TWENTY-THREEPerformance would keep him going. That was a good thing to know, of course. The problem was with finding another venue, something just as big, that would keep him from dying, or even bigger, because just not-dying was no way to live.
Monsignor Grigorio agreed to another concert in a month’s time, but only because the first one had gotten good feedback. Mike tried to convince Sandie that they should let Grigorio in on the secret, but Sandie refused.
“He’s the Church,” she objected. Maybe John made her go to Mass every week, but that didn’t mean she trusted the Establishment as far as she could throw it.
“I’m the Church, too,” Mike pointed out. “And I haven’t shipped him off to the secret dungeons that the Vatican totally keeps just in case of alien invasions. Grigorio’s a goo
