Page 13 of Doyle

Doyle came up to the group. “Everybody having fun?”

“This is groovy music,” said the blonde, swaying a little.

“It’s called soca. It’s local. You must be Elise and Hunter.” He stuck his hand out to the couple, and they shook it.

“I’m Dr. Scott, and this is my wife, Heather,” said the older man as he crouched down to Jamal’s level. “And who is this?” He looked at Jamal.

“I’m Jamal.” He held out his hand, smiled.

“Glad to meet you, Jamal. I’m a dentist. You know what dentists do?”

“Sure. They fix teeph.”

Dr. Scott ruffled his hair, grinned. Stood up. “I heard that Declan got a new orphanage manager,” he said. “Last time we came, the place was in a little disarray.”

Heather put her hand to the side of her mouth. “Riffraff.”

Right.Doyle turned to Elise and Hunter. “Would you like a tour? Jamal and the other kids have painted murals in the chapel.”

“Really? I’d love to see them.” Elise held out her hand to Jamal.

He hesitated and Doyle grabbed his hand instead. “We’ll walk with you.”

Elise nodded, kept her smile, and he wove through the crowd.

Oh good,Anita and Aliyah were chatting with the Roses, a couple from Tennessee, and Taj had introduced Lionel to the Stuckeys, from Texas.

Maybe this would work. At least for a few of the kids.

They headed to the chapel. The place had been a wreck when Doyle arrived, the ceiling beams caved in, the floor chipped, the windows broken, the altar in shambles. He’d debated rebuilding it as a church, but the nuns had long ago rebuilt the monastery church, with the stained-glass windows and domed nave, and the priest from town came up to hold Mass every Sunday.

So this he’d made into an escape. When he’d restored the altar, he’d found a small room behind the gated area of the altar, down a stairway in the back, filled with wine. The priests’ secret wine room.

He’d repaired the stairs, then restored the altar, but he’d removed the crucifix and hung a cross. Then he’d installed leaded windows, created at a shop in town, and whitewashed the walls. Retiled the floor in stone. Added simple prayer pews. Started taking his morning coffee in here, reading his Bible, praying.

And now, murals from the children painted the walls—waves and shorelines dotted with palm trees, the dark volcano. In one rendition, it erupted, with yellow lava flowing down its slopes. Coconut trees and pictures of the sugar-cane plantation and a flowing sea with octopuses and dolphins and crabs and sharks... The chapel had come alive with color.

As he stepped inside the room, lit with flickering candles, the place felt nearly magical. A few other donors followed them in.

“These are amazing,” said Elise. “Which one is yours, Jamal?”

He pointed to a whale floating on the sea.

“That’s a big whale,” said Hunter.

“I can see them sometimes, from my window!” Jamal squeezed Doyle’s hand.

“Wow.” Elise crouched in front of him. “I’ve never seen a whale.”

Doyle leaned over. “My guess is that they’re dolphins.”

Elise looked up at him, her face alight. Back to Jamal. “What else can you see from your window?”

“The ocean. Big waves. Sometimes Kemar is outside, riding his motorbike.”

Kemar had a motorbike?

Doyle said nothing, and Jamal let go of his hand.

---