to do what he could to fix them. It was going to take time, and money. And it had to be done before the festival started tomorrow.
Gloomily he got to his feet, stashed the rest of the clubs safely into the tent, wrapped the broken pieces in a cloth and put them into his juggling bag. He was supposed to go teach Debbie and Linette soon, but he would have to get this club fixed first. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed into town dejectedly.
I should have been paying more careful attention to my juggling, he chastised himself as he jogged along. Guess I have too much on my mind.
While he was making some progress on the logistics of being an invisible bodyguard during the girls’ midnight escapades, he felt he wasn’t making very much progress towards his final goal. Maybe Debbie and Linette were beginning to trust him, but he was sure that Rachel disliked him and the other girls barely registered his existence when he was at the Durham house during the day. He wasn’t sure that Melanie and Sallie’s other daughters didn’t think he was some kind of pagan.
Eventually, Paul found the hardware store and went inside.
“Can I help you?” a cheerful older blond lady whose nametag read “Dolo” asked as soon as he walked in.
“Uh—sure. I need to repair these,” he said, pulling the clubs out of his bag.
Dolo examined the clubs with a professional eye. “Some wood glue will do the trick,” she said. “And some clamps. Aisles 2 and 5.”
The wood glue wasn’t much, but the clamps he needed to fix the club turned out to be expensive. With a sinking heart, he shelled out more of his food money to pay for them.
As Dolo rang up his bill, she remarked, “Night job getting you down?”
He looked at her, a bit startled. “Sort of,” he said cautiously, fingering his miraculous medal.
She chuckled. “You just really look tired. If you don’t mind me asking, are you Catholic?”
“Trying to be,” he said.
She grinned back. “Have you been to the church on Plain Street?” she jerked a finger behind her. “It’s not far from here. Sure beats hitchhiking into Baltimore if you’re looking for a daily Mass.”
“Really? I’ll check it out!” Shouldering his juggling clubs, he added, “Thanks!”
“No problem, kid: keep the faith.”
As he exited the hardware store, he checked the clock on the bank and saw he was late for his lessons with Debbie and Linette. At least I’m becoming friends with them. He raised his pace to a jog. Maybe if I just continue to be open and friendly with them it will influence their older sisters. To save time getting to the Durhams’ house, he cut through the development off of Plain Street.
In the meantime, I just have to make sure none of them get hurt, he thought . Man, now I feel like I’m juggling those girls on a high-wire. He suddenly felt cold in his chest remembering the club he had so recently dropped. What if you drop one of the girls? And there’s no safety net? They could get hurt. Damaged. Permanently.
Paul halted, panting, wondering if he had been foolish to get so involved with this situation.
He realized that he had stopped in front of a large brick building whose pedestrian shape made it look like an office building. But a sign on the front said: OUR LADY SEAT OF WISDOM ROMAN CATHOLIC MISSION. Just where Dolo had said it would be. And the sign said there was a morning Mass here three times a week.
Dropping to his knees, he prayed with more intensity than he usually did.
Help me not to drop them. Any of them.
Then he got to his feet, crossed himself, turned, and started running again.
Apparently God still saw fit to answer some of Rachel’s prayers—if it was God who answered them—because the next night, Pete showed up driving a trim blue boat. Pete had told Miriam a couple nights ago that he was seriously considering buying a used boat, and it turned out that his parents had helped him buy this one. Pete’s
Gloomily he got to his feet, stashed the rest of the clubs safely into the tent, wrapped the broken pieces in a cloth and put them into his juggling bag. He was supposed to go teach Debbie and Linette soon, but he would have to get this club fixed first. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and headed into town dejectedly.
I should have been paying more careful attention to my juggling, he chastised himself as he jogged along. Guess I have too much on my mind.
While he was making some progress on the logistics of being an invisible bodyguard during the girls’ midnight escapades, he felt he wasn’t making very much progress towards his final goal. Maybe Debbie and Linette were beginning to trust him, but he was sure that Rachel disliked him and the other girls barely registered his existence when he was at the Durham house during the day. He wasn’t sure that Melanie and Sallie’s other daughters didn’t think he was some kind of pagan.
Eventually, Paul found the hardware store and went inside.
“Can I help you?” a cheerful older blond lady whose nametag read “Dolo” asked as soon as he walked in.
“Uh—sure. I need to repair these,” he said, pulling the clubs out of his bag.
Dolo examined the clubs with a professional eye. “Some wood glue will do the trick,” she said. “And some clamps. Aisles 2 and 5.”
The wood glue wasn’t much, but the clamps he needed to fix the club turned out to be expensive. With a sinking heart, he shelled out more of his food money to pay for them.
As Dolo rang up his bill, she remarked, “Night job getting you down?”
He looked at her, a bit startled. “Sort of,” he said cautiously, fingering his miraculous medal.
She chuckled. “You just really look tired. If you don’t mind me asking, are you Catholic?”
“Trying to be,” he said.
She grinned back. “Have you been to the church on Plain Street?” she jerked a finger behind her. “It’s not far from here. Sure beats hitchhiking into Baltimore if you’re looking for a daily Mass.”
“Really? I’ll check it out!” Shouldering his juggling clubs, he added, “Thanks!”
“No problem, kid: keep the faith.”
As he exited the hardware store, he checked the clock on the bank and saw he was late for his lessons with Debbie and Linette. At least I’m becoming friends with them. He raised his pace to a jog. Maybe if I just continue to be open and friendly with them it will influence their older sisters. To save time getting to the Durhams’ house, he cut through the development off of Plain Street.
In the meantime, I just have to make sure none of them get hurt, he thought . Man, now I feel like I’m juggling those girls on a high-wire. He suddenly felt cold in his chest remembering the club he had so recently dropped. What if you drop one of the girls? And there’s no safety net? They could get hurt. Damaged. Permanently.
Paul halted, panting, wondering if he had been foolish to get so involved with this situation.
He realized that he had stopped in front of a large brick building whose pedestrian shape made it look like an office building. But a sign on the front said: OUR LADY SEAT OF WISDOM ROMAN CATHOLIC MISSION. Just where Dolo had said it would be. And the sign said there was a morning Mass here three times a week.
Dropping to his knees, he prayed with more intensity than he usually did.
Help me not to drop them. Any of them.
Then he got to his feet, crossed himself, turned, and started running again.
Apparently God still saw fit to answer some of Rachel’s prayers—if it was God who answered them—because the next night, Pete showed up driving a trim blue boat. Pete had told Miriam a couple nights ago that he was seriously considering buying a used boat, and it turned out that his parents had helped him buy this one. Pete’s
Similar Books
