Choir Boy Read Online Free PDF Page A

stepped around the girls, snagged a couple of theology books, and ran after Wilson. He caught up with Wilson halfway across the quad.
    “Tell me I’m better off,” Wilson ordered Berry,
    Berry obeyed.
    “Lying fuck,” Wilson peeped.
    “Girls can be mean,” Berry said. “Boys are so much easier to cope with.”
    Something smacked Berry in the back of the head. A rocket launcher valentine. He went down on the joints of his palms, flashes in his eyes. The flying object fell near him, and through the raver glaze Berry saw a hymnal. It fell open to “Come Down, O Love Divine,” one of Berry’s favorite hymns. Another hymnal careened past Wilson’s head. “You throw for shit,” Wilson said.
    “Hey Berry, think fast,” shouted Teddy.
    Berry rolled just in time to save his ribs from a falling lectern. Its golden eagle head plowed into the turf. Then a ring of boys stood over him. “Hey, Berry. No hard feelings. Llere, let me help you up,” Teddy said. He held out a hand and pulled Berry to his feet. Then he kicked Berry’s legs out from under him. This happened a couple of times. Berry rolled away and stood without help. He noticed Wilson walking away alone. “I gotta catch up with Wilson,” Berry said.
    “Not now. It’s almost time for Evensong, and we need your help,” Teddy said. “We gotta distract Canon Moosehead. You’re the most distracting person we know.” Berry almost sat back down on the grass.
    Berry caught up with Canon Moosehead in the cafeteria drinking coffee. “Hey,” Berry said. “I had this book to show you. It’s about Christianity without Jesus.” He motioned the Canon over to the table nearest the window, where he’d spread out The Sea of Faith.
    “Can’t you bring it over here?” the Canon asked. Berry shook his head.
    “The light’s better over here.” Berry stood by the book at the window. Then the Canon reluctantly walked over, but brought his coffee mug with him. Berry told Canon all about the book’s author, a minister who didn’t believe in God. “He says God is just an idea we invented to, uh, explain why we need morals.” Berry used up all his words. He mumbled something else.
    Berry stopped mid-sentence. A hymnal flew past the window. Smoke streamed behind it, and crimson flame rose from its pages. It was probably the same hymnal that had left an anthill on the back of Berry’s head. “What the . . . What was that?” the Canon barked.
    “Um, I think it was the Hymnal 1982,” Berry said. “The Hymnal 1940 has a darker cover.”
    The Canon ran outside, leaving his coffee. Teddy and Marc sprinted in. “You suck at distracting people,” Marc told Berry. He poured blue pills on the table. “How many? Three or four?”
    “Just hurry,” Teddy said.
    Marc crushed four pills under a salt shaker. He swept the results into the Canon’s coffee and stirred. Then he and Teddy ran away, leaving Berry with his book.
    Canon Moosehead returned a moment later. He had soot on his shoes and hands. “Your fellow choristers aren’t studying theology,” he said. He swigged. “The amount we pay to rent this school, you’d think they’d supply decent coffee,” he snarled. He chugged some more. “Anyway. What was it?”
    “Does Christianity need God?”
    “Saying that God’s only purpose is to inspire ethics is putting the buggy before the mule,” the Canon said. He guzzled coffee. “Ethics exist for the same reason you and I wear robes and prance: to bring people to God. When people start thinking of God in terms of Thou Shalt Not or Thou Must, they get turned off.” He raised the mug. “My aim is to turn them on,” last sip, “to God by being more relevant to the twenty-first century. Does that help?”
    “I think so,” Berry said. “Morality and cassocks, means to an end.”
    The choir didn’t have enough hymnals to go around. Guess whose hymnal had been hurled, set on fire, slingshot across the quad, and stomped? Berry stared down at the crumbled