Choices In Time

Chapter XVII

Another day began in the little town of Rock Creek.  The morning rays gently touched the turning leaves, highlighting their slight orange and yellow tints.  A light morning breeze swept over the dusty landscape, lifting the mere particles of dirt in the air like a child playing with grains of sand in the palms of his hands.  It was a new day.  Another day just like any other to the eyes of an outsider.  Or was it only an illusion?   A pretense?  Unlike the week before, this one would  not be the same.  It would not be just another week in Rock Creek.  It would be a week to begin all weeks to come.  It would change the course of this small town and with it bring a whole new set of hurdles for the little, red schoolhouse in this dusty, little town...

The door of the Mayor's house banged loudly.  Fiercesome thuds echoed over the wooden slab.  The iron door knock was ignored as a heavy fist pounded again and again on the wood, shaking the frame holding the door and the windows to go along with it.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilson sat enjoying breakfast this fine morning as they did every day for the past thirty years.  It was the one time of daily solitude they shared and so valued their special routine closely.  Conversation teemed around family and responsibilities.  A listening ear was sure to be given, along with a word or two of encouragement or advice. 

Until now all was peaceful but the sudden interruption shook them from their morning respite.  The cup of black coffee was instantly set aside.  Husband and wife looked to the other, the same question being asked telepathically.  'Who was it and What was going on?'  Mayor Wilson wiped his mouth against the white napkin, a frown settling in his brow.  Such a knock never meant good news only trouble.  He gestured to his wife.  He would handle matters and so she sat there obediently.  The eyes of a worried wife followed her husband's exit but duty called to her. Obedience was cast aside and to his side she rushed.

The door was answered.   A set of dark, piercing eyes met the Mayor from the opposite side.  His eyes lifted to a scowl so deeply engraved, so stoutly set there was no mistaken, something had gone deathly awry.

Next to the man stood a boy.  He looked scared out of his wits.  He merely glanced at the Mayor for but a second but the look of terror behind the young boy's eyes was enough to warrant the politician's attention.

"What sort of a town are you runnin' here Mayor?"  The man who spoke was Nicholas Lynstrom.   He was known as a hard-nosed, stern sort of man.  Never pulling any punches, he was prone to speak the way he saw things, raw and straightforward which to most townfolks, tended to rub them the wrong way.

There was no adequate answer to such an ambiguous question.  Puzzlement marred the Mayor's face.

"What sort of town is this where a man cain't even send his own son to do some learnin' without his head being filled with the devil's work?" he blared.

What?  Devil's work?  "Now calm yourself down..."

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" he was quickly interrupted by the irate man.

"Well then do you mind telling me what's this all about?" our Mayor asked in the calmest manner under the circumstances. 

"I'm talking 'bout THIS!"  A piece of paper was shoved into the mayor's chest.  "Now you explain that ta me 'cause I tell ya...I ain't the only one steamin' mad 'bout this mayor.  You're gonna have a big problem on yer hands if you don't do somethin' 'bout this nonsense and right quick!"

The Mayor set his spectacles on his face, taking the paper which was so rudely smooched into his chest and smoothing it, saw the characters drawn obviously by a child's hand that had caused such a bitter outrage.  There was no need to inspect the sheet any further.  He knew exactly what the man referred to.

"And what's the problem with it?"

"W-What's...What's the problem?!" he snickered, a half-laugh following.  "I'll tell you what the problem is.  I don't send my boy to school to learn no Injun writin'.  I don't need no heathen teaching my boy nothin'...them's the devil's words."

"Mr. Lynstrom!  You are a Christian man.  How dare you judge another man's culture in such a disgraceful manner?" asked Mrs. Wilson, who upon hearing what all the commotion revolved around, spoke up as she took a stand next to her husband.

"'Course I should'a known you'd come to the rescue.  Our fiiine Mayor's wife," he said with a wry smirk, his words drowned in sarcasm.  "You got half this town feelin' sorry for those bloodsucking, witchdoctors!  You and that crazy daughter of yers.  You should be ashamed of yerself...tainting your pure white blood with that red trash!  'Fore you knows it...hell...we'll be livin' in a whole town full of 'em demon's children."

"Oh you ignorant man!" she cried out.

Mr. Wilson held his wife's hand as if to tell her everything would be okay.  She swallowed her words knowing that her husband was right.  Nothing would be accomplished in a battle of words, especially not with this man.  There were many things that flashed across Mr. Wilson's mind, from a quick punch to the jaw to a gentlemanly request to keep his family out of his grievance.  But neither would've done much good.  The Wilson's influence was noted in this town and both men knew it.

This hadn't been the first time Joshua's father had comfronted Mayor Wilson and his family regarding their sympathetic stand towards their Indian neighbors.  The Indians were allowed to come into town and trade, having to be dealt with fairly.  Their pelts were to be given the same value as those of the white traders or a hefty fine was imposed on those that defaulted on this friendly agreement.  It was an unspoken truth, but some of the shopowners of course weren't too pleased with this fine arrangement, feeling justified to treat the Indians as less and better yet, to steal from them altogether.  It was a dirty business and Wilson had vowed to put a stop to it.  He knew that as long as Rock Creek had the Indian nation's support, they were a safe people.  Unfortunately men like Lynstrom and the rest of his kind were too biased and shortsighted by their prejudices to see any benefit in this.  To them it was plain betrayal.

"It's just Indian sign.  It's their language.  What's the trouble with it?"

"Look here Mr. Mayor.  We put you in office and we can kick you out!  Your job is to do one simple thing, make our town safe.  It's bad enough our doors are open to the Reds, now you're lettin' one of them put his witchery into our children's heads?!  Don't you get it?  It's their way of making us weak.  They know they can't get to us older folks so they're going after our sons and daughters!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Am I?  First they come as friends, teach ya all sorts of new things...ain't that what they done with the settlers in these parts?  And then once they got yer trust, they come back when yer guard is down...an' BANG!  Slaughter you like helpless sheep.  Tell me you ain't heard the stories there Mayor.  Now you got one of THEM right under the roof of our schoolhouse.  Right under our very noses."

"As far as I know, Mr. Cross is providing a fine service to this community.  He is a good man.  You don't know what..."

"I don't need to know him!" he yelled.  "I say the only good Injun is a dead Injun and that's the way I rather see 'em.  Every last one of 'em!"

There was no reasoning with the man.  He was sitting high on his laurels, his hate running deep.  The Mayor always wondered why was it that such fear shone in his eyes?  He could see it plainly.  It was the sort of fear that only a nursing hate could attempt to veil.  He just wasn't sure why.

"You tell that schoolteacher of yers that my boy ain't steppin' foot in that school until that half-breed is gone!  And if she wants to teach as much as one more day, she best do what's expected of her.  That goes for you too Mayor!"

With a firm hold on his son, Nicholas Lynstrom stormed from the fenced-in yard of the Mayor's house, the wooden gate being slammed on the way out.  Fortunately for our kind Mayor, the incident occurred on private property, away from the town itself.  There really was no telling what such fiery words could do to a volatile people like those found in Rock Creek.  The fire had to be put out before a blaze was borne.

"Daddy...you're not going to let that man tell you what to do are you?"

The door now closed, the Mayor turned to his daughter, putting on a smile for his cherished little girl.  She stood there in her nightgown, her toes barely visible under the cotton fabric and he recalled how it was only yesterday when she stood before him an innocent little girl, oblivious to the world's turmoil.  But now, she wasn't oblivious nor a little girl any longer.  There was a fighter behind the long eyelashes and silken hair.  A woman, finding her place in this unfair world.

Mrs. Wilson stood next to Charlotte, an arm draped around her.

Her father removed his spectacles, tucking them back into its case as he held the accusatory evidence in hand.  "No Charlotte, he's not going to tell me what to do.  He's only one voice...a very loud, intollerable voice," he sighed, "which can do a heap of damage if we're not careful."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm going to have to speak with Rachel regarding this situation.  I just don't want there to be any trouble over this."

"It's that horrible man that's the cause...not Rachel...nor Buck," added Mrs. Wilson firmly.

"I know.  But times are dangerous now mother.  One small thing can escalate into war and we can't afford for that to happen.  I know when to fight and when to sit back and let things simmer down."

"Are you saying you're going to stop the children from learning what Buck's been teaching them?" Charlotte asked, her voice rising a bit.

"I'm not saying that they'll have to stop learning but...maybe we need to rethink our approach."

Charlotte frowned, taking a step toward her father.  "You're going to tell Buck he can't teach, is that it?"  Her question was asked softly but as the realization of what she knew her father would propose struck her, Charlotte's voice pitched.  "Is that your solution?!"

"Charlotte please..." her mother tried to calm her.

"Stop it mother!  That is exactly what he's going to do!  You can't do that to him!  He's got as much right as anyone to be there!" 

Mr. Wilson understood his daughter, knew her like he knew himself.  Her passion was uncanny; unlike any he'd ever seen.  His words would have to be weighed carefully, so as to calm her stirred spirit.  "Sweetheart, I know that as well as you do.  I'm not saying it's a dead end.  But..." he sighed, "sometimes necessary steps need to be carefully planned.  I will talk with Rachel...and Buck.  I'm sure we can come to a suitable compromise."

was still skeptical about whatever this compromise could be.  Life wasn't fair, and it was extremely so in Buck's case.  He was afterall half-white.  Why were they so intent only to see his other half?  Didn't his white heritage matter to them?  Was a man only what they saw on the outside?  Apparently.

She had resorted to leave things as they were between herself and Buck.  She loved him and he confessed the same for her.  Their feelings for each other were stronger now than ever before.  Nevertheless, Buck had a struggle, a wrestling within himself.  What was he?  Who was he?  Where did he belong?  Where did she?  Charlotte knew he needed to find the answers for himself, and as long as they remained enigmas, there was no real future for them.

Her father's reassurances were of little comfort to her.  It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear.  The Mayor, she knew, was a politician afterall.  Her father was a man with a big heart.  Could they coincide in one man to do the right thing?  The moral thing? 

"Daddy..." her lips trembled as she choked back her emotions.  "Pleeease...don't take this away from him.  It'll...it'll kill him...please...don't."

Bright eyes were now clouded by a pool of tears.  A child's look that called out for help not to a stranger but to a parent.  He embraced his daughter and no matter what words he could tell her, they would mean nothing if there were no actions behind them.  What could he do to keep his daughter's heart safe as well as the people of Rock Creek?

Mrs. Wilson  on the other hand understood her husband's job very well.  She had been a politician's wife long enough to know how the game was played.  Her husband had a town to think about first and foremost.  Some moves were strategic, others no-brainers.  There wasn't a man in Rock Creek that envied her husband's position.  Who would be foolish enough to?  These were exciting but perilous times.  With the sound of war echoing West stronger by the minute, people were already on the edge; a slight tip of the scales could cause a shockwave to beckon the Army's presense.  The times when good hearts were put to the test were here.  It wasn't a time for the weak.  It was a time when tough choices had to be made.   

Jimmy slipped on his black jacket over a paisley tailored vest.  Lewis had payed another visit, this one more disturbing.  If they thought keeping Lewis in the dark was going to be easy, he gave them reason to think twice about that now.  The news was broken by their close friend that Carson had gotten tipped regarding a James "Wild Bill" Hickok coming on board The Southern Belle last night.  As reported, Carson was now on alert, something Lewis found necessary to chirp in Jimmy's ear if he wanted his plan to be successful.  Rarely did these golden opportunities fall into a man's lap and Lewis wasn't giving up on this one.  He realized he might never again get another shot at conning Carson Moore and still come out smelling like a rose.  So a slight adjustment had to be made.  Their connections would have to be kept their secret.

"I don't like it Jimmy," Victoria protested, smoothing the lapels of his jacket flat to his chest.

"It's only temporary.  As soon as we get what we came for, we can go back to the way things were; no more pretending."

"I don't want it to be...temporary," she shot back.  "What am I going to do when we're standing in the same room together and...and I can't even speak to you?"

"Vic,..." he comforted, rubbing her arms with his large hands.  "It's safer this way.  As long as Carson Moore thinks I'm here as a gambler, he won't have a reason to suspect me...or you...or Kid and Lou.  Remember, he's after the gold too.  If we're together, it could be too dangerous."  Victoria frowned.  "I know," he continued, "it's killing me to think I won't be able to hold you in my arms, but don't worry.  It's only for a little while."

The plan had been laid out expertly by none other than Lewis.  All connections between Jimmy and the other three would have to be completely severed.  That is, from this point on they were nothing more than strangers.  This pretense was integral to their success. Adding to that, Lewis' own friendship with Jimmy, Kid and Lou was to be kept hidden from Carson at all costs.  The purpose would be served.  Carson would focus on Jimmy's reputation and that alone was a big card in their hand.  If Jimmy was as good a card shark as he'd heard, there would be no suspicion as to his winning big and none regarding Lewis' help along the way.  Of course, a thrown loss here and there wouldn't hurt any.  But, the goal was to win and win big enough to play at Carson's personal table.  Now there was where the big money was made.  The highest stakes of the tournament.

The four partners had spoken on the matter for hours, devising a plan of their own to get to the biggest prize; the gold.  Their debate went as follows:  "If his attention is on me, it leaves the three of you a better chance to get to the piece from that painting, and somehow get the last one from Carson himself.  We'll then have the map to get to the gold."

"And what're we going to do about Lewis?  He's going to start asking questions," noted Kid at once.

"Not as long as we do this right.  We keep him in the dark for as long as we can.  If we get him mixed up in this, Moore will think he was a party to all this."

Louise snickered.  "Well I don't think it matters, the man has no morals...I mean he's plotting to steal from his own boss...and we're helping him."  At times Lou got a touch of conscience that needed a word or two in order to be adjusted.  Her remark had been sarcastic enough to warrant a rebuttal from Jimmy. 

"Just because it's what we need to do Lou!  Do you want to be running a trail for the rest of your life?  I know I don't and neither does the Kid.  If we have to bend our mooorals a bit, I know I ain't gonna lose any sleep over it.  Besides, McBride has a son...he deserves a good life don't he?"

There was silence.  Jimmy was right.  McBride's gold would shower them with everything they'd ever wanted.  Nothing would escape their grasps any longer.  There would be little need for ogling or wishing.  This was afterall their dream wasn't it?  But aside from their own selfish endevours, there was a child involved.  A promise had been made.  If they gave in to fear and doubt, the only one who'd be left to enjoy McBride's treasure would be Carson Moore...and God knows he didn't need it.

"There's no playing fair in this game.  We knew what we came here to do.  Now let's do it."  Jimmy's brow crinkled tight as he spoke.  Truth was truth no matter how harsh it sounded.  They had two choices.  Play the game fairly and lose OR do what it took to get the reward.  To Jimmy the choice was simple.

"And how long is a little while?" Victoria asked.

"As long as it takes us to find that money.  Look Vic, we only have two weeks to do this then we have to go back to Rock Creek.  It's only two weeks take a few days already."  The warmth of his hand cupped her cheek.  His touch was the most intoxicating touch from any human she'd ever known, flooding her with so much emotion she almost felt lost apart from him.  Victoria pressed her face lightly into his hand, her eyes closed as if to brand his touch into her memory.

She felt her emotions creeping at the entrance of her throat.  "I don't want you to go."  A small hand touched the outside of his.  Her eyes slowly opened to look at him and she drowned in those warm pools of chocolate.  Her sight became blurred and she knew she couldn't hold them back any longer.  He was being taken away from her and though she knew in her mind it was only a little while as he'd reminded, it didn't feel that way.

"I know," he whispered.  If he didn't have to he wouldn't go.  If it would ensure their safety he wouldn't go.  But Jimmy knew better and so did she.  The longer he stuck around they ran a risk of discovery.  He took her in his arms, holding her tight like a soldier going off to war not knowing, but hoping to come back to his love's arms.  He felt her fingers clutch the back of his jacket as a soft, muffled sob escaped her.  His heart broke because he was leaving her.  He told her not to cry, that he knew she could do this, she was a strong filly and that's why he loved her.  She chuckled, he smiled.  Soon both of his hands cupped her cheeks as their lips met in a deep, almost dream-like kiss.  Her heart boomed and she fell into his arms like a rag doll, her tears wetting his face.  The words I love you...God they killed her but equally made her soar high.  "I know," she whispered against his lips, and held him, breathing deeply his scent as it burned into her.

Kid, followed by Louise entered from the other room.  Their faces wore the sadness they felt not because Jimmy was leaving them.  They knew he was right.  Seeing him being torn from the one woman he cherished was harder to deal with than they expected.  This wasn't just another run.  It wasn't his job.  Louise remembered the look of total resistance on Victoria when Lewis told them what needed to be done.  She argued.  Lewis tried to reason.  She argued some more, not deeming such a thing necessary.  There was fire in those eyes, a sting that Lou had rarely seen, recalling it being shot at her once from across the dining room table when they first met.  She was a fighter...all the way.

It was the sadness they saw in Victoria's eyes that made them feel as they did this very moment.  Jimmy had had many other women in his life but Victoria, she was by far different.  She would give her last red cent just to be with him.  Lou knew there was nothing Victoria possessed that already wasn't his.  She only hoped Victoria could go ahead as planned.  They needed her.

"It's time Jimmy," Kid interrupted, carrying the carpetbag filled with Jimmy's things.

They separated, Victoria wiping her tears away.  Jimmy walked over to Kid, taking the bag from his friend.  They looked at each other and as if he knew what Jimmy asked said, "I'll take care of her."

Jimmy nodded.  "You take care of yourselves."

Louise forced a smile, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.  "You be careful."

Jimmy wasn't much for words at times like this.  All that needed to be said had been said. 

He turned from his friends, grabbed his black hat, placing it on his head as he made his way towards the door.  Victoria took hold of his free hand one last time, threading her fingers with his.  She kissed the back of his hand saying, "I love you," and "be careful."

"I will."

He glanced over her to catch Kid and Lou's gaze.  "See you on the other side," Kid reassured with a slightly lighter tone as the door opened.

Jimmy swallowed hard.  His brown eyes fell back to Victoria, scanning her face as if it were the last time he'd ever see her.  He kissed her softly one last time, their lips lingering a bit.  But now it was time to go.  He couldn't tell her goodbye again; it was hard enough the first time.  He turned and she held on until his hand was no longer in hers.  He was gone out of her life for now, his footsteps fading as they echoed down the hall.  Victoria closed the door behind her, her eyes red and sullen.

"Lou?" she cried.  God she hated being so weak but she didn't have to pretend around them.  She felt safe to expose her weaknesses to them.  They wouldn't hold them against her or think she was being a blubbering baby.  They understood her relationship with Jimmy more so than they did themselves at times.  They were meant to be one just as Kid and Lou were meant for forevers. 

"Come on Vic...I know just what you need."

Like a security blanket, Louise wrapped her arms around her friend as they walked to their room.  Louise's voice was the only one Kid heard over Victoria's tiny sobs.  He was glad Lou was here since he wasn't one who knew how to handle such delicate situations.  Women and tears were never a good mix.  The door behind the girls slid closed and Kid plopped himself on the couch letting go a slow, gutteral breath.

He sat back, thinking about the last three days they'd spent here in this city.  Only one thought consumed his mind now.  He dug in his pocket, slipping out a piece of paper.  He'd jotted down the old clue.   Old man Witherby's voice played in his head like a broken record as he read it again. 

"The lady, the dog, her gentleman courter, stand guard all together with such deep emotions.  She tosses a coin, with dreams so sublime, and wishes a wish for riches to find.""

"For riches to find."

"Tell us another story Buck!  Pleeeeassseee..."  The ringing of the pleading girlish voice made him smile.

An echoing clatter followed the initial request.  Buck sat on a stool in the front of the class, his amber eyes a billboard into the soul of a man.  They shone as flashing signals in a dark place.  They bore a light that attracted, that gave a peek into some mystery world that had been kept secret for too long.

Rachel clapped her hands.  "Now children quiet down."  The room slowly quelled into silence.  "I'm sure Buck has other things he needs to get done today.  One story is more than enough." 

"I don't mind Rachel, that is if it's okay with you."

Rachel lifted a brow, a look of surprise converged on her face.

"Don't look so surprised Rachel, really I don't mind."

Rachel offered a wide smile, giving in to both sides.  "Then you are more than welcome."

The consent was met by a ruckus shout of "YEAH!" and stomping feet.

"They're all yours."

"Thanks," Buck chuckled. 

After the mad mass of school children were at last quiet enough for the Kiowa rider, he began his tale.

"This is one of my favorite stories told to me when I was a boy."

The children leaned forward in their desks, anxiously waiting for another story unlike any they'd heard before.  They loved Buck's stories.  Somehow there was a magic behind them.  They didn't have to travel to a far away land to some dark period of dungeons and dragons, knights and beautiful princesses.  Sure, those were pretty neat stories too, but Buck's stories were taken from things they saw everyday and would probably see for the rest of their lives.  They could relate to the beings he spoke of, seeing them now in a totally different content, not just as animate objects but as players in the world they lived in.

"Once it was always dark.  "Who will be the sun?" asked the Chief of the Kutenai.  Raven said, "Let it be me."  In the morning the animals watched for him to come up.  Raven came up and flew to the heavens but he was not bright enough.  The day looked black.  "You cannot be the sun," said the Chief of the Kutenai to Raven and he flew away.  Chicken Hawk said, "I will be the sun."  He too went up, high in the sky, and the sky became yellow.  The Chief looked up and said, "You cannot be the sun Chicken Hawk, you make the weather look bad."

A few girls giggled at the picture playing in their heads.  Buck smiled and continued.

"Next, Woodpecker said, "I will be the sun."  But...when he went up the world was reddish like the flames of  red fire.  "You cannot be the sun," said the Chief.  "The day looks too red."

"Now Coyote came forward.  He wore a beautiful orange and yellow coat; his eyes were red like two burning coals, so he said, "I will be the sun."  The next morning Coyote went up.  When he started the day began to be hot.  At noon it was very hot.  Shade was made but the shade was always hot.  The children were put into the river, but even the water was hot.  Some of the animals hid under stones.  Ermine had the tip of his tail burnt.  Mountain goat went into a cave and stayed white.  The animals that didn't hide scorched their backs, so their stomachs are always paler now.  Look at the deer and rabbits and you'll see it's true.  At last night fell and Coyote came back and the Chief shook his head and told him, "You cannot be the sun.  You are too hot."

Rachel had found a resting place against a bare spot on the opposite wall.  Buck had told them several stories but never this one.  It seemed as if it were a part of his childhood that he now willed to share, not hiding it any longer as he usually did.  Some places were indeed magical.  A faint smile slowly appeared as he kept telling the tale.  She watched intently at how his animated gestures added to the words he put forth and along with those, there was an enthusiasm that bubbled from inside him.  Her heart was glad to see it.

Buck for his part relived those brief moments of happiness, seeing the face of his beautiful mother as her mouth moved to the words he now spoke.  Her dark, ebony hair hung down to one side of her face, tickling his cheeks as he lay on the buffalo hide, a boy, his mother and a bedtime story.  Those were memories he carried dear and close to his heart, shielding the outside world, protecting them in order for them not to be ripped from him as his mother would be one day.

"Coyote was very disappointed because he thought he was the best sun.  Now among all the animals there were two Lynx brothers.  The elder was bigger.  He said, "I will be the sun."  He went up.  In the morning the air was coolish.  He went up higher and the day always felt comfortable.  At noon it became warm, but the shade was cool and the water was not hot.  In the evening Lynx came down.  "You can be the sun," said the Kutenai Chief. " 

"Coyote was jealous.  He took his bow and arrow to the place where the sun comes up.  He aimed at the sun.  But Lynx saw Coyote and burned his arrow.  It burned quickly and Coyote threw it away." 

The small schoolhouse was silent.  Only when Buck told his stories was the room ever so silent.

"...Finally all was decided.  Lynx should be the sun, and his younger brother should be the moon.  The next time you look up to the sky and feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, remember the face of the Lynx for he is always looking down on you."

At the conclusion, Rachel led the way with applause and her children dutifully followed.  Buck felt a feel-good sense of satisfaction.  He remembered it word for word, just the way it had been told to him and one day he would tell his sons and daughters.  Today, he shared it with them.

A solitary hand slowly emerged from the sea of children.  "Is that story true?  I mean, the way the sun came to be?  I don't think Father Preston would think it true.  They never taught us that in Sunday school," Amanda made quick note.

"Yeah...we ne'er heard that 'fore." added a little one.

"My people have many different tales about our Mother Earth and how things came to be.  It is what we believe.  Father Preston teaches you that God made the earth in seven days.  Is that story true?" he asked.  He knew some basics about Christian beliefs being taught them years ago when stranded in that hell of an orphanage.  Most he tucked away as future refence but none could replace his sacred beliefs no matter how much they tried to pound them in his head.  Those he held near and dear.  They were the positive links to who he really was.

There was no direct answer to his question.  Only puzzled looks and half-shrugs were offered instead.  Rachel took quick action.  They weren't here to discuss their religions but to find acceptance for all differences.

"And that's the beauty of learning about each other children.  We get a bigger picture of someone else's way of life, their traditions, their way of thinking and a whole new world opens up before our very eyes.  We should celebrate those differences boys and girls.  It's the only thing that separates us from the animals outside.  We have to get to know and love our neighbors and no matter what you believe, that fact will always be true."

"You mean like the Good Samaritan?" asked Charlie.

"Yes.  It doesn't matter what a person is on the outside, it's what they are inside that really counts.  And that is how true friendships are made."

If there was ever a moment of reflection that donned on a schoolhouse and its inhabitants this was the moment.  It felt as if a calmness, a spirit of realization and appreciation had covered the individuals within the four walls.  Big hearts and small hearts were slowly opening, like a budding flower in the early spring.  Prejudices were an ugly truth but acceptance was the counterpart of that ugliness.  Opening one's mind to his fellow man, wether colored or not, was the best salve there was to heal old, unyielding wounds even the ones once thought could never be healed.