Here’s what the paper says.
L—
If you find this and something’s happened to me, it’s Reverend Bartle. I couldn’t tell you before because he said he’d hurt you too if I told anyone. But if this is still here and I’m not, look out for him.
—R
Suddenly this is even more important than what’s crinkling in my pocket. I mean, Holy Fucking Shit.
“Leland, what do you think this means?”
“He didn’t kill himself!” I can barely hear him, his voice is catching so badly. His eyes are streaming. “Reverend Bartle killed him! Don’t you see?”
I look down at the note again. I’ve come to the same conclusion, but—I mean, I’m no fan of the guy, but could that possibly be true? And why? I ask, “Where did you find this?”
Leland rubs his face and gains a little control. “I was sitting on my bed, writing a letter home, and the mattress slid a little. When I got up to move it back I saw a corner of this sticking out from underneath.”
I guess they haven’t tossed that room. Of course not; John is Leland’s roommate. “So you believe he meant to come and fetch it again if all was well, or for you to find it if all wasn’t?”
“Taylor, what should we do?”
I have to ask. “Why did you come to me with this? Why not John or Mrs. Harnett?”
“Nate told me that if I ever needed to talk to someone and I couldn’t find him, I should go to you. I couldn’t find him.”
Well, this floors me. Nate could have told a person, for one thing. But why me? Whatever; the deed is done. And now I’m the one who needs to find Nate. But first I have another question. “What do you think Ray meant by hurting you? What’s hurt mean, d’you think?”
Leland swallows and kind of shudders at the same time. “I think he was raping Ray.”
“What?” I have to slap a hand over my own mouth, that comes out so loud. “Why would Ray let him do that?”
“You didn’t know him. He was…well, he was small and kind of pretty. And his uncle used to, you know, hurt him—when he was younger. He was all mixed up about it. He really wanted not to be gay, I think partly because he thought that might make him safe. And maybe he thought Reverend Bartle could help him. But I don’t know why Ray would let him do that.”
Christ. He must have been very mixed up. “But why would Bartle kill him?”
“Ray must have wanted to stop. He must have said he’d tell or something, don’t you think?”
It makes sense, if you can picture the thing in the first place. “What makes you think Bartle was doing that?”
“Ray was always being called to the chapel, and he wouldn’t tell me why. But every time he got one of those notes, he’d clam up and wouldn’t talk to me until the next day. I got curious once and followed, thinking if I overheard what they were talking about, maybe I’d understand. But I couldn’t hear anything, so I barely cracked the door, and I still couldn’t hear anything. I opened it. And Taylor, there was no one in there! He’d gone in. I’m sure of that.”
“Are you sure the notes were from Bartle?”
“Yeah. I saw a couple of them before Ray started being secretive about them.”
This is too much. What the hell am I going to do with this? Some of the smarmy feelings I’d had earlier today—Bartle’s hand on mine, going over all that sex stuff, when he asked about my relationship with Charles—come back to me and it’s my turn to shudder. If it’s true, then it could be happening to someone else right now.
Jesus Fucking Christ. Is he doing something to Charles? All that time in the chapel…
I slam my Bible shut. “Leland, are you a little calmer now?”
“Sort of.”
“Do you think you could act casual and try again to find Nate while I go ask Charles something?”
“Okay. I’ll try. What should I do if I find him?”
I check my watch; an hour and a half to dinner. “Tell him to meet me in Isaiah. I’ll get there as soon as I can. If we don’t hook up before dinner, then tell Nate what you told me. Do you want the note back, or do you want me to hang on to it?”
He takes a shaky breath. “I’ll take it.”
I know how he feels. “We can’t lose it, do you understand?” He nods. I pass it back to him and give his hand a gentle squeeze as he takes it. “Okay. See you soon.”
It is so hard to walk back to my room as though I wouldn’t fly there if I could. I’m hoping Charles is still at his desk.
But no. Shit. I check his desk to see if maybe he’s gone to the bathroom and will be back, but everything’s packed neatly away. I nearly run to the library, but almost no one is in there, including Charles. So I head for Isaiah, where I wait for maybe twenty minutes, pacing back and forth, picking things up and putting them down, restacking Bibles, anything I can think of. Finally Nate and Leland arrive, and I can tell Leland’s already told him enough.
I say, “Leland, did you happen to see Charles as you were looking for Nate?”
He shakes his head, and Nate says, “Why?”
I take a deep breath. “Let’s just say I’m worried.”
Nate understands immediately. His face goes from very intense to very calm rather quickly and he says, “Tell you what, brothers. Shall we avail ourselves of the cool of our beautiful little chapel this hot summer afternoon? Shall we go and pray?”
I get it. “Why, yes, brother Nate. Let’s just do that.”
Leland looks perplexed, but he comes with us. Quietly, Nate tells him, “We’re going to see if there’s anyone in the chapel. If there isn’t, we’ll go in and sit quietly as long as we can until dinnertime. We’ll just see what happens. And then we’ll decide what to do. Remember: quiet.”
At the chapel, we listen carefully at the door. Can’t hear a thing. Nate cracks it open a teeny bit, and still no sound. So we go in. There’s no one anywhere in sight, and it’s silent. So we hunch down side by side in the back pew far to one end, open some Bibles, and wait.
And wait. And wait, until dinnertime is within about half an hour. Then the door in the front to the side of the altar opens, and we hunker down even further. And who should come through that door but Charles. He doesn’t see us. He walks down the far side of the chapel, head down. His face is all crumpled, he’s breathing oddly, and he’s holding his rib cage with his arms like he’s in agony.
When he’s gone, Nate whispers, “Let’s get out of here. We don’t want the good reverend to see us.”
Nate leads us to his room, which is empty, thank God. He’s getting a new roommate tomorrow, he says, but right now the room is his. We huddle behind the door, listening carefully for sounds from the hallway, and talk.
I start. “Well, this burns it. I’ve got to talk to Charles. This has got to stop! I can’t fucking…”
“Stop!” Nate says. “You won’t. I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll come to your room well before lights-out, you’ll make yourself scarce for as long as you dare without breaking curfew, and I’ll see what I can find out.”
“You? Why you?”
“Taylor, brother, I love you. And I love your directness. But what Charles needs is gentleness. He’s going to clam up if there’s a frontal assault. Obviously, he has some reason to think this is what needs to happen. Maybe he’s punishing himself. Maybe any number of things. But he hasn’t said anything about it to anyone so far, so it’s not going to be easy to get it out of him now. So. Agreed?”
It’s grudging, but I say, “All right.”
I find Charles at dinner. He’s sitting with a kid who’s in SafeZone. Interesting; that concept works two ways sometimes, doesn’t it? Charles doesn’t have to talk.
“Can I join you?”
He won’t look at me. He says, “Please don’t take offense. I just want to sit quietly. Please, can you sit someplace else?”
I struggle with my directness. Gentle, Taylor. Be gentle. “You want the room tonight? I can go to the library.”
He does look
at me now. He looks—God, he looks awful. It makes me feel shaky. Then he closes his eyes and nods. So I find Nate and sit with him. Sheldon is with him, as well as Leland, so I can’t say anything. But we wait Sheldon out, and after he’s gone I tell Nate, “Charles wants to be alone. I told him he could have the room and I’d go to the library. He looked grateful. So he’s all yours.”
Nate smiles at me. “Thanks, Taylor.”
“See? I can be gentle.” I grin back at him.
Nate turns to Leland. “Hey, kid, do you mind giving Taylor and me a couple of minutes?”
“Yeah, okay. Taylor, can I hang out in the library with you?”
Nate speaks first. “Just be careful. The three of us have been together for a while this afternoon. It would be better if you don’t sit together.”
Leland sighs and leaves.
Nate watches him a few seconds and then turns to me. “You may need to be even more gentle later. Tell you what. I’ll come find you in the library if it doesn’t get too close to lights-out and let both of you know how it went. You may not be able to say much of anything to Charles if he’s in a lot of pain. If it’s really bad, I might just take him to…Um, actually, Taylor, I’m gonna have to trust you with something really huge. Are you okay with that, or don’t you want this burden? It’s big.”
“If it has anything to do with helping Charles, I can carry whatever I need to.” Even as I say this, I’m thinking how only a week ago I couldn’t stand the sight of Charles. He was an android. A suck-up. A brownnoser. A loser.
Nate sits back casually and takes a few seconds to look around. Most people have left by now, except Charles is still at his lonely table. The SafeZone kid is gone. There are maybe five kids left in the dining hall. Nate leans forward again and talks in really quiet tones.
“You know the circle?”
“Holy sh…I almost forgot! There’s a meeting tonight.”
“There is. And I won’t be there. I want you to lead it. I’ll go to the library and find Leland. I’ll tell him I’ve got you working on something and you won’t be there until later. Okay?”
“Wait, wait. Back up. You want me to do what?”
“I want you to lead. Have Peter lead the litany unless you’re sure you remember it, and then ask if anyone has any struggles. If so, encourage the whole group to talk about it. Then tell them I’ve asked you to introduce the Job lesson you told me about. Keep an eye on the time, and about half an hour before lights-out—not later—wrap it up and have the group hold hands in unity. We’ll try to meet again Tuesday, but tell them it’s tentative. If they don’t hear, there’s no meeting. Got it?”
“You want me to do what?”
“Taylor, knock it off. You know very well you can do this. In fact, you want to do this. So just do it. Tell them I got tied up and asked you to.”
“Who’s Peter?”
“Now, Taylor, I’m sure you remember Peter. I saw the two of you working on the cables for the band setup. Why do you think John went over to distract you?” I just blink at him. “Don’t play coy. There was more electricity coming from you than the band used for their whole show. By the way, just so you know, Peter’s not gay.” He grins at me. “Now. Can we go to the confidential part?”
I take a deep breath and nod. Jeez; leading the circle. But he’s right; I can do it.
“Okay. If things get bad with Charles, which is to say that if he, like, you know, goes to pieces, I may have to call Mrs. Harnett.”
“Huh?”
“Hush. Here’s the confidential part. She’s my mother.”
“But…but her son moved away! And you’re not gay! You told me….”
“Will you be quiet and let me finish?” He waits. I make a face. He says, “That was my older brother. I’m trying to work on him. He doesn’t believe how much she’s changed. But that’s another story. The important part is that she’s with us. She’s completely bought into how much good this place can do. Like I told you, kids like me. But now she understands about the gay thing. She hates Dr. Strickland’s position, and she knows about the circle. She supports it. And, by the way, she had nothing to do with your room getting searched; that shocked her.”
I interrupt. “Do you think John knew?”
“No, John’s not like that. I know he’s a bit narrow in his approach, and he couldn’t tolerate the circle, but he’d never terrorize someone. He’s in on a lot that goes on around here—he’s being groomed for Leadership—but he doesn’t know about me. People like Dr. Strickland and—I can’t call him Reverend—Bartle know about Mom and me, but no more than that.”
“But…” There has to be something wrong with this picture. All I can think of is, “Your name’s different. You’re not Nate Harnett.”
“My father left us not long after I was born. She married my stepfather about five years ago.”
I have a test for him. “What’s her first name?”
“Caroline.”
I don’t even remember if that’s true. He sounds convincing, but…It’s not that I can’t see the picture. It’s just that the disconnect is so huge. Have I been imagining that Nate’s been as critical about her as I have? Have I been assuming that he’s bought into my position about the leadership of this place? I guess I have. He did tell me, the night he asked me to join the circle, that they aren’t all evil here. I’m gonna have to give this some more thought later. Right now, I do my best to get with the program. Nate’s program. I say, “Okay. So if it gets to be too close to lights-out, I’ll go to my room. If no one’s there, I’ll assume you’ve taken him to…um, Mrs. Harnett. Is that it?”
“That’s it.”
Like that’s all there is to it. Like this hasn’t been an even crazier day for me than last Sunday was. Sunday. Half a year ago, now. But—“Why can’t we get to her now?”
“She’s not here. My grandmother is very sick, and Mom spends as much time as she can with her lately. She can come back if it’s an emergency, and I can get to a car if I have to, but she’s almost an hour away.” We just look at each other for a minute, and then he says, “I wouldn’t have burdened you with this except for this thing with Charles. You may need to create some cover. Leland’s not going to sit quietly by and wait for the truth to make itself known in the fullness of time. He’s going to want resolution. And he can’t know about the circle. You, um, you may need to lie.”
“I’m prepared for that.” Now that I think of it, Mrs. Harnett wasn’t here last Sunday either. “But there was a Prayer Meeting last Sunday. Who led it?”
“John.”
“John? McAndrews?” Being groomed, all right.
“The same.” He waits, but I don’t know what to say to that. So he says, “Taylor, I’m really glad you’re here. I know I can count on you.”
I have to look down at the table. One of those Aw-shucks moments.
He says, “We need to get going. You’ve got circle soon. Get the key from Sean and be at the laundry room before seven thirty. It’s earlier tonight because of no Prayer Meeting. Let me leave here ahead of you.” He looks around and so do I. Charles is still sitting there, so Nate says, “I’ll go help the kitchen-cleanup crew for a bit.” And I know he’ll watch for when Charles leaves.
It’s a little early, but I decide to pick up my Bible and head for Sean’s room to get the key. On the way I carelessly shove the hand not holding my Bible into my pocket. Guess what’s there.
I want to smack myself in the head. How could I have forgotten that? But then, considering everything else that’s going on, I suppose I could be forgiven. It’s not like I’ve forgotten Will. I smile, thinking of his kisses.
Bless Sean’s gorgeous black head, he’s in his room. “Hey,” I greet him. He responds in kind. I say, “Nate told me to get the key from you. He can’t come tonight, so he asked me to open the room and get things started.”
He looks at me a little suspiciously. “Where’s Peter?”
I guess Peter must usually do this when Nate can’
t. I shrug. “Nate was pressed for time and I was at dinner with him.”
“I guess it’s okay.” He digs in his desk and hands me the key.
And then I get an inspiration. “Listen, I have a favor to ask.” He looks at me like he’s afraid of what I’m going to say. I peek into the room just to make sure no one else is there, and although he doesn’t have a roommate, there’s a desk behind the door. Great. “I need a place to sit quietly and read something.”
“Read something. Not your Bible, I take it.”
“Uh, no. But I can hold it inside my Bible for cover if that helps. Can I sit at the other desk?”
He gets up and peers into the hall. No one is around. “Okay. But be quiet. And do put it in the Bible, will you?”
I turn the chair so the back is to the wall and pull the wad of paper out. It’s a printer-friendly version of a newspaper article. It’s all I can do not to start reading before I have it positioned, but I’d promised Sean. I do cheat a little and look first for green ink, which is right there at the top: “ESO!” And a little farther down: “YAIMP.” Equipment Smarter than Operator? What does he mean by that? Have I been in here so long I can’t remember IM lingo anymore? I get You’re Always In My Prayers, but ESO?
Puzzled, I lay it out flat, fold it into quarters, open the Bible to the Gospel of John, and tuck it in before I settle down to read. And you won’t believe what I read.
It’s kind of long, so I have to unfold and flip a lot, but here’s the gist: In this scientific study, gay men responded to the pheromones of other gay men more than they responded to the pheromones of straight men. And they didn’t respond to female pheromones at all! So help me God. That’s what it says. Something to do with an interaction between the hypothalamus and the pituitary. The report from the study came out in 2005.
Holy Mary, mother of God.
I read it so quickly the first time that when I’m done I have a hard time believing I didn’t just make stuff up. So I read it again. And it says the same thing the second time. I look up at Sean, and he’s watching me. He says, “You okay? You’re making some odd noises over there.”
Thinking Straight Page 25
