And I owe Dandy.
It’s hard not to see this occurrence as fate intervening.I guess one can never really outrun their past, which is why I know one day I’ll pay for my sins.
But today isn’t that day.
Flat Planes may be uneventful, but it’s rich with communal spirit.And whenever the orphanage holds events, it seems as if the community goes above and beyond.
Tonight is no exception.
The orphanage is hosting a small market on the main street in town, the same street where Kit’s garage is located.I’m here to help raise money, so thoughts of Kit are on the back burner for now.
The sisters are busy behind their stalls, ensuring everything is ready for the mad rush of locals eager to taste the freshly baked pastries or purchase homemade jewelry and knickknacks.All money from the stalls will go toward the orphanage and preparation for All Saints’ Day, since the orphanage runs solely off donations.
So days like today are important.
The orphanage relies on community support to offer a home to children in need.This is why the locals dig deep.
I’m in charge of the sideshow games.
The games include the ring toss, laughing clowns, hit the bucket, and my personal favorite, the dunk tank.
On this warm summer night, Father Justin, the “dunkee,” won’t mind being dropped into the water tank.Even if it was a cold, freezing night, Father Justin would do it with a smile.The kids and the orphanage are his life.
Flat Planes is a wonderful place to raise children and grow old.That is, if one can overlook the gruesome deaths on their doorsteps.
Speaking of…
I’ve not seen Jupiter, which isn’t unusual.
She’s not one to engage in anything community-based.She likes to blend into the shadows, which is why I’m extra vigilant.
The police are present, trying to blend in without drawing attention to the fact that a serial killer is at large.However, they realize Jupiter is too clever to make her move in a public setting.
“I hope you’ve gone easy on an old man and filled that with warm water,” says Father Justin, interrupting my thoughts.
I chuckle in response.“Old my left foot.I heard the choir only yesterday comment on how ‘hip’ you are.”
Father Justin places a hand playfully over his heart.“Bless.”
Father Justin is anything but old.At a guess, I’d say he is in his mid-forties.He’s attractive, if one can say that about a priest.It’s apparent that the congregation also thinks this, as many women haven’t shied away from flirting with Father Justin.
Flattered by their advances, he makes it clear that his faith is his first and only love.I admire him for that.Having strong convictions leads to a simpler, less complicated life.Perhaps I could take a page out of his book, because my life is currently a shit show.
Father Justin wears board shorts and a T-shirt.It’s strange to see him out of “uniform.”Women begin to gather, watching with humor as he sits on the collapsible bench above the water tank.
Soon, a crowd of enthusiastic townsfolk gather, all looking forward to dunking their cherished father.They’re given three balls for five dollars, which is a steal, and given the length of the line, I suspect Father Justin will be drenched come nightfall.
Martina Greene, a devoted churchgoer, and her daughter, Helen, are first in line.They pay me ten dollars.I pass them their six balls and stand back, unable to hide my smile.
The church has hired a DJ who appropriately plays “Waterfalls”by TLC.
Helen is first up.She aims and misses.
Father Justin looks relieved.
The crowd eggs her on while Father Justin crosses his fingers jokingly, in hopes she misses again.
She does.
