Read To Play the Fool for Free Online Page B

Graduate Theological Union was run by
a different church, or an order within a church--the first
building with the silent but friendly monk, for example, had been the
Franciscan school. However, Church Divinity School of the Pacific could
be anything. The service going on in the front was vaguely like the
familiar Catholic Mass, but she imagined that most churches would at
least be similar. Rosalyn, she thought she remembered, had belonged to
a small, largely gay and lesbian denomination, but it surely could not
be the possessor of a grand setup like this.
    She looked at the books of various sizes and colors in the holder in
front of her. The first one she pulled out was a Bible, which
didn't help much. The next one she tried was a small limp volume,
its onionskin pages covered with Greek writing and a sprinkling of
English headings such as "The ministry of John the Baptist"
and "The five thousand fed." That went back into the
holder, too. At this point, the man next to her took pity on the poor
heathen. He handed her a book, put his finger to the page to guide her
reading, and smiled in encouragement.
    She studied the page for a minute, which seemed to offer alternate
choices for prayers, and then flipped to the front of the book: The
Book of Common Prayer didn't tell her much, but farther down the
title page she came across the key words
Episcopal Church.
So
Brother Erasmus, homeless advocate and adviser, traveled across the Bay
every week to say his prayers with the church that, if she remembered
the joke right, served a vintage port as its sacramental wine. And
furthermore, he seemed quite chummy here. Look at him seated next to
the dean, two gray heads, one in need of a haircut and above a set of
shoulders in a ratty tweed jacket, the other hair cropped short above
some black garment that looked both elegant and clerical, both of
them-—
    Everyone stood up. Kate nearly dropped the prayer book, then rose
belatedly to her feet. There was a reading and a brief hymn, for which
she had to flip back thirty pages in the prayer book, after which came
a familiar prayer called the Apostles' Creed, forty pages ahead
of the hymn. Then everyone kneeled down to recite an unfamiliar version
of the Lord's Prayer.
    After the "Amen" some people sat, although others stayed
on their knees,- Kate compromised by perching on the edge of her pew.
Her view of Erasmus, partial before, was now limited to the top of his
head, and it would not be improved short of sitting on her
neighbor's lap. The important thing was not to let him leave, and
she could see him well enough to prevent that. She glanced through her
prayer book, looking up regularly at the shaggy graying head in the
second pew. She learned that The Book of Common Prayer had been
ratified on October 16, 1789,- that the saint's day for Mary
Magdalene was July 22 and that of the martyrs of New Guinea, 1942, was
September 2.
    There was a shuffle and everyone stood up again with books in their
hands, but not the book Kate held. Fortunately, the hymnal was clearly
marked on its cover, so she traded the two books, found the page by
looking over her neighbor's arm, and joined the hymn in time for
the final verse. When they sat, it was time again for the prayer book,
but at that point Kate decided the hell with it and just sat in an
attitude of what she hoped looked like pious attentiveness.
    More words from the altar, response from the congregation, another
hymn, a final blessing, and then everyone was rising and chattering in
release. Kate stayed in her pew, allowing the people on the inside to
push past her until the two men she had been watching hove into view,
and she realized that she had made a profound mistake: The unkempt
graying head belonging to the ratty tweed turned out to be that of a
much younger, shorter, and beardless man. Brother Erasmus, on the other
hand, was wearing an immaculate black cassock that swept from shoulders
to feet in an elegant arc, broken only by the white