Characters in this post
View character profile for: Alvin O'Connor
View character profile for: Manuel Gonzalez
View character profile for: Jedidiah Dowd
View character profile for: Eleanor Whitman
View character profile for: Father Connor MacCauley
A Voice for the Skies
It was the day of the trial and Eleanor had waited through the night rather anxiously. Father Connor seemed fine as if he were used to this sort of thing. But in a man as young as him, it was unlikely.
After leaving the church, the two walked along the sidewalk talking quietly amongst each other. They'd been given an involvement in the trial for the Gonzalez fellow and were making their way down to the station where he was being held. Connor needed to hear the man's words to God and Ella had business of her own. Yes, it was mornin time, but even then Silverado wasn't as bustling as it usually was. Church had been cancelled for the day. Everyone wanted to hear about a Silver Hand fool being sentenced to death. Maybe the quiet was some odd form of respect for the daunting hours to come.
They walked past the saloon and suddenly the sister fell back in her pace. "You go right ahead, I have something I need to do." With that she turned and ventured off. There was no way she was letting him hang, not for a second.
Connor kept on his way to the cells, and upon approaching the officer standing guard within the station, simply held out his bible and nodded to the fella. "Here to help a man unburden his soul." He gave a look of confirmation before the father entered.
Go in without judgement, help heal. That's what you're here to do. God wouldnt judge those who are worthy of forgiveness. His forgiveness. This outlaw fellow was no different.
Walking down the row of iron cages two people past him, lookin like outlaws themselves. And Dowd was there too.
"Your honor," he spoke as the man past. Dowd didnt react much. "I'll need to speak to the prisoner alone. Also, Sister Eleanor would live a word with the Sheriff. Should be on her way shortly."
The judge obliged and made his way out. Connor looked to Manny.
"Manuel Gonzalez, I presume?" He kindly held his hand out to Manny through the bars. A greeting was a greeting no matter who you were. It being civil. If one could not treat the other with respect, then how could anyone be helped? They couldn't. Was it dangerous? Of course! Did he care? Not for a second. He went to school to do the right thing, and he was still going to do the right thing.
"I'm Father Connor, hearing you out for the Heavens." He gave a gracious smile.