by Z Brewer
A shadow blocked the sun for a moment. Brushing my hair from my eyes, I looked up to see the gardener who’d saluted me through the window yesterday. Up close, his hair was even oilier, and his skin looked sticky with sweat. I wondered when he’d last showered. I couldn’t help but notice he was wearing black snakeskin boots. What a strange thing to wear for groundskeeping. But then, he was a stranger.
The Stranger, I thought. It seemed a fitting nickname for him. A lit cigarette clung to his bottom lip. He held an open pack out to me with his nicotine-stained fingers.
I shook my head. “No thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“Oh, that’s right. Not here you don’t.” He slipped the pack inside the front pocket of his overalls and stood there, watching me like he was waiting for me to do something interesting.
“Quinn, why don’t you help me put these away?” Alice was standing near the van in the driveway with two large paper sacks in her arms, stuffed full of groceries.
When I turned back to the gardener to give him a polite goodbye, he was gone.
The grass tickled my ankles as I crossed the lush green lawn over to Alice and took one of the bags from her. It was heavier than it looked. As we stepped onto the porch, I swore I heard someone crying out. Pausing, I looked at Alice, who’d moved ahead of me and opened the screen door. “Did you hear that? It sounds like someone might be hurt.”
Alice held the door for me and gestured for me to go inside. She didn’t look fazed at all by the wailing that continued in the distance. “Sometimes the sounds of healing can seem like cries of pain. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands here. How did your first session with Dr. Hillard go?”
“Fine, I guess.” The moment the door shut behind us, I couldn’t hear the weeping anymore, but it lingered in my mind. “I was thinking about calling my brother today. Is that okay?”
“Certainly. Calls to family are allowed, so long as they’re supervised.”
We entered the kitchen, and I set the bag I’d been carrying down on the counter harder than I’d meant to. “Why can’t I have privacy? I mean, what’s my brother going to say that will harm my progress here?”
“It’s for your safety.”
What the hell was she implying? There were a lot of things somebody could poke at in my life, but when it came to my brother, I had a strict hands-off rule. “There is nothing on this planet safer for me than Kai.”
“I understand that this is upsetting for you, but I’m afraid that’s one of the rules, and we expect you to follow the rules with respect and without question.” She picked up the cordless phone on the counter and held it out to me with a pointed look. “You can call your brother now if you’d like.”
It took me almost a full minute to remember Kai’s phone number. It was so much easier to tap his name on a screen. It rang twice, and when my brother’s voice came through, my heart felt full. It was funny how quickly you could get homesick. “Talk to me, caller.”
“Hey, Kai.”
“Quinn? How’s it going, kiddo? Everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Alice was putting groceries away, but it was apparent that she had her ears perked for anything she deemed harmful. “How’s everything at home?”
“Fine. But . . . what do you mean you’re not sure?” His tone had shifted from happy-to-hear-from-me to concerned. Sometimes it felt like we shared a brain.
Right after Kai had moved out of the house and into the dorms, we’d come up with a code phrase that we’d use to let the other know that one or both of our parents were in the room. If I didn’t use the code, we could talk about the parties he went to and what college life was really like, without Mom or Dad worrying about Kai or how he might be influencing his little sister. After I got my cell phone in the middle of his freshman year, we stopped using the code, because I could call him from anywhere I wanted. I was just hoping Kai recalled the code and didn’t think I was losing my mind. “Did you forget to eat again?”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Somebody is listening in on our conversation, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.”
“Got it. Do they keep a tight watch on you there?”
“Yeah.”
“I wish you . . . never mind. It’s not important and it’s too late anyway.” I could hear the frustration and disappointment in his voice. He didn’t want to make me feel stupid for having come here, but it was clear he hadn’t wanted me to leave home. “I saw Lia this morning, when I stopped to get gas. She wanted me to tell you she misses you already. What’s it like there?”
Alice opened the pantry next to me and put away several cans of food. She sure was taking her time with the groceries. “It’s all right so far.”
“Translation: this place sucks donkey balls. Am I close?”
“Definitely.” More than I can even say. “Hey, could you tell Mom that I miss her too? I’ve been thinking a lot about her.”
He paused for a beat and then said, “I assume that’s a message for Lia. Anything else you want me to tell her next time I see her?”
I wet my lips, pressing the receiver closer to my mouth. “Yeah. Tell her I love her.”
“Quinn . . .” He sounded worried. I wondered if he had good reason to be. “Are you safe?”
“I don’t know, Kai. I don’t think so.” Alice met my eyes and tapped her wrist, indicating that my time was up. “I’ll talk to you more later, okay?”
“You’d better. Be safe, kiddo.”
As I hung up, an intense feeling of loneliness washed over me. More and more, it was clear that this wasn’t the right place for me, but I was surer than ever that I wouldn’t be welcome back at home. My parents were paying to keep me here. At least until I was whatever they considered to be well.
Alice was back to her smiling self. “I hope everything’s okay at home.”
“It is. Thank you. It was nice to talk to my brother. We’re really close.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be reunited soon enough.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “The morning seems to have gotten away from me. It’s time for Reckoning.”
“Reckoning?” The word felt heavy on my tongue.
“It’s a time of sharing. I think it’ll be good for you. Half the group meets after lunch, but I think this prelunch group would be a better fit.” She led me down the hall to the right and through a set of French doors. The walls were painted soft blue with white trim, and the floor was covered with soft gray carpeting. Seated in a half circle on the floor were Susan, Collins, and Caleb. Several fluffy pillows lay all around. The room felt comforting. Welcoming.
Not at all like the kind of place where the sounds of healing imitated cries of pain.
Alice knelt on one of the pillows and eased herself onto the floor. After I’d followed her lead, she said, “Caleb, why don’t you begin?”
“Okay. Umm . . .” Caleb fiddled with the ring he was wearing on his right hand—a silver cross. His fingers were trembling. “Since my last Reckoning, I’ve had . . . impure thoughts . . . about another guy.”
The intense self-loathing that I’d seen in his eyes before he and Lloyd had walked up the basement stairs together the night before was gone—replaced by a glint of curiosity. It made my heart feel lighter to see it.
Alice said, “How did you feel afterward?”
Caleb took a moment to really examine his thoughts before speaking them aloud. “I thought I’d feel sick. I thought I’d feel shame. But I didn’t. I just felt . . . reflective.”
There was a long silence before Alice spoke again. When she did, her tone was dripping with judgment. “Did you give in to temptation in any way?”
“Um . . .” Again, he seemed to mull over her question some before responding. I would’ve bet just about anything he was thinking impure thoughts about Lloyd right now, and whatever had happened after they’d left the basement. The corner of his mouth lifted very briefly, but he seemed to catch it and went back to fiddling with his ring. “Not really, no. But
I’m still . . . tempted.”
“Admitting that is very brave, Caleb. Choosing to engage in homosexual conduct is a sin, but with dedication to treatment, your sins can still be forgiven. Don’t lose faith. Don’t stray from God’s path. Your soul can still be saved from the fires of eternal damnation.” She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. His fingers stopped shaking, and his eyes were awash with shame once again. Alice patted his hand and sat back on her pillow. “Susan?”
Susan crossed her arms in front of her, her lips a thin, defiant line.
Alice said, “You know what the repercussion is for refusing to participate.”
“What repercussion?” I thought again of the cry I’d heard and the scars on Lloyd’s back.
Alice flashed me a dark glance. “It’s Susan’s turn, Quinn. Please respect her time. Now, Susan, you were saying?”
Susan sat up straight and stared Alice down. “To be honest, since my last Reckoning, I’ve decided I don’t care what you’re going to do to me. Despite what you may think, it’s normal to be asexual, and I wouldn’t change that part of me even if I could. I like being me. God made me how I am. And I refuse to ask for God’s forgiveness when I’m not the least bit sorry.”
She and Alice locked eyes for a long time in silent conversation. Whatever was being said in that span of quiet, Susan wasn’t about to back down. Finally, Alice moved her attention to Collins. “Collins, why don’t we hear from you now?”
Collins cleared his throat. “Well, since my last Reckoning, I haven’t had any impure thoughts or actions. I think I’m getting better.”
“Wonderful progress! Thank you for sharing.” Her eyes had lit up at his admission but dimmed some when she turned them on me. It was as if she knew she’d be disappointed in my progress before I uttered a word. But how could I have made any progress in the day that I’d been here? That would be asking for . . . well . . . a miracle. “Quinn?”
I felt like everyone was staring at me, even though I could see that they weren’t. Nerves are a strange thing. Still, I couldn’t shake that sensation of being watched. “Umm . . . this is my first Reckoning. I’m not sure I—”
“This is the time to share any sinful deeds you may have done in the past twenty-four hours. Just be open, honest, and forthright. After all, if you aren’t, God will know.” Looking up to meet her stare, I noticed a cross hanging on the far wall. It was intricate in design, with curved metal around tiny gems. I wondered how God would feel about someone bedazzling an effigy of the place where his son had died.
“I don’t think I’ve sinned. I mean, if I have, I haven’t noticed.”
“You need to take this seriously, Quinn.” She was looking at me like I was being defiant. I really wasn’t. Clueless maybe. But defiant? Not even a little.
I said, “I am. I just can’t think of anything I’ve done since yesterday that feels sinful.”
Beside me, Susan snorted, garnering a glare from Alice, who said, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23.”
Lloyd cracked open the door long enough to poke his head in and say, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The sinners are much more fun. Joel, 1977. See? I can throw out arbitrary quotes too.”
Alice barked, “Out!”
With a smirk, Lloyd left.
“What’s your sin?” I said. I hadn’t noticed the crease in her forehead before, or the way she drew her eyebrows in when she thought she was being challenged. But I noticed them now.
“Excuse me?”
I said, “If everybody has sinned, then why aren’t you sharing yours?”
It took me a moment to recognize the look in her eyes. It seemed so familiar. Then it hit me. She looked at me now the way she usually looked at Lloyd. Which meant she apparently didn’t like me very much. Not at the moment, anyway. “You’re new here, so I’m going to give you a pass for speaking out and not participating, but it will be the first and last time. The next time you behave in this manner, there will be repercussions.”
The room had grown quiet. Even Susan seemed to sink within herself. This felt more like a cage of fear than a place of redemption. I didn’t break eye contact with Alice. She owed us all an answer if she expected the same from us.
Regaining her composure, Alice plastered a smile on her face. “Thank you all for joining together in Reckoning. Caleb and Collins, you’ll share in kitchen duties this evening. Susan, once we’re finished here, you’ll come with me for additional treatment. And Quinn . . .”
I was still watching her. Still waiting for an answer that she would never give.
As she stood, she said, “You’ll retire to your room after dinner and call it an early night.”
“Am I being punished for not having anything to say?” I didn’t think that was it, exactly. It seemed to me that I was being admonished for not digging deep to identify any of my actions as sins, even if they weren’t.
“You’re being encouraged to adhere to the rules.” Her smile spread to her eyes. She was in charge of the narrative once again, which was right where her comfort zone lay. “Enjoy your lunch, everyone. I’ll see you all at dinnertime. Susan will see you in the morning. Now get to lunch and don’t forget to say the blessing.”
The room emptied, and I took a breath before stepping through the door. I could hear voices chatting on the front porch, so I followed them.
Lloyd was sitting on the top step, holding court. “I’m just saying, if ‘Doctor’ Hillard and Alice got laid more often, maybe they’d be in better moods.”
“You’re disgusting.” Randall could barely contain his laughter. His skin had flushed pink, as if he were embarrassed at how much he agreed with Lloyd.
“And proud. Don’t forget proud.” Valerie let out a chuckle. It put a grin on Lloyd’s face and sent Randall over the edge in a fit of laughter.
Lloyd looked up at me, his grin never wavering. “Hey, Quinn.”
“Hey.” As I took a seat on the step beside him, Collins exited the house and sat on one of the rocking chairs on the porch. There was no sign of Caleb.
From her place beside Randall on the bottom step, Valerie said, “Sorry I couldn’t join the game last night. I heard Lloyd cleaned you guys out. Little tip? He has a tell. Any time he’s lying, the corner of his mouth twitches.”
“Hey, now. Don’t you be giving away all my dirty little secrets.” He nudged her shoulder with his toe, which she playfully slapped away. When he met my eyes, I was struck again by how handsome he was. No wonder Caleb had a thing for him. “So, what’s your story, Quinn?”
“What do you mean?”
Lloyd’s smile was genuine and kind. His mind was as open as it was dirty. “Which letter in the LGBTQIA-plus spectrum suits you best? Or are there multiples?”
Valerie gave his leg a light smack. “Lloyd! You’re so nosy. It’s none of our business.”
I hadn’t noticed I’d been fidgeting with my bracelet until that moment. “Well . . . I wonder if I’m gay or not. I mean, I have a girlfriend—”
Randall interjected, “There’s your first clue.”
“—but I’m just not sure.”
Lloyd watched me for a moment, as if taking in my every word and examining each with precision and care. His tone was warm when he spoke again. “You don’t have to be sure about anything or to defend your truth to any of us, Quinn. To anyone. But especially not us. We’re on the same side.”
My heart felt full at that moment. I’d never been surrounded by people who were so accepting, so supportive. My friends back home were great, but I never felt okay sharing my deepest secret with any of them. That I’d found this group of friends in a place like this astounded me, but I felt safe with them. Accepted. Understood.
“There’s another thing. But I’ve never talked about it before.” No one—not even Kai—knew about the feelings I’d had, more and more lately, that something about me was different. And I wasn’t sure what anyone would say if I told them that som
etimes I wondered if maybe my body didn’t quite fit my mind.
Randall shook his head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Everyone fell silent for a bit, until, finally, Lloyd cleared his throat and offered me an apologetic look. “Let’s start over. What’ve you been up to since breakfast? Seeing the sights? Riding the rides?”
“I talked to Dr. Hillard for a while. Then I went to Reckoning. They’re . . .” I glanced behind me to be certain no staff were within earshot. “They’re really religious here, aren’t they?”
Any semblance of a smile left Valerie’s slender face. “This place isn’t run by religious people. It’s run by people who use religion to control, influence, bully, and abuse people with traits they don’t agree with. I mean, think about it. If you’re questioning certain things about yourself, that’s fine. It’s normal to question things. What’s not normal is to expect to find the answers you’re looking for in a place where questions are forbidden.”
From his place on the porch, Collins decided to chime in. “You shouldn’t talk that way, Jeffrey. They’re just trying to help us.”
Lloyd snapped, “Bullshit they are. And fuck you for deadnaming Valerie.”
The edges of Collins’s tone burned with resentment. “You should ask for forgiveness, Lloyd.”
“From who?”
“From God!”
Lloyd stood so fast, I thought he was going to seriously hurt Collins. I jumped up between them. Lloyd tried to get past me, but I placed my hands on his chest and pushed back as hard as I could. It didn’t knock him back, but at least it held him still while he growled at Collins. “I don’t believe in God! That pisses some people off, but it’s true. If you believe in a deity, that’s fine. But don’t force your views on me, and don’t tell me that the assholes in this fascist prison camp for wayward queers are capable of anything except trying to pray the gay away!”