| Scene | Too Darn Stubborn |
|---|---|
| Characters | Charlotte Mercy |
| Place | Grimwood Church |
| Date | July 18, Afternoon |
| Scene Theme |
There was an indian attack, and the Mercy got stiched, refusing to get her 'bed rest', she decided to interogate the lone surviving injun, and THEN brought him to the cheyenne, who are at peace with Grimwood at the moment. Just now returning, walking with a slight limp, mostly because it was a hard ride, and she didnt have any strapping young lads to give her any aid, not that she would ever ask for it. Entering the church and setting her saddle bag down, she takes a look arond and does a catholic cross in front of her chest.
The only other soul in the church at the moment is Charlotte, who emerges from the side room that is used as a makeshift schoolhouse carrying a stack of small chalkboards. The children use them to practice their letters and their numbers rather than gathering them all at larger board, allowing Charlotte to check their progress individually. School, though, has already let out, leaving the young woman to clean up and ensure everything is ready for tomorrow. She comes to a halt on seeing Mercy, surprisedat firstby another presence. "Oh, Sister Mercy," she says aloud, both announcing herself and with a hint that the surprise hasn't edged away. She glances at the saddle. "Did you just get back from somewhere Sister? Shouldn't you be restin'?"
Mercy blinks and looks over at charlotte, a small smile at seeing the woman throw herself into her work, it does mercy's heart good to see such. "Yes, I went to deliver a message to the cheyenne, they agreed to try and get the Navajo to stop sending war parties this way." She says as she steps further in. "To much to do dear, I can't afford to rest, if I rest, who will help with the mass, and who will clean the church, and who will keep an eye on all the unsavory types." She says before she places her hands on the back of a pew, and actualy shows some sort of weakness by catching her breath, her shoulder hunched as she lets out a long, tired, and weary sigh.
Charlotte approaches at a slow pace, winding her way through some of the pews to reach the center aisle. She doesn't go directly to Mercy, leaving quite the comfortable distance between them. Perhaps maybe too much to be comfortable, in fact. "There's me for cleanin' the church and men for helpin' with the mess, and Marshal Slade is doin' his best, Sister." She doesn't plead for anything in particular, but the edge of concern in her voice can't be denied. "God says that He helps those who help themselves, Sister. How can you help with anythin' if you tear your stitches and end up weaker'n you are now? I don't mean to pry or be bothersome.." Charlotte sighs. "My Momma was a stubborn type. Never took no for an answer and never let anythin' get in her way. But sometimes you gotta give, Sister. Sometimes takin' a moment to catch your breath allows you to have more of 'em down the line."
Mercy lets out a sigh, another long one. "All that is well and good, and, to be honest, if that was it, life would be easy." She says as she looks ot the closed church doors. "There is someone comming to Grimwood that I wanted to stay as far away from here as possible." She says with a sigh. "But I can;t stop her, the one person who should heed my warnings is as stubborn as her mother." She says as she pushes herself off the pews.
"I don't think that would make life easy, Sister," the young woman says. Confusion registers, though, when Mercy begins talking about someone. Charlotte's gaze follows hers to the doors, as if expecting someone to walk through on that statement alone. Her gaze flicks back, inquisitive expression still in place. If there are any dots to connect, she hasn't linked them together. "Who, Sister?" Charlotte sets the boards down in the pew in front of her and dusts her hands of chalk. It's a futile effort, given she'll need to repeat the process just as soon as she picks them up again. For now, though, it seems she'll be here for at least a few more minutes.
Mercy looks up at charlotte and gives a soft smile. "When I was young, very young, even before I was allowed to take my vows as a sister, I had a child… she was sent to another orphanage… I would have kept her, but I would have had to leave the church. I made my choice, and not a day goes by that I dont think what if… and NOW that what if is comming here, into a dangerous place… if anything happens to her.. I dont know what I would do."
The rapid blinking that spans a first few seconds details just how dumbstruck Charlotte is by such a revelation. A dozen different questions flood through her head, each one exactly none of her business. Her lips part and she draws in a deep breath, as if to give voice to one of these. It pauses, though, and either after considering it would be most wise not to or simply being unable to find one to ask, she slowly exhales. She does, however, see opportunity. "I reckon you'll just have to rest up to make sure that you're in the best of health to ensure nothin' does. I can take care of the chores 'round here, Sister. You've had my help often enough to know I don't spend my time thinkin' fanciful thoughts. 'Sides," Charlotte injects some happiness into her voice. "Aren't you just a little bit excited?" She knows nothing of how things work for Catholics, and it's an ignorance that leaves her mystified as to why it would be ill-advised that Mercy spends time with her daughter. A baptist girl like her is used to women in the church having children, up to and including the Pastor's wife. "You're a strong woman, Sister. I figure you don't reckon much of me out here on the frontier, what with my faintin' spell an' all, but there's no doubt in my mind that the best place for your daughter might be by your side." There's a hint of sadness with the smile on her face.
Mercy lets out a sigh and looks to charlotte. "The fainting is to be expected, a 'propper' woman doesnt handle such things as guns, though, if you wish, I can teach you to fire one, in the event some drunk or savage tries to get at the young'uns." She says. "Abd by my side is the last place I want her, I'm a lure for danger and death Miss charlotte. I'd rather she stay out east where it's safe, but then again, she is my daughter, and probably as stubborn as well." She says, looking to charlotte. "Thankyou, by the way, for the help… if I didnt know any better, I'd suggest that you become a sister as well."
Charlotte nods in response to Mercy's dismissal of what happened, but that nod is followed by what's most certainly a pained look. "You think someone would try to hurt the children?" Distraught doesn't quite cover what her mood shifts to in the face of such a horrific suggestion, and she's glad that Mercy gives her something else to focus on. Or try to, at least. It's hard to conquer a fear once it takes root and gets its claws dug in deep. "It's my pleasure, Sister. You helped me when I got here. It's the least I could do." She grows more solemn at the mention of being a Sister. And more shy, perhaps? There's a flush of heat in her cheeks as she lowers her voice. "I don't think they'd want a baptist for a nun, Sister. 'Sides," she clears her throat lightly and looks down to where her fingers fiddle with one another. "I'd like children of my own someday."
Mercy chuckles. "That's why I dont suggest it, besides, you'd make a good mother." She says, and as for the fear for the children. "People are crazy, especially when drink is involved. Knowing how to shoot would deffinately detern most of the problems that would happen, simply having a shotgun in your hand is enough, and on those occasions you would have to fire, you know how." She says as she walks over to the alter where her backup, leaver shotgun is at. "I'd rather be a warrior in a garden, then a gardener in a war." She says as she walks over to charlotte and drops the gun in the woman;s hands. "This, is what won america, this is what feeds us here in the wild, and keeps us safe. A gun is a tool, it's the person pulling the trigger what decides if it used for right or wrong."
The brightest smile ever seen from the young woman lights up her face now when she lifts her gaze to Mercy. The Sister's words about being a good mother make her shift lightly in place, as if the happiness itself is so suffused through her that she can barely stand still. She smooths the front of her skirt out, and quickly nods her head, trying to tame the emotion. "Thank you, Sister. That means an awful lot to me." As usual, though, there comes a measure of reminder that where they are is dangerous. Charlotte remains where she is when Mercy trails up to the altar. When the woman returns, holding out the gun, Charlotte is quick to put her hands up and wave it off for the moment. "Oh, no, Sister, I don't think I could. Not right yet." A hand settles on her waist, as if over her stomach. "I'm not sleepin' too well after.." She doesn't need to finish, she thinks. But it is all a little too fresh in her head to allow such an idea to easily sink in.
Mercy blinks and looks at Charlotte, and THEN to the gun in her hand, and concocts a devious mean plan. "Oh, but I can't rest knowing that you would be in danger and unable to defend yourself, I guess I'l have to forgot rest until you are ready to learn to shoot propperly." She says with a well placed sigh… evil nun, but her reasoning is in the right place. "also warm milk and a few passages will help you sleep some as well."
Immediately, Charlotte frowns. There may be some things she's outright dense and ignorant about, but this clearly isn't one of them. "Shame on you, Sister." It tries to pack convinction into it, but it's not hard to tell that Charlotte has never chastised someone older than her in her life. It almost falls off completely at the end, as if she can barely give rise to the words. "I may not know much, but I do know you shouldn't be manipulatin' people like that." There's heat in her cheeks again, but it has nothing to do with embarrassment. Having said her piece, Charlotte reaches for the boards she'd set on the pew. With them in hand, she straightens. She half-turns, ready to walk off right then, but pauses. For a long moment, she doesn't say anything. "I never want any harm to come to those children. I'd take any pain for them in a heartbeat. I ain't perfect," Charlotte seems to lose some of the control of what's usually a calculated vocabulary. "God knows I ain't. But I don't deserve bein' tricked into anythin'." Mercy can see the raw hurt on Charlotte's face. "I need to get back to my chores, Sister. Have a blessed day." Whatever heat was in her voice is gone for sincerity. Despite the hurt, she truly wishes the woman good will. She turns, then, and begins to head for outside, where she can clean the boards of their chalk without leaving it on the floor of the church.
Mercy watches as the woman heads twoards the door, at least that little outburst is a start, in mercy;s oppinion, but as the tall sister heads towards her cell, a small room off the side hallway, she says. "Charlotte, whatever you are running from, you can't run forever, you have a good heart, and a right mind, but that wont stop a bulle,t and if you take that bullet, then who will stop then next one?" She says as the side door then closes as the sister heads to sleep, trying, reguardless of how restless said sleep will be.