Voting: Fic Prompt Part 2
Voting For: Fic Prompt Part 2
Voting Closes: Friday, August 3, 9 pm EST
Further specifications:
Vote for your favorite entry using the poll underneath all the entries. Do not vote for yourself. If you submitted an entry to the challenge, you must vote, or else you will lose one vote cast toward your entry.
Points: 10 points for voting
1.
Title: Josiah's Way
Rating: PG
Prompt: 9. Take it with a grain of salt.
Josiah's learned to take everything in life with a grain of salt. He doesn't believe in anything any more except that there's some omnipotent force watching over him and laughing at his futile, human efforts to etch out a miserable existence. He used to believe that that force was a caring, loving God, but that was way back when he was a little boy. It was before he saw what his father, a supposed man of God, would become when turning too deeply into his bottles. It was before he felt the sting of his hands upon him and before he watched, helplessly, as his sister was all but destroyed. Her innocence and faith were taken from her, and when he lost Hannah, Josiah finished losing his own faith in there being any one up there in the great skies who loved him.
He soon came to realize that nobody gave a damn about them. He couldn't get help for Hannah or for himself. No matter where he preached or how good he was to the people, they always turned against him when he asked for help. Eventually, Josiah laid down the Bible and picked up a gun, but although he was freed from his father, he still couldn't free Hannah.
Time moved on, and with it, he had no choice but to also move. He became older, wiser, and more hardened. He realized there was nothing he could do to truly help Hannah and had to let it alone. He tried to escape their fates. He really did, but neither at the end of a gun's barrel nor at the bottom of countless whiskey bottles could he find an escape that would last for long. After every fight, and every time he became sober, Josiah found himself again and was reminded harshly of both what a failure he had become and how messed up his family was.
He traveled the world. He sinned, and he saved both lives and souls. Before long, there wasn't any sin with which he did not possess a familiarity. He saw things that most people didn't believe existed, leading him to believe in the impossible, but again and again, he found horrors throughout the world and more reasons not to believe in a God who cared. He saw innocents suffer. He saw animals be slaughtered for the "prize" of their dead body parts. He witnessed women being raped and children being slaughtered, and all the while, he was reminded of his Hannah.
He saw a few miracles; he even worked a couple, saving lives and stopping villains whom nobody else thought could be defeated or saved. He brushed up against death and walked away the victor, even when he tried hard not to. But in every woman, he saw either his mother or Hannah. In every girl child, he saw his sister, and in every boy, he saw another lad who would grow up being kicked around by the world until they became as cynical and doubtful as he.
Yet, still, there was a voice who would speak to him from time to time when Josiah was lost in the whiskey and wine. He thought himself crazy when he sobered up, but somewhere along the way, he began to search for that voice. He began to seek for it to tell him what to do with his life and how he could right the wrongs he encountered. He did a lot of soul saving and played the hero many times, but still, his own soul remained dark and full of doubt.
He couldn't believe in a God who would let children suffer. He couldn't understand why any caring, omnipotent power would let innocent people endure tortures or die from hunger and thirst. He couldn't comprehend a love that would allow for spouses or parents to beat those cherished lives placed into their protection. He couldn't understand how a man who claimed to walk with God could beat his wife and children and still be called a man of God.
The Preacher was smarter than most people he met and almost all who he knew. Yet, he still had questions that plagued him every moment of every day. He still sought the answers in the wrong places, often turning to the wrong spirits, as he liked to call them, sometimes to avoid the right spirits and sometimes simply because the burdens he carried were just too much for him to bear. He had so many close calls with death that even he lost track of the number, but still, his life remained the same. Still, he couldn't rescue Hannah, couldn't restore her sanity, and couldn't save himself.
Somewhere in his journeys, Josiah found himself out in the desert in a place no sane man would dare call home. He didn't have a home -- he hadn't since he'd seen his father lay his hands on his sister --, but he did settle there for a while. He stayed there while trying to find a sign, any sign that would solve his life's burdens.
He thought that out here, at least, he could be alone, away from all other humans and their treacherous ways. Perhaps in the quiet, he could hear God's voice while he still had some hold on what little sanity he had left and maybe finally reach an understanding. Even here, however, he was not to be alone for long.
A man came, a black doctor who claimed not to be a doctor, a man who saved lives while saying he wasn't a savior. Josiah tried to ignore him, but the man kept coming. Then, one morning, he awoke to a different sign. He awoke to death birds circling over his head and calling his name. It wasn't very long after that that the man, whose name he'd learned, without wanting to, was Nathan, came again and offered him an impossible mission.
Josiah had wanted to die for years, so he took Nathan up on the task of protecting an Indian village with just a few men and a little ammunition against an entire army. It was a mission from which none of them expected to walk away from alive, but as he told Nathan, that day was as good as any other to die. He'd sought death, but he'd never wanted to die a coward's death. He didn't want the world to know that he was a coward who couldn't save his own sister, no matter how little they cared. He wanted to die fighting for a good cause, one that would perhaps stand a chance of weighing more heavily on the scales of Justice than allowing his father to destroy his sister would.
Only, somehow, he managed not to die again. The men around him wouldn't let him die. Nathan, especially, was there beside him throughout the journey, lifting him up and caring for him when Josiah had thought no one else would. He saved his life, and at last, Josiah had a different thought. Maybe the birds weren't the sign he'd been looking for all along. The Good Book said God fed Elijah with crows, so they weren't always harbingers of death.
Perhaps the sign, instead, had been Nathan all along and the men to whom he would eventually bring him. Maybe this was what he'd been searching for his entire life. Maybe with this gang of men, almost all of whom had as questionable pasts as his own, Josiah would finally get his second chance. Maybe now, he'd find a family who loved him as well as his balance. Maybe now he could find some form of peace as well as perhaps still help his sister. Maybe this was where his life had been leading all along.
Josiah didn't know for certain, but he did know two things. He finally had something more to believe in greater than a grain of salt. These men upheld their word, had earned his trust, and saved his life. He could believe in them. He also learned that God is watching, and whereas He might not always give us the help we think we need, He does care, is mysterious in His ways, and has a wicked sense of humor as He watches us pick ourselves up again and again until we finally get it right. Josiah smiled as he showed Nathan that he had regained his balance and secretly hoped that, this time, he would have it right.
The End
2.
Prompt: #8 Where there's a will, there's a relative.
THE IN
Kurt Romani was, despite his name, as Anglo as they came. But he was also one of the most dangerous drug traffickers and gun runners in the Denver area.
He came to Team Seven's attention via a tip from Maude Standish - of all people - who had come to town to find out why one of her society friends was suddenly not answering her phone calls or letters.
When she found him in the morgue, she contacted her son and gave him everything that her friend had collected on Romani. Which didn't amount to much.
Romani was a major player, but he was a new one. And that made him doubly dangerous, as he was not only doing his business, but he was arranging accidents for his competition.
Team Seven was going over the material for the third or fourth time, trying to find any chink in Romani's armour, but the man had covered his tracks too well. They were starting to feel bruised from running into so many brick walls.
JD sent the file skittering toward the middle of the table. “Man, this keeps up, I'm gonna be as brain-dead as Romani's brother!”
Ezra suddenly raised his head from his own clasped hands. “.....what did you say?”
“That I'm gonna be brain-dead if--”
“No, Romani's brother.” Ezra sat up straight and grabbed the file. He skimmed it and suddenly gold flashed as he began to grin.
“I know that look,” Vin said. “What did you find?”
“A way in,” Ezra said. “His brother passed last month - the reading of the will is in two weeks.”
“I'm not following,” JD said, even as Buck and Josiah began to chuckle and even Chris cracked a small smile.
Vin's eyes widened and he began to grin. “I get it.”
“Fill the rest of us in?” Nathan asked, frowning deeply.
“Simple, Mister Jackson,” Ezra said, tapping the folder. “The will is being read. And where there's a will - there's a relative.”
“They tend to come out of the woodwork,” Josiah told JD as Nathan began to nod. “And that could be Ezra's 'in' to get to Romani.”
That will was never fully read. Romani recognised Ezra for a fed halfway through and drew a gun.
The IA investigation that followed determined that Ezra had had no choice. To protect the others in the reading and to save his own life, he had had to take Romani's.
3.
Prompt: 12 Oldest trick in the book.
The Oldest Trick
“And here all this time, I figured you wrote the book, as the saying goes. Guess I was wrong.” Chris leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk on his face.
“Yup, I never thought I’d see the day,” said Vin with a grin. “Your mama’s never gonna let you hear the end of it.”
“Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, I would appreciate it if we could finally change the course of this tiresome conversation to some other subject, any other subject. And, kindly, do not mention my mother in regards to this topic. Ever.” Ezra slapped the deck of playing cards against the tabletop to emphasize his point. He had long since given up on his game of Solitaire.
“You know, I could’ve understood it if it had been some pretty gal. But, damn, that mousy little old man with glasses drooping down his nose!” Buck barked out a laugh. “That’s downright humiliating.”
J.D. and Nathan joined in the round of laughter that followed.
“It’s hard not to see a certain cosmic irony in the situation, brother” rumbled Josiah, as he gave the gambler a consoling pat on the shoulder.
“And, once again, while my unfortunate encounter with that…that…slippery old weasel has obviously served as the source of interminable amusement for y’all, I would appreciate it if we could now move on to something else,” snapped the gambler.
“Guess you’ve mellowed some, Ezra. Don’t think you would’ve fallen for something like that a couple of years ago,” said Nathan with a smile, clearly ignoring his friend’s pointed suggestion.
“Aw, heck, any of us would’ve done the same thing,” added J.D. “Why, if some old gent stumbles and falls right into you, any of us would’ve picked him up and dusted him off, helped him get on the stage. I mean, who would’ve thought that nice old man was a thief? He had such an honest face and way about him. Reminded me of ol’ Doc Murphy who took care of my mama back in Boston. He was a real fine man.”
Chris poured a little more whiskey into his glass and then topped off Ezra’s as well. “Too bad you stopped hiding your money in your boot,” said Chris, a gleam in his hazel eyes as Ezra winced at the comment.
“I should’ve secreted my winnings immediately, a grievous error on my part, one I fully intend never to repeat.”
Vin scratched at the stubble on his chin. “That wily old coot must’ve been watching you all the time he was in town. Probably didn’t need those itty bitty eyeglasses of his at all. Got the lay o’ the land, knew you had more cash than all the rest of us put together. Must’ve planned it so he could get on that stage and be long gone before you even knew what happened. Now, how would you say it, Ez? His timing was…im..impeccable,” declared Vin, his grin widening.
Ezra rolled his eyes. Apparently, Vin’s memory was as good as his eyesight. “I am gratified that your vocabulary has benefited from our association, Mister Tanner,” he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm though it did nothing to suppress the additional round of guffaws and chuckles from his friends.
“I suppose you could try and catch up to him, get your money back,” offered Chris. But then he shook his head. “Of course, he could be anywhere by now. Might be on a train to St. Louis or maybe headed down to Mexico, or San Francisco…” His voice trailed off as he smothered a smile.
“Traveling first class, too, I bet,” chimed in Buck, waggling his eyebrows at the gambler. “With your money.”
Ezra looked up at the ceiling, a pained look on his face. “Oh, the ignominy of it all. I, Ezra P. Standish, a victim of such simple, age-old chicanery.”
“Someone pretending to bump into you and then picking your pocket, yup, that’s a classic. ‘To have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a cutpurse,’” intoned Josiah. As several blank expressions turned his way, the ex-preacher continued, “It’s a quote from Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale, brothers. I was reading it just last night. Cutpurses, that’s what’s they used to call pickpockets.”
“Huh, how about that? Learn something new every day,” said J.D. as he raised his mug of milk towards Josiah in salute.
“Well, looks like Ezra here has learned a new lesson himself today, haven’t you?” Chris sipped at his whiskey as he glanced around the table at the other peacekeepers.
The gambler gave his friends a rueful smile and a shrug. “On the contrary. I have been reminded of something very old…the oldest trick in the book.”
--End--
4.
Prompt: 8 Where there's a will there's a relative
Warnings: none other than I don't know what this is
Vin Tanner shifted from one foot to the other, nervously clutching the large manila envelope he carried. There was a shift in the darkness beyond the door and after another moment the window lit up and the heavy door opened.
“Mister Tanner, do come in. What brings you to my door on a Monday evening? I haven’t forgotten a meeting, have I?” Vin almost grinned at the closest Ezra Standish got to babbling.
‘No Ez, I was just hoping I could talk to you about something.” Vin took a moment to notice that the usually impeccably dressed man had stripped himself of his work-day jacket and tie, rolled his sleeves halfway up his forearms and donned a blue and white striped apron. “Shoot Ez, you’re making dinner ain’t ya. Sorry, I didn’t even think of that. I’ll come back later. Or tomorrow, I should’a waited ‘til tomorrow. I’ll see ya Ez.”
Ezra raised his hand, stopping the Texan before he used his entire days’ allotment of words.
‘Nonsense Mister Tanner,” Ezra moved through to the living room gesturing for Vin to follow him. “Clearly whatever has brought you here is important, and I have enough to share if you would like to stay for dinner.”
The two men would have politely danced around each other for the rest of the evening if the oven timer hadn’t pinged softly from the kitchen.
“That settles it Mister Tanner, you are staying for dinner.”
They ate mostly in silence, with a little small talk from the office and if Ezra noticed Vins’ eyes flicking to the plain brown envelope every few minutes, like he was checking it hadn’t disappeared, he didn’t comment.
After dinner Vin had insisted on helping with the dishes and general kitchen tidy that he knew was part of Ezra’s routine. And if Ezra recognised this for the stalling tactic it was, again he didn’t comment.
“Well Mister Tanner, unless you would like to start on my windows perhaps we can talk about what brought you here?”
Vin opened the envelope and slid the papers out onto the coffee table, Ezra recognised the letterhead of one of the larger law firms in the city.
“I got this yesterday. I don’t know what to do with it. This man, Michael Jasper, he died last week. Now I have letters from his lawyers sayin’ I’m in his will, sayin’ he’s left me a share for his land. Sayin’, sayin’ he’s my father.”
“Your..?” Ezra watched his friend pace the length of his living room. “I thought your father was dead Vin?”
“So did I. Momma never talked about him, no matter how much I asked. Then after she, after she died and I was stayin’ with my Grandpa he told me that the man was dead and that I should stop askin’. So I did. Why would he say that? Why wouldn’t he tell me? All this time I’ve had family, real family, and they kept it from me. They left me thinkin’ I was alone. They left me alone when I was just a kid and I didn’t have to be. I coulda... and where was he?! He obviously knew about me,” Ezra sat quietly, letting Vin pace and vent, letting him get out all the thoughts that had been building since the letter and it’s bombshell had arrived.
“This man puts me in his will but never bothers to meet me? He knows I exist and he leaves me to grow up alone in foster homes? What sort of man does that to his own?” Finally it seemed Vin had run out of words, he sank onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands. Ezra silently poured them both a measure of scotch, the occasion certainly called for it.
“What are you going to do?” He eventually asked when the pause had been pregnant long enough to gestate the elephant in the room.
“I don’t know Ez. There’s a meeting at the lawyers next week, I suppose I have to go. Would ya... would you come with me? I don’t wanna have to do this alone”
Poll Fic prompt