PINK SLIP FOR AN ALTAR BOY - By Daniel J. Demers

My cousin "Buddy" Castle and I were enjoying a couple of beers at the Bullpen in Guerneville. Buddy and his family have maintained their cottage in Camp Meeker for over sixty-five years. On average he spends three days a week in Camp Meeker and the remainder in San Francisco. Anyway, about the third beer, Buddy made the following confession.

He started it with a question, "You know how you can tell when someone is watching you? You know how you get that feeling?"

I nodded affirmatively. Buddy continued, "I was lying under the votive candle holder at Epiphany Church (San Francisco) using a dime to unscrew a little plate under the coin box-I had figured it out the previous week-you see once you loosened that screw the plate would move aside and with a wire you could scoop out a nickel or a dime. I needed fifteen cents in addition to the dime I had to go to the movies."

He digressed, "Boy, in those days twenty five cents would get you into the movies and buy you a veritable gourmet feast-popcorn and a coke." He smacked his lips like he had just finished the meal. Buddy is 71 now.

"Anyway, that's when I got that feeling and looked up at black shoes and the hem of a black robe."

"Arthur, what are you doing down there?" the black robe asked.

"Whenever anybody called me Arthur, I knew I was in trouble." He said.

Buddy said he looked up and saw Father O'Keefe looking down at him.

He stood up and sputtered, "Oh Father. I needed fifteen cents to go to the movies-I was going to put it back as soon as I got my allowance," he said with a red face-his little heart pounding in his chest. It was a bold-faced lie.

Father O'Keefe responded in his Irish brogue, "Well, I didn't hear a knock on my door…?"

"Knock on your door?" inquired Buddy.

"You didn't ask me to lend you fifteen cents."