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to God. There’s something of him in your features, in your

eyes. Of course, I mean when you were younger, as I

imagine you. He was still young then too. A lot older than

me, but I was no more than a kid back then. It was only my

second building site, and I worked on the first one less than

a year. When you lift your head a bit that way it’s like I was

looking at him. Stop shelling a moment. When your hands

stop moving your face is clearer. Now I’m not so sure.

Maybe a little.

Why Priest? He’d trained to be a priest, spent three years in

seminary, but he gave it up. That he never told me. But he

kept his surplice and stole, and his Bible, he had them in a

separate little suitcase that he kept locked. Though on a

building site like that, who wouldn’t open another person’s

suitcase and take a look inside? Especially one that was

locked. Before he went to sleep he’d always kneel by his bed

and pray for a long time. He never missed Sunday Mass. So

it was all the more of a temptation to open the suitcase.

Work on the building site often continued on a Sunday,

especially if it was running behind, but he always had to go

to Mass.

Of course he got into trouble, he was written up, they

docked his bonuses. At the worksite meetings they claimed

it was because of people like him that the building was

behind schedule. That there were too many believers on the

site, and he was an example to them. Though he was no

exception. All kinds of people worked on building sites in