Josiah’s
After everyone had seen the sketch, Ezra accepted it back
and reached into the carved box for the piece from Josiah’s collection. He pulled out a beaded strand and crucifix.
“Sanchez wore this until the day he died. Hannah had made it for him when they were
children and he always wore it as a reminder of what had happened. The others took care of her after his death,
since he had finally told them about her when she got sick and nearly died
about a year after Tanner left for
“Openly?” Nathan asked, wondering what in the
world he meant by that.
Ezra looked uncomfortable for a second before saying, “Well,
Tanner was the only that Sanchez had told, up to that point, but one of the
others had figured out something was up and did a little research on his
own. He kept what he learned to himself,
but he always tried to help Josiah get time off when he wanted to go see Hannah
after that.”
Satisfied, Nathan turned back to the crucifix that had made
around it to him and looked at it closely.
One could tell it had been made by a child, the knots were oversized and
rough, but it was also in good condition, though worn smooth with much loving
handling. As he handed it back to Ezra,
he asked, “How did Sanchez die?”
“He died peacefully in his sleep at the age of 75. He was the only one of the seven to do
so.” Ezra told them. “They had meant to bury him with the
crucifix, but somehow it had fallen behind the undertaker’s table and wasn’t
found until a couple of months later.
The undertaker gave it the
“Well, it’s getting late, so I will bid you good night,”
Ezra tried to fudge as he stood to leave, but JD called his bluff.
“Hey, it not that late, and what
about your box? You never even opened it!” JD pointed out.
Ezra stood silently for a few moments, before
confessing. “JD, I haven’t opened the
box since my father died, and I’m not really sure I remember what is in there
any more.”
Compassion bloomed in Chris’s heart as he thought of the
young boy Ezra had once been, uprooted time and again, trying to keep memories
alive, but losing them slowly to time and a woman that only cared what she
could get from him.
“Then come on, Standish.
We can all discover what’s there together,” Chris said as he stood and
towed Ezra over to the lone box sitting be itself. Ezra looked uncertain, but finally squared
his shoulders and pulled out his pocket knife again.
Chris alone knew the real reason for Ezra’s
trepidation. It wasn’t only that he
couldn’t remember, but also that he was afraid that it wouldn’t match. They each had been so similar to their
counterparts, and Ezra was afraid he wouldn’t be, that he would be the odd man
out again.
