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Affichage des articles du janvier 27, 2016

The mysteries of Christianity

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ONE SUNDAY IN MIDDLE SCHOOL when Charlie was riding his bike back from the synagogue, he happened to pass the church at the bottom of the hill his house was on. The bell had just rung, sailing little boats of sound out over the green world, with families pouring out onto the lawn and an almost military double line there of kids Charlie’s age, boys in slacks on the right, girls in kneeskirts on the left. Perhaps it was how still they were that drew his gaze, for when had Charlie ever known a mixed-sex group to stand so still? A person in penguiny robes crouched before them. At her signal, they turned and headed back into the now-exhausted church. Mickey Sullivan’s red head, taller than the others, turned right past the spot where Charlie was standing, foot propped on a pedal, but if he saw, he made no sign.
Charlie was nervous asking about it the next day—nervous Mickey might give him an Indian burn or a titty-twister, as he tended to do when some awkwardness arose between them. To his …