"Needless to say, Father Griffin and I bonded instantly."
"You became friends," Carl says.
"As much as you can become friends with a priest."
"Your father was a priest, you mentioned. Anglican?"
"Low church. He didn't have time for what he often referred to as the popish absurdities of St. James. He also knew, and thoroughly disapproved of , Father Griffin. In fact, he warned me to stay away from him."
"Did you know Robert back then?"
"Better than you'd like to know.
"What happened?"
"It would have been my form of teenage rebellion. Other kids turned to drugs and hard partying, I turned to Anglo Catholicism. I would have been seventeen when I started attending. Dad did not approve."
"It sounds like there is a story there."
"Words spoken by a true journalist", say I.
"I hope you're not worried that you are going to end up the subject of a future article of mine."
"Would you like to put that in writing?"
"You are witty, you know", Carl says, not exactly smiling.
"I think Carol called it droll."
"Quaint. But do continue..."
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