“And so in the end, you and Joel consummated your feelings, regardless of the fact that it is considered a sin by our Judeo-Christian heritage?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“And now, we think Tom will probably have to leave home, one way or the other,” Joel said.
“That does seem to be logical,” the minister said. “And you’re not afraid of that, Tom?”
Tom smiled and looked at Joel and Bill Hoffins. “No.”
“And what about you, Joel?” The minister turned to him. “Don’t you think you two are a little young to be.ah.living together.as a couple?”
Joel felt a surge of anger. “That’s right, living together,” he said proudly. “Kinda like being married. We can take care of ourselves, sir. My sisters got married right out of high school, and—”
“But they have husbands to take care of them. Isn’t that right?”
“Yessir. But—”
“And you two boys think that because you love each other.you, Tom, even though it goes against your beliefs, and you, Joel, even though you haven’t even got a diploma.you think you can survive? You think your love can stand the test of all this?”
Joel felt himself growing more angry. But everyone was smiling and being so polite, as if they were having a friendly disagreement about a movie, that he tried to relax. “We don’t have any choice now, sir, if you will excuse me. Tom doesn’t have anybody but me.”
“That’s true, Mr. Suskine,” Tom said. “I’m not going back to the way I was. I told you I couldn’t get over the feelings. I tried, and it just makes me out to be a liar.”
The Rev. Suskine put his hands together, touching the tips of his fingers, forming an inverted vee, and touched them to his lips. He studied first Joel, who felt himself sweating, then Tom. “I hope you boys don’t think too badly of me, taking you both to task about all this. You see, Tom, you are absolutely right. Your particular brand of religion is very harsh. It comes straight from Martin Luther, and was later influenced strongly by Puritans in this country. In fact, it sounds like your father’s particular doctrine is what we refer to as literalist.”
“Yessir.”
“But I think there may be more hope here than I’ve let on. I only wanted to rough you up a little, because…well…I would be remiss in letting you think you have to give up your beliefs because you are homosexual. We often lose sight of our human side, particularly when the Bible is translated so strictly. Freedom of belief is a characteristic of our Unitarian Community. That’s important, boys. We don’t necessarily think the injunctions against homosexuality in the scripture you have referred to are so clear-cut.”
Tom sat up as if he were about to jump out of his chair. “You don’t?”
Joel watched the minister’s face, amazed that a preacher could act so calm about sex. He felt himself relax a little. He was more inclined to listen if that were true.
“It does bother me that you two are so young. It bothers me that Joel apparently has not been conscious of being homosexual until you came along, Tom. And I predict that his father has probably expressed the notion that he is just going through a phase. That particularly bothers me, Joel, because Bill has told me that you are a virgin. Are you sure that you aren’t just feeling attached to Tom because he has provided sexual release for you?”
“That’s a fair question,” Coach said. “Joel?”
Joel thought hard about that. He felt like he was under a microscope peering out from under a glass, being blinded by a light so bright under the calm gaze of the preacher and the coach that he felt tears burning his eyes. Without being conscious that he was doing it, he took Tom’s hand, but only became aware of it when
Tom squeezed it. He took a deep breath. “It’s just so hard to describe what Tom does for me. Sure, we have sex. We love each other, sir. But jacking…masturbating is a release when I’m horny.” He felt himself turning red. “But guys have always made me feel neat. I just didn’t know you could feel so great having sex with a guy. I did it once with another guy, a long time ago. I mean, he did it to me. And it’s true I never did it with a girl. But it was so nothing when I used to date. I’ve kissed a few, and I swear it was like kissing my sisters on the cheeks or something. But with Tom it was different. Kissing, I mean.” There was no way not to focus on the minister and he stopped finally, waiting for this man to respond.
The minister smiled at him, a warm smile, and nodded. “Crudely put, Joel, but I believe you.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, Joel,” he said, smiling a little less. “Your troubles are just beginning. I only hope that in a few years, all the men and women like you and Tom can come to grips with this problem. As I’m sure you’re both aware, you wouldn’t be any worse off if you had leprosy. But you two do have something. That’s quite obvious. I think I’m a fair judge of character, and I say that you both are admirable young men. Every time a young couple comes to me wanting to get married, I always grill the hell out of them. I don’t see, in these times, why you young people are so damned eager to get married. I’ve seen early marriages fall apart as soon as unromantic things like income and work enter in. There’s no way to avoid responsibility once the bills start piling up. And the great love that brings couples together soon dies a horrible death. But in your case, nobody cares. Society has no place for you. There is no rejoicing when two people of the same sex decide to live together as a so-called married couple. And it’s far easier to break up. In large cities, you can get sexual release without the least emotional commitment to your sexual partners.”
A gust of hot wind blew through the patio. The umbrella over the table caught it and shook everything. The pitcher of lemonade rattled on the tray and almost fell over. Bill reached out and held it until the wind passed. He laughed. “Boys, excuse me. I think I’ll take this indoors. JoAnna’s always accusing me of being a bull in a china shop. I wouldn’t want her to think I broke this.”
When he was gone, the minister took charge again. “The important thing is, when it comes to homosexuality, you have no reason to be committed to each other, because there is no binding commitment—legal or spiritual—in the eyes of the law and the church. That was going to be my main point. The injunctions against homosexuality in the Bible are just that. That there is no commitment, no binding.”
“You mean,” Tom said, “that the scriptural references to lust, giving up natural affection, and all that are sins because it produces nothing, other than sexual release?”
“Exactly.” He smiled. “If you two could be loving and faithful to each other, why would you think it’s a sin? Wouldn’t it be far worse, in your mind, Tom, to marry a woman and yet not be loving and faithful? I’m glad that Bill has left us alone. Never tell anyone that he has stuck his neck out for you. Luckily, he’s brought us together. As a minister, my major concern is that your relationship with Joel enhance you as a human being. Sorry, Joel. Bill tells me you are staunchly unreligious. That’s okay. If you would allow Tom his needs in this area, I would consider it a privilege to remain a friend to both of you.”
“Well, sure,” Joel said. “I was always sorry that Tom was losing so much to be with me. “I’d be glad to go to church at your place if it would help him. Would you like to do that, Tom?”
The minister spoke up quickly. “Before you consider that, Joel, Tom will have to do some reading about my church. It’s not the same as his.” He turned to Tom. “You’re welcome, of course, to visit. Whether you will feel satisfied is of concern. I have some literature I often give out to visitors, concerning Jesus’ deity for example. We are non-creedal about Jesus’ mission and the Trinity question. You may be bothered by that.”
Tom was still holding onto Joel’s hand. He squeezed it. “I think it helps, Mr. Suskine, knowing I have a place to go sometimes if I need it, especially after meeting you.”
* * *
Before they left Coach’s house, Joel made a point of thanking JoAnna and
Coach. They were sitting at the little kitchen table when he came in through the back door. He had left Tom with the Rev. Suskine, who had continued to talk religion with Tom. And although Joel was glad for Tom, he didn’t want to sit through it. JoAnna made him sit down. Coach offered him a beer, but Joel declined. “That guy is neat, Coach. He’s the preacher at your church?”
Bill laughed. “Yes. Sometimes. Common is too small to support a full-time minister. He travels a lot in this area. We were lucky to have him today.” He waved his hand. “We hope he helped a little, even though you say you and Tom are friends again.”
“Friends,” Joel said. “And thanks, you guys. I just wish I could do something to return your favor.”
Bill winked at him. “Come back to the team. We need you, Joel.”
“Well, gee, Coach, I’ll think about that! I really will.”
Part Three
Man is born with his hands clenched;
he dies with his hands wide open.
Entering life he desires to grasp everything;
leaving the world, all that he possessed has slipped away.
The Talmud
CHAPTER 15
Monday, June 14
Edna Stroud wet her finger and tapped the stove top. It sizzled. Hot enough. She took a coffee can from the greasy shelf above the stove, dipped out a spoonful of lard, and pushed it around on the hot surface until a sheen of oil covered it. Before it could begin smoking and burning, she stirred the batter in the bowl once more and poured six pancakes on the oil. Since there was no way to regulate the heat, she worked quickly, flipping the pancakes once, then scooping them off onto a plate. She did this until the bowl was empty. That done, she opened the door below the stove top and pushed the burning wood around. On the same surface she cooked eggs and sausage. Occasionally, she checked the coffee to make sure it wouldn’t boil over.
She was almost happy enough to sing, but she didn’t. When she removed the last of the food from the stove, she walked quickly to the bedroom and shook Henry. “Get up, Henry. I got a good breakfast, nice and hot.”
Henry rolled over and pulled the covers over his head. “God damn it, Edna—”
She jerked the covers off. “Up, Henry! You lazy bum!” She pounded on the boys’ door. “Boys! Up! Breakfast!”
In the kitchen again, she washed off the oilcloth on the table and set it. She set a can of Log Cabin syrup on the hot stove to melt its sugary consistency, and just before it boiled she removed it and set it on the table.
Eddie was the first one who came in. “Gosh, Ma. That smells good.”
She smiled at him. “Thought you could use it.”
Henry stumbled through the door, scratching his head. He sat down at the table and reached for the food. He piled his plate, stealing glances at his wife. “You shore outdid yourself Edna.”
She smiled at him. “T’weren’t much. Thanks to Mrs. Reece. She give us eggs and milk and some sausage.” Then she held the hot pot of coffee over Henry, daring him to bad-mouth the Reeces. “You got anything ta say to that?”
He eyed the steam rising from the old battered pot and grunted. “What for? Reece. He’s a strange one awright. Wants to hire my children ta work, I ain’t agin’ that. If he does what he say he’ll do, I’ll do my part. I’m a decent man.”
The rest of the children wandered in wide-eyed, as if it were Thanksgiving. The twins had bathed and dressed for work. Edna stood between their chairs and piled their plates. “Don’t turn down your lunch at the Reeces’, boys, and be polite.” Sally and little Henry sat next to their mother, and Eddie sat next to Kenneth’s empty chair. Edna looked around at her brood, feeling like laughing and crying at the same time. Only Kenneth’s refusal to eat food the Reeces had given them hurt her. He’d be hungry too! She wanted to cry for him, as she listened to the sounds the other children were making over the breakfast.
When their bellies were full, little Henry, Sally Ann, and Eddie went off to play. The twins sat with her and their father a few more minutes feeling important; then they left, because they had to walk the two miles or so to the Reeces’ place.
When Edna had told them about their jobs, they couldn’t believe it: “A dollar every hour! Mama! We gonna be rich!” She smiled at their childish wonder, not wanting to tell them the pay wasn’t much. But she felt rich as well. Even Henry, she saw with some satisfaction, had lost his belligerence, and even though he tried to cover it over with meanness, he had worked all afternoon the day before on the pickup. He’d even thanked Douglas Reece before they left. Even snuffled a little when Douglas had returned later with a radiator and some tools. It was late in the evening when he finished. Patrick and Detrick came in for supper, joking and laughing. “We did it, Ma. Got it fixed for ya! Pa says it’ll run as good as ever!”
Like all things in their household, though, her pleasure was shortlived. Kenneth came in from a deep sleep brought on by the rotgut he drank. He looked around the kitchen at the scraps of their big breakfast. “Had me a steak th’other day and you kin bet I didn’t suck the Reeces for it!”
She moved out of his way as he stepped closer. She gathered up the dishes and watched him pour a cup of coffee. She wasn’t going to argue and just stared, waiting for him to move away from the stove.
“You like that, Ma? Suckin’ up to people?”
She didn’t answer.
“You like havin’ your church friends come into this rattrap? You like them laughin’ at you? I know ‘em, Ma!” He set the coffeepot back on the stove and took a sip as he leaned against the sink. He ran his hands over the edge of the cup, then launched himself away from the sink and came up to her.
She felt herself flinch, but refused to be cowed. “Eva give us that coffee too. You like the way it tastes?”
He looked down at the mug and shrugged. His bloodshot eyes narrowed to slits. “Big shit, Ma,” he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “They give us shit for the truck but I ain’t th’one stuck his nose up old man Reece’s ass for it!” Tears welled in his eyes.
In an instant she was next to him, wanting to touch his cheek. “Kenny, honey…Let it go. What’re you fightin’ so hard for all the time?”
She reached up, but he backed away. “Don’t! Goddamn you!”
“They’s only tryin’ to help us. That’s all. They’s—”
“Shut up! Jes plug your fuckin’ mouth!” He threw the mug of coffee into the sink where it clattered, shattering the plates, and went through the door into the living roShe heard Henry and Kenneth begin arguing and squeezed her hands over her ears. Hot tears burned her face. She felt faint and reached out to break her fall. They were yelling now, then the front door slammed, followed by the sound of the pickup starting up.
“Goddamn it!” Henry screamed, and the front door slammed again as he roared after Kenneth. He came back in, breathing hard and cussing. He began drinking then, cussing and waiting. “I’ll show that bastard who’s the goddamn boss of this place, goddamn if I won’t!”
Edna didn’t try to stop him from drinking, thinking maybe he would pass out, but as the morning wore on she became more nervous. She tried to work, feeling dread that Kenneth had stayed away so long. What if he wrecked the pickup again? Several times she had tried to talk with Henry to get his mind off Kenneth, but he was too far gone to be reasoned with. He just sat in the living room waiting, drinking, getting madder, his mood getting blacker and blacker. She checked on the children several times, seeing that they weren’t getting into mischief, and went on working, a little on edge, unable to shake the bad feeling that nothing Douglas Reece could do would bring Kenneth around. She still thought jail would cool him off.
Around ten-thirty, Kenneth came squealing into the yard as drunk and hateful as Edna had feared he would be. She was hanging out wash when he drove up. He was spoiling for a fight now and even yanked some of the clothes off the line; he rubbed his dirty Levi’s against her church dress, leaving a black scar on it. He laughed. “Who gives a shit, M
a? We ain’t nothin’ but trash. You think that fuckin’ church gives a flying black shit about you?” He stumbled toward the house and fell against the pickup. Right there in front of her he pissed on the ground. She felt dirty passing by him. She hid her eyes, but could feel his drunken gaze fixed on her and it made her shiver.
She hurried indoors, fighting back the urge to cry out. She would get the children and they would leave right now, before things crashed down around them all. Intending to do just that, she found the rest of her children playing; she tried to herd them together into the kitchen, but her excitement scared them and she only managed to make them scatter. In the front yard, Kenneth and Henry began fighting in earnest. She looked at them from the living room. They were tugging drunkenly on the door of the driver’s side of the pickup. Henry was outside and Kenneth was sitting in the seat. Henry screamed, his voice a blood rage: “I said you ain’t goin’!”
Kenneth pushed roughly on the door and sent Henry sprawling, but he crawled back, managing to get half in before Kenneth kicked him out again. Henry ran into the house, grabbing up the shotgun, which was still leaning against the wall by the front door.
“I’ll teach that bastard!” He tore open a box of shells and pushed two into the chamber.
“No! Henry!” Edna ran after him, but she was too late. He stormed out into the yard, waving the shotgun wildly, weaving on his heels, aiming for the tires.
Kenneth jumped out and made a grab for the barrel.
From somewhere, Eddie appeared next to Kenneth. “Kenny?” he called. Edna ran out, leaving Sally Ann and Henry, Jr., on the couch. They looked out the window in horror, and Henry, Jr. jerked at the sound of a loud blast. Seconds later, another blast.
Henry, Jr. grabbed Sally Ann, pulled her into the kitchen, and ran with her out the kitchen door. “Keep quiet!” he whispered. She was twisting against his arm, trying with her small hands to pull his hands off her mouth. He pulled her into the bushes near the road under the tarp that Eddie had played under. He listened for the sound of Kenneth coming to get them. His heart was pounding and he had peed in his pants, but he didn’t move. Indoors he heard things crashing to the floor. Beneath him, Sally was crying. Her tears slicked his hand and he pulled it away. “Please, Sally, keep quiet!”
Common Sons Page 28