Epilogue

"Ah, Rogelio. Welcome, welcome," the padre said, standing up to shake his hand.

"Father Estefan," Rogelio said. "It's good to be here."

"Well, we're certainly happy to have you," he replied. "It's rare these days to find a young man such as yourself who wants to enter the priesthood."

"I couldn't think of doing anything else," Rogelio smiled through tight lips. "It's almost as if it's my destiny."

"God has a plan for all of us," the priest agreed.

Father Estefan walked Rogelio through the small church, showing him the anteroom, the sanctuary and its altar, the priests' cloister, and finally going outside to the small graveyard. Rogelio's eyes were drawn to a fairly new headstone there, tucked away in a corner of the yard: GARRISON.

"You seem a little preoccupied," the priest observed.

"I'm sorry, Father," Rogelio replied. "It's all just so new and different."

"Well, you don't have to take it all in at once." He clapped Rogelio on the shoulder. "You've got until next Sunday to get used to it. But today, I understand, you're moving to a new home."

"Yes. I got lucky," he said. "The paperwork came through the same day I got this job. And it's just down the street."

"Congratulations are in order," he said. "Montevideo is a nice neighborhood. Nice homes, very low crime rate, and quiet too."

"Yes, I'm sure I'll enjoy it," he smiled. "It sure beats a shack."

Father Estefan laughed and slapped Rogelio on the back. "I'll bet it does," he said. "Look, like I said, you don't need to jump right into the job right now. Go ahead and get settled in your new home."

"Thank you, Father Estefan. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

"And thank you, Father Valderrama," he replied. He waved and went back into the church.

Rogelio stopped at the marketplace and purchased a taco and an Hola Cola. Sipping his drink, he walked down the hill toward his new home. He took a moment to pause outside the door, taking it all in. Spying an empty frame, he fished in his pocket and came out with the new brass plaque, which he slid into place. He traced the letters with his finger: R. VALDERRAMA.

He turned the knob, and the door opened with a creak.

THE END