His mind was wandering from the psalm in his breviary, yet again. Morning sunlight streamed through the rectory windows as Phineas O'Day sat in his easy chair, thinking about a young man who was very dear to him. Jamie S'chn T'gai had always been such a fine lad. Throughout his teens, he had faithfully served as an altar boy here at Our Lady of Victory Parish, where Phineas mentored him in the faith. Occasionally Phineas had even visited Jamie at Plum Creek, the home he shared with his father and stepmother in a little Vulcan enclave. Yanashites, they were called—followers of the Vulcan savior who had created a great stir on their home planet. The revolutionary "Shiav" had even drawn the attention of the Holy Father himself, Pope Augustine.

It was interesting to have the Earth-based seminary of the controversial religion nearby. Living as Jamie did in the midst of so many Yanashites, and being so Vulcan in appearance, one might have expected him to go their way, but instead he remained staunchly Catholic like his late mother. The boy had a mind of his own and sound values, yet like so many other young people, he had taken a wrong turn while away at Purdue. A drug party resulted in a pregnant young lady, but by the grace of God everything ended well enough. This past summer, Phineas had been pleased to join them in Holy Matrimony.

Yes, it had seemed as if that unfortunate chapter was ended…until the donations began to arrive. Jamie always gave a bit of money to the Church, but these contributions were different. The monetary amounts had so astonished Phineas that he phoned Jamie about it. The young man, usually so open, only shook his head and claimed that he was sworn to secrecy "for a good cause". Secrecy? For a good cause? Those words did not sit at all well with the priest. In his experience, secrecy usually covered some shameful misdeed, and he had seen large donations used to ease a troubled conscience.

As Phineas set aside his breviary, he came to a decision. It was high time for another visit to Plum Creek. Didn't the spirit of ecumenism demand that he maintain friendly relations with those of other faiths? Spock and T'Naisa were a nice couple, and now that Phineas was officially retired from parish duties (with a lovely title, "pastor emeritus") he could tramp about the countryside whenever it pleased him.

Donning a Roman collar, he fired up his decrepit Roadmaster sedan and sent it soaring. He thoroughly enjoyed the drive. This time of year, the mountains of Idaho were especially beautiful, with bold splashes of red and yellow tucked among the evergreens. Letting the car pilot itself, he rolled down the window and felt the cool breeze riffling his wispy white hair. At times it seemed that he could almost smell the ocean; after all, it was closer since the breakup of the Pacific Coast.

As Plum Creek neared, he assumed the controls and drove up to the secluded Yanashite complex. The seminary/temple building with its adjacent skimmer pad loomed large at the forest's edge, but Phineas parked near the rustic cabin that served as Spock and T'Naisa's home. A face appeared in a window. The front door burst open, and out ran their daughter Tess, wearing ruffle-trimmed overalls. She was a pretty child in a Vulcan sort of way, but her mind lagged behind her physical development, except when it came to the piano. She had only to hear a composition played once, then she could sit down and imitate it perfectly.

"Father O'Day, Father O'Day!" she shouted happily.

By the time Phineas reached the wide wooden porch, T'Naisa was also there to greet him. God had endowed the halfling with breathtaking beauty and a pleasing humanlike personality.

"Good morning, Father," she said, tossing a length of wavy hair as fiery as any Irishwoman's. "What brings you to Plum Creek?"

Returning her bright smile, he told her, "And do I need an excuse to visit my good neighbors?"

She invited him inside and turned down the heat so he would feel comfortable.

"Have a seat," she said. "Spock is over teaching our new seminarian. Just one for now, but we're hoping for another soon."

Tess came up beside Phineas and tugged at his hand. "Come on, I want to show you something…" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Something outside."

"Maybe later," T'Naisa told her daughter.

Tess settled with a doll on the floor, eagerly waiting. Phineas winked at her and she was grinning back when T'Naisa offered him coffee, which he gladly accepted.

Cup in hand, he casually asked, "Have you heard from Jamie and that new wife of his?"

T'Naisa warmed to the subject and spent a full ten minutes going on about how wonderfully the young couple and their son Cody were doing.

"So they've taken a house," he mused. "That must cost them dearly—rent on top of all their school and living expenses. They're working, I assume."

T'Naisa went very still. After an awkward moment she replied, "Jamie hasn't really talked about work…"

Phineas felt a great sadness gathering in his heart and nodded. "Well, then. He's been selling his horses, is that it?"

"He sold Phantom to the Kirks."

"Ah, yes. The white one that Jim purchased for his daughter Tru. Must have brought Jamie a fine price."

Again, she was slow to answer. "Actually…it ended up being more of an exchange for pasturing and stud privileges. It's worked out fine for Jamie."

Phineas absently stirred his coffee. No job…no apparent income. He knew for a fact that Jamie's wife Anika was not wealthy, and even if Jamie's parents were supporting them, he would never hand over large sums of their money to the Church. The only other possibility was not pleasant to consider, but if Jamie had set his foot back on the wrong path, his parents had a right to know. But how to tell them? He settled upon a story from his own family in Ireland.

"T'Naisa," he began, "I'm a bit worried about Jamie, and I'll tell you why. It's like this. Back home, my sister Kate married into the O'Donnells of County Clare. The O'Donnells are a scrappy lot and she bore three children that were hard to control. But the fourth one, the baby, was an especially good boy—that is, until he left home and fell in with the wrong crowd. Suddenly he had money—lots of it—which was strange, since he had no visible signs of income. But you see, he had discovered that a clever fellow needn't work at a job to make money. There were items that could be bought and sold at great profit—items on the black market—Romulan ale, for instance…or drugs."

T'Naisa's soulful brown eyes widened. "Father, you can't be thinking that our Jamie…"

He sighed. "Frankly dear, I don't know what to think. You see, he's begun sending money to the parish…a great deal of money…and we both know there are…unsavory products on campus. He would know how to find them…he's found them before."

T'Naisa's delicate face was quite pale. Silently she picked up her cup and took a few sips.

Tess noticed the lapse in conversation. "Now?" she begged Phineas. "Can we go outside now?"

He shifted in his chair. Poor T'Naisa; she clearly loved the boy as if he were her own. "In a bit," he told Tess before addressing her mother. "T'Naisa, I'm sorry if I've upset you, but the money…it's just more than anyone can account for…and Jamie won't tell me how he got it."

Remarkably controlled, she met his eyes and quietly said, "I understand, Father. I can see why you're concerned, but believe me, Jamie can be trusted. I know for a fact that he's not doing anything underhanded."

"For a fact?" Phineas waited for some further explanation, but she had nothing more to add. Feeling dissatisfied and embarrassed, he rose. "Well, then, in that case…"

Tess leaped up and pulled at his hand. "Now? Can you come with me now?"

"Oh Tessie," T'Naisa complained.

Though his heart was heavy, Phineas chucked Tess under the chin. "Alright, young lady, where is this surprise of yours?"

Tess cast her mother an imploring glance. "Outside. Oh, can I, Mommy? Just him and me—alone?"

"Alright, but you know the rules. Stay in the clearing. We don't want to lose Father O'Day, do we?"

Happily Tess led him out into the sunshine, to a corral where a sleepy burro stood beside T'Naisa's Appaloosa.

"Is this what you want to show me?" he asked.

"No," she whispered. "You'll see. It's a nest. Maybe they already hatched."

So it was birds, then. "Tessie, it's a bit late in the year for hatchlings…"

Out behind the stable, she stopped by a hollow tree trunk. Reaching inside, she carefully brought out a genuine little bird nest made from twigs and dried grass. Within it lay four misshapen lumps.

Phineas bent down and peered closer. "Why, those aren't eggs."

"Yes, they are!" Tess insisted. "When I found the first one, Daddy took it. He doesn't know about these. I found them later. I put them in the nest so they can hatch into pretty birds. You won't tell, will you?"

Eyebrows puckering, he picked one up and held it in the palm of his hand. It felt as cold and heavy as lead, but with a mellow golden cast. "Eggs, you say..."

"Uh-huh. They were right over there." She pointed southward. "In the creek."

In the creek? Suddenly it all became clear. "Glory be," he exclaimed with a joyous surge of relief. Like pointy-eared leprechauns they were, sitting here on their pot of gold. And Jamie—what a fine boy to keep a level head about him and even remember the Church.

Placing the nugget back into its nest, he patted Tess on her auburn head. "Your secret is safe with me, little one, but you'd better not show this to anybody else…aside from your mother and father."

Tess promised.

Back at the porch, T'Naisa awaited them with a worried expression. Phineas thanked her for the coffee and said, "I'll be heading off now…but I want you to know that I feel much better about Jamie. You're right, of course. I'm sure he can be trusted. Say hello to that husband of yours, will you?"

T'Naisa broke into a lovely smile. "Oh, I will! I'm so glad you stopped by."

Phineas chuckled to himself as he got behind the wheel of his Roadmaster. The hover-car rose into the air. As he drove off, he could see young Tessie in the rear-view mirror, waving and waving.

oooOOooo