Chapter 27—Father Ignacio
November 1935, Italy
Father Ignacio turned over in his bunk to frown at his stateroom door, wondering who was in the passageway making such a noise at this hour. He took a deep breath to yell at whoever was out there when a young voice called out to him. “Father Ignacio?”
Sigh. “Yes, what is it?”
“Father Ignacio, the Captain sends his compliments and asks that you please report to the port quarterdeck.”
His ears perked up in the lonely silence. The squeaking and banging of a ship underway was gone. The stale, lingering smell of puke was still prevalent though, evidence of his first time at sea in over two years. “Have we made port?”
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