The Chartreuse Door

by Lisa Gray

  “I’d stopped sweating by then, and my muscles were cramping. My mouth was so dry, but I managed to whisper one word—water.” Keir’s left hand automatically rose to shield his cheek. “I learned abominations weren’t allowed water. At some point during the night, I collapsed, and nothing they did could rouse me.

  “I slept for a while, but soon they came and dragged me up again. It was all designed to break me and rip apart who I was.

  “I guess it wasn’t going well because when Father Xavier came back in the morning, he wasn’t smiling anymore. He told me I was willful and stubborn and had to be made to see the light.” Keir closed his eyes tight and whispered, “There was no light to be seen in that room.”

  Drowning in the oppressive memories, Keir tried to focus on the birds singing and the breeze caressing his face as he struggled for control.

  He felt a touch and looked down.

  Riley held Keir’s ankle with one hand and offered an open water bottle with the other. “I’m right here if you need me. Say the word, and I’ll hustle you out of here.”

  Keir took a long drink. When he handed back the bottle, his smile was genuine. “I’m okay. Thanks for worrying.”

  Riley grinned. “Sidekick—remember?”

  “I remember.” With renewed confidence, he faced the crowd and took a deep breath, eager to get through it and be done. “They strapped me to the chair, my arms at my sides, and brought in a big pot of steaming water.” Keir forced a brittle smile onto his lips. “It’s called ‘aversion therapy.’ It’s like snapping a rubber band on your wrist every time you want a cigarette. Only much worse.” Fighting the overwhelming impulse to hide his hands in his pockets, he continued. “They made me look at pictures of naked men touching other men, while the priests ladled scalding water over my hands. With what little voice I had left, I screamed, I begged. I promised anything, everything. They didn’t believe me.

  “When at last they cut me loose from the chair, my hands were so swollen and throbbing, I was afraid to even look at them. Would I end up a damaged, helpless freak? Did I want to go on living that way?

  “They placed me on my back on the floor, and I thought it was over. But they had one more lesson to offer.”

  Taking a moment to scan the crowd, Keir was amazed to see no one chatting or texting; instead, they’d focused their attention on him. Unnerved by the intense scrutiny, he lowered his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and forced himself to go on. “Father Xavier signaled two of the other priests to approach. It took both of them to carry in a thick granite tablet, engraved with the Ten Commandments. When they set it on my chest. I couldn’t move—it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. I panicked, gasping for air, but I couldn’t expand my lungs or use my hands to try and push it off me. Father Xavier ordered one of the young priests to lie on top of me, so I would know the heavy burden of lying with another man.”

  A few angry curses floated in the air.

  “I don’t think it was on purpose. Maybe he tripped on his robes, but the young priest fell on me with enough force to jam the stone into me, crushing my chest. The pain was incredible. I was sure I was going to die, and I just let go and blacked out.

  “I found out later that when I turned blue, they got scared and took me to the local hospital. Lucky for me, one of my broken ribs had pierced a lung. I don’t know how long they would have tortured me if it hadn’t happened. So in some weird way, what saved me from the church was the Ten Commandments.”

  A murmur of surprise ran through the audience.

  “I know some of you are thinking nothing like that could ever happen in this country, and perhaps you’re right. But even if the methods change, the goal remains the same. And that goal is to destroy your child’s identity. To make him loathe himself. To convince her she’s an unlovable piece of filth. Then supposedly, the church recreates them with prayer and manufactured identities.

  “But prayer can’t change the person you were born to be. Believe me, I’ve prayed many times to be tall and good-looking, with 20/20 vision.” He gave an exaggerated shrug. “Hasn’t worked yet.”

  A spattering of relieved laughter erupted.

  “You don’t have the power to change your children, but you do have the power to destroy them. Even if they forgive you, even if they survive undamaged, believe me, they will never trust you again.”

  Wanting to end on a positive note, he added one last parting thought. “My advice to everyone is to embrace your children and celebrate them. Be proud of them and of who you are, and claim your place in the world. Thank you all for listening.” He handed the microphone to Lucy and made his escape from the stage.

  Ethan approached, heading straight for Keir, with his parents close behind. The woman’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and the man’s expression was stormy. Keir quashed the urge to make an abrupt about-face only because of the happy grin on Ethan’s face. Maybe there wouldn’t be an ugly scene after all. Crossing his fingers for luck, Keir pushed himself forward to greet them. “Mr. and Mrs. Bradford, I’m pleased you could be here.”

  Ethan’s father scowled. “I’m not sure we had a choice. I assume this was all put on for our benefit?”

  Keir hoped his loyal sidekick was listening. If the Bradfords planned to threaten Keir for interfering with their son, a physically imposing and socially charming man like Riley could come in handy. “No, sir. It was for Ethan’s benefit.”

  That seemed to confuse the man for a moment, giving his wife an opening to join the conversation. “You appear to care a great deal about our son, Mr. Moreau.”

  “I care about all my students. But I admit, Ethan is a particularly bright young man with great potential.”

  “At least we agree on that much.” The woman put her arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “My husband and I will be doing more research into conversion therapy. But if what I heard here today was true, we will not be putting our son through it.”

  Keir relaxed his shoulders, surprised at just how tightly tensed they’d been. “Thank you, Mrs. Bradford. And if I’ve offended you or your husband, please accept my apology.”

  She gave him the slightest of nods, but when he offered her his hand, she didn’t hesitate to accept it.

  After a moment, Mr. Bradford did the same before he turned to leave.

  Ethan aimed a cheery wave at Keir and walked off with his parents.

  Keir wasn’t surprised to hear Riley’s voice from behind him. “That went well.” The man slipped an arm around Keir’s waist. “Are you okay?”

  “Better than okay.” He turned to face Riley. “And it’s all because of you.”

  “Me? Oh, hell, no. I just gathered a few resources for you. But your story? That was so damned compelling. You probably didn’t notice, but the hecklers all shut up and slunk away once you started talking.” He put his hands on Keir’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so proud of you. I could feel how hard that was for you.” Riley released him and took a step back. “How about we go home? Maybe call for a pizza?”

  “That sounds perfect.” Stirring up all the remembered pain had Keir aching to hide out for a while and get his emotions under control.

  “Great. Let’s go say goodbye to Lucy and her new beau, if we can get a word in edgewise.” He steered Keir in the direction of the stage where Lucy and Arthur were holding court, surrounded by people jockeying for their attention.

  Keir had to chuckle. Despite her age, the tiny powerhouse of a woman was filled with timeless energy. Her bright eyes and constantly moving hands reminded him of a fluttering bird, ready to soar. She was another irresistible force, just like Riley.

  Lucy broke off her conversation to move next to Keir and take his arm in a firm grip. “I wondered where you’d wandered off to. I’d like you to meet some people who are very impressed with you.”

  And just like that, the rally turned into a social network gathering. All thoughts of sharing a pizza at home with Riley were put on hold for the next coup
le hours while he chatted, agreed to join with some others to support their causes, and, in general, became the target of way too much attention for comfort.

  Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, Riley managed to extract the two of them from the group and say their farewells. Good thing—despite being grateful for the open friendship offered by all those people, Keir was bone-deep exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to slip away and recharge in peace and quiet. If Riley’s frequent concerned glances were any indicator, the man understood that very well.

  Almost home, they turned the corner onto their street and stopped dead.

  Riley roared in laughter.

  Keir just stared, his mouth agape. Color. Utter chaos of color. Everywhere. Window boxes overflowing with pink and purple petunias. Pots of coral geraniums and yellow marigolds on the front steps. Hanging fuchsias swaying gently in the breeze. And a fluttering forest of flags—rainbow flags, animal rescue flags, baseball flags, and more. And doors. Good Lord, doors. At least a dozen. Across from where he and Riley stood was a burgundy one. Next to it, a turquoise one. Further along the street, he saw sky blue, spring green, and even one that outdid Riley’s door in garish, nuclear neon orange. Neighbors chatted and waved to each other as they compared the displays. The quiet staid street had turned into a block party.

  Riley’s merriment eased, and he turned to Keir. “This is all for you.”

  “No—not for me.” Keir gazed in disbelief at the astounding changes made in a few short hours. “It’s everyone showing who they are, claiming this as their home.”

  “A fine idea. Let’s go home. Your sidekick needs to get off his feet.”

  Keir wrapped an arm around Riley to offer support. He should have realized the man would be hurting after so much time spent standing. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “Not too bad. I just need some downtime. How about we get that pizza and spend the rest of the day snuggled in my recliner, watching TV.”

  Tilting his head to one side, Keir thought a moment and looked up at Riley. “I don’t remember you having a television set.”

  Riley’s wicked smile promised delights to come. “Does that matter?”

  Laughter welled up as he answered, “Not one little bit.”

  Riley claimed Keir’s lips in a kiss. And what a delightful kiss it was, exploring, possessing, and promising so much more. Through the haze of rising desire, Keir became aware of friendly laughter and whooping in the background.

  The neighbors must be watching!

  He felt a surge of blood paint his cheeks bright crimson with embarrassment but didn’t break away. Instead, he held tighter to his sidekick and congratulated himself on being so lucky.

  After all, a little color was a good thing.

  THE END

  ABOUT LISA GRAY

  Lisa Gray worked in animal rescue for years, specializing in raising newborn kittens. She also ran a non-profit organization that helped people spay and neuter their pets.

  Currently living on a river in northern Michigan with five cats and one husband, she spends her free time on her deck, birdwatching for herons, kingfishers, wild turkeys, and five kinds of woodpeckers.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!