The sentry

52

Marisol Rivera Angel Eyes Father Art was doing better except for the fever. The color had cleared from his urine, but a low-grade fever remained. Not so bad, only a degree or so, but it hung on like bad debts, leaving him weak. Marisol was worried, so she came early and stayed late, and tried as best she could to keep Angel Eyes open.

That morning when she arrived, well before the counselors or kids, Marisol found a blue nylon bag on the ground beside the front door.

That the bag would be here was odd, but more odd was the card pinned to the bag. It was a simple white index card bearing her name.

She looked around to see if anyone was watching, like maybe someone playing a joke to see what she would do, but she saw no one.

She brought the bag inside and put it on her desk. The bag had a hefty, bulky weight, maybe eight or ten pounds, like it might be filled with chocolate.

Father Art called from the back.

"Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. Who else?"

"Don't come back here. I'm on the toilet."

"Finish your business. Call when you're ready."

Marisol went behind her desk, studied the bag, then pushed her suspicion aside and opened it. The first thing she saw was another white card. The note on this card was simple.

Someone is watching.