Father Kaveatz stood at the window of his rectory bedroom, staring out across the yard through his weathered Galilean binoculars. He smiled knowingly at the cloud of dirt far in the distance.

“They’ll be men yet,” he sighed, elbowing me in the ribs. I shook my head, but couldn’t hold back a smirk.

“A little bit of the devil in all-of-em,” I said. “Boys…”

“They say times change, but it’s only the weather.” said Father Kaveatz. He grabbed a high ball glass of scotch with his meaty hands, wiping the glass’s perspiration on the front of his tight, black cassock. A quick swig smoothed the crease of tension from his tan forehead and he stared down at his dining room table. He unwrapped a small stack of letters, pulled his silver letter opener from the top desk drawer, and sat down. He made quick work of the envelopes then patted down his pockets.

“Can’t read a damn thing without my glasses.”

I watched his dark eyes closely for a moment or two. And all while, I twirled the rosary in my habit pocket, testing my strength by resisting the strong urge to scratch the itch underneath my rayon apostolnik.

“May I?” I asked, reaching toward the binoculars. He nodded and I carefully positioned them in front of my bifocals. My skinny, wrinkled fingers struggled to control a tremor. Still, I saw Craig Simmons, Damon Jones, and little Michael Stenson. Their faces were twisted and barely audible screams reached my old ears. But the action moved too fast. A bit dizzy, I set the binoculars down on Father’s desk.

“Such violence,” I mumbled. “After all this time, can’t we find a better…”

“We’re all animals,” he said as he took a long slug. He sucked down a wet breath, exhaled fragrantly, and stared out the window again.

“Sister, the sooner they realize…the sooner they’ll be ready.”

I watched him watching for what must have been five minutes. The smooth rosary beads felt cold against my aching fingers. I must have been in communication with the Holy Spirit, because I don’t remember thinking a single thought. Once back in focus, I pulled Father’s eyeglasses from the third drawer down and placed them on top of his desk. He was still deep in thought as I exited the room.