If I had been thinking more clearly, I would have taken a moment and brought up a GPS map of my surroundings so I had at least some idea of where I was going, but the only thing on my mind was “RUN!!!”.

Sigh.... old habits die hard.

I found a fire exit and bolted into the alley behind the store. Fortunately, none of the mob had the notion to stake out the alley behind the store, and by now the surly mob was busy chasing the decoy. I chose a direction at random and poured on the speed. My only thought was putting as much distance as possible between myself and the mob. I ran through streets and neighborhoods, leaving the commercial bazaar district far behind and finally noticed myself running through neighborhoods dense with everyday people.... obviously residential districts... tenements teeming with people going about their lives.... and I quickly realized areas where people did NOT go for runs.... certainly not westerners.... definitely not female westerners..... add to that the fact that I absolutely towered over everyone in these neighborhoods and I was as 'under-the-radar' as a runaway unicorn!

I had ditched my original hostile mob but soon found myself attracting an extraordinary amount of attention simply by how out-of-place I was, running through these densely packed city blocks.

“Out of the frying pan....” the sardonic voice in my head said as I kept running as fast as I could and searched frantically for a new plan.

When I rounded the corner, I instantly saw my answer and thanked my lucky stars. I tore full speed for the front door, hoping it wasn't locked.

When I was growing up, it seemed churches never locked their doors. Recently, it seemed the world had changed and that was no longer a given. Fortunately my moment of dread at the prospect of locked doors was quickly dispelled. I darted inside and instantly realized my demeanour was far too agitated for this serene place. I struggled to quickly damp it down and made my way reverently into the cavernous cathederal. I reflexively dipped my fingers into the holy water and blessed myself, instantly flashing back to being 9 years old attending church with my sunday school class in preparation for our first holy communion. The memory of my crisp white suit was quickly preempted by the sound of my trainers squeaking on the worn, highly polished floor. I wrestled down the conflicting emotions and brought myself back to the here and now. Churches were sanctuaries.... refuges for those seeking safety from the violence and injustice of the secular world.

I knew it was just a matter of time before the crowd following the curious speedy stranger found their way to the church. I could try to argue 'sanctuary' to the mob, but I would much rather enlist the aid of a ….higher authority.....

When I saw the light on the confessional, I understood the unlocked doors on the seemingly deserted church. It was quiet and desolate. I imagined the priest in the booth browsing his kindle.... or maybe catching a nap.

I quietly made my way into the confessional. I tried to do the math on just how long it had been since I made a confession. I chuckled bitterly at the thought that I stopped at about the time I actually began having things to confess.

I heard the partition slide in the near darkness of the confessional and strained to make out the vague silhouette of the priest.

How to play this? I instantly decided to double-down on Katherine-mode.

“....Hi.....” I whispered, instantly confusing the priest behind the screen by instantly veering from the proscribed script. “....I have a confession.....”

He regrouped. “Uh. Yeah. Yes. This is why you're here...” and he began blessing me with the sign of the cross.

“....first.... I have to confess that I'm uh.... not Catholic....” I declared, resolutely in 'Katherine-mode'.

So much for regrouping. Even though I couldn't see it through the screen, I could feel his stare.

“.....I'm uh..... hiding..... I think I'm being chased by a mob and when I saw the church I immediately thought 'sanctuary'....” I said with a nervous laugh.

“What would make you think you're being chased by a....” he stopped abruptly at the loud bang of the front doors being violently wrenched open and the muttering mumble of a large group of people.

“....get off your knees.” He whispered, startling me. I don't know if he could see me or just imagined my bewildered expression. “When you kneel on the pad it triggers an outside light indicating the booth is occupied. Squat.” he whispered.

I mentally slapped myself. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that.

“I think I have a price on my head....” I whispered. “It's complicated.....”

“Sit still..... squat still.” I could hear the grin in his voice. I heard him get up and leave the confessional.

“Hello? …..may I help you?” I heard him call out to the obviously still distant crowd.

“We are looking for a woman. A very tall woman.... in very tight fitting clothing.... someone said she came in here....”

“Even if she did come in here ….and look around.... there is no one here but me... and God... this is a house of God..... take your hunt outside and do not desecrate the sanctity of this sacred place.”

“Don't tell us what to do priest.... this is not our holy place...”

“This is God's house! And there IS no Got but God!!!!!” he exploded. I nearly soiled myself at the surprising ….fury... of his outburst. There was a lonnnng silence..... “Leave this sacred place NOW before I tell your imam about the mob that descended to desecrate a house of God!” he thundered.

All I could hear was the faint shuffling of scores of feet. Eventually the curtain of the confessional drew back and I saw the sillhouette of a short, rotund priest.

“They're gone. You can come out now Ms Keller.” he smiled. He obviously caught my startle, his body began to shake as he chuckled. “It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to figure out who would be fleeing that angry mob.”

“Oh.” I blushed. “I didn't expect you to know.....”

“I read newspapers.... and watch TV.... and go to the movies....” he grinned. “....but don't tell my archbishop about that last part. It's not just the ultra-conservative imams who are offended and incensed.”

I nodded guiltily. “.....it was just a part.... it was never my intention to offend....”

“....and yet you did that dance number with the sheep....” he smiled wickedly. “Well, I believe in a forgiving God..... so it's not my place to judge.” he grinned. He was enjoying needling me and I couldn't really blame him.

“I think you're safe for the moment. But I suspect that crowd will just hang outside for a good long while to see if I was indeed harboring you and waiting for you to leave.”

“Oh, crap.” I muttered, then threw my hands to my mouth in mortification as I felt my face burn.

The priest broke into a grin. “Understandable. And forgivable. But please watch your language in this house of God.”

I nodded contritely.

“We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Father Paul Provenzano. Pastor of Saint Lucia's.” He extended a hand.

“Kath... “ I began to say and blushed “...well, you already figured that out Father Sherlock.” I smiled.

He laughed. “I like that. ….although I think my archbishop would disapprove.” he clucked gleefully. “So what brings you to this corner of our happy island? I thought from all the TV coverage you were sealed in a security bubble?”

I grinned. “You're not that far off.... The major difference between a panic room and a prison cell is which side of the door the key is on. At some point I noticed it was NOT on mine, so I made plans to ….sneak off.... and see the sights.”

“...and how did that go for you?” he grinned with a gleam.

I shrugged. “Not bad at first.... but at some point I think people twigged.”

Father Paul snorted. “Apparently you are the only person who had any notion that you could wander around incognito!” he chortled. “But still... what brings you here.... you're pretty far from the tourist traps....”

I shrugged. “When I thought I had been found out, I set out a diversion and snuck off in the opposite direction as fast as I could.... and I can be pretty fast when properly motivated.” I smirked ….hopefully with humility.

“Well, you are truly deep in the middle of nowhere now.... What's your plan?”

I shrugged. “Didn't think it that far ahead. Just wanted to avoid the mob.”

Father Paul laughed. “Honestly, I have NO idea what they would do if they actually caught you.... and I suspect they don't either. I think they're more like those dogs who chase cars, never imagining what they would do if they actually caught one!”

I smiled politely. “Perhaps.... Still, I'd rather not find out.”

He nodded with a lingering smile. “So. How do you plan to get back to your hotel?”

“I uh.... I hadn't given it much.... any.... thought....” I began to deflate as I heard my own words.

He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Don't worry. We'll sort this out.”

Just then we heard the door again and more murmuring of a large group of people. Father Paul scowled, nodded his head in a direction toward the front of the church “Go down there... there's a small hall to the right just before the altar. Wait for me there.” I did as instructed, glad that my dark running garb made me nearly ninja invisible as I crept along the wall in the dimly lit church.

“Yes? May I help you?”

“Oh, hi padre.... I mean no... you can't... there's no need for you....”

“We're just here to ….pray.” another voice said.

“Anyone for confession?” Father Paul asked. There was a general murmuring and I presume a collective shrug. “Very well. Perhaps later..... I'm headed back to the rectory and will leave you to ….prey.... in peace.”

There was a ragtag muttering of thank yous as the group ….scattered... throughout the church, settling in widely spread out pews, trying to discretely survey the cavernous space for anyone trying to hide in their midst.

When Father Paul rounded the corner to the hall he quickly scooped me up and quietly made his way to the end of the hall, where there was a narrow doorway with a steep spiral staircase. He went first and motioned me to follow. We rose up about a floor and came to a steel cage door with a rather serious looking lock and an even more stern “No Entry” sign. He fumbled for keys and quickly opened it, slowing when it started to squeak and gently opening it the rest of the way, he motioned for me to squeeze by him and re-locked the gated door from behind us. He motioned for me to continue up the stairs. We quickly came upon a small room filled with humming equipment racks and thick cables heading both up and down the walls. I paused at the sight but Father Paul quickly hurried me back up the stairs until we came to another small chamber with alarmingly large horn speakers and screened openings allowing us a 360 degree view of the neighborhood below.

Seeing my bewildered expression, he laughed and whispered. “This used to be the bell tower, but a dozen or so years ago we replaced the old bells with a more ….modern... solution. No worry about the bellman oversleeping or calling in sick.... it's all very high tech.”

“I can see. That's an impressive equipment room” I said quietly nodding down the floor beneath us.

He laughed. “Oh, no. That's what we did with all the freed up space. Mobile phone carriers pay us a tidy sum for this lofty location.” and he pointed to the cables snaking up the wall end through the ceiling above our heads. “So if there's someone you can call, reception should not be a problem.” he grinned.

I peered out through the screen and observed the large, antsy crowd milling about in the streets surrounding the church.

“I think I can get a rescue with little problem, but getting to them may prove tricky.”

Father Paul furrowed his brow. “Let me pray on that problem.... meanwhile, you have someone you can call?”

I nodded and fished the phone out of the pocket on the sleeve of my running jersey.

Dez was not amused and I could tell from the commotion when his conversation was clearly with me that he was in the room with Dennis, Mikey and God knows how many security people.

“Look. Yell at me later. Ground me if you must....” I stifled a smirk “I promise it will work next time... but right now, I just wanted to tell you I'm fine. I'm kind of hiding... and I could sure use a rescue. Could you send a car?”

Dez quickly made arrangements, I shared the GPS location from my phone and was assured that a security detail would be there to rescue me in 15 or 20 minutes. I assured Dez that I was well hidden and would be safe until then. He said he'd call when the car arrived and I told him that I would see it when it got here, since my hiding place had an unobstructed view of the whole area.

I'm not sure if he pieced together just where I was hiding, since my GPS would have clearly indicated the area of the church, and if he used satellite view he couldn't miss the towering steeple.

I reported on my phone call to Father Paul, who still seemed lost in thought …. or maybe it was prayer.

“They'll be here in 15 minutes or so.... any ideas yet on how to get from here to there and through that throng?” I scowled down at the milling mob ...which only seemed to be growing.

He shook his head, then flashed me a beatific smile. “Not yet. …..but have faith.” he grinned and headed back to the stairs. “Wait here. I've given that crowd enough time to poke around everywhere they can think of.... hopefully if any are still here it shouldn't be difficult to persuade them to go back to their homes and families.” He smiled.

“So these are yours?” I smiled. He nodded ruefully. “My Archbishop was none too pleased with your movie either, and while mildly disparaging the price put on your head, he made it clear how people could be offended and offered little defense of the film ….or its stars. ...So while I may be disappointed, I'm not entirely surprised to see my own flock joining in the....”

“Hunt for the harlot?” I snorted bitterly.

He blushed a shy smile. “Not how I would have phrased it... but...” he shrugged with a grin, then quickly regained his composure. “Anyway. They've had ample time to snoop around. Hopefully when I send them home they'll pass the word that you are clearly not here. With any luck that should help disperse the crowd.” And with that, he spun down the stairs.

And I had nothing to do but stare out the window and distract myself with my phone. It didn't take me too long to realize what a wonderful opportunity I had to grab a few selfies with an absolutely spectacular view.

No sooner had I started taking photos of the staggering view than we lost the light. I darted my eyes skyward and thought “OK. I get the message. No selfies.” then grinned at the thought of what I was doing, quickly giving a mental shrug and thinking, 'well, I am in a church.... what better place to have a conversation like this?' So, I did something I hadn't unironically done since I was about twelve. I bowed my head and ….I guess most folks would consider it praying.

I thought with gratitude about my life.... about the series of improbable circumstances that brought me here.... hiding out in a bell-tower... well, a former bell tower that was now a cleverly camouflaged cellphone tower, staring down at an angry mob milling around eager for someone to stone. I thought to myself how I'd made it out of all sorts of improbable fixes, never with a thought beforehand how it would work out, yet it always did. I took a deep breath and tried to reassure myself that all I needed was to ….keep faith.... that it would work out, and when my opportunity came, I would once again recognize and seize it. That thought surprisingly gave me great comfort, and I felt a sense of calm settle even as the skies outside became more dark and menacing.

Father Paul returned up the stairs. “They're gone. There were just a few stubborn stragglers remaining. I scolded them and sent them home.” he smiled. "Any sign of your ride?"

“Not yet.” I grimaced. “I'm sure I'll recognize it when I see it. I'm presuming a large black SUV or such.... these security folks have no imagination.” I forced a breezy grin.

Father Paul nodded and smiled politely. “Well, it's safe to go downstairs now.”

I smiled. “If you don't mind, I'd rather keep a lookout here. I'm hoping to find a hole in the crowd I can thread like a needle when my rescue finally does come.”

“It's getting really dark....” he fretted “...this time of year squalls can come and go out of nowhere... and they can be really....”

He was interrupted by the deafening sound of a sudden hard and violent rain. I looked through the screen and saw the crowd below darting for cover as a torrent of angry rain painfully pelted them. I noticed a pair of headlights as the black SUV, wipers batting furiously and futilely against the violent rain.

“I think my rides here!” I shouted, beaming. I watched it turn onto the road that led to the front of the church where people were still scattering in the street trying to find shelter from the heavy rain.

“Just in time!” He shouted grabbing my elbow... “We really don't want to be...”

I was blinded by the flash and felt like I had been kicked by a horse from the violence and power of the noise. I struggled to regain any of my senses, but they just would not come online. The first thing I regained was my sense of smell.... and I smelled something strong and acrid. Did one of those crazies bomb the church? I kept trying to blink my eyes back to working order. That was a hundred times brighter than any flash I'd ever experienced. Then I noticed the silence. Much as I strained, I couldn't hear a thing. I began to think I could hear the blood coursing through my veins and my rapid heartbeat, but that was it. The repeated tug at my elbow brought me back to earth. Though I could still barely see, I knew Father Paul was still trying to drag me to the staircase. Using the rail for guidance, I fumbled my way down behind him, still feeling quite dazed and ….numb? I don't know just what I was feeling, I just knew it was very, very odd.

By the time we got to the base of the stairs I was beginning to regain my vision. The odor was still strong in my nose. I saw Father Paul grinning as he pulled me through the hallway into the main church. Though my ears were still ringing I could hear him shout in my ear “THAT'S why you do not want to be in a steeple in a thunderstorm!”

“Jesus!” I reflexively exclaimed. Father Paul just grinned. “Maybe.... I'm sure that got rid of the crowd.”

“We could have been killed!” I startled. Father Paul just shook his head with a grin.

“We have the best lightning arrestors anywhere. The phone companies would not let anything happen to their valuable equipment!”

“But that smell!”

“Ozone. Yeah, we were inches from the strike, but it went right by us, down the much more attractive lightning ground.”

He grinned. “The people in the street were in far more danger than we were, just inches from first-rate lightning arrestors.” He hurried me to the door as my senses slowly returned to normal. He cracked the door and peered out to the SUV sitting alone on the rain drenched street. “You should have no trouble threading the needle now.” he smiled. He gave my arm a squeeze. “Go with God Ms Keller.” he smiled.

I think I surprised myself as much as him when I gave Father Paul a tight hug. “Thank you!” I whispered in his ear.

He returned the hug then quickly broke it and gently pushed me to the door. “Thank my boss.” he grinned eyes skyward.

“The cellphone company?” I cocked my head with a grin.

“Get out of here you heathen....” he grinned and gave me a gentle shove to the door.

I darted through the painfully hard rain and quickly made my way to the waiting SUV, eager to be heading back to the safety of my hotel, regardless of what chastisement awaited.