The riders entered the church building and sat down quietly in the back row. They weren't looking forward to spending the day with this group of people, but Emma hadn't really given them a choice. She had made it very clear that she expected them not only to attend, but to be on their very best behavior. She had been especially concerned about Buck since he was the only one who wasn't a Christian. She hoped that he wasn't upset at her instance that he attend, but she intended on having these boys grow up to be God-fearing men.
Buck sat down next to Ike and sighed. He looked around the building trying to find the many statues and figures that he knew from the mission. They weren't there. He looked at Ike and shrugged. *This isn't a Catholic Church,* Ike explained.
Buck just continued to look at Ike with a confused expression. Ike grinned, *Not all churches are the same.*
Buck nodded. *Maybe this won't be so bad,* he signed.
Ike agreed, *And it will be conducted in English. Only the Catholic Church uses Latin for its services.*
Buck relaxed a little and decided to give this place a chance. He knew Ike really accepted the beliefs about the white man's god; maybe he should try and understand those beliefs better. He sat back, prepared to listen and learn.
The service went pretty much the same as the ones at the mission except that Buck could understand what was being said. He had decided that this wouldn't be such a bad thing to endure every so often if it would keep Emma happy when something the preacher was saying caught his attention. He sat up straighter and focused his attention on the speaker.
"O Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever! Psalm 118:1," the pastor repeated. "This verse is telling us how wonderful God's love for us is. . ."
Buck quit paying attention to the pastor and let his mind drift back. . .
"Now try it again," came the command followed by a sharp rap on the desk next to him. Buck worked to control his anger. He didn't understand what he had done wrong. He had said the verse the way she had told him. Why was she still so upset? He took a deep breath to steady his voice, "O gibe tanks. . ."
"No," she screamed. This time the rod struck him instead of the desk. The other children laughed. Buck glared at her and then sat down. He didn't care how much she yelled at him or hit him; he wasn't standing to recite anything else. He wasn't giving the little kids anything else to laugh at. When he silently refused to stand up and begin once more, the laughter turned to stunned silence and maybe even a bit of awe. No one refused Sister Agatha. After several sharp blows, Buck stood. He looked at the other children and then at the nun standing in front of him.
"Once more," she said.
"No," Buck answered as he turned and left the room. A silence born of shock fell over the students as Sister Agatha just stood there and watched him leave.
The Mother Superior, Sister Mary Francis, found him a few hours later. He was sitting in the hay loft, writing.
"May I see?" she asked as she joined him.
He nodded and handed her his slate. She looked at it and smiled. "That is wonderful," she said handing it back. "Why are you writing that?"
He looked at her trying to decide if she was also mocking him. He decided she wasn't and said, "It what she wants me to learn. Is right?"
Sister Mary Francis nodded. "It's right and also written very neatly. So, why didn't you show her?"
"I did. She make me say, then get mad. I not understand," Buck explained.
"Can you say it for me?" Sister Mary Francis asked.
Buck shook his head. "Not want more people mad," he said as he rubbed his shoulder where Sister Agatha had struck him.
"I won't get mad," Sister Mary Francis said. "I promise."
Buck looked at her. Of all the nuns here she was the only one who didn't look at him with disgust. He had noticed that she also seemed to take a special interest in the scary, silent boy. He sighed, "O Gibe tanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steedfast love endoor foreber."
She smiled, "That's very good. You just mispronounced a few words."
Buck looked at her, but said nothing.
She looked back at him for a few seconds. "It's 'give,' with a 'v,' not 'gibe' with a 'b'," she said. "Try it. Give."
Buck looked at the ground, "gibe" he said.
She shook her head, "Say vvv…"
Buck said, "V"
"Good," she smiled. "Now say, 'give'."
"Give," he said.
"That's it!" she exclaimed.
"O Give tanks," he started.
"Thanks," she corrected.
"Thanks," he tried.
She nodded.
"O Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good. . ."
"Excellent," she said. "Let's go back and show her how well you can do when shown what was wrong."
The people standing brought Buck back to the present. He smiled at Ike. He decided that there must be something to the belief that this god was good. After all, if it wasn't for his followers Buck would never have met Ike. He stood and prepared to exit the building smiling as he thought back to his life before that verse. At the door he stopped, "I'll be right out," he said to Emma. He returned to the sanctuary and knelt down at the altar. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for giving me Ike and these new friends."
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