Patience is 25. She feels much older. The Lord has seen fit to test her harshly during her short time on this earth and it has taken its toll.

She slumps in the back seat of the car beside her Father. She’s never been in such a fine vehicle. She does not know why she is here now. Only that the car appeared in camp at sundown and that her Father told her they had to go.

What she does know is that they are heading north. It is a cold, clear night and she can tell by the stars.

Her Father does not speak. When she moves to take his hand, he pulls it away. The driver is likewise quiet. Occasionally she glimpses his eyes in the rearview mirror. They are blue and cold.

Patience is not afraid of silence. It is in silence that the Lord speaks to his Faithful. And so she sits, quiet, staring at the landscape as it passes outside. The moon makes the world all silver and shadow. It is very peaceful and very beautiful.

Our Father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name...

An hour passes like that, in silence and prayer, and eventually they come in view of Lake Erie. It is not yet frozen, winter having just started to take hold. There are waves out there, Patience can see them, and the light of the moon makes them into a kind of liquid and undulating metal. Miraculous.

God is truly great, look upon His wonders and see, Patience tells herself. She turns to her Father, hoping to point this out. But he is facing straight ahead. His eyes are closed. She does not think he is sleeping and she does not wish to disturb him at prayer.

A half hour more and they’ve driven into Lackawanna. The Basilica comes into view. Our Lady of Victory. Patience has been here once before, with her Father just after her tenth birthday. But she does not remember much about that trip. Only the grand and imposing structure itself, likewise at night. Though it had been cloudy then, and wet from recent rain.

The car pulls onto a small service road behind the Basilica, passing a sign that reads ‘Do Not Park.’ They park.

The driver gets out and shuts his door, Patience watches him descend a set of stairs at the back of the formidable structure, into some sort of basement or sub-level under the Basilica itself.

She turns to her Father who has not moved: “Daddy, what are we doing here?”

“Quiet Patience.” He does not look at her when he speaks.

“Daddy, who is that man? Please. Why are we here?”

Finally he turns to face her. There are tears in his eyes. And something else. Fear?

“The Lord asks many things of us, Patience. Hard things. We are about His business tonight. Now be quiet and do as you are told.”

Patience is suddenly afraid. But it will not do to disobey her Father. She quiets herself and waits.

Eventually, the driver appears again. It’s only now she realizes the fineness of his suit. He opens her door and motions for Patience to get out. Her Father follows.

The driver does not look at them. “You may go down,” he says, indicating the stairs he’s just taken with a wave of his hand. At that, he shuts their door, opens his own, and climbs into the car.

The vehicle departs. Her Father leads her down.

Everything is made of the same stone. Marble maybe? The stairs are smooth with age and weather. Patience follows her Father with her head bowed, praying to calm herself.

Inside, it is dark. It smells of incense and dust. Underneath it all is something sweet and sickly. Like decay. Her Father walks on, seemingly untroubled by the lack of light. As if he knows his way by heart.

They pass racks of vestments, stacks of old hymnals. Canned goods. They pass boxes stacked and sagging. They come to a steel door and her Father turns to look at her.

Patience can barely make out the shape of his face in the darkness. She can smell his breath, slightly sour. After a long moment, he speaks.

“Patience. You are about to meet a very important...man,” she picks up on his slight hesitation but does not know what it means. “He is one of God’s chosen. Truly elect. And he knows all about us, the camp. Our mission.” Another hesitation. “And you. About the Lord’s hand and His marks upon you.” He reaches out and places a hand on either shoulder, squeezing. “You must do as he says. You must.”

Now Patience is truly frightened. Her mind is a whirl. What does it all mean? But she knows that her Father must be obeyed. In all things. It is the Will of the Lord. So all she says is: “Yes, Daddy. Yes.” She does not know any other answer.

Seemingly satisfied, her Father lets her go. “Good,” he turns back to the door. “Good girl.” He knocks.

A full minute passes, and then the door swings inward on rusted hinges. They whine in complaint. There is no light inside. The darkness is so deep, it is a physical thing. A black wall.

“Master,” her Father says suddenly, not entering. It startles her a little. “I have brought my daughter, Patience. As you asked.”

A voice answers from within. The speaker is a man, his accent is unfamiliar. His is a voice used to command. “Good. Very good, preacher. You shall have your reward. Now go. Leave us.” The words vibrate in the air. It is strange, hearing her Father spoken to like that. Appalling, but also a little thrilling.

She can hear her Father exhale shakily beside her. He turns and leaves without another word, perhaps brushing her hand with his own as he goes. Or is it only an accident? She does not know. The sound of his steps receding makes Patience feel very alone.

“Patience, child,” the voice says. “Enter.”

She must obey. Must not balk. It is her Father’s will. It is the Lord’s Will.

Patience crosses the threshold. One step. Two. More. Into the dark. The door shuts behind her. The smell of decay is stronger here. Patience shudders but does not flee. Somehow knows it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Do you believe, Patience? Do you have Faith in the Lord our God? Do you serve Him in all things?”

“Yes,” she answers. Her voice is full of conviction. There is a tremor, but it is faint. Her Faith is all she has in this dark place. Everything else is gone. "I do."

“Yes,” the voice echoes. “Yes. I can hear it. Feel it. The strength of it.” The voice sounds pleased. Almost hungry.

Patience does not answer. She is caught by fear. Confusion.

“Do not be afraid, Patience. The Lord has sent you to me. And together, child, we will do His Work.”

“Wha—what do you mean, Sir?”

“In time,” the voice answers. “In time, you will have it all. Your Father has left you as he was commanded. As the Lord commanded. He has left you with me. I serve our God, as He ordained. Come now, Patience. Come and pray with me, my Child.”

Despite her terror, Patience realizes that the voice is familiar.

Our Father who art in heaven

She was here when she was ten.

Hallowed be thy name...

Patience does as she is told. Not that she has a choice.

Patience has never had a choice.