"Leni! Rafael! What are—" His face fell as he saw the costume that Fede wore. Now that we were inside the church, Fede was happily stripping the putrid-smelling skin from his body. After peeling it back and tossing it aside in disgust, he stood in his underwear, scratching at his muscular chest and flicking away clumps of dried blood. He’d torn out the ear plugs and held them and the pectoral in one hand. I noticed that more than one of the Cristeros glanced at the gold greedily. So much for following Christ’s example of poverty.