Chapter 24

I was all set. My bag was packed and I was sitting in the terminal at University Park Airport for the second time in two days, awaiting my boarding call. Yesterday’s violent weather had caused my commuter flight to be cancelled, and now I was going to have to have everything go perfectly just to make it to Alex’s wedding before it started.

I still couldn’t believe he was getting married, let alone that he was going to be a dad as well. I hadn’t seen him since Christmas break of oh-six, and that had only been for a brief time. But it had been long enough for him to tell me about the Christian guy he had been sharing an apartment with. …and with whom he had been having an illicit affair. At his request, we prayed together that God would help him put an end to it when he moved back into the dorm the next semester. I guess The Man Upstairs answered that prayer emphatically.

It had really come as a shock to me that he was marrying a woman. I had always tried to counsel him, especially after he became a Christian, that there were choices he had to make when he was faced with temptation. I truly believed when I told him, that if he made the right choices he would stop having a desire to be with guys in that way. I know now how wrong my advice to him was, but he must have taken it to heart, and God was blessing him for it. …Alex Harper marrying a woman – go figure.

Dear Father in heaven, I prayed under my breath. “If it’s not your will for Alex and Beth Ann to get married, then put your hand against them and keep it from happening. Please don’t let him mess up both their lives because of what I told him.

It must have been God’s will, because they did it. Beth Ann was beautiful in her satin white wedding gown. And Alex… Alex just beamed when he saw her enter the church. It was obvious to all that he truly did adore her. It made me think about Shelly more than once, but I had to admit to myself that what Shelly must have seen on my face when she looked at me must have been something less than what I saw on Alex’s face when he looked at Beth Ann. I thought of Elijah more than I thought of Shelly, though, and that I could tell, made my face beam too. I hoped, for maybe the first time, that one day he and I could display the love we had for each other to a church filled with witnesses and openly declare our undying love for each other.

“Phillip, what’s wrong,” Elijah asked when he answered my phone call that evening. As beautiful as the ceremony had been, I had been devastated when I entered the dressing room shortly after I had arrived and found Alex with what appeared to be a veritable drug store set out on the table before him.

“Alex has HIV,” I numbly mumbled into my end of the phone.

A palatable silence filled my ear as the impact of what I told my love settled into his brain.

“I walked in on him while he was taking his meds.”

“Ah, hon,” Elijah consoled. “You must have felt awful.”

“He said it happened one night before he and Beth Ann made love to each other. Elijah, they don’t know if the baby’s infected or not. …there’s no way to tell until after it’s born.”

“Did he tell you how it happened?”

“He ran into his old boyfriend from high school on campus. He said he thought maybe they could get back together again. Eddie was always so reckless when they were dating. It’s why they eventually broke up. He sent Alex to the clinic to get treated more than once. Now he’s given him a life sentence.

“He’s so young. It’s not fair. He made a mistake and now he’s got to pay for it with his life, and maybe his child’s life.”

“Does his wife have it?” Elijah asked tenderly.

“She’s tested negative so far, but the doctor told him they wouldn’t know for sure until after six months.”

“Phil? We’ve never really talked much with each other about our faiths, but I think we should pray for them – together.”

We bared our souls to each other through our prayers over the phone. Both of us crying at times; pleading with God to intervene in the lives, not just of Alex and Beth Ann, and their yet to be born child, but for others who battled for their lives against the hideous killer of mostly, young lives.

After we told each other goodnight, I continued holding the phone to my ear for a moment, thinking Elijah had disconnected.

“You still there, Sunshine?”

“Uh-huh”

“I thank God every day for you, Phillip. I thank him that he’s kept us both from that world. Someday…” I heard his voice catch. “Phillip someday …when we come together. I mean if God ever brings us together like that – as one flesh – well, I’m glad we’ll be able to know that we’re giving each other something which hasn’t been partially destroyed by something we did in our past.

“I guess what I’m really trying to say, is that I’m so glad we’ve both decided to wait.”

“Do you think God will lead us together like that, Elijah? I’m kind of embarrassed to say it, but I think about what it would be like a lot. It’s stupid, ‘cause God is everywhere, but sometimes it’s really hard for me to not feel like I want to shove God out of the room when I’m with you, so we can be together …completely together.”

“So you’re a horndog then?”

Elijah’s suddenly breaking the tension with such irreverent verbiage brought a smile to my face again.

“Woof!”

“I was starting to wonder if that was the real reason why Michelle kicked you out.”

“Someday…” I whispered into the phone after I realized our conversation had digressed sufficiently that if someone had overheard us, they might think we were on a 900 line.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport.”

“You better tame that wild beast of yours before you arrive, or someone might call the police.”

“I love you too, Elijah. Go take a cold shower.”

Sunday, Elijah met me at the Philadelphia International airport so we could travel together to my parent’s home, some fifty miles to the north. I had just collected my bag and made my way to the sidewalk as he pulled to the curb in his freshly washed Crossfire. I marveled as I watched the top retract into the boot, then dropped my bag behind the seat, and climbed in.

“I see the beast’s been tamed,” he sniggled as I was putting on my seatbelt.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What? It’s wrong for me to not want my boyfriend to embarrass me in public?”

“Embarrass you?”

“I’ll never be embarrassed to be seen with you,” he whispered as he pulled my face toward his and kissed me gently on the lips. We both heard someone close by mumble “damned faggots,” and broke it off.

“Ah-h-h… “Lij, why’s you face all red. Didn’t you just tell me you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“I guess I should have waited until after I greeted you to fold the top back,” he said meekly noticing a few more menacing glares being directed at us.

“They’re just jealous of me because I get to kiss you and they don’t,” I said loudly enough to be heard by a few passersby, then leaned in for another taste.”

“m-m-m-m… I’ve been in a fog ever since my Rising Sun set in California,” he said as he ruffed my hair.

“Do you think we should stop and get some gel, so you can put my hair in points? …just for shock value.”

“Phil, be serious. Your parents are probably shocked enough as it is. They don’t need you to look like you really have joined the other side.”

“Oh-h? …and what other side is that?”

“The rebellious college kid side.”

“True, but I’ve always been their fuzzy-haired little boy. Maybe changing my hairstyle would be a way to get them to see me differently; to see that I’ve grown up.”

“We could dye it jet black, and paint your fingernails. You might look interesting in goth.”

“Will you be serious?”

For almost an hour, we discussed, of all things, hair style. “God, we really must be gay,” I said out loud as I directed Elijah to pull into the Kmart parking lot near my home.

I just about melted into my seat as we sat in a remote corner of the parking lot and my boyfriend, gosh it felt good to finally be able to allow myself to admit that, worked the gel through my, still orange, hair. We had decided that instead of twisting my hair into peaks, it might look good just to pull the sides back, and work the entire top upward into a sort of expanded Mohawk.

“You nervous?” Elijah asked as we pulled back onto the road, to drive the final five miles to Stirling Heights, where both my families lived.

I reached over and grabbed the hand that was resting on the gearshift knob.

“You are definitely nervous,” he said pulling his hand away from my icy cold grip.

“I’ll be alright. Mom tried to make it sound like she was really looking forward to meeting you, when I called her last night. …Yeah. A little nervous, I guess.”

We pulled into the drive at Ed and mom’s house and stopped the car. I began chewing my lip when mom didn’t burst through the kitchen door to greet us. She never missed the sound of a car pulling in.

“What’s up,” Elijah asked, looking at my face, his own radiant smile clouded over with concern.

“It’s just that mom always comes out to greet people when she hears them. Maybe I should’ve given them more time to get used to the idea of me being queer.”

“You’re anything but queer, Phillip Johnson. Maybe she just didn’t hear us.”

Just as I was thinking about giving my handsome beau a hug, mom appeared behind the screen door.

Even through the darkened mesh, I could see she had been crying recently. Maybe more than seeing it, I could sense her disappointment.

The door opened slowly as I walked toward her.

“Oh Phillip,” she gushed when I finally reached her. She threw her arms around me and just held on, like she was afraid to let go of her little boy. When she finally did let go of me, she straightened herself, trying to be brave, and gave Elijah a stiff embrace.

“Welcome to our home Elijah,” she said in a rather strained voice, inspecting him carefully.

I prayed under my breath that somehow God would work things out between us.

She backed up and grabbed one of each of our hands in hers. “Look at you, Phillip. What have you done to your hair? You look,” her breath caught for and instant. “…it looks like my little boy’s grown up.”

“You like it?”

“Well-l-l-l, I wouldn’t exactly say I like it, but it does make you look older.

“Ed, boys,” she called into the house. “They’re here.”

Arn was the first one after mom to greet us. He literally took a flying leap at me and nearly knocked me over.

“Aar-o-on,” I complained, “you’re too big to be hurtling yourself at people.”

“Dad said I could try out for Midget League football next year, so I’m just practicin’.”

“Practicing,” I corrected

“Mom tell you say that?”

“Did mom,” I again corrected.

He just rolled his eyes, then he fastened his gaze on Elijah. “That him? Is he your boyfriend? He’s got a big nose.”

“Aar-o-on, That’s rude!” I warned, waving my balled up fist in front of his face, thinking for an instant that with one jab I could probably make his nose match Elijah’s.

“Going to make,” he chastised, “not ‘gonna make.’ Maybe you better start practicing what you preach.”

Elijah was laughing as he made his may over to shake Arn’s hand.

“Where’d ya get the cool hat?’ he asked Elijah, “Can I see it?”

“Aaron you are such a pain.”

“I know. It’s a good thing I’m so cute, or I’d probably get into more trouble than I already do.”

“Who says you’re cute? You’re a brat.”

“What rock did you crawl out from under? Everyone says I’m cute.”

“I give up. …and it’s a yarmulke.”

“What is?”

“The hat – it’s called a yarmulke. It’s part of his Jewish faith.

By now Ed was in the room greeting us, and my brother Sammy was timidly hanging at the edge of the room.

“You must be Elijah,” Ed said as he reached out to greet him.

“Yes sir”

“Sam, come over and say hi to Phil and Elijah.”

Sam just turned and quietly slunk from the room.

“Mo-om,” I protested, “what’s that all about? Sam,” I called after him, “dude, you are being so ignorant.”

“Phillip, please. You know how sensitive he is. Please don’t force things with him. He’s young. He doesn’t understand.”

I heard her words, but my mother’s eyes said so much more. More than I think she wanted them too.

“You don’t understand either?” It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else.

 “Mom, Ed, until a few weeks ago, I didn’t even understand. But a pastor, Father Tim Wallace, who’s interning at a church I’ve been going to in State College, has helped me to work through the scriptures and see that the passages in the bible that they always tell us forbid gay relationships, aren’t exactly like they seem. They’re talking about more specific things than just relationships in general.

I was surprised how easily the “g-word” had rolled out of my mouth.

The room went deathly quiet as I reached over and took Elijah’s hand.

“He’s an intern?” mom asked, staring at our interlaced fingers. The inference was hard to miss.

“Can I show you one simple passage in the bible he showed to me that may help you understand how we believe God sees relationships?” I said to her, and then turning to look at the man I believed would one day be my completer. “It’s in Galatians chapter three, verse twenty-eight.”

Mom pulled her New International Version of the bible off the kitchen table and opened it to the verse.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female; for you are all one in Christ,” she read aloud, and then looked at me, trying to figure out what I was getting at.

“Either of you have a copy of the English Standard Version?” I asked.”

Ed walked into the next room and pulled his bible out of the end table drawer beside the sofa.

“I just bought a copy,” he said, returning to the kitchen as he leafed through the pages to find the passage. “Mark Kauffman told me it’s a more literal translation.”

He must have seen immediately the point I was going to make, and hrmphed.

“Look here Ellen, this one reads ‘… Greek nor Jew, slave nor free,’ but then it reads: ‘there is no male and female.’ It’s like Paul’s distinguishing between different religious and social groups, but not necessarily gender. He’s written this like he believes that maybe God sees male and female as the same thing when he looks at us. …like maybe we’re just people in His eyes.”

Elijah moved over beside Ed, who moved the bible to where he could see the words. As a follower of Jewish Orthodoxy, he had likely never read any of the New Testament. I could see the ‘wheels’ turning in his head.

“Are you a believer in Yeshua Hamashia, Elijah?” Ed asked rather easily.

Ed’s words seemed to impress him.

“Ah, no sir. I believe… well I’ve always been taught that the Yeshua you’re referring to was a false prophet who tricked his followers into believing a lie. That he actually staged his own death by bribing the Romans. I… I’m sorry sir. I don’t mean to offend you, but that’s what I’ve been taught since I can remember.”

“You would see Phillip as an infidel then?”

“We’re goyim, Ed,” I chuckled, remembering the time Elijah had called me that.

“That would be a gentile. Correct?”

“Yes sir. But I don’t really see Phillip as an infidel because I know he worships Hashem[1] the same as I do. I guess I don’t understand a lot of his faith, but I know in my heart that he serves Him.”

Ed put his arm around Elijah’s shoulder and guided him into the living room, leaving mom and me standing there. I took her hand in mine and we prayed together that Elijah would understand who we believed Jesus truly was, and that he too would one day become a believer in who we understood to be the messiah.

We stood in silence and listened to their conversation for a few moments. …well it wasn’t really a conversation. I wondered if Ed had finally met his match. He was very persuasive when he shared the gospel with someone, but Elijah, in keeping with his training, was not overmatched and was literally “arguing the scriptures” with him. They were both trying to mine understanding from the depths of their own biases, as well as persuade the other to their own viewpoint.

Mom smiled at me, and gave me a gentle nudge as I looked back the hallway toward my brother’s bedroom.

Knocking softly, first, I pushed open the door to my brother’s, room.

He was lying on his back, in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Mom’s been crying a lot,” he softly spoke without looking at me.

I sat down on the edge of his bed.

“What’s it like when you go on a date? Do people stare at you and make fun of you all the time?”

“Sometimes,” I gently whispered, recalling a few of the more poignant remarks that had been hurled our way in the past few weeks. “It’s not easy for a lot of people to understand why you want to hold another guy’s hand.”

“You really liked Michelle too, didn’t you?”

“We’re still good friends. She has another boyfriend. It was really hard for me for a while when I’d see them together.”

“Do you think she would’ve married you if it weren’t for Elijah?”

“I try not to think about it, Sam. She loves God, and I want her to be happy. I just try to be happy for her.”

Sammy’s brown eyes latched onto my own green ones, his gaze searching, I supposed, for the role model a big brother should be. “Do you remember when that guy came to our youth group and spoke about waiting until marriage?”

“Justin Thompson?”

“Yeah. You remember how you told mom and dad you made that promise before God to wait?”

At that moment, I was glad Elijah and I hadn’t given in to our desires for each other. “Almost the entire youth group took that pledge,” I said softly, wondering to myself how many of my peers had actually kept their promise.

“Do you think God ever forgets about stuff like that because you didn’t know what you were really saying?”

“Not likely, bro. Why?”

“Why didn’t you keep it, Phil?”

“The pledge?” I asked, beginning to understand why he was so sullen.

“Yeah.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

“That’s what gay guys do.”

“You mean have sex?”

“There’s this guy in my class at school, Leroy. He’s always bragging to everyone at school about being gay. He’s always trying to get guys to come over to his house so he can show them what it’s like. My friend Conner …well he told some of the guys not to get the wrong idea about him, but that he wanted to teach Leroy a lesson and was going to go to his house. The next day he admitted he’d been thinking about letting Leroy do what he said would do to him just to see what it was like. He said when he got there Leroy was… well he was doing stuff with someone else.

“So you kinda figured that’s how all gay people are?”

Sammy looked at me resignedly.

“Look, you like girls don’t you?”

“You mean instead of guys?”

“Yeah”

I watched my brother’s cheeks turn red.

“Do you think you’ll ever invite some random girl over here when mom and Ed are away so you can do something like that guy does with her?”

“Why would I do that?”

“My point exactly. Do you know any straight guys at school that would do that?”

“A couple… There’s this one guy in my gym class that brags about all the girls he’s done it with.”

“So you know a few sluts in your school, then …one gay and the rest straight?”

I could see Sammy wasn’t making the connection.

“Listen, little bro, my point is that some people think the world revolves around sex. It doesn’t matter if they’re straight or gay. Not everyone’s like that.”

“Does that mean you’ve kept you promise?”

“Except for kissing… Does that count?”

“That’s gross.”

“I don’t think the pledge included kissing, so the answer to your question is yes.”

“So you’re never gonna do anything?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Du-uh, two guys can’t get married.”

“Says who?” I asked as I lunged at him and started tickling his ribs.

“Phil, stop. Stop it.” Sam shouted through his giggling. “Please!”

“I don’t see in the bible where God ever said that two guys can’t get married to each other.”

Sam and I spent the next hour looking at and discussing what I understood the scriptures to actually say about same sex relationships, and as I got off his bed to go and see what Elijah was up to, my brother jumped off the bed and pulled me into a hug.

“Thanks, Phil, I kind of think that’s what mom’s been crying about. I think she thinks you and Elijah are like Leroy.”

“Thanks for the heads up, buddy boy. I’ll talk to her about it.”

“Phil?”

I paused at the door and looked back to Sammy, again sprawled across his bed, looking at the ceiling.

“You’re not… well like, you’re not gonna kiss him when we’re watching are you?”

“Would that be a problem for you if we did?”

Sammy paused to think. “I guess not. It might be a little weird, but I guess if you really like him like that, I’ll try to get used to it. Just try not to be too gross if you do it, okay?”

“Gotcha”