Luck (almost)

[Patricus I]

NPC ~ Fr. Ando

Not a word from the Archbishop in 18 months, then out of the clear blue sky, strange orders landed in the lap of one Father Revane Ando. In his 90 long years of life, he served many Bishops of Rome, and met several face to face. The current Pontiff was as much a troublemaker as any before, least of which as an American. Revane was old enough to be the Pontiff’s grandfather, if circumstances were different to say.

For two days he toiled over vague orders: not that he personally searched. He was too old to be lumbering up and down the streets these days. One of the parochial vicars conducted the whole affair. Revane was not personally invested enough to do more than answer the call when questions arose, but at least he committed no sin in lying when he told the Archbishop their search had begun. For whatever reason was the Vatican searching for some waif of a girl? Their Holy Father was an odd duck in a strange pond.

Revane was not one to toil among the congregants following mass. He promptly departed the lectern in favor of the vestery where he doffed the heavy garments rounding his already round shoulders. A cup of cold ice water awaited him, from which he drank greedily. He was about to sink into the threadbare cushions of an old sofa when the spritely 52-year-old vicar in search of the girl entered.

“Father Ando, a young, foreign girl has wandered into the sanctuary. She has a wounded hand. Father, I think this may be her,” he said.

Revane grumbled. “You mean to say I have to actually do something with her now?” he asked to hefty nodding. Revane considered if he could delegate this task off to the assistant priest, but then he would be held responsible if the girl wandered away before they could find her.

After a call to the Archbishop whom originally put the search to task, he meandered into the sanctuary, half hoping the girl would have left already. There were a few parishioners remaining. Some were bowed in continued prayer. Others were speaking with church staff about one thing or another. Along the way he was pretty sure he overheard a conversation about the ongoing festival in town.

Revane moved slowly toward Thalia. His face was drawn with the heavy slink of loose skin about his jaw. A head of thin, white hair capped his brow. He was dressed in his regular clothing now, including the tab and collar snug around the neck.
He cleared his throat of phlegm as he came up to her.
“Hello. I am Father Ando. What brings you here?”