Paraleipomena

CASE #1: THE CASE OF THE MISSING SAINT

October 31, 2022

A. First Encounter

If you're hearing the news, then you would know what happened in the University of St. Albert around All Souls Day was very entertaining news, lasting through Christmastime. And I am your humble chronicler for that regard—concerning our adventure with the Case of the Missing Saint in the exposition to be held on Nov. 1.

I am a journalist. Yes, I'd love to write and I am currently working a piece of news for next month's issue. The name is Levi, Levi Pelaez. At the same time I am a studying seminarian of the theologate level and so far doing some good time.

But among all the other pieces of writing that I have penned, there is none so precious to me than typing these cases. And this one is a very example of it. I wanted to try and publish in the school paper, but there are various reasons as to why I can't. One reason is that the paper, by the name of SANCTA, does not accept currently these short stories. Another reason is that the people mentioned here may have their reputations tarnished further than they already have. And one last reason—

Him.

No, I do not mean this in the negative manner, though he is very negative now and again, and as of the moment he is scowling at me for writing this account. He has said many times why I should not do this. I responded back with the same number of replies. He gave up—mostly because he said that I didn't understand.

Who?

His name is Russell Panganiban.

But I guess you're here for the intriguing details of the case and not my sobstory. Well, it starts here.

In the SANCTA publication office.

I wore my black clerical uniform for the day, a student of the seminary department of the university. And it was my first time entering the publication office. And I made sure that my hair was combed well.

The chief editor of the paper, a very busy student at the time who was knee-deep in his thesis writing that afternoon, assigned me a menial task as a freshman of the university. He said that since I belonged to the seminary, he wanted some insight to the returning seminarians there from regency (more on that later).

The office was messy, to say the least. Everyone was typing on their computers, coffee and tea piping hot on their desks (which made me curious if they managed to spill on the desk). There were some empty desks, signaling that some went out to have a break, if not a rest for the day. Others had classes. Despite this, it was a busy room.

At the wall to the side, motivational quotes posters approved by the university with its insignia on the corner were plastered to keep us from boredom. I'd stare at them now and again, but they get boring much later and pretty much ignored.

"Can I trust you with this job?" the editor asked, half-glancing at me and at the desktop. Open on his desk was a paper on architecture of the numerous churches in Northern Luzon. And I could guess what his thesis' topic was from that detail.

"Sure you can chief," I replied in a chirpy voice. After all, it was my first time to meet him and it was my first assignment.

"It's up to you on who you want to interview for the returning seminarians for their experience back home," he said. "But there is one---" he gave some thought over it and scratched his head. And he shook his head. "Maybe him—but..."

"Who is it chief?"

He shook his head again. "Just pick from one among them, you know the approachable and interesting ones. I heard there's a young professional there that could say much."