Choir Boy Read Online Free PDF

parchment-colored pages, half of which no longer held notes. His head throbbed and his vision blotched.
    “You shouldn’t have abused your hymnal,” Mr. Allen told Berry.
    Rehearsal ended after a thousand Benjamin Britten run-throughs, and Evensong came. Canon Moosehead wore his least flashy robe, a stark black hooded cope that matched the carpet in the Peterman chapel. The Canon walked easily and smiled at everyone.
    “He looks normal,” Teddy whispered. “How do we know if it worked?”
    “Wait,” Marc said. “And see.”
    The choir sang hymns and a short Byrd piece. Then Canon Moosehead got up and looked around at the assembled boys and girls. Most of the girls had skipped the robes and wore miniskirts. Julie and Becky, on either side of the big aisle, crossed their legs and dangled their platforms in the middle of the chapel.
    “Welcome to another Choir Camp,” Canon Moosehead said. “I can see you’ve been taking advantage of your time here to get in to all sorts of mischief. But the real reason we’re here is to bring honor to the Cathedral of St. Luke’s. When I look around at all your impertinent young bodies, I remember when ...” The Canon’s eyes traveled around the chapel. He paused. His eyes lingered in the aisle. They swept the boys and girls again. As the Canon met her eyes, Julie winked. The Canon tried to speak again, and it came out “But—but—you must—” Then he moved strategically behind the lectern that had nearly maimed Berry. He took a deep breath. “But we must harness, we must bind, I mean capture ... we must use that wellspring of youthful, of . . . of . . . energy and make it service . .. uh, a greater purpose.” He took a deep breath. “In the name of the Father, etc.” Canon Moosehead sat in a hurry and kept his legs crossed.
    “Shortest damn sermon he ever gave,” Marc said afterwards. “Recruiting Julie and Becky to show some skin was a great touch. And next time, back at the cathedral, we get the altar boys to help. They bring him coffee all the time.” “Next time?” Berry said. “Wasn’t once enough?”
    “Not when it was that cool,” Marc said.
    Canon Moosehead didn’t show up at dinner. The next morning, he left early and drove back to the city alone.
    Wilson didn’t talk to Berry the next day. Berry wandered alone when he wasn’t in rehearsals. He felt almost as lonely and empty as he had all summer. He felt like he was falling naked from an airplane in the desert. Even if he survived the fall, the ground offered nothing.
    The last evening of camp, Saturday, the choir had a big bonfire out in a field near campus. Someone played hip hop on a boombox, and the kids roasted marshmallows and hot dogs. Nobody sang. Berry sat too close to the fire, so his cheeks smarted and the back of his neck tickled. Wilson came and sat next to Berry. “Hey,” Wilson said. “Our last summer. ”
    Berry nodded. “This time next year, we’ll all sound like dirt roads. We’ll be into skateboards or pro wrestling or something. All our skills, gone to shit.” He couldn’t explain, but he knew Wilson knew: sugar turning to chalk, the ground slipping away. Berry’s eyes stung from smoke exposure, or tears seeping out. He knew the others could never see it, or he’d be smacked into next year.
    “That’s nature’s plan,” Wilson said. “Personally I’m glad I get puberty before I die.”
    Teddy came and sat on the other side of Berry. “Hey,” he said. “No matter what, we’ve kicked some major booty together. And we’ll always know we were in the coolest treble section on the fuckin’ planet. We mixed blood on that tampon, and that makes us brothers.”
    Berry was so preoccupied with sucking any tears back in through his eyes that he couldn’t reply, only nod. Through his not-crying blur, he noticed a glistening in the other boys’ eyes, too, but it was probably just a trick of the fire.
    3.
    Back to school. New pair of jeans. Black binder with an