Third Half by P. R. Garlick

heard a Priest speak so boldly, and she felt her cheeks growing warm.  Then she remembered some things her brother had told her during the short time he had studied for the priesthood.
                  "Father, don't you think we should be on our way?"
                  "Yes, Sister."  His eyes seemed to lose some of their brightness.  "I'm sorry if I've offended you."
                  "No, Father.  Just surprised me."
                  "You can rest assured.  My ways may seem strange, but my devotion is just as strong as any others."  Liane thought she noted a certain strength and sincerity in this man's voice. 
                  "You see, my parish was very close to the beach in California.  In fact, as a youth, I spent much of my time there.  I'm a pretty good surfer."
                  She could picture this young man with sun-streaked blond curls, balancing perilously on a surfboard atop a white foaming wave.
                  "I knew there were many kids out there with problems, " he continued.  "You aren't going to reach those kids with a prim stanched attitude.  They want a friend, not a preacher."
                  "I can understand that," Liane replied with honestly, remembering how difficult it had been to confide in the priest who had paid frequent visits to their orphanage.
                  "To them, I'm not Father Barndt.  I'm Luke.  They seem to relate to me better that way.  As long as I can be there to help them, the name isn't important."
                  "The end justifies the means," she said with a smile, her green eyes looking up at him with understanding.
                  "I see you do understand."  He seemed relieved.
                  Liane was beginning to feel that her wish had been granted.  Luke seemed just unorthodox enough to be the type of man who would go along with her request to stay in Lima an extra day.
                  "Father . . .I was curious to know if we have an exact schedule to meet.  Are we expected at the mission right away?"
                  His pleasant smile grew wider as he scratched his head, releasing a curl that had been carefully combed into place.  "Ah, let me see . . ." He pretended to be thinking.  "I suppose there would be no problem."  Now he looked down at her with an impish grin.
                  "Actually, I had intended that we would stay over tonight, and tomorrow too," he said.  And after that we'd get an early flight on the Aeroperu to Pucallpa.  I've made many friends while living here in Lima.  Whenever I get the chance to return to the city I try to visit with them. 
                  "There's one special couple, Paul and Carla Smith.  When they heard I was going to be in the city, and the reason, they invited us to stay with them."
                  "Smith?" Liane repeated.  "That doesn't sound very Peruvian."
                  "Paul is a geologist with a mining company down here.  He came to Peru three years ago and met Carla.  She's a Creole, from an old Spanish family who's more than likely been in Peru since the conquest.  They married and have lived in Lima every since."
                  "How have you found the time to meet so many people if you're supposed to be at the mission for your penance?"
                  "Everyone gets a reprieve every now and then."  Luke laughed.  "Besides, I already knew Paul.  We were classmates.  It was purely coincidence that we met again here.  We ran into each other at the church of San Francisco.  I supposed being native Californians, we were drawn there for the obvious reason.  But we returned there for very different ones."
                  "And those are?"
                  "Come," he guided her toward the long corridor. "People will begin wondering why