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By the time I got John Sr. calmed down, Ricky Esquivel was long gone. The poor policemen were somewhat worse for the wear. We apologized for our clumsiness so many times they almost believed us and stumbled off to report that this covey of lost kids was still lost. I felt sorry for them. They were just doing their job and it was obvious they had seen a bad couple of days.

"I am not clear about your motivations but it seems to me that the little vaudeville skit you just put on has put us all in a bad position. We can ill afford to estrange ourselves from the police force in these troubled times. It does not serve the school or the diocese to create suspicion in their minds. We do not want them questioning our loyalty." His face was almost purple.

I was tired, had a bruise on my shin from the fracas and had no desire to be lectured like a divinity student caught masterbating. I listened for a minute then butted in. "Father William, it seems to me that our first mission in this school is to serve and protect the children. Your actions today make it clear that you are ill equipped to handle that mission. You clearly negotiated in bad faith and have now put at risk the very children this meeting was created to serve. Now, thanks to your imperious little grandstand, we have some kids out there in need of help and we have no way to get to them."

There were murmurs of assent from around the room. The priest was clearly not used to open rebellion. His face was so red he looked like an overripe tomato. "You have no right to talk to me like that." He dissolved into an apoplectic cascade of spurts and coughs while Sisters Alicia and Ruth tried to calm him. I turned to leave with Variety and John as the room broke up into a jumble of individual conversations.