Between These Walls

by John Herrick

  “Why did you feel you needed to harbor this anguish inside rather than talk to someone?”

  “I was never sure who I could trust,” Hunter shrugged.

  “Not even in church?”

  “I thought about it. I looked around at my Bible study group and wondered which ones I could trust, but you never know for sure,” Hunter said. “People have good intentions, but when rubber meets the road, that’s when people reveal who they truly are. And that’s what my secret would bring to light: What happens when people hear about something that conflicts with the status quo, especially when they disagree with you or get to be the first ones to spread your secret? Some people will jab their fingers at you and make you feel worse, but never offer to listen to what’s going on. Other people gossip, but they pretend to do it in a caring way. They say things like, ‘You might want to keep Hunter in your prayers—oh, you haven’t heard? Yeah, it turns out he’s held this secret.’ And this secret of mine was too personal, too humiliating, to take that chance. So I kept it between God and me.”

  “As a pastor,” said Chuck, “did I do or say anything that made you feel you couldn’t come to me until today?” The sincerity in Chuck’s face let Hunter know Chuck’s words weren’t meant as a challenge. Rather, it reflected Chuck’s concern that he might have taken a wrong turn while leading his flock.

  “No,” replied Hunter, “but I figured you’d be disappointed in me. You saw me as a genuine Christian, and I am a genuine Christian, but it wouldn’t appear that way. I’d look like a hypocrite—I must look like a hypocrite, because I feel like a hypocrite.”

  “I know you, Hunter. I know you’re not a hypocrite. Why would you feel that way about yourself?”

  “Because dealing with being gay—gay isn’t considered part of what Christians usually stand for.” Hunter shook his head as his eyes retreated toward his knees again. “I’ve often looked at myself as the worst Christian in the world. It seems my life should be in better shape. Instead, I’ve concealed this dark side of me, whether I wanted it or not. I’ve kept quiet about this since I was young, and when I became a Christian, I thought I’d get cured. Jesus is supposed to change your whole life, right? So when I gave Him my heart, I’d also hoped it would eliminate my feelings and remove the issues from my life.”

  “I wish I could tell you it would. But the truth is, not all of our struggles disappear when we give our lives to Christ,” Chuck said. “Some do disappear, but others stick around. They become part of our journey, a journey we need to walk through whether we want to or not. As a Christian, you won’t have a perfect life, but you’ll have God’s peace as you voyage through it. You mentioned you can’t remember the last time you lived in peace. I understand what you’re saying; but at the same time, you’ve made it this far, haven’t you? You’ve found peace knowing you’re never alone. Sure, you might have felt alone with your peers, but you’ve always held Jesus close. Even in the darkest, lowest moments, you’ve known in your heart of hearts that He’s with you. Am I right about that?”

  Lately, Hunter had felt so bogged down with shame, he had overlooked God’s love. Even when he couldn’t run to anyone else or talk to them, he had kept his communication open with God because he knew he could trust God. As Hunter considered his pastor’s words, he found reassurance in them.

  “I suppose you’re right about that,” Hunter said. “I’ve never thrown in the towel and given up on life. I guess I trusted God enough to keep hanging on. I kept drawing close to Him when the battle got fierce.”

  “The truth is,” said Pastor Chuck, “you’re never alone. God knows your battles, He knows your shortcomings, and He loves you in the midst of them. He also understands.”

  “It’s hard to believe God can understand. He’s perfect, isn’t He?”

  “Jesus experienced life on earth as a human being with flesh like ours. When He rose from the dead and went to heaven, He went there as our high priest. He reminds God the Father of our vulnerabilities. He tells God—from firsthand experience—what it’s like for us as human beings, who try our best but don’t live up to perfection, and He reminds God that Jesus Himself paid the price for our shortcomings. That’s why the Bible tells us in the book of Hebrews that we have a high priest who understands our weaknesses. Does that make sense?”

  “It’s comforting, but it doesn’t change the isolation you feel while you’re step by step on your journey.”

  Chuck paused, smiled once again. “Hunter, look at me.”

  Hunter raised his head and met Chuck’s gaze.

  “You’re never alone,” said Chuck. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Hunter looked forward to tonight’s conversation least of all. But he knew they deserved to hear the truth from him before word spread through the grapevine. He murmured a quick prayer to God for strength.

  After leaving Chuck’s office, Hunter had called his parents to make sure they would be home tonight. He had something important to discuss with them, he’d said.

  It was Friday night. If his news caused them insomnia, at least they wouldn’t need to rise early for work the next morning.

  Heading to their front porch, a blast of winter breeze made Hunter feel encased in an ice cube. He let himself into the house and shed his coat. Compared to the frigid air outside, he almost broke a sweat in the heated foyer. With his first breath, he detected the familiar scent of home, a combination of dinner and his mother’s favorite potpourri, which she placed on various tables throughout the house.

  From the foyer, he heard clinking in the kitchen, where he found his mother loading dishes into the dishwasher. He leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek, a gesture he’d picked up as a youngster, a routine more than a display of affection, something they exchanged without thinking. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and gave him a hug. Between his parents, Hunter had always felt more comfortable around his mother, and her hug ushered in a sense that he’d come home.

  His gut quivered. She hadn’t a clue what the next hour would hold. This period in the kitchen would be the easiest and most peaceful of the evening.

  “It’s about time you stopped by,” she kidded. “How long has it been? A few weeks?”

  “Something like that. Sorry, the job hunt got me distracted.”

  “Well, at least you’re keeping busy. That’s a good thing. How about a glass of wine?”

  “No thanks,” Hunter replied, trying to maintain a casual tone.

  “I’m going to have a glass of wine,” she said, and proceeded to pull a bottle of Riesling from the refrigerator. She poured herself a glass. “Do you want to talk in here?”

  Hunter glanced at the kitchen table, where the chairs sat in close proximity. Much too close. As difficult as this talk would be, he preferred more space, where his face wouldn’t be inches from theirs when the inevitable awkwardness emerged.

  “How about the living room?”

  “Fine. Your dad’s working on the computer downstairs.”

  Upon reaching empty-nester status, Hunter’s parents had finished the basement, one room of which his father had converted into a man cave. Leading the way out of the kitchen, his mother poked her head through the door to the basement stairs.

  “Ed! Hunter’s here!” she said, then headed into the living room without waiting for an answer.

  When his mother took a seat on the sofa, Hunter opted to sit in the armchair, close enough but not too close for comfort. If they erupted with anger, at least he wouldn’t be engulfed from both sides. Hunter heard a pair of feet thudding up the basement stairs. Hunter’s father stopped halfway into the living room. Even in the middle of winter, Ed Carlisle went barefoot around the house. He had tucked a short-sleeved polo shirt into a pair of shorts in a manner which, to Hunter, resembled that of a gym teacher. He looked every bit the former athlete who could have gone professional.

  Hunter didn’t expect his father to handle the news well. His mother, on the other hand, would try to show Hunter he
r support, he figured, to whatever degree she might muster. But after some tough minutes, he felt confident both parents would give him reassurance. Whenever he’d made a mistake growing up, they had come around in short order. When nobody else accepts you, your family does. Or should.

  “Hunter, want a beer? I’m gonna grab one.”

  “No thanks, Dad.”

  “You don’t drink beer anymore?”

  With a shrug, Hunter replied, “I do. I just don’t feel like having one right now.” Not that Hunter didn’t suspect he would crave a glass of alcohol by the time this evening ended.

  When his father returned with a can in hand, he cracked it open, sat beside Hunter’s mother, and rested a foot on the opposite knee. “What’s the big news?”

  Hunter wondered how many of these awkward conversations he would endure in the months and years to come. How many relatives, friends and church acquaintances would ask? One by one, how many times would he need to recount his story and the background behind it? Maybe it would become routine. Maybe the repetition would numb him to the point where he could itemize the details while, in his mind, escaping the conversation.

  Hunter’s eyes dropped to his knees because he knew his parents would look straight at him. He didn’t want to catch sight of the disappointment in their eyes. This was hard enough.

  “I don’t know how to put this,” Hunter said as he kneaded a few of his fingers. “I, uh, didn’t think you should hear this from anyone else …” No doubt, talking to his parents was much tougher than talking to his pastor. “Something happened. Something … well, a romantic something, and I don’t think it’s something you’ll be thrilled about.”

  Hunter said nothing further, hoping he could gauge their reactions one step at a time. He eyed his parents, who stared at him with blank expressions on their faces, until revelation dawned upon his mother’s face and her eyes widened.

  “Oh my—Hunter, is Kara pregnant?”

  Her interpretation bewildered him. “What? No, it’s not—”

  “Hunter, if that’s what happened, we’ll do what we can to help.”

  “Of course we will. You know that, son,” his father chimed in.

  “Is she okay?”

  Hunter grew frustrated and held up his hands, palms out. “Hold on. Kara’s not pregnant. She’s fine.”

  “You two made such a cute couple. I know you mentioned you split up, but have you considered getting back together?”

  “What? We’re not getting back together.”

  “You never mentioned why you broke up, did you?”

  “She was a go-getter, that’s for sure,” his father said. “A spunky little thing.”

  “Yeah, she is, but—”

  “So you found another girl?” asked Hunter’s mother. “I’m sure any woman would love to have you. Maybe you should consider—”

  “Wait, stop! You don’t understand!” Hunter grunted in the sudden confusion. His frustration peaked. Exasperated, he brought his hand to his forehead, across his eyebrows. “I don’t want another—look, I think I might be gay.”

  Uh-oh.

  His stomach sank. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out.

  His parents clammed up before he had a chance to take his next breath. His mother’s eyes had fallen to her lap now. She kept her head tilted, the way she did when she found herself trying to comprehend how someone’s words had blindsided her. His father hadn’t moved a muscle, but a pointed look surfaced in his eyes.

  His mother shook her head. “Wait a minute, I—gay?”

  “I didn’t mean to say it that way.”

  “I don’t think there is a good way to say that,” his father said.

  “How did this happen?”

  “It’s complicated. I don’t even know. And I didn’t say I am gay, I just said I might be. I mean, I’m sorting it out.”

  His mother looked up. He had anticipated the incomprehension in her eyes. He hadn’t anticipated the pleading look that accompanied it. Tears began to well up in her eyes, and Hunter could see she fought to hold them back.

  His mother’s tears. He’d made his own mother cry. That knowledge pricked his heart.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” she said. “You’ve always liked girls, Hunter.”

  “I have, but there’s been another side to me that doesn’t make sense to me either. I’ve tried to fight it.”

  “Obviously, you have a little more left in the fight,” his father said, “because gay isn’t acceptable. That’s not how we do things in this family.”

  “How we do things?” Hunter said. “How we do things? This battle is all mine—believe me, it’s caused me plenty of grief.”

  “How long have you known?” said his mother in a tiny voice that suggested she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “I don’t know how this works. Did you decide a few months ago? Is that why you and Kara broke up?”

  “I didn’t decide anything. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just been there, ever since I was young.”

  “How young?”

  “I don’t know. Middle school, maybe. It’s just something that showed up. Or phased in. I didn’t exactly welcome it with open arms.”

  With a sigh, his father grimaced, then closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. “You said something happened. A few minutes ago, that’s what you said—something romantic happened. What happened?”

  “Kara found me with someone. Last night.”

  “She found you?”

  “She still had a key to my house and let herself in, and we were—together.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Just someone.”

  “Someone male?”

  Hunter sunk further into the chair. “Yes.”

  His mother looked toward a corner of the room and ran her finger along the bottom of her eye to remove the tear. “And was this a person you …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Nothing happened between us before, nothing like you’re thinking. I’d reached a dark season in my life, and this developed. I don’t even know how it developed.”

  “It seems there are a lot of things you don’t know about this.” His father.

  “Does he have a name?” asked his mother.

  “Mom, this is already difficult. I don’t want to go into every detail—”

  “I’m your mother. The least you can do is give me a name, don’t you think?”

  “Gabe.”

  “Gabe,” she whispered to herself, nodding, as though repeating the name would make the truth easier to accept. “Gabe.” At that, she stopped, and a look of awareness swept over her face. “Wait a minute, wasn’t that the name—when we ran into you outside the restaurant that night, so far away from here—wasn’t that boy’s name Gabe? Was that him?”

  “Yes.”

  “So this Gabe person, the one we met, the one you looked us straight in the eyes and said was a friend—you lied to our faces?”

  “I didn’t want to. We were trying to make sense of what was happening.”

  “And this Gabe is what,” his father asked, “your boyfriend now?”

  “He’s not my—neither one of us expected this. We’re figuring it out.”

  “Well then, that’s just great, isn’t it.” His face a deepening red, Hunter’s father shook his head. “I didn’t raise you this way. You’re not some Daisy Mae faggot. You’re my kid.”

  “Ed!”

  His mother’s rebuke toward his father arrived several words too late. The blade had already reached Hunter’s heart.

  Pastor Chuck had handled Hunter’s news well. Then again, maybe he had heard this revelation from others in the past. Hunter’s parents hadn’t—at least, not from one of their sons. Hunter noticed his parents had retreated from full eye contact to the occasional glance, where they didn’t focus on him for long. It was the kind of attention you forced yourself to give to someone because you needed to, not because you wanted to. Among the trio sitting in the living room, not o
ne of them was comfortable.

  “So Kara found you,” his mother said. “What happened afterward?”

  “We got into a major fight, then she stormed out the door.”

  “Did you ask her not to tell anyone?”

  “She caught me off guard when she walked into my house. I wasn’t exactly thinking several steps ahead—”

  “You can say that again,” his father tossed in.

  “—so no, I didn’t think of asking her. Not that she would’ve listened. I think Kara will do whatever Kara will do. She wasn’t thinking clearly when she left, either.”

  “I can imagine.” His father crossed his arms over his chest. “This wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done. If you weren’t interested in Kara, I don’t understand why you didn’t just wait it out and find another girl you are interested in.”

  Hunter found it fascinating how easy his situation appeared to those who had never experienced the fire of its pressure.

  “So it’s as simple as that? I just choose? How was I supposed to choose another girl that interests me?”

  “The same way you chose this Gabe person. You weren’t interested in guys before. If you snapped into it, you can snap out of it.”

  “I didn’t snap into it. It’s been going on for years. I was worn down to the point where it was hard to fight against it.”

  “Then you keep fighting anyway, Hunter. That’s the way we do things in this family. We fight it off.”

  “Dad, this isn’t helping.” Hunter didn’t know which was worse: derisiveness, by which he could read his father’s reaction, or silence, where he wouldn’t know where he stood in his father’s eyes.

  “The whole community will find out,” said his mother. “How are we supposed to handle it when people ask about it? They’re going to whisper. People we’ve known for ten years will gossip about us.”

  Hunter realized they could spend hours asking what-if questions, worrying about every possible scenario and every potential consequence. Hunter himself had spent most of his life in torment over such things.

  He didn’t know how to navigate through this conversation in a way that would bring resolution. He gathered his thoughts before speaking again.