Tribe

by R. D. Zimmerman

  “I…I guess. When?”

  “Actually, he's on his way over now. The sooner we deal with this, the better.”

  Janice went on to tell him how she, as a lawyer, thought this was the best way. The easiest. If they could keep it nice and simple, if Zeb could tell them everything he knew, then this might be over within a few hours. Not only might the authorities be able to apprehend whoever attacked the minister, Zeb might no longer have anyone pursuing him.

  He shrugged. “You don't know my dad.”

  Oh, but I do, thought Janice. She bent over, kissed Ribka on the forehead. Oh, but I do.

  “Zeb, we've got a lot to talk about,” began Janice. “There's a lot you don't know and a lot I'd like to—”

  The door quickly opened, and Janice looked up, expecting to see Jeff swirl into the room, draped in a shimmering gold gown. Instead, two men burst in, both of them quite familiar and one of them holding a pistol.

  “Dad!” shouted Zeb, jumping to his feet.

  “Speak of the devil,” said Janice, clutching Ribka against her chest. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

  “I'm afraid this is what it's come down to,” said Rick, his voice stern and authoritative. “Now, my son, I'm afraid your little escapade is over. It's time to come back home. We've all been terribly worried about you, especially your young wife, and it's time to return to The Congregation.”

  “But—”

  “No, the decision has been made.”

  Zeb ran one hand over his short hair. “But Ribka—she's sick, she needs medicine.”

  “Ribka will be fine. She just needs your faith.”

  “Oh, cut the crap, will you?” snapped Janice. “She has a bad ear infection, that's all.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” Rick stepped toward her and reached out. “Give me the child.”

  “You can't do this!” she said, cowering back in the old love seat.

  “Just watch.”

  Janice's mind whipped through a flip chart of possibilities, excuses, lies. She tried to conjure up some lawyerly trick. If only she could stall them, delay them in some way.

  “Paul,” she said, “do you know the police have a warrant out for your arrest?”

  The large man grinned. “Oh, really?”

  “For murder?”

  His face became serious. “What?”

  “You attacked someone, a minister, who's in the hospital and may die. I thought one of the commandments—one of the biggies—was ‘Thou shalt not kill.' ”

  “Don't listen to her, Paul. She's being ridiculous,” interrupted Rick. “Just give me the child and we'll be gone, right, Zeb?”

  “No way. I'm not going back to that funny farm.”

  Janice said, “The police are on the way here.”

  “Right,” replied Zeb. “A cop's coming over to talk to me.”

  “If they're on the way, then I guess we'll have to hurry.”

  Paul raised the gun, started to step forward. “Do like he says, lady, and give him the baby.”

  “Like hell I will, you murderer.”

  Janice clutched her granddaughter, sank back. There was no way she was giving up Ribka, not again.

  “Fine,” snapped Rick impatiently. “Then we'll have to take all of you. Paul, you get the boy.”

  Paul lunged across the room, grabbing Zeb and twisting his arm behind his back. Zeb bucked, tried to pull away, but then his face collapsed in a wave of pain.

  “Leave him alone!” shouted Janice, rising to her feet.

  “Zeb, my son, you really must start behaving. Please, I implore you, do as your elders tell you.” Rick reached out for Janice. “Now come with me. No one's going to get hurt as long as you do as you're told. Please, Janice, just stay nice and calm. Our car is right outside.”

  “Oh, great,” quipped Janice, realizing she had no choice. “Road trips with you have always been a barrel of fun.”

  “I…I don't get it,” said Zeb as Paul pushed him out the door. “How did you find us down here?”

  Paul replied, “God the Father showed us the way.”

  “Bullshit,” said Todd, stepping into one end of the long, narrow hallway and blocking their exit. “They had Janice's phone bugged.”

  Rick paused for a second and then jerked Janice, who was clutching Ribka, in front of him. Todd couldn't tell how immediately dangerous the situation was, but recognized the guy behind Rick as the one with whom he'd fought at Janice's house. Todd's eyes flashed over Zeb for the first time and he felt a jolt.

  Rick said, “Too bad you didn't figure that out sooner. Now, get out of our way. Like I told you before, this is a family matter.”

  “Of course it is, that's why I'm here.”

  “Move before Paul is forced to shoot you.”

  “Oh, I wouldn't do that,” called Rawlins from the opposite end of the hall, where he stood, a gun trained on Paul. “Todd's special, if you know what I mean. I don't think you want to hurt him.”

  A few silent seconds crept by, and Todd hoped this battle was already won. But then he watched as Rick grabbed the gun from Paul and placed it against Janice's temple. Her grasp on Ribka firm and secure, Janice's body went rigid, and Todd could see the panic sweep across her face.

  “Dad, no!” screamed Zeb.

  “Shut up, Zeb!” Rick glanced at Rawlins, then at Todd. “You let us go or I'll shoot her!”

  “Dad, stop it!”

  The desperation clear on his face, Rick dragged Janice toward a door and shouted, “Come on, Paul!”

  Zeb twisted and bucked in Paul's grip, but then they started down a side hall. The Gay Times was a labyrinthine place, complete with everything from a piano bar to a pool hall, and while Todd knew the main parts pretty well, he had only a vague idea of the dressing room and stage areas. He was pretty sure he could cut them off, though, and he dashed down another hall and into a room, which was full of stacks of chairs but no other way out. He retreated, found another door, through which he tore. The music from the Show Room blared away, louder and louder, and Todd only hoped he'd find some way to circle around and cut them off.

  He came around a corner and this tall, skinny thing in a green sparkling dress crashed right into him. One of the drag queens, Todd realized, a black man, sleek and elegant and struggling to maintain her balance on her tall, spike heels.

  “Did you see a guy with a gun?” demanded Todd.

  “You bet your sweet ass I did,” said the queen, straightening her long black wig, then pointing up a few steps. “You go right up that way, doll, and you'll get a bullet right through your heart, I'm sure of it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, a real hero. I think I'm gonna cry.”

  Todd bounded up the short staircase and found himself backstage, a cavernous black space full of ropes and a few paltry pieces of scenery. As the music blasted away, Todd cut around, emerging on the far edge of the stage on which his friend Jeff, à la Tiffany Crystal, was prancing and dragging around to the sounds of Diana Ross.

  And there, emerging from the other side, were Paul, Zeb, Janice, and Rick, the gun still at Janice's head.

  All at once the music stopped, and Tiffany was left mid-swoop, mid-song, and as awkward as a lumberjack in a skirt.

  “Hey, you bonehead,” she called to the technician in the back as she straightened up, “I got a song in my heart, but no music in my throat. What's up?”

  His voice low, Todd said, “Get out of here, Jeff.”

  She turned around, her gold gown glimmering in the lights. “Why, hello there, big boy. Come to sing a duet with me?”

  From the opposite end of the stage, Janice, her voice trembling, said, “Do as he says, Jeff.”

  Tiffany Crystal turned around further, saw the full situation. “Oh, fuck. I mean…I mean, oh, my word.”

  And with that she went scurrying down the front steps and into the tables, which were clustered at the base of the stage. Todd took a step forward, hesitated. What could he do? How could he
stop this?

  “Pat…or Rick…you've got to realize that Zeb doesn't want to go with you. And if his daughter is sick, then how she's treated is his decision.”

  “Get out of our way, Todd!”

  Clearly that tack wasn't going to work. Think, he told himself. Figure something out. Glancing to the side, he saw Rawlins enter the room, and Todd held up his hand, motioned for him not to come up any closer.

  “You used to be a pretty nice guy, Rick. We were friends, remember?” ventured Todd. “I don't know what it was, but there was something kind of charming about you. You were full of life, full of energy.”

  From out in the dark audience a woman's voice called, “Fragile too, wasn't he?”

  Todd peered out into the darkness and saw a blond woman leaning against a column.

  “There was something about him,” she said, “that just made me want to take him in my arms and tell him everything would be all right.”

  Zeb tried to pull away from Paul, but couldn't, and he shouted, “Mom!”

  “For God's sake, Martha,” snapped Rick, “what the hell are you doing here?”

  “What kind of mother wouldn't come to help her boy and granddaughter?”

  Desperate to find and see Zeb, Martha had flown up here, and it had been she who had made the emergency call to Janice's office. Using Todd's car phone as they headed downtown, Janice had then called her at the Holiday Inn. After getting Rawlins, Todd had swung by and picked her up as well.

  “Do you remember him back then, so pretty, so young-looking?” she asked.

  “Sure I do,” said Todd. “You could look him right in the eye, see a person who knew…who knew right from wrong.”

  “Exactly.” Martha continued, “I'd been living at the ranch, the communal one, for almost two months when he came. And I think I fell in love with him that first night he was there.”

  She'd been sitting on the back porch steps, staring up at the stars, when she heard the screen door squeak open.

  “Hi,” said Martha, her long blond hair swishing as she turned around and saw him, Pat, the guy who'd just arrived that afternoon. “Isn't it beautiful? I mean, it's just so clear.

  All you have to do is look up and see all those stars and you know that's where Jehovah and all the angels live.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Maybe this sounds awful, but sometimes I just can't wait to get up there, to be with Him. Won't it be wonderful?

  “Probably, but I'll never get to heaven.”

  “Don't be silly.” She scooted over. “Come here and sit down next to me. Hold my hand, otherwise I might just turn into an angel and fly away right now.”

  “I mean it.” Pat sat down, hesitantly took her hand, and then looked upward at that great promised place. “I'll never get there. I'm going to hell. ”

  “Hey, don't talk like that.”

  “But I'm bad. You know, evil.”

  “Then you've come to the right place. If you give yourself to God then you'll find love and happiness. That's what we're doing here in this house, coming together in love.”

  She glanced over at him, saw tears welling in his eyes. And so she couldn't stop herself. He needed help. He needed a true friend. He was in pain, pain that was honest and sincere. She leaned over, kissed him on the cheek.

  He blurted. “I…I had sex with another guy.”

  It took her by surprise, and at first she didn't know what to say. She didn't even know him, they hadn't even spoken five words before this, but she'd never seen someone open up so quickly, so deeply.

  “We all make mistakes,” said Martha. “God the Father is infinite in His mercy.”

  “Then…then a few days ago I wasn't very nice to a friend of mine. A girl. We were in a motel. I was drunk, I…I made her have sex with me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You don't need to tell me this. You need to—”

  “But I want to. I have to. I have to tell someone at least.”

  “You need to find God the Father and tell Him. We can help you—find Him, I mean. All of us can. Don't worry.”

  “It's too late. Something worse happened. Something at college. I need to turn myself in to the police. I did something horrible. I…I need to tell the authorities.”

  “No, silly,” she said, amazed at his agony. “You don't need to tell anyone but God.”

  “But you don't understand.”

  “Of course I do. I understand that the police can't help you. And I understand that God can.” She glanced upward at the dark sky. “Look! Look a falling star! It's a sign, Pat! A sign for you to reach out to heaven.”

  “What happened was horrible, I—”

  “Shh. Whatever it was is between you and God. Find Him and you'll find eternal love and forgiveness.”

  “Do you remember that night, Rick?” said Martha, wiping tears from her own eyes. “You just started weeping. Sobbing. And I thought I'd never seen anything so pure, so honest. That was the man I fell in love with, that young man who was drowning in a sea of despair, who was reaching out…reaching out to me.”

  “Stop it, Martha!” snapped Rick.

  “And that's what I grew to loathe about you. After that night you never really gave yourself to God or anyone else, particularly me. Whatever was burning inside you never turned into love. No, gradually, bit by bit, it just turned bitter, and over time it turned into hate, didn't it?”

  “Now's not the time for this kind of nonsense!”

  Suddenly it was all so clear, thought Todd, staring across the stage at Rick. He understood. What had happened so long ago had kept Todd in the closet for years; Rick, on the other hand, had hidden elsewhere.

  “You didn't join that church to find God or to be sexually rehabilitated or anything like that, did you?” said Todd. “Hell no, that's not what you've been hiding from, is it?”

  “Spare me your accusations!”

  “It was just like you said, you didn't see anyone else on that fire escape, did you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You didn't see anyone else because, of course, it was you out there. You got that window open, didn't you? Somehow you went out on that fire escape.”

  “God's wisdom is all-encompassing.”

  “It was you—you out there with Greg. I saw you, didn't I? And what did you do, push Greg? Is that the truth you wanted to confess to Martha, that you killed someone?”

  Rick stared at him, hesitated, then blurted, “You were the coward, not me. At least I didn't run away.”

  He ran to the window. What a bastard, that Greg! He'd tell the entire fucking fraternity! And Pat reached for the window, tried to pull it upward, but it didn't budge.

  “Todd, I can't get the window up! Help me!”

  When Pat turned around, though, Todd wasn't right there. He was standing in the doorway, ready to run. Their eyes met, the terror mutual, but instead of coming to his aid, Todd turned and fled. Vanished, just like that. Todd was gone, he'd fled, abandoned him. For an instant Pat just stood there, overwhelmed with shock; he'd never felt so alone in his life. Then he turned, saw Greg laughing out on the fire escape, pointing at him, mouthing the word: Faggot!

  Something in Pat exploded. Burst. He grabbed the window, gritted his teeth, gathered strength he didn't know he had, and shoved it upward. The cold air flooded in, constricting around his nearly naked body.

  Greg stood out there on the black metal fire escape, laughing and pointing, a cigarette in one hand. “I was just out here having a smoke when I thought I heard something in your room. It was pretty dark in there, so I took a peek, and what do I see but a couple of faggots!” He laughed. “Man, wait till I tell the guys about this—you and Todd! Holy shit, we're gonna have us a wienie roast! I always thought you were a queer. I always knew you didn't belong in our fraternity. But Todd? Wow, wait till the guys hear about this!”

  “Fuck you!” said Pat, scrambling out the window in his underwear.

  “Oh, help me, help me, a sissy!”

  Pat swu
ng, but Greg was quicker and quite a bit stronger, a star hockey player in the peak of fitness. He flicked his cigarette into the air, then caught Pat by the wrist, just like that, just that quickly.

  Not releasing Pat, Greg softly, gently taunted: “Faggot!”

  Pat wasn't going to take this. No! And summoning his strength a second time, Pat twisted his body in an attempt to jerk his arm free. That was when it happened. Greg lost his balance, that was all. The fire escape was so narrow, so flimsy. He started to fall back and he reached out, grabbed for something, anything. Found nothing. Greg tried to catch himself but the railing was low, and when he went over he only managed to grab on with one hand.

  “Help me!” Greg pleaded, hanging desperately from the grating.

  Towering above him, Pat looked down at Greg's fingers as they clutched the slippery metal bar, and then said, “Fuck off!”

  “Okay, so I went out there,” said Rick calmly, “but Greg fell.”

  Todd stared at him and knew the truth. “Bullshit. You pushed him, you killed him, didn't you? That's the truth that's been eating you all these years.”

  Paul demanded, “What's he saying, Rick?”

  “Nothing! Nothing at all!” he shouted, pressing the gun against Janice's temple.

  “I'm saying you killed someone,” said Todd. “Or at the very least you contributed to his death.”

  “You're filled with the devil, Todd Mills, you sodomite!”

  Todd said calmly, “There are just some things that can never be cleansed, namely, the truth.”

  Suddenly Ribka started to cry, and Zeb said, “Dad…Dad, please let Janice go.”

  “We have to leave! We have to get out of here, get back to The Congregation where we'll be safe!”

  “Dad, please!”

  “Rick…the baby,” begged Janice. “At least let Zeb take her.”

  Paul released Zeb and stepped forward. “Give me the gun, Rick.”

  “What? But Paul, we—”

  “This isn't right,” continued Paul.

  Quite abruptly, a high voice shouted out from the back. “Why's everyone always treat me like a dog?”

  “God Almighty!” thundered Rick. “I told you to stay in the car, Suzanne!”