families left behind…"

She paused again and before the silence went on too long, she snapped herself out of another moment of recollection and gripped Joshua's leg. The man winced in pain, but it didn't show to Ms. Neil, and Joshua embraced it strongly until her hand left his leg and her face made a smile grow under the bandages. Meeting his eyes again, she switched moods immediately as a memory from those days struck her;

"… I never would have met you!..." She grabbed his leg again briefly only to take it away as she went on jovially, "... My how you were such a happy baby. You used to love your favorite teddy and that smile you made when I tickled your-…." She paused, again lost in happy memories of decades ago while the eyes of Joshua remained on her, "… You kept that bear for years… Now I don't know if you remember that, but you used to walk around with him all the time..." She muttered something, trying to recall another memory, "What did you call him?..." Again, her soft voice lit up as she announced, "I remember 'Mr. Gappy!' you so loved that bear. I couldn't take him away from you even if I tried!…" The woman laughed to herself and Joshua hung his head in humility with that smile still hidden beneath the bandages.

"… You weren't but 2 years old... or maybe 3? When Bishop Black adopted you, but I would always come around. I watched you when you were a little baby, seeing you grow up, and become such a busy young man… Now I'm sure Judah never told you, but I think it was around the time you were 12 that I thought Bishop Black fancied me…"

The woman colored, "I fancied him too. So many years had passed since I lost my Patrick and he lost his Ellen. We went on a few walks about the town, but he was busy with the Temple, and I was too busy with the kids. It just wasn't the time. Nothing ever came of us, but Judah and I remained the greatest of friends all the way until he passed."

Finally, Joshua said with a small croak in his voice after clearing his throat, "No, ma'am, Judah never told me about that, but I do remember visiting with you all the time as I grew up."

The woman interjected with a soft laugh, "I'd hoped you would remember me, after all, when you weren't learning and studying tribal talk with your father- the Bishop, you were apprenticing Mr. and Mrs. Cline at the bakery. You remember?"

Joshua hung his head again briefly before stating in amused humility, "Vaguely. It's been a long time."

Ms. Neil went right along, "For four years, I watched you pass my door on the way home covered in white and smelling just like the Cline's. I'd always wave you down and you'd always reply the same thing, 'I'm covered in flour, Ms. Neil!' hahaha…"

Her laugh died out and Joshua was left with that smile beneath the bandages as he sat in all humbleness before the little old woman. After a moment she went on, "You were such a gentleman, seeing you grow into that handsome young man…"

Joshua added quickly in the pause, "You're too much, Ms. Neil."

Immediately, the woman said, "… And so kind too…" she paused once more and then patted his leg again before she leaned back in the wheelchair and added, "… I see you never lost that…" Once more, there was another long silence, almost as if everyone in the room knew what she was going to say next. Then she said it;

"… I always knew those stories that came about you weren't true. Even looking at you now, seeing all those wicked marks, I still see that happy baby I met all those years ago…"

It likely wasn't more than a few seconds, but the moment after that appeared to last for far longer than the previous pauses in the elderly woman's recollection. With the woman's back to us, I knew the smile of rosy memories remained on her face while I felt the face of everyone else in the room drop to one of dead seriousness as Joshua lifted his head once more to the old woman.

The silence ended with a deep and dry, "Sorry, ma'am, those stories are true," that came from behind the bandages out of a throat destroyed by barking so many horrible commands through the decades of barbaric tribal wars. The words were not hostile in tone or choice, they entered the world as nothing more than a mere fact. The fact that although he may have been the happy baby Ms. Neil remembered, he was also the same man who orchestrated the butchering and enslavement of so many people during his self-imposed exile.

Another silence lingered in the air of the musty shack as every occupant ran over what they had heard and what was last said. In the end, the silence died once more when the woman, as she'd evidently been one to do, patted his leg again and rested it there with the soft words spoken like the truth her age and experience of life alone could affirm, "Well… You're still alive, so the Lord's clearly not done with you yet."

Joshua grasped the hand on his leg, enduring the pressure and pain it was causing to the skin beneath, for the gesture of acceptance was well worth the pain. The wonder of that innocent moment between Ms. Neil and Joshua came to a terrible end when Nathan by the table accidentally dropped one of the bottles of burn cream he was idly stacking.

The woman turned in her chair as far as she could and said to the room, "Oh my, there's someone else in here? Listen to me rambling away! I had no idea…"

Just then I stepped further into the room and view of Ms. Neil, making myself known, "Hello all, apologies for not announcing, my men and I were captured by your stories Ms. Neil."

"A wonder to see you, Paul. How's the family? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" asked the woman.

I obliged the woman's outstretched arms and felt a wet kiss land right on my cheek before I summarized the status of my family and hastily said, "… You aren't interrupting anything, Ms. Neil. Although I would like to have a private talk with Mr. Graham here whenever is convenient for you."

The woman turned her chair a bit and glanced at the other guardsmen who she would've recognized if they weren't too far away from her aged eyes. She still replied all the same, "I think I've kept my son and the family waiting long enough, so say no more, Paul…"

She turned further around in her chair, giving Graham one last look and a kiss she blew his way as I gestured to John to help her along. As John took his place behind her chair and gently moved her towards the exit, she was talking softly as if I was the one pushing her.

With a departing, "… Hannah is such an angel, I hope you and Dani will send her to the orphanage for apprenticeship…"

I said, "That sounds like a wonderful idea, you take care, Ms. Neil."

The door opened and slowly shut with the woman's departure, and everyone left in the room gave a simultaneous, "Bye, Ms. Neil!"

When the woman was out of the room, John, Duncan, and Nathan appeared at my side in the center of the room as though they had teleported and were immediately focusing the entirety of their perceptions on the community's object of recent fascination; Joshua Graham.

The man continued to sit where he was on that bed, and as the men to my sides studied him, he turned his eyes to each of us as an uncomfortable silence flooded the room. It wasn't too long before Joshua broke that silence with an innocent;

"How're you, Paul? Hadn't seen you in a few days."

I stayed quiet, wondering what to say in response as my mind was trying to remember the reason I was here. My eyes were fixed on the small flap of bandage wrap sitting in a little pile on the right side of his half-wrapped torso.

Nathan answered instead with a question, "Need some help wrapping that?" evidence that his eyes were also focused on the same non-important things that I was.

I continued to think of why I was here with these three when Joshua replied to the guardsman unknown to him, "No, no I think I'm alright. Thank you for offering though."

Nathan thought aloud, "Your voice is deep. Was it always that deep?" the question fell on the deaf ears of everyone in the room, including Joshua who I think purposely ignored it. However, the irrelevance of that question seemed to spark something, and I remembered why I was here. I immediately said to Joshua,

"I'm here on behalf of the Constable and Bishop Mordecai to ask about-"

Instantly I was cut off with the three guardsmen beside me all deciding to clear their throats in unison.

There I remembered common courtesy that I shouldn't have even needed to conduct in the first place as this interview was supposed to be done solo. The interruption made me relent, and I took a step back, gesturing to each man as I said;

"Mr. Graham, this man is the second of my detachment, John Langdon. The man beside him is, Mr. Duncan Schmitt of Lt. Doyle's detachment, and the man on my left here who was knocking over your possessions is another one of mine, Mr. Nathan Porter."

The guardsmen replied shortly, save for Nathan who said, "I go by Nate mostly."

Graham nodded at each man as I pointed them out and then another awkward moment of quiet ensued. The moment was short however, and before too long, Joshua returned his attention to me, asking once more;

"What can I do for the Constable and Bishop?"

The question made me remember in an instant and with a brief glance at the guardsmen beside me, I recalled the words of my commander and the Bishop. Although the secrecy of the information I was required to obtain was still up for debate, I knew inside that this chat was to be a private one. Seeing the eyes of the guardsmen still intensely focused on the bandaged man atop the bed, I said to Mr. Graham lowly, "I need to discuss the matter in mind with you alone."

The eyes of the guardsmen never left Joshua, but the burned man nodded in apparent understanding before he addressed them;

"Men? I would like to address Mr. Young's concerns in private, but I can spare a moment to answer any question-"

Before he could finish, the three of them made an incoherent noise before I beat all of them to it by loudly saying, "Each of you gets one question. Nathan, we'll start with you. One at a time."

John and Duncan shut their mouths as Nathan immediately asked, "How did you like the gift bucket!?"

Joshua sat up further and let out an extra breath that could have been a laugh. He took the ball of bandage and began finishing the wrapping job as he asked plainly, "Which one was yours?"

I heard John mutter to himself how Nathan stole his question but Nathan explained, "It was the one from my pal here, Mr. Langdon, as well as Mr. William Ramos and Carl Northrup. The tag had Lieutenant's name on the card too but he didn't do any of the shopping…" Accompanying a light nudge in my side, Nathan addressed me, "Sorry chief."

Between the slit in the bandages around his head, Joshua's eyes went to a nearby table where he remembered the gifts in this particular gift bucket referred to. Joshua said, "I appreciated it. The .45 ammo and gecko jerky was very… thoughtful. I don't have much use for the ammo, for I have no weapon in my possession or intent to get one. Still, the ammo can help me pay for food when the baskets run out, so thank you very much."

Nathan said, "You're welcome, sir. But don't forget about that salt too, it's great for preserving, and that stuff was hard to come by, but I hope you make great use of the lighters and cooking cups too. Those were mine…" said Nathan somewhat sadly at the end, having his contributions go ignored by the Burned Man. After another short pause, John was about to speak when Nathan added hastily, "Oh and try to save a few of those bullets, me and the boys are saving up to get you-"

I jumped in, "Alright, that's enough Nathan."

Still focused on the gift of ammunition and then the latter part, John was whispering in my ear how they got the ammo from their own stock, and although that was nice to hear, I wasn't sure how to handle the idea of my guardsmen deciding they'd apparently taken it upon themselves to Arm the man our community has only just welcomed back. I decided I'd talk to them about such ideas later, but for the moment, all I could do was turn to John and say, "John, your question, go."

He halted his whispered assurances abruptly, turned to Graham, stone-faced, and asked a question I'd been wondering for a while myself;

"So when you recover, what are you going to do? You going to stick around, move into town, or move on to somewhere else?"

The room dropped to an even more dead silence than at any previous moment. The burned man leaned back and continued to touch up his torso's wrapping as he thought. At last, he looked back up and said;

"That's a question I've been getting often from my visitors, and as I have said to them, I can only say that I am not certain…"

He paused, looking at each of our faces, lingering a bit longer on the questioner before he explained further, "On my way here, I considered only visiting a short while before departing into the wilderness long before anyone ever found out my name… A plan I might still act upon, but one that's losing its desire to be…" He paused again, focusing on me as he addressed John;

"Truly, it's what your commander did for me that night in the Temple, the confession I made to him and Our Lord, and what happened with everyone afterward that is fast removing my will towards my prior inclination…"

I felt each of the men look briefly at me before their eyes went back to him. As this happened, Graham looked back to John and said,

"… With all that has happened in such a short time, I think-…" he paused then swallowed, as if fighting back a recurring storm from a terrible past and with the memory of what a bright new day looks like, "… I think I would like to stay… What I will do to make up for how I've already been received, I'm still figuring that out. Rest assured however, I will offer up any of my abilities when I learn what they are. I just need to recover a little more and collect my strength."

John unexpectedly gulped and wiped something from his eye at the man's words as he choked out in forced collectedness, "Sure thing, take your time and get back to us."

I saw Nathan glance over at John to see if he was alright and my eyes remained on Graham. Unsure what to think, I said after a moment, "Next."

The silence mentioned above was almost nothing compared to the one that came after the young man on John's right spoke his question;

"So… I don't really know you the way these guys do but here's my bit; Would you have come back here if you didn't get burned and thrown in the canyon? What makes you think you deserve to come back here, get all this kindness, and let alone stay?"

Instinctively I swatted Nathan in the ribs as if he were the one to ask that, but I already whispered my apology to the man as Joshua's eyes were locked on the young Duncan standing beside John. I could see the face beneath the mask had not changed, it remained cold and emotionless as if the aggressive question was never asked. Even though the tone of Duncan's question was not delivered in hostile tone, it came as someone who still did not quite grasp the words and reality of what he hears every Sunday in service, or twice a week in guardsmen studies.

The silence persisted and I could feel Duncan adjusting uncomfortably as Joshua's eyes peered through him and the noise of the markets outside became audible for the first time since entering this home. Still, the question circulated through all of our minds and it occurred to me that I too was wondering the answer to this particular question. Perhaps a small part of every New Canaanite, perhaps even some of the ones in the Temple that night, had that same question sitting somewhere in their minds even if it was deep down. "Why did He deserve to be welcomed back? Sure I've done bad, I've sinned, but mine haven't been nearly as bad as Joshua Graham's?"

The question hovered in all our minds, maybe except for Duncan, who was likely more focused on how to appear composed in the lock of those flaming blue eyes there in the wrapping. Although most of us already knew our versions of the answer, Joshua ended this long moment with the only answer he could give based on the life he lived, and his experience with the question of "Do I deserve the benefits of mercy for what I've done?" Joshua Graham spoke the only true answer to that question;

"I don't…"

Neither me, John, nor Nathan was surprised by this, and although Mr. Schmitt kept his composure, I knew even from where I was standing in the room that he wasn't expecting that. Perhaps he was expecting to hear something along the lines of "Yes, because Jesus says to forgive people." And although that is true, such simplicity doesn't account for all the horrors man can inflict and endure. It doesn't account for how much suffering is required for one to truly understand all Christ went through for us. It doesn't account for the enormity of all that suffering inside the world of man. It doesn't account for the entire testament of old or the long and bitter road that led to the arrival of The Son. Something as simple as that doesn't show the whole picture, or why the forgiveness is required in the first place. Looking back to the days of Moses, stopping to truly look at the world of today, and bear witness to all the tragedy throughout the centuries is the only way of finally understanding the world the way it is and how the only way for it to end is for everyone to Just Stop. Just stop. Let it go. Forgive so you can just move forward and not get mired in everything already Done. What's Done is unchangeable. All that can be done going forward is to go forward with the knowledge of what happened yesterday does not Have to define what you could be tomorrow.

All this began to take shape in the mind of all of us when Joshua went on;

"... I don't deserve any of what this place or any of you have already done for me. What I Deserve is to be ripped apart by dogs, to feel a blade glide across my throat, to be impaled, made to watch as my friends are pummelled into the grave… To be burned alive…" He paused, never taking his eyes off Duncan.

"I have been responsible for the end of thousands. I deserve to be killed in every way I have done to others, but my death would not be justice. I can't be killed by every means I've killed; that simply isn't possible, for I only have one life…" He paused, let out a completely defeated, but somehow amused breath, "… make that two lives..."

He paused again, then met Duncan's eyes with an even more vicious intensity. Despite this, the wrapped face might as well have been transparent as I could see the understanding in his look before he said penetratingly calm;

"But I don't believe, I know that I was spared for a reason. I feel that reason with every terrible breath I take, every painful word I say, every agonizing move I make. The flame burned a reminder into me that is not allowed to heal…"

He began to stare at the floor beneath Mr. Schmitt, his words trailing off as his hands drifted to different parts of his body and tiny specks of blood began to subtly dot parts of his wrapped body. All of us stared at the man in abject horror as the tiny red dots on his bandaged body began to grow unmistakably. Most remained small, but my entire focus was on one red mark in particular above his right breast that seemed to be growing faster than the others. The silence went on and his bandages were soon spotted in dots of blood and the one that caught my attention began to grow heavy and drip down his chest, merging with the other dots on its way down, and terrifying all of us beyond words as he went on;

"… Nothing can heal me, nothing can fix me now. I got what I deserved, and now I have to carry it…"

I heard Nathan whisper almost inaudibly to himself, "What in the world is happening to him?" as the burned man was slowly becoming the blood-soaked man.

I couldn't speak even if I wanted to, and Joshua's eyes returned to the young Duncan while the blood continued to soak his bandages.

"I want nothing more than for the pain to stop, but it won't. All I know is that He's not done with me, but I need help. I don't know what He wants me to do, but I felt my life get burned away, my baptism completed. I feel cleansed, born anew... Forgiven."

The blood flow had stopped, his bandages covered in red dots and streams, and the silence returned as he paused. His eyes fell to the ripped jeans, and even though I knew he had begun to notice his blood-dotted wrapping, the sight did nothing to change his demeanor. There his head hung for another long moment and even though the dot on his chest never grew more than the size of a bottlecap, his body of wrappings was almost covered in drying or still dripping blood. The four of us were petrified at the scene and all Joshua did upon discovery of so much blood was look back up at the young man who asked him the question that seemingly affected him in every way including physically. There he said at last;

"… Just because I'm forgiven, that doesn't mean I'm free from the consequences of what I did. I have been permitted to continue on, I know that now… and the pain will forever remind me of where that other path leads…"

The last words came out like a plea for help, something that would have been a cry of agony if what he held inside hadn't leaked out in blood in place of tears from the eyes. At last, he looked to all of us, covered in bloody bandages, and said to us four;

"I'll never be able to repay what He, you, and everyone in this place has already done for me, but I will try with everything that's left of me…"

All at once, the world resumed spinning, and Joshua hung his head once more, apparently just now beginning to feel the pain of what's been happening to him. The blood soaked man clenched his fists, resting them on his knees, but even that was agonizing for the intact nerve endings on his legs.

Even if there were doubts about the truth of his conviction in the hearts of myself or the men next to me, what he said, and what he was enduring with every second of his resurrected life was so painful that I knew in an instant he was telling the truth. He had been saved, and the pain of his existence would only push him onward, towards the one who saved him with a second chance. We all had a part in Joshua's continual saving, the same way he did in mine, and so the only thing I could do upon return to the reality of the present was take my seat beside him and help him with a fresh wrapping.

The others were locked in near paralysis for several moments after Joshua was done speaking, and Duncan was the first to help me, followed by Nathan, then John. Carefully, I helped Joshua unwrap his torso, peeling away the bandages to see his scarred body covered in bubbles and popping blisters. The ruined wrappings were covered in blood and puss from the living reminder of sin that was his body. Duncan, tossed me a cloth and a roll of fresh bandages from one of the gift baskets scattered about. Joshua took the cloth and began to wipe himself down while I continued discarding the ruined bandages. Despite the horrific state of the bandages, Joshua said to save them and that he could wash and reuse them. As Joshua wiped himself down, the brush of cloth against his skin was clearly as painful as almost any other action, but still, that didn't stop him. Nathan tossed Joshua one of the scattered bottles of burn cream, but it only landed in his lap and made him say softly to the room how he would apply it later. Other than his words of gratuity at our quiet assistance, none of us spoke other than him. John took the discarded bandages from the floor and compiled them into one of the empty gift buckets and placed a nearby box of detergent on top before placing the ragged container beside the door.

After Joshua was done wiping himself down, he took the roll of fresh bandages into his own hands and began the silent work of replacing the old and destroyed with the fresh and clean. I helped cover his back, since his arms couldn't go that far, and before too much longer, his torso was completely covered once more as it had been earlier with only his skinless arms exposed to the world. Miraculously, none of the bandages on his head suffered the random bleeding, and upon noticing this, I began to wonder. Was there a reason for that? Was there a reason all those bubbling blisters began to pop when he started talking about his suffering? I had no idea, but before I could think much longer, the tone of the room had returned to at least some semblance of normalcy when Nathan, with his foot up on a stool, said;

"Should think about double wrapping… Might help prevent something as freaky as that from happening again?"

The rest of us remained silent when to my surprise, Joshua addressed the man with something like amusement in his voice, "Why would I do that? Summoning my blood could be quite the instrument of fright in the proper circumstance."

As my men and I took in the words, John asked in an instant, "You can do that at will?"

Joshua was silent a moment and I felt my face turn bewildered before the wrapped man answered, "No. But how fine would that be?"

The men found themselves softly chuckling and I found myself as well. Even in that short little exchange, I could tell inside that Joshua was going to be fast friends with the guard. All went quiet once more after the moment and I noticed Mr. Schmitt had still not said a word since the question that seemingly sparked this whole episode. Then, at long last, the quiet of the room ended when I felt the eyes of Joshua upon me, and when I turned to meet them, he asked;

"Now Paul I understand you had questions for me as well?"

I briefly glanced at the guardsmen still in the room and shifted my eyes toward the door. John, Duncan, and Nathan all wordlessly agreed to depart, and they did so with their final words of farewell directed at the returned prodigal.

The sudden flow of blood coming from all those blisters may have been "coincidental", but the reader already knows my definition of that word. Whether or not Joshua was killed and reborn at the canyon, or merely survived the impossible, the truth remained: He was here now. His story was not over. He emerged from the fire cleansed, forgiven, and with the aid of his long-lost brothers like us in the guard, he now had others to help carry his cross and cope with the lasting consequences of his past.