Choir Boy by Unknown Author

he felt delight in spite of himself. The rest of the session, they talked like friends about music and families. Berry left Dr. Tamarind’s office chuckling.
    Someone in the waiting room threw a magazine over his face as soon as Berry emerged. Berry only glimpsed Canon Moosehead for a moment. Berry walked over. The Canon held his copy of Rolling Stone over his face as if inspecting the Yeah Yeah Yeahs up close. Berry peered over Jem to make doubly sure. The Canon cringed behind newsprint. Berry recognized the meaty face and soft beard, even without a collar. The Canon looked up at Berry, his eyes a plea.
    Berry turned and stalked out. It came to Berry what was going on: Dr. Tamarind wanted to spy on Berry, so he was recruiting within the church. Canon Moosehead had obviously come to report on Berry’s movements. So much for Berry’s victory.
    Berry took his time getting home. He no longer wanted an ice cream.
    But Marco didn’t have an ice cream for Berry anyway. He had “something better, a surprise. Come on.” Marco dragged Berry back out of the apartment. Then they walked a few blocks and waited for the downtown bus. They rode south through darkening streets. Berry’s paranoia sliced deeper. If Canon Moosehead and Dr. Tamarind could plot against him, what could his dad be up to? The neighborhood got nastier around him as they lunged into the darkness. “I told your mother not to wait up for us,” Marco said. “Guy stuff.” Berry wanted to run away, but he wasn’t sure he could find his way home.
    Marco led Berry to a big wooden door with a tiny window in it. He pulled the door open and revealed a stone staircase into a brick cellar lined with a bar on one side and small booths on the other. “Surprise,” Marco said. He pulled out a small rectangle and handed it to Berry. In the cellar bar’s gloom, Berry could hardly read the shiny little card. But he recognized a picture of himself from a choir photo, looking serious and mature. And he made out a date that overstated his age by eight years. “It’s not a driver’s license. I didn’t want you to get any crazy ideas about driving,” Marco said. He ordered two beers and handed one to Berry, who held up the fake ID to the bartender. The bartender barely glanced at it. “After this, we’ll go to a strip joint. You’re growing,” Marco said with a smile. Berry started singing, very softly, so only he could hear.
    The beer smelled like the woods around the Peterman school after a torrent.
    “Drain it,” said Marco. Marco acted scary-jolly, the way he did after one of his rages. Berry stared into his beer. After he drank enough, Marco fulfilled his threat to take Berry to a strip bar. They huddled at the side of a rounded stage with a fire pole at its front. Berry wondered whether a fire station somewhere was missing its pole and the firemen had resorted to jumping downstairs. As the night stretched and woman after slender woman came out and whipped around the pole, Marco put his hand on his son’s shoulder and drew Berry’s head into his chest. Berry watched the women dance from under his dad’s arm until he fell asleep. Then his dad roused him and they took the bus home.
    Berry slept through Judy’s first two attempts to wake him the next morning. “You can’t miss school so soon after your big absence. Now get some clothes on.”
    Rat sensed Berry’s half-awake state and made him stand in front of the class and explain why Mr. Darcy might be a good match.
    At choir rehearsal, the boys overheard Berry telling Wilson what had happened. He started out describing it as an ordeal. “It was ass-dark down there and that beer was so big.” Then Berry noticed the other boys gathering around. They started giving him thumbs up and hooting when he told about the strip club. Berry soon realized this story was best told as a victory.
    “Oh man,” Teddy said. “Can we trade dads?”
    Berry described all the impossibly top-heavy and skinny women in greater