Part 9 (1/2)

Yes, Sharon thought, looking around the sanctuary. Who can I get to help me?

”What are we singing for the processional?” one of the tenors asked.

” 'Adeste Fideles,'” Rose said. ”Before you leave, let's line up so you can see who your partner is.”

Reverend Wall was sitting in one of the back pews, looking at the notes to his sermon.

Sharon sidled along the pew and sat down next to him.

”Reverend Wall,” she said, and then had no idea how to start. ”Do you know what erkas means? I think it's Hebrew.”

He raised his head from his notes and peered at her. ”It's Aramaic. It means 'lost.'”

”Lost.” He'd been trying to tell her at the door, in the furnace room, downstairs. ”We're lost.”

”Forgotten,” Reverend Wall said. ”Misplaced.”

Misplaced, all right. By two thousand years, an ocean, and how many miles?

”When Mary and Joseph journeyed up to Bethlehem from Nazareth, how did they go?” she asked, hoping he would say, ”Why are you asking all these questions?” so she could tell him, but he said, ”Ah. You weren't listening to my sermon. We know nothing of that journey, only that they arrived in Bethlehem.”

Not at this rate, she thought.

”Pa.s.s in the anthem,” Rose said from the chancel. ”I've only got thirty copies, and I don't want to come up short tomorrow night.”

Sharon looked up. The choir was leaving. ”On this journey, was there anyplace where they might have gotten lost?” she said hurriedly.

” 'Erkas' can also mean 'hidden, pa.s.sed out of sight,'” he said. ”Aramaic is very similar to Hebrew. In Hebrew, the word-”

”Reverend Wall,” Reverend Farrison said from the center aisle. ”I need to talk to you about the benediction.”

”Ah. Do you want me to give it now?” he said, and stood up, clutching his papers.

Sharon took the opportunity to grab her folder and duck out. She ran downstairs after the choir.

There was no reason for any of the choir to go into the nursery, but she stationed herself in the hall, sorting through the music in her folder as if she were putting it in order, and trying to think what to do.

Maybe, if everyone went into the choir room, she could duck into the nursery or one of the Sunday school rooms and hide until everybody was gone. But she didn't know whether Reverend Farrison checked each of the rooms before leaving. Or worse, locked them.

She could tell her she needed to stay late, to practice the anthem, but she didn't think Reverend Farrison would trust her to lock up, and she didn't want to call attention to herself, to make Reverend Farrison think, ”Where's Sharon Englert? I didn't see her leave.” Maybe she could hide in the chancel, or the flower room, but that meant leaving the nursery unguarded.

She had to decide. The crowd was thinning out, the choir handing Rose their music and putting on their coats and boots. She had to do something. Reverend Farrison could come down the stairs any minute to search the nursery. But she continued to stand there, sorting blindly through her music, and Reverend Farrison came down the steps, carrying a ring of keys.

Sharon stepped back protectively, the way Joseph had, but Reverend Farrison didn't even see her. She went up to Rose and said, ”Can you lock up for me? I've got to be at Emmanuel Lutheran at 9:30 to collect their Least of These contributions.”

”I was supposed to go meet with the bra.s.s quartet-” Rose said reluctantly.

Don't let Rose talk you out of it, Sharon thought.”Be sure to lock all the doors, including the Fellows.h.i.+p Hall,” Reverend Farrison said, handing her the keys.

”No, I've got mine,” Rose said. ”But-”

”And check the parking lot. There were some homeless hanging around earlier. Thanks.”

She ran upstairs, and Sharon immediately went over to Rose. ”Rose,” she said.

Rose held out her hand for Sharon's anthem.

Sharon shuffled through her music and handed it to her. ”I was wondering,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual, ”I need to stay and practice the music for tomorrow. I'd be glad to lock up for you. I could drop the keys by your house tomorrow morning.”

”Oh, you're a G.o.dsend,” Rose said. She handed Sharon the stack of music and got her keys out of her purse. ”These are the keys to the outside doors, north door, east door, Fellows.h.i.+p Hall,” she said, ticking them off so fast, Sharon couldn't see which was which, but it didn't matter. She could figure them out after everybody left.

”This is the choir-room door,” Rose said. She handed them to Sharon. ”I really appreciate this. The bra.s.s quartet couldn't come to the rehearsal, they had a concert tonight, and I really need to go over the introit with them. They're having a terrible time with the middle part.”

So am I, Sharon thought.

Rose yanked on her coat. ”And after I meet with them, I've got to go over to Miriam Berg's and pick up the baby Jesus.” She stopped, her arm half in her coat sleeve. ”Did you need me to stay and go over the music with you?”

”No!” Sharon said, alarmed. ”No, I'll be fine. I just need to run through it a couple of times.”

”Okay. Great. Thanks again,” she said, patting her pockets for her keys. She took the keyring away from Sharon and unhooked her car keys. ”You're a G.o.dsend, I mean it,” she said, and took off up the stairs at a trot.

Two of the altos came out, pulling on their gloves. ”Do you know what I've got to face when I get home?” Julia said. ”Putting up the tree.”

They handed their music to Sharon.

”I hate Christmas,” Karen said. ”By the time it's over, I'm worn to a frazzle.”

They hurried up the stairs, still talking, and Sharon leaned into the choir room to make sure it was empty, dumped the music and Rose's robe on a chair, took off her robe, and went upstairs.

Miriam was coming out of the adult Sunday school room, carrying a pitcher of Kool-Aid.

”Come on, Elizabeth,” she called into the room. ”We've got to get to Buymore before it closes. She managed to completely destroy her halo,” she said to Sharon, ”so now I've got to go buy some more tinsel. Elizabeth, we're the last ones here.”

Elizabeth strolled out, holding a Christmas-tree cookie in her mittened hand. She stopped halfway to the door to lick the cookie's frosting.

”Elizabeth,” Miriam said. ”Come on.”

Sharon held the door for them, and Miriam went out, ducking her head against the driving sleet. Elizabeth dawdled after her, looking up at the sky.

Miriam waved. ”See you tomorrow night.”

”I'll be here,” Sharon said, and shut the door. I'll still be here, she thought. And what if they are? What happens then? Does the Christmas pageant disappear, and all the rest of it? The cookies and the shopping and the Senior Prom Barbies? And the church?

She watched Miriam and Elizabeth through the stained-gla.s.s panel till she saw the car's taillights, purple through the blue gla.s.s, pull out of the parking lot, and then tried the keys one after the other, till she found the right one, and locked the door.

She checked quickly in the sanctuary and the bathrooms, in case somebody was still there, and then ran down the stairs to the nursery to make sure they were still there, that theyhadn't disappeared.

They were there, sitting on the floor next to the rocking chair and sharing what looked like dried dates from an unfolded cloth. Joseph started to stand up as soon as he saw her poke her head in the door, but she motioned him back down. ”Stay here,” she said softly, and realized she didn't need to whisper. ”I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm just going to lock the doors.”

She pulled the door shut, and went back upstairs. It hadn't occurred to her they'd be hungry, and she had no idea what they were used to eating-unleavened bread? Lamb?