Some atheists have argued that even the term atheist is unhelpful because the form of the word might suggest it is a complex philosophical superposition that houses a myriad of ideas and tenets that are held by those who identify with the term, but there aren’t any. So it doesn’t tell you anything about the person other than the fact that they don’t believe in god.
It's a problem with label words all around. Gay means someone is sexually attracted to men. When you hear someone say, Gay lifestyle, all they're referring to is the prejudices they hold against people who are gay – a set of generalisations they bring to the table.
What makes me so angry about what happened is that it wasn’t for the truth of god. It wasn’t for any kind of truth. I don’t think I deserved to be punished because I don’t believe in their god and I don’t believe in sin. Just like every other religion, there’s no evidence for the Christian god. They never showed us the solid gold carp.
Lee is clearly gay and doing this for kicks or fooling himself. I could feel his dirty erection rubbing against me all through my spanking. I bet he will wank himself off the moment we leave the room if he didn’t already come while spanking or burning Noah. Why lie when he must know that we all know the truth? Or could it be true that he could be lying to himself so convincingly that he has no idea what he’s doing? And what he did to Noah...
I’m here in my mind and my brain is pulling me in too many directions. I can’t even feel the pain from my arse. Is it a self defence system? I can cope here. I can feel that I’m crying and shaking but I’m not connected to it. Then I feel the pain and I'm drawn back to the real world.
I look up to see Noah lifting himself off Lee’s lap. He pulls up his bottoms then he thanks Lee and hugs him.
“Follow me,” says Gareth. He leads us back to our dorm. “You have two hours of free time. If I were you I’d rest and think about everything.” He leaves as Jacob and Noah both crash face first on their bed.
Noah pulls the pillow over his head and bawls. I go over to him and grab his left hand. It's red but doesn't seem burned. Lee must have kept it far enough away but that doesn't make what he did any better.
I let go. "It's not burned. He was scaring you."
All Noah does is cry.
I get on my bed making the sensible move and also lie down on my front.
I find it very hard to tell a lie. It’s a skill I had to pick up after coming out of the hospital. It’s hard to know precisely what the meningitis did to my mind. I know it caused my brain to swell and it almost killed me but I don’t have any framework for comparison.
I can remember that even after we’d established I’d lost my memory I would still forget things my parents had said at their previous visit. It took a long time for me to start remembering things that happened after I got better.
I never got over it and I don’t think I’m ever likely to. I mean, those problems don’t seem to come up any more but here’s the thing that worries me – how can you remember that you’ve remembered something if, in fact, you’ve forgotten it? If your brain has done it before, how do you know it’s not still doing it? So you see, I’m vulnerable and I think I always will be. Or, maybe, everyone is vulnerable and I see it more clearly.
That’s the problem with lying. You have to remember your lies so that the next time you’ve still got an accurate record. It seems much easier to tell the truth and not be burdened by the fear of forgetting. Then I think about what happened to Noah, Jacob and me and I’m not so sure any more. Maybe everyone has to lie sometimes.
I lay face down on my bed and listen to Noah crying and praying to Jesus to take him away. I slip my hand down the back of my joggers and touch the sore spots on my arse. It no longer stings so much as outright hurts in places but it’s nowhere near as painful as when my dad uses the flexible plastic ruler on me.
Noah keeps on crying and chanting. “Please Jesus, take me away. I’ll stop being gay, Jesus.”
I get up and sit on the side of Noah’s bed and it stings but I try to ignore the pain and put my hand on his back.
“Don’t touch me!” he shouts. "Don't touch me you faggot!" Then he stops talking altogether.
“It’s all right,” says Jacob. “Come over here.”
So I get up and I sit next to Jacob.
He looks up at me still teary eyed. “How bad is it?”
“You want me to look?”
He nods.
I’m almost scared to know what that beating did to him. I’m scared of the extension of the limits of this place that I thought imaginable. I pull down his track suit bottoms. It’s bright red and orange in places and goes all the way to the top of his thighs. I pull them back up, then hold his hand, which makes him cry again. I don’t say anything. I rub his back.
“Is it bad?” he asks.
“Pretty bad. Like when I get a proper beating off my dad." I turn my head. "Noah?”
He says nothing.
I wish I knew what to do. He's mentally collapsing and none of us have anybody to run to.
Jacob holds my hand as I rub his back. There’s a perfect silence in the room between the two of us and there’s a painful silence coming from Noah.
Jacob holds my hand all the time I am rubbing his back. I stop my hand three quarters the way down, but I have to resist every urge in my body that wants to go lower. A couple of times I touch the hem of his bottoms. We are together in this silence, and for the moment I can bring myself to forget about Noah in his bed. I feel so close to Jacob.
“You better stop doing that,” says Jacob, “you’re getting me hard.”
“I don’t mind.” In fact I quite like the idea.
“I’m taken. Sorry man.”
I stop at once. “So you don’t believe in this bullshit either?”
“Not a chance.” Jacob winces as he sits up next to me. “Christ that’s sore. I haven’t had a spanking in years. Come on.” Jacob gets up and walks over to Noah’s bed. He sits down on the edge and pulls the pillow off him. I walk over as Jacob strokes his hair.
“Come on mate,” says Jacob, get up.
“Can you look?” asks Noah, his face still pressed in the mattress.
Jacob pulls down Noah’s bottoms and reveals the bruises all over his arse.
“It’s as bad as Jacob’s,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he did that to you.”
Noah pulls himself up so he’s sitting next to Jacob. I sit on the other side and put an arm around him. His face is a red mess of tears and snot. He wipes some of it away with his sleeve.
“Don’t you listen to 'em,” said Jacob, “either of you. Don’t you dare. What you feel about boys ain’t wrong. Don’t let 'em make you think it is.”
Noah doesn’t answer but his face tells me he’s still trapped in his belief, even though he’s had all the experiences I’ve longed for, even though every part of his being is the clearest evidence that those beliefs are erroneous. I’ve never struggled with that myself, though I read accounts of others who were in that situation. I know I’m gay. I know being shamed and beaten won’t change that.
What you were supposed to do was make sense of it for them, or, rather, help them make sense of it for themselves but now isn’t the time for rational argument and theological debate.
Noah leans into me and rests his head on my shoulder. “We’re going to look after each other, aren’t we?”
We all exchange glances.
I know we are powerless – it’s obvious and I’m sure they both know that too and that it doesn’t need to be said – not right now.
“I’ll do whatever I can.” I say. ’I swear it.“
“Me too,’ says Jacob. ’I swear it too.”
“But no matter what,” I say, “no matter what they do to us. Can we do this? Because this is the only thing keeping me going.”
Jacob stands up and opens his arms for us. Noah and I cling to him and one another and he kisses both of us on the forehead.
“I’ll go one better,�
� he says. “I’m going to get us out of here. It might not happen at once but as soon as I can make it happen, we’re leaving.”
I don’t say anything and neither does Noah but I trust Jacob. If he says he’s going to do it then I believe him.
We go back to our own beds and nothing more is said. We lay there until Gareth comes to get us. He takes us on a two hour walk through the forest. He keeps a fast paste in his boots and trying to keep up with him while wearing sandals is not a straightforward thing. At one point I see one of the guards who brought me here patrolling the outside of the camp. I tap Jacob on the shoulder and point the guard out. Jacob sees him, then looks back at me and nods.
When we get back we go in for dinner. There is a different atmosphere in the canteen, much more subdued. I soon realise that the other nine inmates must have been through the same thing as us today. They all wince as they sit down to eat.
After dinner everyone sits outside round the campfire. Tyson brings out a guitar and we all sing hymns. It’s almost like something enjoyable. After a couple of hymns, Lee stands up. “I’m off back to the hotel for some sleep. Your group leaders will look after you for the night. Don’t give them any problems.”
He leaves and after a minute or so I hear a car start up and drive away. There are a few more hymns after he goes and then we’re sent to bed.
The moon shines through the window on the far side of the dorm, making it almost as bright as day. There are no blinds of any kind on them and I can’t sleep unless I’m in total dark, so I lay on my back and look at the ceiling. Within minutes I can hear Jacob quietly purring.
Noah is turning every few seconds, moaning when he inadvertently moves onto his back. “Malachi, I want to go home. I don’t like it here.”
I lean on my side to find him doing the same and facing me. I don’t know what to say.
He seems to understand. “I know you can’t do anything.”
He is right. What power do I have? I have no idea what will come next, what further tortures are awaiting us. All I know is that I doubt I'll escape the worst of the next ordeal.
It’s hard to look at him as he lies there so expectantly. I want to rescue him. What comfort do I have to offer him if I can't find any for myself? And then, perhaps, there is one thing. I don’t know what makes me do it but I pull the covers off myself, take off my sweatshirt and pull down my bottoms so he can see me naked.
His face changes at once. He too takes his sweatshirt off and pulls off his bottoms. The moonlight lights up his body like a UV bulb in ashen blue. He is so thin you can seen his hip bone and the ribs that are trying to break through his chest.
I reach down to my cock and play with it, though nothing happens as usual. I watch as he strokes his body from his nipples to his belly. His hand brushes through the wisp of hair on his groin and he grips the underside of his cock as it begins to harden.
I pull back my foreskin and show him everything. Then he stops, gets out of his bed and slides in next to me. “Let’s see if I can get yours working.”
He kisses me on the lips and slips his tongue into my mouth like a hot plum, so sweet and warm. He runs a hand down my body and grabs my cock, which is already hard. So that is all it took?
All the times I looked at pictures of naked men. All the times I fantasised about guys being naked in my bed. It did nothing for me. Even now I don’t know why. I’ve known Noah a day and in my heart I’ve felt closer to him with each second that’s ticked by. His face, his smile, his touch – oh my, his touch.
He strokes me gently.
I force his tongue back into his own mouth with mine, then run it back over his teeth. His eyes stay open staring into mine.
My hand runs down from his shoulder to his belly. “Can I touch you?”
“You can do anything you like.”
I put my hand between his legs and feel the loose skin around his balls, then take his cock in my hand. He kisses me again as we wank one another. Then he moans and I feel his cum land on me. This sensation makes me spasm and cramp and he leads me into my first waking orgasm. I moan. He forces his tongue into my mouth again, I think to quieten me. I lay back and pant.
He puts his arm over my chest and rests his head on my shoulders and I kiss his forehead.
“That’s nice.” he says.
I’ve never felt this close to someone in my life and it’s not only the sex, that’s part of it but it’s more than that. It’s his body against mine in this place that we both hate. I can feel his happiness being with me and there’s something else – my mind is quiet – it has nothing to say. There is only Noah and me, touching and this feeling that somehow we’re feeding off one another yet not giving away anything vital.
“I love…”
He interrupts me before I can get it out. “Don’t say it, not tonight. This is all new to you and this isn’t a normal place. If you mean it tell me it tomorrow and then every second after that.”
I kiss his forehead again. The come on my belly is now so cold and feels sticky as it starts to dry. I feel so warm and protected and fall asleep with him lying over me.
“Guys, guys, come on. You have to get up.”
I open my eyes to see Jacob standing over us. Noah turns and is about to slip off the bed so I grab and steady him.
“You two!” Jacob laughs. “Well it was bound to happen. You better get dressed before Gareth comes in and finds you like that.”
Noah gets up and dresses and I do the same. He sits down on his bed and I smile at him. then I walk over and kiss him on the lips, so warm and sweet.
Chapter Ten
I go outside by myself to get some air. The fire is almost out so I put on a few logs and sit down beside it. The flames flare up once again and the fresh logs crackle
I am hypnotised by the fire and for a few moments am able to forget where I am; I get back to thinking about my plans for university once all of this is behind me. I'll have three A levels. I could start this year if I go through clearing or I could wait a year, do three more A levels and get into Oxford. Then I’d be fifteen, the same age as Anne-Marie Imafidon who is the youngest person so far to be accepted onto a degree programme at Oxford. At fifteen I’d still have to live with my parents and, at the moment, I don’t think they would want to move. So I don’t know what will happen when I tell them I'm going to be doing physics. If I said I wanted to do a theology degree I think they would change their minds. For me that's a non-starter.
In our emails this is one of the subjects Sam and I have discussed at length. He thinks I should wait till I’m sixteen to start my degree as I’ll be able to live by myself and make my own choices but I don’t think he fully understands the pressures there are living at home. If there’s any chance I could move away now, I would.
This – I know now that I will get through this. What is there to worry about? I don’t know for sure. I might get another beating. Can I endure it? I think I can and I have Jacob and Noah to look after and to look after me. In this light I am thankful. I’ve made two gay friends and one of them I know I am deeply in love with. In the balance will that make this whole experience worthwhile? Right now I'm basking in the beautiful glow of the irony that I had to come to stop being gay camp to have sex for the first time.
Then I think about how easily I got an erection last night and I wonder if my illness was truly to blame. Was all I needed the touch of someone who loved me, or even the touch of someone I fancied, or maybe even just touch? I hope that what I needed was love. It was more than touch; our bodies were twined trunks, branches grown together in spirals. Is it terrible that all I know of love is from poetry?
Everything is so uncertain now. Noah adds to my strength and adds to my troubles. How can it be after so short a time I would offer myself up to take his punishments for him? I know there must be more to come and I know that we are in danger. If the three of us stick together then I'm certain we will be safe.
Our parents signed us away to the care of these Christi
an people and I do believe they all believe in God. I’m thankful I’m an atheist. I don’t know what torture it would be to find oneself gay and actually believe you were going to burn in hell for it.
What did my dad know about this place before he sent me here? Did he know I’d be stripped and beaten, clawed at and ogled by people who were in denial about what they are? Could my dad comprehend the complexities of this situation? Ex-gay they call themselves. If my dad believes you can be cured then there's no way he would see it.
I love Noah. I know it's too soon to say. The way Gareth looks at him is the scariest thing about this camp.
Jacob and Noah join me outside and we wait for Gareth to come and tell us what we’ll be doing. When he and the other group leaders assemble with us we take turns showering in our groups, still under the eyes of Gareth – who still can’t keep from staring at Noah.
After breakfast we have to assemble around the fire. Lee tells us about what’s happening next.
“Out in the forest, around the camp, we’ve set up individual spaces for you all. For the next three days you’re all going to be spending your time outside by yourselves. The only thing you’re allowed to take with you are your bibles and the bag of food we’re going to be giving you. You’re responsible for your own food and don’t ask for any more if you eat it all in one day. You’re only allowed to talk when one of the leaders talks to you. You must go to the toilet in the trench that has been dug for you. When you’ve done number two put your used toilet paper in the bag that’s been provided and we’ll burn it at the end of the three days. Then cover up your droppings in dirt. If you break any of the rules you’ll have to start the whole thing again. Don’t think you’re getting out of woodcutting either. You’ll be doing it by yourself for half an hour a day.
The Crucifixion and Resurrection of Malachi the Queer Page 10