by Alex Sanchez
Aside from my family, she was the most important person in the world to me. She was funny, fun, kind, smart, and always there for me. I loved the time we spent together, whether talking, studying, praying, or just hanging out. Even when we argued, I never stopped loving her. But as much as I wanted to, I felt none of the lusty in-love-ness I watched on screen, even when we kissed or slow-danced.One lunchtime during sophomore year Dakota had stirred up a discussion about what constituted premarital sex. "To me," she argued, "that only means you can't have intercourse.""No way!" Elizabeth protested. "Sex includes any kind of sex.""What do you guys think?" Dakota asked Angie and me."Well," Angie replied, "I think it's a personal decision between two people and God."Then the three girls shifted their gaze to me."Um ..." I poked my fork into my mashed potatoes. "I think, um, a couple should wait on anything sexual till marriage."And secretly, I prayed that when the time came God would make me want to have sex with a woman.In tonight's silly comedy, the girl mistook the boy, a lab janitor, for a rocket scientist. Hoping to score an easy lay, he went along with the mistaken identity. But then he found himself falling in love and feared that if she found out who he really was, he'd lose her.Although it was a lame story, I laughed--probably from nerves. What if Angie found out my secret? Would she still love me? I didn't want to hurt her. But I didn't want to lose her either. She wasn't just my girl friend; she was my best friend.42Angie stroked my hand in the darkness of the theater, glancing at me every time the couple kissed--and when they landed in bed. Her longing was obvious.I squeezed her hand but kept my eyes glued to the screen, praying, Please, God, make me feel toward Angie like the guy in the movie feels toward his girl. . . like every other normal boy in the world feels, except me.At the climax of the film, the girl discovered the truth about the boy, and they had a blowout of anger. He apologized. And she decided she loved him anyway, for who he was inside, not what he was outside. Happy ending, blah, blah, blah ... The moral eluded me. My life was no silly Hollywood movie.As I drove Angie back to her house, the moon was up, and little thin clouds were whipping across it, going south. Angie leaned close to me, light-voiced, her hair fragrant.I parked the car and laid my arm across her shoulder. Angie rested her head on my chest and hummed a little bit of some hymn.Eventually, we kissed. I didn't mind kissing her; I just wished that I felt more. After several minutes I pulled away and reached for the door handle, expecting Angie to climb out too, so I could walk her up the front steps--
always the ideal gentleman. Except tonight she remained in the car seat beside me, studying my face.I let go of the door handle. "What's the matter?" She gave her head a little shake. "You're always the first to pull away." "Huh?""When we kiss," Angie explained, "you always pull away first." A faint band of sweat beaded on my forehead. Was she suspecting something?43"Um, sorry." I put my arm around her again and resumed kissing."Okay!" Angie pulled away, giggling.
"You're so funny sometimes."I laughed too, from anxiety. Then I walked her to the front door. On the steps we kissed again, and once more I waited for her to pull away first.She gazed into my eyes and told me, "I love you.""I love you too," I echoed, meaning it.After one last peck she said,
"Good night," and stepped inside. But as always she waited till I'd started the car before shutting off the porch light.And I drove home, thinking about the silly movie.44
Chapter 9
SUNDAY MORNING I WOKE UP THINKING ABOUT OUR YOUTH CHOIR
PERFORMANCE -- FEELING MORE EXCITED AND NERVOUS THAN EVER.In our town, the church that you went to defined what group you belonged to--kind of like whom you sat with at lunch. It seemed like we had a church on almost every corner. When meeting someone for the first time, folks would ask, "Where do you worship?"The I Am The Way Church was one of our area's largest congregations, holding English and Spanish services for more than two thousand members in a building bigger than our high school.Five years ago, when I first went with my pa and Angie, I had never been to a charismatic church before. At the solemn little chapel Pa and I had attended with Ma, people knelt in silent prayer, listening to the musty organ while waiting for service to start.Here, even before the service began, churchgoers stood and prayed out loud, some at full voice, raising their hands in the air. And when Pastor Jose strode in, a full-throttle band and jubilant choir accompanied his arrival, while people swayed their bodies, clapped to the music, and practically danced in the aisles.45That Sunday, Pastor Jose had preached about how Jesus softened our hardened hearts, quoting from Matthew: '"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.'" People started speaking in tongues, received the laying on of hands, and fell backward ("slain in the Spirit," Angie later explained), while I shifted in my seat, a little nervous.When I gazed at Pa for reassurance, I was surprised to see a river of tears streaming down his face for the first time in the weeks since Ma had died. And when Pastor Jose invited all who wanted to be made new in Christ Jesus to come forward, my pa responded.I craned my neck to watch, not wanting to let him out of my sight. When he returned from the altar, he stood straight and smiled peacefully, his eyes no longer dimmed by Ma's death but glowing with light. It was uncanny. Had Jesus truly made him new?That afternoon I asked Pa,
"What do people pray for when they kneel at the altar?"His dark brown eyes gazed at me softly.
"They ask Jesus to come live in their hearts."At my ma's church, the pastor and Sunday school teachers had mostly spoken about Jesus as living in the past, ascending into heaven, and sitting at the right hand of the Father until the day he'd come again in glory.But as I recalled the Sunday school mural of Jesus, my entire body surged with excitement. Could Jesus come to live in my heart now, today}The following Sunday, when Pastor Jose announced the altar call, I edged forward in my seat, eager but unsure. "Go ahead, mijo" Pa whispered. "Don't be afraid."46I stepped tentatively toward the altar, while the congregation joined the choir in singing:Just as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that that thou me come to thee, O
Lamb of God, I come, I come.Knees trembling, I knelt beside the others and uttered this simple but heartfelt prayer: "Dear Jesus, I believe you lived and died for us. Please forgive all my sins and come live in my heart. I love you. Amen."I returned to my seat, tears pouring down my face, out of control. Pa wrapped his arms around me so tightly I could feel his heart beat. And I felt God's love surround me. At that moment, being a Christian seemed so simple.I quickly grew to love this church. The music made me want to sing. The swaying and dancing gave me the feeling of worshipping with my whole body, not just my thoughts. I was able to spend more time with Angie. But most of all I loved that church for bringing Jesus into my heart. I'd seen how he had changed my pa, and I believed he could change me.Now, as I polished my shoes and dressed in my best church clothes for our choir concert, I asked Jesus, Please help me calm down and use my voice to share your Spirit.Then I asked Pa to drive us to church, so I could rehearse in my mind for one last time the hymns we'd sing.47
Chapter 10
DESPITE MY WORRIES,OUR YOUTH CHOIR PERFORMANCE CAME OFF GREAT. IT
FELT ALMOST ELECTRIC, LIKE GOD WAS IN OUR MIDST, RADIATING THROUGH
OUR VOICES. AS I LOOKED AT ANGIE AND OUT OVER THE CONGREGATION, I
COULD FEEL HIS LOVE AND ENERGY IN OUR HEARTS."I think that was your best performance ever." Pa clapped me on the back after the service. He said that every time. I knew he was proud of me largely because he dreaded standing up in front of groups."Thanks." I smiled.Like she did every Sunday, Pa's girlfriend invited us for lunch after church. Today she made arroz con polio, chicken and rice. I loved her cooking, and by dessert time I was stuffed.
After we cleared the table, Pa stayed to spend the afternoon at Raquel's, and I drove home.I was in my bedroom, changing out of my church clothes, when my cell rang. I glanced at the screen: It was Manuel. Reluctantly, I answered. "Yeah?""Hey, amigo!" Manuel sai
d cheerily. "I made a coconut48custard flan that's got your name all over it. You want to come hang out?""Um ..."
Unsure what to respond, I plopped down on my bed and peeled off my dress shoes. "Thanks, but, um, I've got a load of stuff to do.""No problem. I'll bring it over. You'll love it.
Guaranteed!""Look ..." I emptied my pockets and tugged my slacks off, debating the idea of a known gay guy coming over. "I appreciate it, but I just had a big lunch.""Then you can save it for later. Come on, man. You've got to help me. Otherwise I'll pig out till I blimp out."I unbuttoned my shirt, annoyed by his insistence. "I wish I could, but I've really got a ton of chores and stuff to do.""Amigo, please?" Manuel paused, and his voice became soft. "I miss my friends back home. I hardly know anyone here. Can't I just come over for a little while? I'll help you with stuff."I thought for a moment, recalling Angie quoting Matthew: I was a stranger and you welcomed me... As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me."All right." I gave an irritated sigh. "Come on over." After giving him directions I hung up and finished changing into a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. Then I picked up the Sunday newspaper my pa had left scattered in the living room and tried to think up an excuse to politely get rid of Manuel. I was cleaning out the coffee-maker from the morning when the doorbell rang.'"Sup?" Manuel greeted me at the door, flan in hand. "Wait till you taste this baby. I brought extra for your mom and dad. Are they home?""Nope." I didn't mention that my ma had died. I didn't usually talk about that till I knew someone better. I didn't want people feeling sorry for me.49"Do you have any brothers and sisters?" Manuel asked, as he followed me to the kitchen."No, just me." I stored the flan in the fridge. It looked good, but I was still full from lunch."Lucky you," Manuel continued. "I've got a bossy older brother and a pain-in-the-butt kid sister. How was your church concert?""Great." I told him about our choir performance, and since I still hadn't figured out how to get rid of him, I poured us a couple of Cokes. "Where do you go to church?""Right now . . ." Manuel sipped his Coke. "We're trying out different churches, looking for a welcoming congregation."I wasn't sure what he meant by that. Wasn't every Christian congregation supposed to be welcoming?
Nonetheless, I didn't suggest he try my church. That was the last thing I needed."So, what can I help you with?" he asked."Huh?""You said you had chores to do."I hadn't expected him to take that seriously. "Don't worry about it," I told him.He gave me a sidelong glance, as if grasping what had happened.To change the subject I suggested, "You want to play a video game?"Even though I had a fairly boring room, Manuel walked around it slowly, checking out every poster (mostly Christian singers and bands) and each of my school and team awards, like he was really interested. None of my guy friends ever did that. They normally went straight to my games."What's so interesting?" I asked."Just looking." Manuel shrugged. "You can tell a lot about a person from their room."He glanced across my desk at the little maple-wood "God Box"50Pa had given me. Carved atop the lid was the Serenity Prayer:God, grant me the serenity To accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.Pa had explained that you were supposed to write down a specific prayer and fold it into the box, giving your problem up to the Lord. Over time there had been exams I'd prayed to pass, cross country races I'd asked to win, Abuelita's gallstone operation I'd prayed for her to get through, my pa's sliced tendon I'd begged for him to heal from... When Angie told me her dad might take a job in another town, I'd prayed for her not to move. All of these and other problems, decisions, and fears I'd put into that box. Whenever it got too crammed, I took out the old scraps of paper and read back over them.Almost everything I'd prayed and stressed over had somehow gotten resolved. Tests had been passed (or failed, but the world hadn't ended), Abuelita had survived her gallstone operation, Pa's tendon had healed, and Angie's dad had gotten a promotion, so she hadn't had to move. But there remained one thing I'd prayed about in a million different ways, giving it up to the Lord over and again. Yet no matter how many times I entered it into the God Box, the thing still hadn't gone away--the issue I felt terrified Manuel would open the box and see.To my relief, he only ran his finger along the carved lid and said, "I love that prayer."Then he picked up the gold-framed photo of me when I was six years old, together with my ma at the community pool where she'd taught me to swim.51"Is that your mom?" Manuel said. "She's pretty.""Thanks." I stared at the photo, even though I knew it so well that I could see it with my eyes closed. "She died when I was twelve.""Oh, I didn't know." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, man.""It's okay." I felt the gentle weight of his hand and could sense he only meant to be friendly, nothing lustful by it. Nevertheless, I wasn't sure how I felt about a gay guy touching me. When he finally removed his hand, I felt relieved.Then he picked up the photo of Angie and me in our formals at junior prom. "You and she seem pretty close.""Yeah," I replied.
"We've been going together since seventh grade.""You mean dating?" Manuel's voice rose in surprise."Yeah. Dating." Irritated, I yanked the photo away and set it back on the desk. "You got a problem with that?""No, I just thought..." He peered directly into my eyes like on that first morning. This time I knew what he was thinking."I'm not gay," I said defiantly."Okay." He shrugged."I don't want you to think I'm gay," I insisted. '"Cause I'm not.""Yeah, I got that." He stared at me and I felt a little foolish. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.I nodded, and he deposited himself onto the carpet. Running his palm across the weave, he announced, "I miss my boyfriend."The comment startled me. I'd never imagined he might have a boyfriend."We've been together a year." Manuel pulled out his wallet. "Here's a photo of us at our junior prom."52In the snapshot he stood beside a boy with curly blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Both of them wore tuxes and bright wide grins. I could hardly believe it. "You went to prom together?""Yep."
Manuel nodded proudly. "We were the first same-sex couple at our school.""And no one did anything?" I tried to imagine two guys trying that in our town. They'd probably get bashed in the head with a baseball bat, like Jude Maldonado had threatened."Nope. It was fun." Manuel sighed wistfully and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I miss him so much."Manuel's longing seemed to fill the room. I had never heard anyone describe somebody gay like this: as a real person capable of loving and missing someone. I knew how much I'd miss Angie if she and I were separated, except...That feeling of being a fraud returned. Even though I knew Manuel and his boyfriend were sinning by being gay, I couldn't help wondering: Weren't they being more honest than I was with Angie?I handed him back the snapshot and turned to my video games. "What do you want to play?"We spent the next couple of hours playing games and listening to CDs. I lost track of time till Manuel said, "I'd better go and let you do your stuff. Thanks for letting me come over."Now I kind of didn't want him to go. I'd actually had a fun time with him. As I peered out the blinds, watching him walk away down the sidewalk, I felt that odd, uneasy tug again.When Pa got home, I pulled the coconut flan from the fridge. We each had a slice and split the third piece.
I've always had a weakness for coconut."It's almost as good as your ma's was." Pa smiled. "Who made it?"I shrugged. "A friend."53Later that evening, when Angie phoned, I debated whether to tell her about Manuel and decided she was bound to find out anyway. "Um... Manuel came by.""You asked him over?" Angie laughed. "I thought you said he was bad news.""He invited himself over. What was I supposed to tell him?""Uh-huh," she said. "Well, good. He needs some friends.""But why me?" I asked."Because you're a good guy," she replied.When I undressed for bed that night, my thoughts remained on Manuel. But not Manuel hunched over the video game controller; Manuel laying his hand on my shoulder ... and telling me about his boyfriend.What would it feel like to have a boyfriend? I wondered. What would it feel like to dance with a boy?Almost immediately, a wave of guilt washed over me. Once again, I wrote down my same prayer: Dear Lord, please take away these feelings. You know which ones. In Jesus' name I ask you. Thank you. Amen.I folded it up and placed it in my God Box, hoping th
is time the Lord would answer.54
Chapter 11
AT SCHOOL THE FOLLOWING WEEK,IT SEEMED AS IF AT EVERY TURN I HEARD
THE WORD "GAY." THAT IN ITSELF WASN'T NEW OR UNUSUAL. PEOPLE HAD
ALWAYS USED "GAY" AND THE LIKE AS PUT-DOWNS: "THAT'S SO GAY." "YOU'RE
SUCH A FAG." "THOSE STRING BEANS ARE SO QUEER."Teachers ignored the remarks, silently turning away. I did too. At times I even said stuff like that myself, not giving it much thought. But since Manuel's arrival, every time I heard it, I flinched. Why did he have to come to our school?One morning in homeroom, before the bell, Jude Maldonado sneered at Manuel,
"Hey, is it true you're a fag?"The room became quiet as everyone waited for the response.Manuel slowly turned. "Why?" he asked Jude. "Are you} If you are, I'm not interested."Students giggled, but it sounded a little nervous. I felt too tense to laugh.Jude glared back at Manuel and clenched his fists. Clearly, he didn't like being made fun of. In a voice that gave me chills, he warned,