Glory Be

Epilogue: He Found a Key for Every Door

In retrospect, if the sheriff hadn't been distracted with Falcon, they might not have been able to escape. In retrospect, if Isaiah hadn't insisted on helping the outlaw, maybe their secret could've outlasted them. In retrospect, they had nearly gotten off scotch free till Sydney decided to lend a helping hand. In retrospect, if Isaiah had been able to control his expression, his brother wouldn't have had gone after him, or maybe he still would have. In retrospect, maybe if they hadn't kissed that one last time, then maybe, just maybe, the damage would've been minimal.

There were just too many ifs and buts to sort through them all. Even with all the time the two had on horseback going who knows where. Sydney was trying to head west, that's all he knew. Squinting desperately at the horizon for some sort of sign. Isaiah held Sydney's side tightly. As if his grip ever loosened, he'd lose Sydney too.

Hours passed, and the sun moved across the sky. Sunny slowed to a trot, and their travel turned monotonous, but now without the roar of wind, they could speak.

"Sydney," Isaiah asked.

Sydney looked back at him with reddened eyes.

"Do you need to rest? Sunny may need it too," He suggested.

"That... That sounds like a good idea," Sydney said.

Sydney pulled Sunny to a stop near a small pond. He slid off the horse first. When his feet hit the ground, the positional aches in his legs hit him with great intensity.

"Ouch," He groaned, and rubbed his legs.

Isaiah's lips dared a smile from on top of Sunny. He pulled his leg over and sat side saddle.

"Are you okay?" He asked and slid off of Sunny next.

Then the sensation hit him, and he tensed up, and grasped at his legs. Sunny let out a hysterical neigh as she trotted over to the water.

"It's not pleasant," Sydney said, patting Isaiah on the back.

"No, not it's not." Isaiah said, before the two softly chuckled, "Let's walk around and stretch."

"Alright," Sydney said, rubbing his eyes.

The two walked around the pond, hand-in-hand. Native flowers and bushes bloomed up around the body of water. Sydney stepped up onto a rock and looked into the water.

"I can see some fish in there I think," He said, "Small ones like sunnys."

Isaiah bent over and tried to catch a look at the fleeting orange scales underneath the surface.

"Should we try and catch one? We could make a fire and eat it," He suggested.

"We don't got a fishing rod though," Sydney said.

Isaiah shrugged and showed off his open palms and fingers.

"We got hands," Isaiah said, "Worth a try I guess."

Sydney laughed, and crouched down, "Yeah let's do it," He said, tugging up his trousers and kicking off his shoes. Isaiah did the same and the two waddled into the pond. The two attempted to be still and quiet. Letting the fish get comfortable and close to them. There were several failed attempts. Once, Sydney lost his balance and crashed into the water, scaring all the fish for a long while.

Isaiah left the pond and dried off on the grass. Petting Sunny and feeding her some grass from his hands. Sydney was still determined, and Isaiah loved that look at on his face.

"I'll try and make that fire okay? Just promise to catch something," He said, grabbing Sydney's survival guide out of his pack.

"Got it." Sydney guaranteed.

He then moved to perching up on a rock. Watching the water like a grizzly bear or a hawk. How much time was passing, the two boys didn't know, but they didn't run on that schedule anymore. They just needed to eat something other than preserves. Sydney's eyes locked onto a slowly moving orange fish. He bit down on his lips for maximum concentration and snatched the fish out of the water.

"Isaiah! Look!" He exclaimed, nearly losing the fish in the process. He restated his grip and ran back up onto the land.

Isaiah was perched over his own labor of love. A collection of twigs of varying circumference. He placed rocks around the wood. Making a safe and controlled environment for the fire. Now he just had to do the fire part. The book said to make a spark with some timber, rubbing it against each other. He had been working at it for... Too long now, his hands growing exhausted.

"You got one!" Isaiah grinned, rising up from his post.

"Yeah! I bet I could get another too," Sydney said placing the fish down on a flat rock, "How's the fire going?"

"Not good, I can't get the wood to spark," Isaiah frowned.

"Hm, let me give it a try."

Sydney briefly referenced the book, then began looking around at the rocks surrounding the fire. He'd pick them up, then put them down.

"What are you doing?" Isaiah asked.

"Looking for flint, if we're lucky... Yes!" Sydney raised up the stone, "This and my knife, it'll make a spark. Watch."

Isaiah got on his knees and watched intently. Sydney unhooked his knife from his belt and ran it against the rock. Orange sparks flew then died out. The boys' eyes grew with excited.

"Do it again!" Isaiah grinned.

Sydney created the sparks again and again, till some of the browned grass within the wood caught flame. Within the minute, engulfing the tower of twigs. The two leaned back with a glorious look.

"You did it," Isaiah smiled.

Sydney smiled back and grabbed Isaiah's hand.

"I think we'll be okay," Sydney said.

"I think so too," Isaiah agreed, "As long as we're not too stupid."

"Us? Never," Sydney harshly joked, but they both laughed anyways.

"God-willing." Isaiah chuckled.

. . .

The rest of the journey took nearly two months—longer than it should have. The two scavenged for food, hunted for fish, and even took refuge in a church for a night. They were now filled with stories as the fall weather began to truly set in. Sydney's face filled with rugged facial hair, and Isaiah kept his bible on him at all times. They had found it to be a good excuse for their pairing. A traveling missionary and a man who knew the land.

Though now, there was an answer in the distance. Sydney and Isaiah dropped off their horse, breathless and relieved. The shadows of the Rocky Mountain's towered in the distance. Cresting the sky. The peaks, blessed with snow. It was better than anything they had ever read or wrote.

"I feel born again." Sydney finally spoke.

Isaiah squeezed his hand and rested his head on Sydney's shoulder and took in the sights.