The Christmas Cantata (The Liturgical Mysteries) by Schweizer Mark

Author:Schweizer, Mark [Schweizer, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: SJMP Books
Published: 2011-11-10T06:00:00+00:00

* * *

"I heard all y'all were looking for singers," said a voice from the top of the choir stairs. I looked up from where I was seated on the organ bench and saw Goldi Fawn Birtwhistle filling the doorway.

"We're always glad to welcome new choir members," said Meg. "Are y'all a soprano or an alto?" Meg was using the singular y'all, as opposed to the collective all y'all. Y'all is also permissible as a collective pronoun, but once all y'all has been introduced into the conversation, it is simply good manners to follow suit.

"I'm a soprano, I guess," said Goldi Fawn, maneuvering her heft past the occupied chairs of the tenor and bass sections. "I like to sing the tune."

"Good luck with that," muttered Muffy. "There ain't no tune that I can find. Not in this thing."

"I usually sing solos," Goldi Fawn said to Muffy. "You know, with an accompaniment track? My signature song is Christmas Shoes. It's a song about a little boy who wants to buy some shoes for his dyin' momma at Christmas so she can look pretty when she goes to meet Jesus."

"I sing that song, too," said Muffy. "It's beautiful!" She wiped a single tear from her eye. "But Hayden won't let us sing with a track."

Goldi Fawn Birtwhistle gave her a smile and a wink. "That's okay. I'm singing it at the Lion's Club Christmas luncheon in Boone next week. Wanna come?"

"Yeah!" said Muffy. "You think I could sing something, too?"

"Oh, I'm sure you could!" said Goldi Fawn, choosing an empty chair next to her new friend. "I know the program chairman. She comes in every week to get her stars done and her hair colored."

The choir had grown since Sunday, thanks to some heavy handed recruitment by Meg and Bev. I'd also made a few phone calls and now we numbered twenty-five. Codfish Downs had agreed to sing and was a good, if aging, tenor. Codfish made his living selling fresh mountain trout out of the trunk of his '98 Pontiac. Most of the trout farmers in the area thought that he made his living by selling stolen fresh mountain trout out of his trunk. This accusation had never been proven and until I had some evidence to the contrary, I had to view the Codfish's wares as not only legitimately procured, but also very tasty. If he was poaching trout, the farmers couldn't figure out how he was doing it. Fresh fish were a seasonal delicacy, however, and when the temperature dropped into the single digits, the trout became much harder to come by. Hence, when I offered the Codfish a few bucks to sing with us, he jumped at the chance.

Nancy didn't actually jump at the chance, but did agree to join us once Meg asked her nicely. Annie Cooke heard Bev and Elaine talking about the cantata over at the Ginger Cat and was invited to sing when she'd expressed a previously forgotten pleasure in singing Ralph Vaughan Williams' Hodie years ago with her college choir.

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