God Says No

by James Hannaham

  Turning to Nicky for only a second, I noticed the hole above his collarbone and accidentally dreamed about filling it with my tongue. Suddenly he raised his eyes. Nicky met my eyes shamelessly and I turned away. “Wandering thoughts are all on their way to Hell,” I’d read in some of the literature. We continued the Bible study like nothing had happened. A few minutes later, when I pointed to a passage, Nicky sat next to me on my bed to look on. He leaned into my personal space and tried to slip back into the conversation. Over on the desk, my ] esuses looked the other way.

  At 11:30 or so, George and Keith yawned and got up to leave. We said good-bye in the hall, but Nicky didn’t get up from my bed. I shut the door and turned. One of Nicky’s eyes was set slightly higher than the other, and both of them turned down at the sides. His brow hung heavy above his eyes and made his expressions look serious and maybe desperate. He cleared his throat and blinked.

  “I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.”

  “I didn’t, though.” My hand caressed the doorknob.

  “Then I guess thanks for not criticizing me like the other two.” The pleading look in his eyes made me think of Miquel. The doorknob became slick with my sweat. I fidgeted with it more anxiously, and it rattled. Then I thought about how a doorknob was shaped like the head of a penis and took my hand away.

  “They weren’t criticizing you.”

  “Does everybody here just hate me?” Nicky asked. His lower lip glistened in the light of the lamp on my nightstand. “You hate me, don’t you?”

  “Of course not.” It almost made me laugh to think how wrong he was. I wracked my brain trying to think of ways that people liked Nicky and came up short. He had a reputation for behaving the way he did that night: talking too much, too emotionally, and casting doubt into places where it wasn’t welcome. Although other clients-that’s what they called us-put it in the gentlest terms possible, many of us had difficulty with his questioning attitude and his nasal twang. People often asked Bill why he didn’t kick Nicky out of the program, like he always threatened he would. Knowing that others didn’t see the same things in Nicky that I did only increased my attraction to him.

  A little clear liquid escaped from his left eye, the one I’d always thought of as the sadder one. “Then why do y’all always treat me so mean?” He ripped a Kleenex from the festive box on the nightstand next to my ]esuses and wiped his eyes and nose with it. “Keith and George, I don’t care, but you’re one of the supervisors and, and, and, you’re my roomie, and you don’t hardly even look at me when I talk to you.” I took a breath and he pointed at me sharply, shouting, “Don’t try to deny it, neither!”

  “It’s because-” I began, and then changed my mind. “I think you know why it’s because. Listen, Keith and George are doing their best. You know they struggle with the same problems as you. You have other places you can bring this up, you didn’t have to make a scene during Bible study.”

  “I suck,” Nicky moped. “I suck big fat cock.”

  “No you don’t!”

  I didn’t like to hear him say words like that. Nicky’s questions had started my own beliefs shaking in sympathy. The image also stimulated me. Right then Satan whispered into my ear that all of Nicky’s behavior that night had just been a complicated way of seducing me. Get back, Demon! I yelled in my head. But once the Beast had put the idea out there, it caught fire and burned with foolishness. Anybody with one eyeball could see that this young man was in a great deal of pain. I had failed as a counselor if I couldn’t recognize that and treat him with the appropriate respect.

  “Let’s pray,” I said, extending my fingertips to him. He blew a trumpet blast from behind a Kleenex and slowly stood up. Letting the tissue fall gently into the trash can, he turned his palms up so that I could put mine on top of them, and we bowed our heads. I had felt something like the contact between my flesh and his before-when those trains collided.

  “Heavenly Father, we ask that you give us strength this evening that we might-” I moved my hands slightly, so that my fingertips rested on his wrists. Just beyond where the tendons branched out, shiny hairs scribbled down his forearms. “-do battle against-” Nicky sniffled and I noticed his breathing. It was unfair that something so basic to life had an erotic charge if you paid attention to it. “-the seeds of doubt that Satan has put in our minds, tempting us to live outside your will-” This was a standard prayer at Resurrection. Unfortunately I could now recite it while thinking of other things. I thought of Nicky’s firm, round rear end under my hand back when I’d slipped. I thought of the closed door. An animalistic impulse took hold of me. I let my hand travel up one of his forearms and caress the hair there.

  Nicky raised his head but I didn’t meet his gaze. As I finished the prayer I pulled him to me and buried my face in his neck. “Jesus,” I said. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. I love you, Nicky. I want you to finish the program and succeed. I really want that for you.” I held him close, like a parent would hold a child. My lips brushed against the nub at the front of his ear. I let my lips do that. Nicky opened his arms and wrapped them around as much of my waist as he could. We stood that way for a while, rocking almost without moving, like an old couple in the ballroom of a cruise ship.

  “You’re real cuddly,” he said, almost laughing at me. “Like a fat 01’ tedd y bear.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear about myself right then. But instead of asking him to be quiet, I tried to prove I wasn’t cuddly and keep him from saying anything more by pressing my mouth down on top of his.

  The kiss didn’t take Nicky by surprise. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t respond, either. I held my lips there, kissing, and he let me, without moving. I kissed his swollen lips like I’d just crawled across Death Valley and they were the only moisture left anywhere. But as soon as I knew he didn’t share my fantasy, the dream began to droop. Remembering his stories about Chicago, I supposed this was the way he acted while he turned a trick. Maybe he was having a fantasy about lying under a thatched umbrella on a tropical beach. Disgusted with myself, I took a step back, looked away, and apologized.

  But I had crossed that line again. When I faced Nicky, he hadn’t moved. Maybe he tilted his head back and parted his lips slightly, but he kept quiet. The silence made me uncomfortable because the Devil kept saying it meant I could kiss him again. In the program, thinking about kissing a man was as bad as kissing a man. But kissing a man twice wasn’t hardly any worse than kissing a man once. I stepped forward and pressed my lips against his again. They tasted as sweet and wet as the first bite of a summer peach.

  Nicky continued to stand still without responding as I worked my mouth on top of his. After I had slobbered all over his face, the guilt became too intense and I pulled away. “You don’t want me to do this, do you?” I asked. “Why are you letting me do this?”

  “I guess I’m just sick of people around here not being able to do what they want to do. Don’t it feel good to do what you want to do?”

  Blood rushed to my face. “For the here and now it feels good. But we can’t live for the here and now. We have to think about our immortal souls, Nicky. The cost of one selfish moment like I just had could be an eternity of hellfire.”

  “Yeah, people say that a lot. We talk about homo stuff all day and night. Even when we talk about Jesus, we talk about how Jesus don’t want us to be homos and how Jesus can help us stop thinking homo thoughts and doing homo things. How can George say that God thinks homosexuality don’t exist? That’s like saying God thinks dust don’t exist and then spending your whole life vacuuming the rug. No wonder it’s so hard to get over these urges. How do you get rid of an urge if you’re blabbing about it all day? Not being able to shut up about homosexuality is a homosexual act, too, ain’t it? But ain’t nobody asking forgiveness for that around here.”

  I folded my arms and bobbed my head thoughtfully. Bill always did that whenever somebody criticized the basics of the program. Then I sat down, knowing Nicky would have to sit
, too. He did. My passion for him temporarily retreated into goodwill. “It’s good that you’re getting all this out. Having these moments of questioning is a healthy way of getting back on track.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m gonna get back on track.”

  Even as a counselor, I rarely heard words like these. My surprise at hearing them was amplified by a panic at the idea that once he left, they’d never allow me to see him again. “So you’re too weak to do God’s will is what you’re saying. You’d rather go back to a life of sin, addiction, disease, and death.”

  “No, I ain’t weak. I didn’t kiss you. I guess I believe in God, but my heart’s not in the whole religion thing no more, you know? You gotta believe in too much other stuff. Like angels and devils and Hell and Heaven and miracles and burning bushes and the virgin birth and on and on. See, if it was just one of them things, maybe it would be easier, you know? But it’s all of that. It’s like magic tricks or Disney World or something.”

  I let out a weak laugh. Disney World was the only thing I believed in as much as God.

  “And it’s like, if you commit sins and do self-destructive things on Earth, you go to Hell, and your flesh burns eternally. If you follow everything that God says, you go to Heaven, and that’s what? Like, an eternal picnic. Fire, okay, picnic, okay. It’s the eternal I can’t handle. Ain’t nothing eternal. Seems to me God didn’t make nothing to be eternal. Not even the sun. And another thing, I’ll bet that you could get used to your flesh burning eternally and it would get boring. Maybe that’s the part that’s Hell, the boringness. Plus, if only pious Christian people go to Heaven, it just don’t sound like no fun to me. Heaven without good music and sex ain’t none of my Heaven.”

  “Heaven is being with God, Nicky. When we cast off the flesh, we are only spirit. Spirit is free of the base cravings of the flesh.”

  “See! That’s what I mean. Christians can’t stand earthly pleasures. We think that Heaven means freedom from enjoying yourself. I heard that when a Muslim volunteers to be a martyr, they tell him he’s going to get him a harem! A Christian martyr would get a deluxe edition of Scrabble and a Pat Boone record!”

  Nicky’s tone had escalated to blasphemy, so I thought it was time to end the conversation. “It sounds like you’ve thought this through pretty thoroughly, Nicky,” I said. “But I want to remind you that Jesus loves you and will always love you, no matter how far you stray from His truth, and that I will pray for you, and everybody here will pray for you. I don’t want your soul to die, because there’s a chance for you. You already know that Jesus can bring eternal life, and once you know that, you’re halfway to salvation. So maybe you’ll go back to the decadent lifestyle of the homosexual prostitute and the drug addict, because you just haven’t fallen far enough to understand why we all need the helping hand of the Lord. At our greatest times of doubt, Christ is more with us than ever. Nicky, I feel an obligation to make sure that you make it through to the promised land of faith and freedom from all the suffering that homosexuality has brought you. I feel a special bond of brotherhood with you.”

  “Is that why you kissed me?” An urgent knock came at the door. I didn’t go get it.

  “Shush. I apologized for what I did. I hope you’ll find mercy in your heart for me. Now, if there’s any way I can help-special counseling sessions, extra Bible study-I’ll do everything in my power.” I was almost crying, because I didn’t want him to leave the program, or me.

  “Look how late it is,” he announced, staring at my clock radio. It said 12:39. Without responding to my offer of help, Nicky gathered himself and went to the door. “I’m just gonna go take a walk down the hall and clear my head.” He shook my hand tenderly. “You tried, Gary. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people.” The knocking got louder, so I joined Nicky by the doorjamb. Keith and George stood there with lines of concern crisscrossing their faces.

  “Did George leave his Bible in here? He can’t find it,” Keith said.

  Nicky stepped around them without speaking and shuffled down the hallway. George, Keith, and I ended up on our hands and knees looking for the Bible underneath the beds. It wasn’t anywhere.

  FIFTEEN

  About a week after the night we lost George’s Bible, I didn’t see Nicky for a whole day. Not only didn’t I have to wake him up like usual, but he had even stripped his bed. Or somebody had. Bill counted heads at breakfast but he acted like he didn’t notice that Nicky wasn’t present. Everybody must have known. But nobody else brought it up, either. Leaving our world meant spiritual death, and you didn’t want to hear the details, because morale was fragile and next time it could be you. Everybody must have known. All day an uneasy hunch wandered down a path in my head, but since the bad suspicions didn’t have any facts to go with them, I made up excuses. Surely I’d see him that night in our room. I didn’t see him for another week and a half, but nobody knew anything. I didn’t know if he’d run away or gotten kicked out. Bill and Gay wouldn’t discuss it. At night I ran my hands down the blue and white stripes on his naked mattress, praying that he was safe somewhere and not dead.

  Then one night at supper I was sitting with Keith and Jake, poking the meatloaf with our plastic forks and chatting. Keith zipped open his package of chocolate pudding and stuck a spoon in, and I started my second one.

  “Did you hear about Nicky?” Keith asked, without looking up from scraping the container. An expression danced across his face that I could’ve sworn was satisfaction.

  “No,” Jake said. “What’d he do?” Jake loved gossip because it was forbidden at Resurrection but not specifically gay.

  “Nicky stole Bill’s wallet and went AWOL.”

  I forgot to breathe. I knew I would rush upstairs to check the room as soon as supper got done. Later I found that somebody had cleared out all of Nicky’s things while I was at work. I searched the room for something of his. I found some paper clips and pennies, but those wouldn’t do as mementos. Later I picked up some hairs from around the baseboards and put them in an envelope.

  “Is that true?”

  Jake stuck his chin out and said “Yeah,” because anybody who broke the rules secretly impressed him. Jake had a tattoo of a dagger on one side of his neck that the chain of command made him keep covered up with a Band-Aid, but he’d show it to anybody who asked, and plenty who didn’t, whenever he got the chance. “Holy holy. Where do you think he went?”

  “Back to Chicago to turn tricks for smack, I bet,” Keith said, dropping his pudding container onto his plate, where it made a woodblock sound.

  “That’s not such a brotherly thought,” Jake said.

  “We should go get him,” I said.

  “In Chicago?”

  “He’s probably not there yet.”

  “Right, Bill probably doesn’t carry a mess of greenbacks,” Keith reasoned. “He had to have gone downtown. Should we really go get him? Can we do that?”

  “You don’t sound like you really want to,” I told Keith. His uncaring response shocked me. One of our brothers was missing, maybe lost. I felt like we had no choice but to risk it, but I didn’t want to appear different from the group, so I kept that part of my opinion to myself. “I talked to him last week. He knows that some of us are not extending our fellowship to him, and that’s part of why he acts out.” I thought about what Keith had said for a moment and became slightly annoyed. “For people who are all struggling with the same problem, you’d think we could show some compassion. “

  “But he’s a troublemaker and a thief.”

  “We all know the way SSAs can affect other parts of your life and the behavior patterns. We need to let Nicky know that he’s forgiven as long as he repents.”

  “Maybe it’s just about him needing to hit rock bottom,” Jake drawled sadly, sticking his finger into his dessert cup, wiping the sweet stuff up and then sucking it in a way that would have gotten him disciplined if Bill had been watching.

  “He’s one of the fallen,” Keith added. “Some
people have the discipline to deal with this problem and, obviously, others don’t. He’s probably better off shooting up with his tricks.”

  “Guys!” I shouted. “You know what can happen!”

  “The world can probably go on without another sad, screwed-up homosexual,” Keith said, bitterness dripping off his tongue. Jake stretched his arms up and yawned a long red yawn-like the Devil’s cave, I thought.

  Now Keith’s and Jake’s lack of caring got me seriously angry. I wondered if they were saying what they said just to get my goat. If so, they had succeeded. “I’m going to go look for him. If you guys come with me then we can stay in phase. If not, I’ll just find somebody else to go with me.”

  “Are you nuts, Gary? Bill won’t authorize that trip.”

  “I don’t care. Nicky needs us.”

  “You’ll be violating chain of command,” Jake warned.

  Keith leaned forward and guffawed, slapping his fingers on the dining table. His round eyes bulged out even further and his skinny arms bent outward. The combination of looks and movements made him seem to me like an African American frog. “When did you start caring about chain of command, Jake?”

  Silently, the three of us dared each other to overcome our fear of going off campus unauthorized. I cast a nervous look at Jake, hoping I had his support. Keith glanced back and forth between the two of us, because he probably thought I might not have the courage to go ahead. I shot an angry squint back, downright insulted that they couldn’t see the necessity of rescuing Nicky, and also to make sure neither of them had figured out that I wanted to find him partially because I was in love.

  “It’s Friday,” Jake reminded us. Group Share started right after supper and usually lasted a little over an hour. On Fridays we had quiet time after Group Share, but we weren’t really supposed to go off campus. We could go to approved movies or other events in phase, but technically we needed to let chain of command know.

  “I’m not sure,” Keith grumbled. “It’s dangerous, and even if we succeed, we’ll only get Nicky back.”