The Priest They Called Him

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People hurried by, gray shadows on a distant wall.

It was getting late and no money to score.

He turned into a side street and the lake wind hit him like a knife.

Cab stop just ahead under a streetlight.

Boy got out with a suitcase. Thin kid in prep school clothes,

familiar face, the Priest told himself, watching from the doorway.

"Remindsme of something a long time ago." The boy, there, with his overcoat

unbuttoned, reaching into his pants pocket for the cab fare.

The cab drove away and turned the corner. The boy went inside

a building. "Hmm, yes, maybe" - the suitcase was there in the doorway.

The boy nowhere in sight. Gone to get the keys, most likely,

have to move fast. He picked up the suitcase and started for the corner.

Made it. Glanced down at the case. It didn't look like the case the boy had,

or any boy would have. The Priest couldn't put his finger on what was so

old about the case. Old and dirty, poor quality leather, and heavy.