Thinking Straight

by Robin Reardon

  My turn to grin. “I know. He’s already been talking to me. In my head, anyway.” I decide to take a risk. “Wanna know one thing he said?”

  “Sure.” He looks like he thinks I’m gonna say something sugary. He’s wrong. I tell him who Jesus’s favorite is. And after I’ve told him, he has to stuff his shirttail into his mouth this time, he’s laughing so hard. After a minute he starts to recover, and I can’t resist saying, “Shall I find you a sheet to roll around on?”

  He sobers up pretty quickly. “Do you know why I did that?”

  “No.”

  “Same reason I ratted on you your first day. For humming that tune.”

  “What?” Too loud.

  “Shh! Listen, I have a cover to maintain, and you need to know what will get you the wrong kind of attention. So I killed two birds with one stone.”

  I nearly hiss at him, “But I got punished for the sheet thing!”

  “And that was extremely useful to me. The way you responded? What you did tonight? It convinced me that I could give you Will’s note. That article, I mean. That I could let you know what’s going on here besides what you see. That I could invite you to join us.”

  I rub my face. I don’t know how much more confusion I can take. “Join who?”

  “Taylor, you don’t buy into this stuff the way Reverend Bartle and Dr. Strickland do. You don’t even buy into it the way Charles does. But you get Jesus. You understand his message the way I do. You know he wants us to love each other and accept each other. Right?”

  I nod, wondering what I’m getting myself into. I say, “Connection.”

  “Exactly! There are others here who feel the same way. There are others every year. Which is part of why I keep coming back. It’s not that the Bible is wrong. It’s that it’s being used wrong. It’s not a weapon for people like Marie to hurl at people. It’s not an arsenal of weapons to use on each other. If there are swords in the Bible, they’re for God to use on the reader, not for the readers to use on each other.”

  “And what do you think you can do about that?”

  “If I could have gotten to Ray, I might have helped him hang on till he got out of here safely. I’m helping Leland hold on. And I’m trying to help Charles hold on. And then there’s the kids in the circle, and we help each other understand and then spread the word. And I think you could be one of us.”

  “Circle.”

  “It’s just how we refer to the group. I got invited about half way through my first visit, and the next summer I was asked to lead it. And I’m leading it again this year.”

  “And you want me in it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What would I have to do?”

  “For one thing, keep your mouth shut about it. No one but the leader is supposed to tell any other resident. If there’s someone you think should be invited, then you’d tell the group. We’d talk about it and figure out a way to be sure it was the right move and make the decision together.”

  “And you’ve already decided about me?”

  “Sean suggested you right away. I had my eye on you anyway because of what I’d told Will.”

  Had his eye on me. And ratted on me immediately. Suddenly I have to know something. “Remember at that break when I hummed “Battle Hymn” to you? Were you, like, thinking of any lyrics in particular?”

  He chuckles. “I think you have a pretty good idea. They can get pretty raunchy. But there is one alternative line I’ve always liked: ‘We’ve broken all the rules; our truth is marching on.’”

  We sit there a couple of minutes, him kind of waiting to see what I say next, me trying to think which of the fifty million things I want to start with. My first priority wins. “Is Will coming back?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure when. And if you start hanging out at that end of the break yard, I’ll have to tell him to stay away for your own good. What’s your threat, by the way?”

  “Threat?”

  “What will happen to you if you get kicked out of here, whatever?”

  “Military school.”

  Nate shakes his head. “I almost wish they’d think of something original. It’s the most common one. But it’s not the worst. I know of a kid who got literally thrown out on the streets. Had to go into foster care for a year. And then there are those who wait until they’ve left here to really get out. The way Ray got out, I mean. Taylor?” He waits until I look at him. “You aren’t likely to do that, are you?”

  “Hell, no. I want out of here alive so I can be with Will again. So I can have my life back. I won’t give it to them.”

  “You know, they aren’t actually evil here.” I open my mouth and he holds a hand up. “I know, I read that article. I know what Dr. Strickland said. But you need to remember that he really, really thinks he’s doing what God wants. He wants to love you. It’s just that he wants to do it in a very limited way. But he doesn’t see it like that. Do you know about Mrs. Harnett’s older son?”

  I shake my head, wondering how many other stories Nate can tell me.

  “Her gay son was in the program, but when he got out he told her he hated her and left to go live in San Francisco. She hasn’t heard from him since.”

  “And this makes her feel how, exactly?”

  “She doesn’t talk about it a lot. But Taylor,” and again he waits to make sure he’s got my attention, “there is sin here. Around the gay thing. But it isn’t yours. Sin is doing something, or not doing something, that causes love to stop. Whether it’s your love or someone else’s. So in the case here, the sin is with people who try to condemn you for being what you are. Dr. Strickland saying that about suicide, that’s totally sin. What he’s doing to kids like Ray is causing them to hate themselves. Look at Charles. Poor fellow is desperate to find something to love about himself, and no matter how good he manages to be, he can’t be someone he isn’t. And as long as he believes people like Dr. Strickland, he can’t love who he is. The ironic thing, if you think about it, is we’re actually commanded to love ourselves. Indirectly.”

  He waits until I bite. “What do you mean?”

  “In Matthew, chapter twenty-two, verse thirty-nine, Jesus says that the second greatest commandment, after loving God, is ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Well, you can’t do that unless you already love yourself. Jesus commands us to love each other, and he compares it to loving ourselves. So, Taylor, love yourself. Jesus commands it. And Dr. Strickland’s approach stops that, because he’s trying to convince boys like Ray and Charles that God can’t love them as they are, and if God can’t love you, how can you love yourself? So what Dr. Strickland is doing goes against the commandment, and that’s sin.”

  He’s got my attention all right, and I wonder if he realizes he’s just outed Charles. “Look, Nate, I know Charles is gay. You don’t have to out him to me. But—why would they give him Ray, or me, for a roommate? Why do they put two gay guys in a room together and then say, ‘Don’t do it’?”

  Nate chuckles. “I guess that might seem a little odd if you don’t know the rationale. They would put a guy like you in with Charles for a couple of reasons. One is that Charles is so, so determined that prayer can change him that he’d never allow anything to happen between you, and he’s seen as nearly ex-gay by the directorship here. Plus you’re supposed to see, through his example, that you can do it, too. And if they gave kids private rooms, how long do you think it would be before there was some illicit entertainment going on? So they have the new gay kids room with guys like Charles whenever they can, and he can keep an eye on you and provide an example at the same time. They don’t always put new gay residents in with other gay kids, but when they’ve identified someone they think can help, they do it. And if you need another reason, didn’t they already tell you that which sin you’ve committed isn’t important? That what matters is that it was sin? If they want to maintain that position, they can’t on principle avoid putting gays with gays.”

  That makes a certain amount of sense. But in one w
ay, Charles isn’t a very good example. He sure as hell doesn’t love himself. My mind goes back to Nate’s comment about that “second greatest commandment.” I’ve heard of things that have a gay subtext, but the idea of a subtext of any kind in scripture was totally new to me. I said, “I’ve never heard anyone talk about loving ourselves, like what you said a minute ago. Or about that commandment like that.”

  “If you join us, you’ll hear lots more of this kind of approach. This is what we do. We reassess the Bible in terms of who we are, not in terms of who some small group of people think we should be. We apply it to who we really are. You can’t fake who you really are. And you can’t fake love.”

  “This circle. Is it all gays?”

  “Most of the members are gay, because they’re the ones who really don’t belong in here. Like I said, the program can help kids like me. The members who aren’t gay come to circle because they’re interested in a deeper understanding of the scriptures.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Depends on the week and who leaves the program. And not everyone comes every time we meet. It would look suspicious if the same kids were missing frequently. Usually we have about five in any meeting. We try to meet at least twice a week, different nights. I don’t always come; that would definitely arouse suspicion. There was going to be a meeting tonight, but we decided to invite you. And this way, if you decide to rat—well, I’m the only one you know about.”

  “I’m not ratting.”

  He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

  We sit there for a minute, him watching me and me poking into my shoe with a finger. I know he’s waiting for an answer, but I don’t know if I’m ready. I stall for time. “Why couldn’t you get to Ray?”

  “Charles. Ray was Charles’s roommate before you, remember? He kept a pretty tight leash on Ray, especially after Marie reported Ray and Leland. Charles stuck to him like glue, determined not to let him slip.”

  “So how did Ray get away from him?”

  “After Prayer Meeting on the second night of his SafeZone assignment, he begged Charles to let him go to the chapel alone. Charles undoubtedly knew that John would be watching Leland…”

  “John?”

  “John McAndrews. He’s Leland’s roommate.”

  “Not Rick Caruso’s?”

  “No. Rick’s just a hanger-on. He’s kind of a McAndrews groupie.”

  “How did Leland and John get into different Prayer Meetings?”

  “Bit of a long story having to do with John’s status here. He’s like me—keeps coming back. But for different reasons. For now, I’ll just tell you that he’s definitely not in our circle. Enough said?”

  “For now.”

  “Fair enough. Anyway, Charles insisted on walking Ray to the chapel, but he agreed to leave him alone in there. Ray must have sneaked back to the nearest bedroom that had no one in it at the moment, took a sheet from the bed, tore it into strips, and tied them together. Then he hung himself from the balcony in the chapel.”

  Holy shit, for real. This explains a lot about Charles’s behavior, especially since Leland’s Apology. “Wait—you said Ray begged Charles. But Ray was in SafeZone.”

  “He wrote.”

  Something about Nate’s tone makes me remember one of my burning questions. “What happens to the pieces of paper that SafeZone kids write on?”

  Nate looks at me out of the corner of his eyes for a second. “Why do you ask?”

  “Someone collects them, don’t they?”

  “Have you ever looked at the bottom of the wastebasket in your room?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  “It identifies your room. So it identifies you. And your handwriting.”

  “And they go through the trash,” I finish for him. “I thought so.”

  It’s Nate’s turn to be curious. “What made you think that?”

  “Harnett told me I was abusing the writing option. That I wasn’t using it only for emergencies. So if she knows what I write, then either Charles and Sean deliberately turned them in to her—they’re who I wrote to—or someone goes through the trash. But they know, don’t they? Charles and Sean? They know someone goes through the trash. I wrote to Sean to ask who the heck you were, and he crumpled it up and stuffed it into his pocket.”

  Nate looks worried all of a sudden. “What made you ask him about me?”

  “You seemed like contradiction after contradiction. One minute you’re giggling at lyrics you know are obscene even though I’m only humming, and the next you’re spouting scripture like everyone else here. Then you give Leland a quiet shoulder squeeze when he needs it, but you yell at Sheldon and me for nothing. So, yeah. I knew there was something wacko going on. But if it’s any comfort to you, I would never have guessed about the circle.”

  He’s nodding. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. I just need to be really careful how I balance those two sides. And I’m guessing you had a better chance than most to notice it, ’cause I was focused on you.” He shifts his leg position and says, “So. What do you think? Will you meet with us?”

  “Sean’s in the group?”

  Nate looks a little uncomfortable. “No. Sean…well, Sean supports us, but he’s in a tough position. He works for the church most of the year. This has been his summer assignment for a few years now, and he needs it. He avoided prison on condition that he work here—Reverend Bartle spoke for him—and he can’t afford to be caught in a group like this. Plus I think he’s still too confused about the gay issue. So. Will you meet with us?”

  What would Will do?

  “Yes.”

  Nate extends a hand to me, and I take it. He says, “Be here tomorrow night after Prayer Meeting. Follow me inconspicuously so you’ll know how to get in. And Taylor, I think you should know that this is the first time I know of that someone’s been asked to join so soon after they got here.”

  I nod, not sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. “Who else is in the group?”

  He just grins at me. “You’ll meet them all, I promise. And now I have a suggestion I think you’ll like. Would you like to write a couple of lines for me to give to Will next time he shows up?”

  Would I! “Now?”

  “I have a pen and I have a piece of paper. Here you go. And Taylor, no names. But if you can think of some symbol or something that would help him be sure it’s from you, include that.”

  I think for a minute, imagining Will coming all the way out here all those times just to exchange notes with Nate. Which is a risk for everyone. Much as I want to think of him as close by, it’s almost worse knowing I can’t see him except through Nate. So I write, “You’ll be there; I trust that. And soon I’ll be with you. So no need to do this again. GLYASDI.” I fold it up and hand it to Nate. He opens it.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry, kiddo. It’s my reputation on the line here, and the safety of several others depends on us doing everything right.” He reads. “Um, what’s GLYASDI?”

  “It’s IM lingo. God Loves You And So Do I. He’ll know it’s from me.”

  “Cool. I like it. You’re telling him not to come again?”

  I take a shaky breath. “It seems best.”

  Nate looks at me hard for a few seconds. “I knew we were doing the right thing with you. And now, my friend, we need to get back. I’m hoping Charles is asleep, but if he isn’t he’ll be watching the clock on account of you. Plus someone will be prowling the halls looking for reprobates and curfew breakers.”

  “Wait—how are you helping him?” Suddenly it’s important.

  “I’m trying to give him some balance. Working with scripture to help him let go of the guilt. Otherwise he’ll make himself crazy in no time.”

  “Does Harnett know?”

  “Let’s just say she knows I have a way with some of the residents.”

  “Did I do something wrong tonight? Using scripture to make my points?”

  Nate think
s for a minute. “No, not wrong, exactly. It was like you were taking on a role that’s traditionally used by program leaders, though. Kind of a teaching role. You’re new, so you couldn’t have known that. But it shows a certain initiative that most kids who come here don’t have, at least in the beginning, and later they don’t show it the way you did. If new kids show initiative, it’s in other areas. Like rebellion. Now, we need to get outta here, brother!”

  It feels great to have him call me that, and I’m grinning as I grab my Bible and get onto my feet. On the way to the door I ask, “What do you think I should do with the article? I’ve been trying to come up with a good hiding place.”

  “Taylor, if you so much as pick your nose in this place, they’ll know. Tear it up in little shreds and flush it down a toilet.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “You have to. If you can’t promise me you will, I’ll have to take it back and destroy it myself. You gotta understand, if someone finds it, you won’t be the only one taken down.”

  “I told you, I wouldn’t rat.”

  Just before opening the door to leave the laundry room, Nate stands still and looks at me. “Did Reverend Bartle take you to the chapel your first day here?”

  “Yeah.” It’s a scene I’d rather not remember.

  “Do you even remember what you said? And do you want to do that again?”

  “But…God, I can’t destroy this! It’s all I have of Will.”

  “Are you kidding?” Nate hits me on the shoulder. “He talks to you in your head, doesn’t he?”

  So I promise. But it hurts.

  Back at the room, Charles has gone to bed and left my desk light on for me, like I’d done for him yesterday. Was it yesterday? All I know is that it’s Wednesday night, I’m out of SafeZone, Will is waiting for me and I’ll be with him again in five and a half weeks, and—the most amazing thing of all—this place is either nowhere near as crazy as I’d been thinking or it’s even crazier.

  I sit for a little while at my desk, Bible open to Will’s note. I don’t read the article again; it would only make me angry. And I don’t want to feel anything negative right now. So I focus on the green ink at the bottom. “I’ll be here.” And “KOTL”—Kiss On The Lips. I close my eyes for a minute and imagine that. Of course, body parts other than lips get involved in my fantasy, and I’m going to be in trouble if I don’t stop.