Over the next week Gomez worked harder than Mason had anticipated. He took a load off of the aging man’s knees and allowed Mason to spend less time worrying about how fast the apples got off the truck and were replaced in the bins. He felt guilty going on the patrols with the other guys but he was able to stay alert longer as he was getting better sleep. He felt that as long as one illegal was helping to stop many illegals then it might be okay to keep Gomez around longer than he had originally wanted.
Besides, Gomez was very religious with going to the Catholic Church several times during the week, sometimes more than once a day. He was courteous to anyone who spoke to him and he knew enough about the food they were selling to help anyone that needed the help. Mason felt that Gomez was worth the seven an hour but he wished he would have started lower.
Gomez sat in the front pew facing the crucifix. He was watching the woman to his left out of the sides of his eyes casting long looks at her. She seemed not to notice for her head was bowed in prayer. After a minute or two she looked up and saw Gomez watching her. She quickly gathered her things and loped out the door.
Gomez silently looked around. No one. He rose and walked to the door on the right, he checked down the hall both ways, again no one. He noiselessly lumbered down the hall and checked inside each door. He couldn’t find what he was looking for.
Then on the other end of the hall he heard the door open, sunlight as bright as an angel flooded the hall and Gomez slipped into the room he had open and he hid behind a stack of bibles. There were so many bibles in this room, they were still in the plastic except for one column that was about halfway depleted.
Gomez scanned the room. What he was looking for wasn’t in here either.
Father Thompson stood in the doorway a moment, he tried to let his eyes adjust to the darker hallway but he compulsively looked back at the area behind the church to see if anyone was watching him. He didn’t see anyone so he walked into the building.
He walked down the hall to his office past where Gomez was hiding. When he got there he shut the door, a bit harder than he’d intended but he had a phone call to make. He pulled the blinds apart and checked the yard, then he sat down and began to dial that old familiar number.
When Gomez heard the door slam, he rose and walked to the hall. Staying close to the wall he mangled a walking motion to the door at the end.
Outside was brighter than he expected. After his eyes adjusted he spied what he thought he was looking for. Two wooden doors leading underground. They were locked. He kneeled and with his knife that Mr. Mason gave back to him he picked the lock. He swung open one of the doors and went down the steps, five steps down he turned and shut the door. It was too dark to make anything out so he turned and cracked the door enough to see, there was a flashlight hanging from a nail, he grabbed it and shut the door again. At the bottom of the steps he swept the flashlight from right to left and then he saw exactly what he was looking for.
Father Thompson left his office, he leaned against his shut door.
Son of a bitch.
He prayed to himself. Father let this end, let them come, I need this.
He walked to the door leading outside, he wanted to check on the basement again. Soon enough this would all be over. If Maxell will send the trucks, it will all be over.
He shielded his eyes against the sun. His heart stopped and started when he saw the lock on the ground, he picked it up. Scratches. Father Thompson rushed back to his office, he unlocked his desk and removed a loaded glock. He had been through too much already to take this chance.
When outside he grabbed the door handle. He breathed slowly through his nose and opened the door.