Monday, August 26                                   6:12 am

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            Brother John Carbasian woke quietly, in full expectation that his white, Siamese  tom cat Shiloh was going to commence his morning yodel at the top of his lungs because daylight was flooding in through the lengthwise Venetian blinds and he was already on ‘his’ spot on the high backed dresser, with the while slats making an invented ‘V’ over his crouching form. It was 6:12 and he was still silent, but in another three minutes the Enemy would seize the kinked tip of the young tom cat’s tail and start cranking on it till he let out nine or ten distinctive and plaintive yowls at the top of his lungs, and Henry Bates was already mad at them! Threatening to shot the cat on sight if saw it playing behind the rectory, or GOD forbid, if the likable, self-assured young feline ever dared to cross over the fence and land a paw on the old man’s lawn!  It would be an instant death sentence! Nor could he explain the depth of meaning the sleek, arbitrary cat made in his life. At six-foot-five one is expected to ‘suck it up’ and not be so attached to a mere cat that the thought of losing it was like giving up on the will to live. No one else knew he had cancer in addition to the diabetes. It wasn’t in his Nature to question GOD or seek

the pity of others. Vi Dickerson knew about his being a brittle diabetic, she helped to

plan his meals and occasionally picked up his insulin for him, for no one else, not even Al Hoag or his wife Georgiana knew about the cancer, and as long as it stayed in remission, he wanted to keep it that way! 

            “  With a quick “Good morning” and “Thank you, Holy Spirit”, he threw back the sheets on his narrow bed and made a grap for the slick white cat just as the piercing wail began.

            Across the narrow space dividing their windows, Henry Bates’ loosened and rolled up his window shade, without even bothering to lean out on the dusty sill and glare at them like usual. He was probably already up, just waiting for the air raid like siren to begin so he could ‘flash’ them his morning show of ill temper and go get dressed for his Important Job downtown. [Whatever that was. He tended to be a little inarticulate when he was choked with rage and the blood was pounding in his face like a freshly bleeding

Beet pulp!]

            Brother John stroked the gentle cat lovingly. Except for these period needs to vent all of his speech into a single strand of haunting cries, as if torn from the depths of his soul, the rescued [and reluctantly neutered] tom cat was a companion fit for a saint whose sole life was spent in quiet contemplation of the goodness of GOD. The life the six-foot-five giant had vaguely anticipated would be his until the LORD led him to an abandoned church on the edge of the Black district of the Fillmore, and the once again sliding residential area near Golden Gate Park still referred to vaguely as The Haight, even though it had emptied even of its flower children ghosts long years before.

            Though Shiloh clearly thrived on the attention and understood how completely

he was loved, the instant the Lebanese monk put him down to the floor, the cat raced for the door which opened magically just in time to keep him from ramming into it, and he ran down the threadbare carpet to the end of the hall. Thinking that if he couldn’t see the giant man nor his wagging finger demanding silence, then Brother John wouldn’t him resume his morning serenade by the window which overlooked Henry Bates’ kitchen, where the dour faced old man sat, waiting, destroying the cereal flakes in his mouth by the gnashing of his teeth in helpless fury against his fur ball opponent! The only one-albeit thing- to ever prove un-submissive to his iron will! ‘ But while there was breath, there was hope!’  He reminded himself in evil anticipation of his ultimate conquest. It was after all, a mere cat!     

            Brother John gave a weary sigh as he straightened the unadorned bed and knelt

on the rug at the side of the metal springs. They gave off nearly as much cold as the floor now that his body was no longer in it. He gave quiet thanks to the LORD, able to yield his full mind only after several seconds of continued cat-lessness. Once he took the finger stick and used the appropriate amount of Insulin to bring his body chemistry in balance, Shiloh would return to his lax, loving self, spending much of the time on his back, legs sprawled, dreaming such dreams as cats dream when they know how highly they are valued in the natural order of feline relativity. 

            In another quarter hour Vivian would let herself in by the back door. Put a quarter of a can of ‘wet food’ on the plate where Shiloh knew to come get it, then she would soak the dish and put out the dry food that attracted too many ants to be left out overnight. She’d start the laundry and turn up the music loud, to cover the rattle and bang they couldn’t afford to fix this month either, and then at seven o’clock sharp she would start to fix the simple breakfast they shared at seven seventeen. Like his cat Shiloh, she was someone in his world that he could depend on, even when he forget to set his clocks forward or back depending on the season.

            He tried to fix his minds on the prayers in his heart but the worries in his head kept thrusting their heads in the doorway, and before he could shoo them out, they got a full review.

            SHOULD he allow Vi’s house sitter to take in and feed Shiloh for a full six weeks? One look at the eighteen pound Amazonian parrot Mr. Lucky, and he might break the glass in the window simply avoid the now harmless swoop of what would surely appear to a psychedelic Canary on steroids to him! Or the fact that Shiloh’s favorite thing in life, after eating and sleeping with all retained body parts in glorious array, was

chasing and biting into the cast off pigeon feathers twelve year old Stevie collected for him on the way over here from the Ramsey’s. But what was the alternative? All five of the boys had worked their hearts out so they could raise the money to take them to the Holy Land in October!

            ‘  Gee, guys, I don’t want you to think I’m not manly or anything, but I just don’t want to leave my cat alone for six weeks. ‘ 

            That would fly like a lead balloon after all the teasing they got from kids on both sides of the block for being ‘choir boys’ since the main building had once been a prosperous Catholic Church but declined over the last hundred years until the Diocese was willing to rent it to Brother John Caspian to keep from having to destroy a truly historic [if drafty] building. He wished he could talk Diana Gillette out of marrying Ron Eastman, a fellow attorney she’d met in putting together the Coalition. He was too smooth, too slick to be real but the charming woman was in love with him and as blind to his faults as she was to her parrot Mr. Lucky, who now had to live with Vi now because of  Ron’s vague ‘allergies’ to bird mites and those fine, downy hairs that come out from under the slick flight feathers as they groom. Or something!

            The giant Lebanese man bowed his head and rebuked himself without giving the Spirit time to do it, so attuned was he to the world which existed side-by-side in his own, then he found his own humanity rising up in a desperate plea against this return of cancer after nearly eight years of remission! He was older now, his body worn down by the unexplained and unprovoked irregularities of the diabetes! Age! The destruction of ideals!

            “  But no my will be Done, but Thine.  Heaven Father.  “  

            He added startling Shiloh into wakefulness so that the cat lay there motionless on his back , watching his face. It was a command he recognized, but he would have ignored it anyway, he was in a good mood. It had nothing to do with food and didn’t promise a ride in the car. He squeezed his eyes slowly. Not asleep, not pretending to be asleep, but quietly yielding between equals, and it added to the sense of joy and hope surging through the man clothed in the robes of St,. Francis de Assisi.

            “   And good morning to you, sir.  “  

            Brother John coaxed as the cat rolled lazily to his side, watching gain with full intensity. While John Carbasian tooled around in the Spartan bathroom washing, shaving, and doing the reading that waited for off moments like these, the white Siamese carefully attended to his own ‘toilet’ and washing in feline manner of practicality., and about the

time Vi’s car door slammed, another echoed it instinctively and Allen MacKendrie Hoag and his heavily pregnant niece Amanda came in, towering over Vi in her crutches, their arms filled with brown paper bags full of groceries. Amanda kissed Brother John on the lips, but she was already asking Vi where she wanted her to put the bags since there were four more? Al and Brother John clasped hands and embraced, as though they hadn’t seen each other for months rather than days. But such was the depth of affection between them.

            “  Mattie with his grandparents. Al?  “  

            “  No, at his new house. He’s showing us all how grown up he is now at 18.  “

            “  I’m impressed.  “   Brother John said happily, cutting off a chunk of the pineapple circle to share with the younger of the two women as she reached toward him, mouth bared.

            “  At his age I thought I knew everything, Uncle Al!  “    Amanda said possessively, pushing the naturally sweetened tidbit to one side of her mouth so she could talk over it. Then she looked around for Shiloh belatedly, who’d already streaked out the open door. Accepting the inevitable with a pert toss of her long, sleek hair. Though she had kept it short until she got married, it emphasized the exotic Polynesian cast to her face without appearing to be ‘affected’. Her recent confirmation that it was the son she and Tray had so longed for seemed to bring her with unending enthusiasm.

            “  Used to think?  “  The middle aged woman with self-described legs like a piano

demanded archly, hanging her dripping raincoat on the ‘nearly perfect’ wooden coat rack over the forced air vent.

            “  It’s raining?   “   

            Brother John asked in surprise. He was suppose to take Raphael and Stevie fishing this afternoon! Why wasn’t it written into his contact that he’d automatically get sunny days off?  Maybe it would clear up by the time he had to leave the building?  Had he taken the extra insulin ‘hit’ to make up for stealing the luscious looking pineapple rings? 

            Vi walked over to him deliberately and then, pulled off the old fashioned plastic scarf she had to sew new ties too because she was too sentimental to throw away something valuable ‘just because it was slightly less than perfect’. Then she shook her head, showering his arm with pin-pricks of icy droplets.

            “   You think?    “

            She asked, with a straight face. ‘  She’d go to Confession later. A chance to pull a one-liner on him like that was just too great a temptation to pass up!  ‘ 

            What she didn’t see was that his smile was as broad as hers as she walked toward her office, pleased as punch with herself.

*

10:15 am

            Allen MacKendrie Hoag was waiting in his office as Brother John walked in. There was a look of questioning in the quiet Scots man’s eyes that the giant Lebanese minister brushed aside. He was in too much pain today to risk speaking about himself.

            “  Morning, Al.  “

            “  Morning, Padre.  “  There was a slight twist to the words but Brother John fixed his eye on the half-completed cycle of black coffee and grimaced, by way of answer, and warning. he didn’t want to say anything but his prayers till he’d had a morning cup of java, and even those might be a little strained with the Almighty this morning!

            “  Is it lunch yet?  :  He teased, in apology.

            The heavy scarred man just grunted, turning back to the thick manila folder he had been reading when his partner walked in. Then he shook his head and spoke with silence, drawing the grieving man out of himself.

            “  That bad?  Which one?  “

            “ Dietz Schroeder.  “  came the soft, Scots stained accent, with a sigh that

troubled both men.

“  Another blackout? The VA got him?  “

            “  The DA. He woke embracing a dead man, with the bloody knife still in his hand.  “

            The look of placid calm that overwhelmed the six-foot five man’s features warned the weary ex-cop to be still, Brother John was in intimate communication with His God.

The coffee cycle expired but the troubled Scot remained slumped behind his desk, willing the heavy pot to lift itself and come empty into the stained coffee mug waiting in anticipation by his clinched hand.

“  He’s still on a seventy-two hour psych hold at County, right?  “

            “  They’re not going to let this one walk the city streets again, no matter how we speak for him this time, John.    “

            “  Dammit man, he’s only twenty-two years old, Al!   “

            Grim faced the old man shrugged and motioned toward the partially filled mason jar sitting on the edge of the desk. But when the strong willed minister simply leaped to his feet and began to pace in the narrow space between the torn leather couch and the desk, Al reached into his pocket to see if his son had left him any change and dropped a Kennedy half-dollar into the jar. Odds were good, he’d owe the jar at least one before the morning was done!

            Vi Dickerson appeared in the doorway and hesitated before she knocked.

            “  Brother John, you didn’t write down your number, did you take your blood stick this morning?   “

            The dark skinned man stopped and loosed his painful grip on the roots of his hair, a nervous habit he’d almost broken, and looked a little confused. he couldn’t remember, and the air around them seemed a little thick. When the short, plump woman opened the top of a single serving Orange drink, he downed it angrily, but gradually the edge released from his emotions and the oddly repetitive phrase lessened in its importance and he smiled in apology.

            “  Come in for breakfast, as soon as you’re done here, will you boys?  “

            Vi urged, though they were both near her own age. She and Al spoke briefly about president Nixon’s decision to resign, while giving the deeply emotional man seated on the arm of the couch time to gather his own thoughts.

            “   Brother John? Why don’t we talk and eat? Maybe we can coax her intae making us Belgium waffles?   If we tell her how beautiful she is. How talented und how grand?  “

            Vi wrinkled her nose in disgust.

            “  Doesn’t Georgie feed you breakfast before you come to work, Al?  “

            “  No since she went tae work part time a’ the Free Clinic!. I’ve wasted away tae a mere 250 pounds.  “

            “  I can see that!  “   Vi said sharply, pretending not to watch the tall man pale and place his forehead in his hand.

            Al waited in the doorway for a moment, then walked back and placed his hand on brother John’s shoulder.

            “  There’s on’na so much that we can do, then we hae to trust the Big Guy Upstairs, right?  “

            Brother John pushed himself to his feet and smiled apologetically. Although Al Hoag was considered a tall man at five eleven, he seemed to shrink when they were

standing side by side like this. But for the lonely minister at that moment, he couldn’t think of anyplace else he’d rather be! 

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Wednesday, August 28^th                             6:12 am

            This simply didn’t seem the face of a killer, a confused young man, a deeply troubled one, who might leap up out of the chair at any moment and unintentionally do harm! It was at moments like these that tested his faith, even with all that GOD had seen him through personally. This was a young man who’d been a full back on the local high school football team when Honor stepped up and tapped him on the shoulder and the Marine Corp accepted him, broke him down and molded him into a soldier. A man trained to kill. But had he killed now? That was a quest Dietz couldn’t even answer himself and one glance was sufficient to tell Brother John how badly that was eating him up inside!

            They weren’t allowed to touch, even though only a low wooden bar on the flat table separated them, armed with two sensitive microphones, one facing his way and one toward the crumbled, wearied man in the faded denim fatigues. He was so contrite, so sorry for something he assumed he’d done that John was grateful he’d gone to the Catholic diocese

and asked for the rosary blessed by the Pope! Dietz wouldn’t be allowed to have it or touch it, even a pencil lead became a lethal weapon with the special training he’d been given before he went to Viet nam, but the memory would be his, as tangible as the forbidden object itself.

            “  You didn’t do it, Man.  “   He said quietly, under the odd sensation of a sense

of Weight pressing against him. It wasn’t his sugar, or his insulin levels, it was the leading of the Holy Spirit he’d learned as a street urchin in Lebanon long years before

he even knew the Name of its Source.

            Dietrich  Schroeder looked up at him with misery and longing in his eyes.

            “  How can you know that, Johnny? I don’t even know if I did or not!   “

            “  Have I ever lied to you?  “

            “  No... I guess not...  no?  “

            A glimmer of hope flickered in the young warrior’s tortured gaze but it went out as soon as the uniformed guard kicked his chair and motioned for him to follow back to solitary confinement.

            “  If you can’t trust me, trust Him!  “

            Without warning the butt end of a rifle smashed  against the hand reaching for the black rosary beads and for just an instant it was thirty years ago and an armed man was beating him again-but Something, someone, stepped between him and the anger and as the guard went away, he stubbed his sore toe on the chair vacated by the man in chains who glared at him with the full hatred of hell in his eyes! 

            “  Someone who knows he has black outs set him up, Al. Now we have to find out why.  “          

             “  Then  we’ll tackle something easy, like what was the name o’ the mun who shot Kennedy from the hill overlooking the motorcade?   “

            “  That they already know. This we have to find out, Partner.  “

            The heavily scarred man fell in step with him easy despite the difference in their height.

            “  Why do I get nervous when ye call me that, Brother John?   “

            “  Because you’re lazy and that means you’ll have to go to work?  “

            “  Just keeping up wid ye fer one day is work!  “  The Scots man complained bitterly, but the huge grin on his face spoiled the illusion.

            They picked up the two boys, fifteen year old Raphael and twelve year old Stevie who were waiting for them at the bus stop, and drove to Al’s boat in the marina so they could fish and talk in private, unaware of how many men were watching the men who were watching them that they knew about.

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