Second You Sin

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Second You Sin Page 31

by Scott Sherman


  Locke would devote his life to a ministry that emphasized love, kindness, and acceptance. The main focus of his work would be to heal the divide between gay and straight people.

  If not, I reminded him, Jason wasn’t the only one who knew his secrets.

  And then I told a fib.

  I said that what led me to him was that, before he died, Sammy White Tee put a copy of his taped encounter with Locke in the mail to me. A copy I kept somewhere safe.

  I told Locke that now that I knew it was Jason making him say anti-gay things, I was relieved that I’d never have to tel another soul about the tape.

  I didn’t exactly threaten him, but I knew Locke was smart enough to see that keeping his end of our bargain would be the best course for him.

  Maybe Locke would have done the right thing on his own. Or, maybe he needed someone to control him. Hel , maybe he got off on it.

  Don’t ask me. I only completed the first semester of that Intro to Psychology class. I might know what works with guys, but I don’t always know why.

  I did know, however, that the person who hurt my friends would never hurt anyone again.

  And, whether for the right reasons or not, Locke was going to use his considerable powers to make the world a better place.

  Overal , I thought, things turned out rather wel .

  After I gave the police my statement, two nice officers drove me home. They offered to take me to a hospital, but I hadn’t been hurt. Al I wanted was to shower and crawl into bed.

  The shooting in Locke’s office was going to be big news. Luckily, at Locke’s insistence, my name would be kept out of it.

  Locke was a powerful man with a lot of influence.

  My participation in the evening’s activities would appear only in sealed court records. I’d be left out of the public story altogether.

  Whether Locke was protecting himself or me, I couldn’t say.

  Having washed every bit of Jason off me (I threw the clothing I’d been wearing into my building’s incinerator; they’d never feel clean again), I was more than ready for bed. In fact, I just hoped I made it there—fal ing asleep in the shower seemed like a distinct possibility.

  Then, my phone rang.

  It was 2:30 in the morning. Who’d be cal ing? I was glad cal er ID prepared me before I picked up.

  “I’m OK,” I said by way of greeting.

  “What happened?” Tony asked. “I got a cal from one of my friends at the precinct. You were involved in a shooting?”

  “That was supposed to be a secret,” I told him.

  “Yeah, wel , you had to know I’d find out, right?”

  On any other night, it probably would have been some huge emotional moment for me to be hearing Tony’s voice again. As it was, I was so tired and numb that I couldn’t even muster up a vague sense of longing. I just wanted to sleep.

  “Listen,” I told him. “I asked you not to contact me until you knew where you wanted to take things with me.”

  “These are kind of special circumstances, Kevin.

  It’s not every day you get involved in a murder.” He paused. “OK, in your case—”

  I cut him off. “I appreciate your concern, Tony. I do.

  But I’m fine. I’m just real y tired and I’m going to bed.

  Thanks for cal ing, but don’t do it again.”

  I turned off my phone and went to bed.

  45

  Here We Are at Last

  The next time I opened my eyes, my bedside clock read 9:40 AM. I tried to go back to sleep, but my head was racing with images and sounds from the previous evening. Locke. Jason.

  Tony.

  The night before, I’d been overwhelmed by sheer physical exhaustion. In the morning, with sunlight sneaking through my blinds, the horrors of what I’d been through started to sink in.

  I’d almost been kil ed.

  I saw a man who was.

  My mother was on ViewTube.

  Oy.

  I’m not sure if I buy the old adage that idle hands are the devil’s playthings, but I was pretty certain that sitting around dwel ing on what had happened wasn’t going to help me. Luckily, it was Sunday. Although I’d gotten up too late to make morning services, if I hurried, I could get to church on time to colead my Sunday school class.

  The kids were probably the best medicine for me, anyway.

  I arrived at church ten minutes early and helped Cindy set up. The kids hugged me as they filed in, and, sure enough, each embrace chased the shadows a little further away.

  When Nick and Paul arrived to drop off Aaron, they hugged me, too. As did Aaron, who excitedly introduced me to a little boy I hadn’t seen there before.

  “Dis is my fwiend, Rafi,” he said, pushing the little boy forward.

  I crouched down to meet him at eye level. “Hi, Rafi,” I said. “I’m Kevin.”

  Rafi looked at his shoes. “Hi,” he told them.

  “He’s a little shy,” Paul whispered.

  “That’s OK,” I said, stil looking at Rafi. “I’m a little shy sometimes, too. But after a while, I real y like making new friends. Aaron, why don’t you show Rafi where the building blocks are?”

  Aaron took him by the hand and the boys went off together to explore.

  “You guys aren’t auditioning a new kid to adopt, are you?” I asked.

  Nick laughed. “No.”

  “Too bad. He’s a cutie.”

  “He real y is,” Nick agreed.

  “So’s his daddy,” Paul added.

  “Hey!” Nick elbowed Paul in the ribs.

  “What?” Paul shrugged. “I can’t look?”

  “Not,” Nick said, giving him the death stare, “if you want to live.”

  “Al righty, then,” Paul said, taking him by the arm.

  “We better get back to the chapel. See you later, Kevin.”

  I turned back to the kids with a smile on my face.

  A smile.

  Who’d have thunk it?

  As usual, the kids were great. By the end of our hour together, I realized I hadn’t thought about Tony, or my mother, or Jason, or Locke the entire time. I knew I was going to have to process it eventual y, but when I did, I knew it wouldn’t kil me. I’d be ready.

  It was hard to feel hopeless when surrounded by so much hope. Not to sound al Whitney Houston about it, but I real y do think that’s the magic of children. They remind us of the good that’s possible in the world, and they inspire us to make it real.

  Nick and Paul were the last parents to pick up their kid. By then, Cindy had already left and it was just me, Aaron, and Rafi playing with toy trains. Rafi had warmed to me pretty quickly and was sitting in my lap when Nick and Paul arrived at the door.

  “Hey, guys,” I said. “You taking Rafi, too?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said. “He’s coming over for a playdate.”

  “Yay!” Aaron said. He and Rafi traded high fives.

  “Too bad,” I said, teasing. “I was hoping to meet the cute dad.”

  Rafi giggled at that. I ruffled his hair.

  “Actual y,” Paul said, a big grin on his face, “his dad was hoping to see you, too.”

  Oh no, I thought. If these two were planning on fixing me up with someone, I didn’t even have the words to tell them how not ready I was.

  I had to try, though. “Guys,” I said, “I’m real y not up to . . .”

  But when Paul stepped aside and Rafi’s father walked into the room, my mouth stopped moving.

  So did my heart.

  “Daddy!” Rafi cried with glee, jumping out of my lap and into his arms.

  Tony scooped Rafi up like he was weightless.

  “Hey, sport,” he said, kissing him on the cheek. “Did you have a good time with my friend, Kevin?”

  “Yeah, Daddy. He was weal nice. Just like you pwomised.”

  “You know Daddy always keeps his promises,”

  Tony said, putting Rafi back down. “Are you ready to go over to Aaron’s house for
a while?”

  “Yeah!” Rafi said. He ran over to me and gave me a quick hug. “Thanks for playing with me, Kebbin.”

  “Me, too,” Aaron said, throwing his arms around the both of us.

  I held on to them, the weight of their little bodies the only thing keeping me anchored to the floor. I didn’t trust my voice enough to speak.

  “OK,” Nick said, “last one to the door is a sweaty sock.” He and the two boys ran into the hal way.

  Paul lingered for a moment. The look he gave me told me he knew exactly what Tony and I needed to talk about.

  Tony must have sought them out. He planned this with them. But why?

  “You guys take as long as you need,” Paul said.

  “Pick Rafi up whenever you’re ready. He’l be fine.”

  “Thanks,” Tony said. He shook Paul’s hand, and then, surprising me and, I think Paul, too, gave him a hug.

  Paul left.

  Tony sat on the floor facing me. “So. I think it’s time we talked.”

  I just nodded.

  “You were right. I was hiding something from you.”

  When Tony first showed up at the door, I’d been struck dumb. Then, I went numb.

  Now? I could have exploded with anger.

  “ A son? You were hiding a son from me? An entire human being named Rafi?” I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “His name is actual y Raphael,” Tony corrected me.

  That made sense. I couldn’t see Tony naming his son “Rafi.” Tony’s family was very Italian and Rafi isn’t real y a . . . wait a minute . . .

  Who cares about the kid’s name?

  Focus, Kevin, focus.

  “Raphael was your big secret?”

  “Wel , at least now you know who I took to see Super Rangers. ”

  “This isn’t funny!”

  “I know, I know. I’ve had a lot longer to imagine what it was going to be like tel ing you this than you’ve had to hear it. Sorry. But when we talk about this, and we wil , whenever you’re ready, I think you’l see this explains a lot.”

  There had been times in the past when I thought Tony had hurt me, but this was the cruelest blow of al .

  “How could you not have told me you had a son, Tony?”

  Usual y, when I got mad at Tony, he’d get mad right back. Not today. He didn’t seem defensive, or upset, or hurt.

  He looked, for the first time in a long time, total y at peace. He looked . . . relieved. It kind of freaked me out.

  “Kevin, I had a mil ion reasons not to tel you about Rafi. At first, I didn’t say anything because I thought it’d scare you away. Then, when you started talking about how you wanted to have kids, I didn’t tel you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I couldn’t see two men raising a child together. Then, I didn’t tel you because I hadn’t told you for so long that I knew you’d be mad at me for not tel ing you sooner.

  Should I go on?”

  “No,” I answered, realizing that none of that mattered. There was only one question that did.

  My entire world hung on the answer.

  How do you know if it’s love or if it’s pain?

  It was time to find out.

  Tony saw the question in my eyes.

  He leaned over and put his hands on my cheeks, brushing my bangs off my face.

  “Ask me,” he said.

  I turned into his palm and rubbed my face against it like a cat.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “You don’t have to be. Not anymore. I promise.”

  You know Daddy always keeps his promises, he’d told Rafi.

  How easy it was for a child to trust.

  Could I be that brave?

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, I had a knife at my throat and was facing death.

  This was scarier.

  OK, here goes nothing, I thought. Forget about what happened before.

  “Why are you tel ing me about Rafi now? ”

  Tony took my hands in his and smiled like a kid in school who’d just been handed a test and realized he had al the right answers.

  And you know what?

  He did.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2011 by Scott Sherman

  Al rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-0-7582-7394-9

 

 

 


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