Free Mercy on These Teenage Chimps by Gary Soto

a wicker basket.
    "Oh, I'm sorry." I produced the Sacagawea dollar from my shirt pocket and dropped it into the basket.
    Once again I turned my attention to the two teenagers. They had locked their gaze on me, and it was anything but angelic. I figured if they were there, Cory would be somewhere in the church, too. The warthog mouthed a word in my direction, or was he getting ready to break into song?
    Jessica had moved from my side back to the piano. She began to pound out "Rock of Ages." We sang that one and another about storms, and then the pastor descended six carpeted steps from the altar. He asked, "Birthdays! Who's celebrating a May birthday?" I imagined a cake with a hundred candles.
    "Come on, don't be shy," the pastor called cheerfully. "Come on, ladies. Boys! Mr. Roskin, I know your birthday's in May."
    There was some shuffling in the pews and rattling of church bulletins. Soon six churchgoers of varying ages stood in front—and one was Cory! There he stood in a white shirt, bow tie, and blue blazer. His hair was combed, his face scrubbed, his mouth solemnly closed. His pants rode high, revealing orange socks, which made me think that maybe I missed a fashion phase.
    Cory's eyes slid in my direction. He furrowed his brow, confused by my presence. He mouthed a word. What did he want? He formed a complete sentence that was something like
Wait for me.
    I mouthed back,
Why?
    I received no reply because Cory's mother glared at him to knock it off. I was familiar with that kind of motherly look.
    The congregation sang "Happy Birthday." The birthday crowd received orange pencils.
    "You are older...," the pastor announced with his arms out. One of the women frowned at this exclamation.
    "...and wiser," the pastor heralded. "We'll have cake in the basement."
    Service broke up like a football huddle, and the yawn that had been building inside me finally materialized. But I was polite enough to hide it behind a hand, and with that yawn-scented hand I shook hands with an elderly gentleman with hearing aids in both ears. He seemed glad to see me.
    Before there was a rush to the door, I pulled Jessica aside and asked if I could see her later.
    "Why?" she asked.
    "It's about Joey, the guy who climbed into the rafters."
    Jessica beamed and told me to come by her house around four. She would have to eat Sunday lunch and finish her homework before her mom would let her do anything else. She gave me directions to her house, but I knew already.
    My exit from church wasn't a cinch. Jessica left when her mother called her, and then a gloved hand latched onto my arm. The hand belonged to Mrs. Fuller.
    "Greetings," she sang. She smelled heavily of perfume.
    "Hi," I answered weakly.
    "It's good to see you in church."
    I gazed around and pronounced, "It's a neat place."
    Mrs. Fuller clutched my forearm. Behind a face caked with makeup, she observed that I was such a growing boy. Her eyes locked knowingly on me as I realized she was recalling
So Now You're a Teenager.
    "You know, we have a youth group. You should join."
    I imagined the warthog as the leader of the youth group. One of our activities could be going through people's glove compartments while everyone was in service.
    She lowered her face to my ear and asked in a minty whisper, "How come you were talking to the Bentley girl? Is there something between you and her?"
    "She's helping me with homework," I lied.
    With that revelation, Mrs. Fuller smiled and revealed lipstick on the front row of her sharklike teeth. She was smelling blood. I think it was my blood.
    "Oh, is that right?" she responded. She waited for me to tell her more. I tried to get away politely, but her hand gripped my arm. Dang, she was strong. Anchored in boxy shoes and with her weight behind her, she was a mighty force. With her other hand, she fanned herself with the church bulletin, circulating her perfume around my face. I recognized the scent. It was called Morning Glory.
    "You will come back, won't