Glory Be

Chapter Thirty-Six

The temperature in the hayloft was at a staggering height, which made the fact that Falcon was wearing nearly all of their layers still a bit frightening. They were sitting down on a far bale of hay, ankles crossed, arms crossed, staring over at the boys as they ascended into the room.

"How aren't you melting?" Sydney blurted.

Falcon's eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm not a snowman," Falcon spat back, before tugging their scarf down below their mouth, "So what, talking time right? Then we're getting me out of here?"

"Yup," Sydney frowned as he followed Isaiah.

"If you're up to it," Isaiah said kindly.

"Sure," They said blankly.

Isaiah sat down on top of another bale of hay and left the room to his right. Sydney eyed the spot before sitting down, trying to act casual. Isaiah pulled his bible, then his notebook, from his inner pockets. He placed them by his side and looked up at Falcon with those beautiful brown eyes of his. How wasn't Falcon melting in his presence?

"So, let's do introductions again, how about it?" Isaiah prompted, "I'm Isaiah Merrick, son of Reverend John Merrick. I work with Sydney at the printshop."

Falcon squinted a bit, but Sydney spotted a small smile creeping onto their face.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance."

"I'm Sydney, I guess," Sydney pressed a hand to his forehead, "Sydney Kowal. I'm 21, turning 22 this year. My dad owns the Printshop, so I've worked there my whole life."

"Busy one you are, blondie,"

"Yeah whatever."

"And... You?" Isaiah chewed up his words.

Falcon leaned back on their hands before answering.

"Falcon. That's what they call me."

"You can't provide us with your real name?" Isaiah asked.

"Doesn't matter, being Falcon is real as anything else."

Isaiah just hummed. His hand subconsciously reaching toward his notebook, then to his bible, but he didn't grab either of them.

"Okay, thank you," He said, "How old are you, Falcon?"

Falcon spat out a laugh, like they were about to make fun of something Isaiah said, but eventually their tone died down. Calmly their hands placed onto their knees. Their eyes creased as they smiled.

"48. So not dust yet."

Isaiah chuckled. What was he doing laughing at an outlaw like that. Sydney leaned forward and stretched his legs. Wait. What was he thinking. Stop it, don't be jealous.

"Have you always been involved in..." Isaiah trailed off. He snatched his notebook and began flipping through it, "One second..." He muttered.

Sydney leaned over and looked at the pages. Scattered bible verses, sketches, and scribbles filled his vision. Then his newspaper article. Then some more bible verses.

"When did you become an outlaw?" Isaiah finally just asked.

"I was 25," Falcon answered shortly.

"What did you do before that?"

Falcon's eyes squinted, and they opened their mouth before any words came out.

"I had a family."

This caught Isaiah's attention promptly.

"Really? As in a wife? Kids? Or was it your parents?"