Free The Countertenor Wore Garlic (The Liturgical Mysteries) by Mark Schweizer Page A

wasn't the only girl in town that dressed like this, of course, but she was the most conspicuous. Well, unless she turned sideways. Her fashion choices had yet to rub off on Bud, but then, Bud was always an independent sort.
    Pauli Girl McCollough, Bud's eighteen-year-old sister, was the most beautiful girl in town. She was still a senior in high school, due to a bad case of pneumonia she'd contracted in the spring that kept her out of school for more than two months. She'd managed to keep up with most of her school work, but she had a few credits to complete, and would graduate at the end of the semester. Pauli Girl walked down the street like Daisy Mae, the barefoot Dogpatch damsel, her comic book boyfriends trailing in her wake like the lovesick McGoons they were. She wouldn't have a thing to do with any of them, and vowed to shake the dust of our small town off her shoes as soon as she graduated. To that end, she'd been waitressing in St. Germaine since she was fourteen and still had the very first penny she earned.
    Moosey—Moose-head Rheingold McCollough—had enough of a handicap to overcome just by virtue of the moniker given him by his drunken father after he'd slapped Ardine (after nine hours of labor) for suggesting the name "Paul," filled out the birth certificate himself, and handed it to the midwife waiting outside by her car. The name didn't bother Moosey, or anyone else in town. Nor did any of the kids make undue fun of him. In a town where there were more Tammys, Billy-Waynes, and Normettas than Mallorys, Olivias, and Heathers, a name like Moose-head Rheingold McCollough didn't raise many eyebrows. Besides, Moosey was a kid that everyone liked. His wire-rimmed glasses, seemingly always askew, framed a pair of dancing blue eyes, and although he was still missing a top cuspid, his once gap-toothed smile was almost complete and definitely contagious, even to the most fervent of curmudgeons. His head was topped with a mop of straw that hadn't yet seen a comb that could tame it. Well-worn blue jeans and coat were lovingly patched at the elbows and knees. His high-topped red Keds were his calling card.
    Moosey's Halloween posse was composed of most of the elementary Sunday School class at St. Barnabas. Moosey's best friend was Bernadette. Ashley and Christopher had been in Sunday School with both of them since kindergarten. Dewey had joined them last year. Samantha, Stuart, Addie, and Lily were all a year younger, and happy to be included. Garth and Garrett Douglas, age eight, were twins and the bane of educators everywhere. All the kids were dressed in their costumes and all were gathered in front of Brother Hog's tent.
    Brother Hog had erected his small tent in the southwest corner of Sterling Park across the street from Eden Books. He had a large tent as well—his revival tent—but that would have covered a good bit of the south end of the park, and the Kiwanis Club nixed that immediately. Still, Hog's "small tent" could easily hold twenty or thirty people. The front and side flaps of the white canvas pavilion had been lowered and there was no seeing inside. The banner outside of Hog's tent proclaimed "The Plague Faire," and the kids, some of whom had obviously done some advance reconnaissance, were waiting impatiently outside. When Hog finally pulled open the tent at eleven o'clock on the dot, Moosey and the gang dashed inside.
    The other booths opened at eleven as well and there was no shortage of Halloween revelers in Sterling Park, mostly young, but with a good dose of parents and grandparents to fill out the mix. There was plenty for everyone to do—bobbing for apples, games, races, donkey cart rides, pumpkin carving, and candy galore. In fact, the Piggly Wiggly had run out of candy earlier in the week and people around town had to go into Boone to stock up for what was looking to be a banner trick-or-treating year.

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    It was raining like an orphaned rat's tears when we pulled up to Buxtehooters, a