The Crucifixion and Resurrection of Malachi the Queer

by Damian Jay Clay

I thank him. It can’t be refused.

  The last two weeks at the unit are slow. A few hours after we get back from the memorial, Poppy cuts into a vein in her leg. She’s sewn up then taken back into the acute ward. Then I’m put on fifteen minute watch in case I do anything stupid. So is Alim.

  But it’s not just us, it’s the whole place – particularly the staff. They’re all trying to project business as usual but it’s not fooling me. At breakfast it’s the worst; I sit by Alim and try and stop myself thinking of Porter and his six slices of toast and then I do and I laugh and I cry.

  How do I deal with it? I don’t know. I look forward to the now nightly visits I’m getting from all my friends and making plans for the future. During the day it’s all down time. I’m waiting to leave now. I don’t need this place any more.

  My therapy finishes. The last two sessions we focus on relaxation and breathing exercises. The only therapy from then on is with my family. As frustrating as that is without Porter on my side, I don’t get angry, even though they never want to compromise. Mary is with us for the last few sessions and she tries so hard to sort things out. I honestly believe she thinks she can.

  In the end everyone but my parents agree that me going home would not be for the best. So a place in a care home is arranged for me. My parents challenge that at once. Then, when Sam and Catherine instruct Thom to arrange for me to live with them, my parents challenge that as well.

  Then Mary tells me I have to go to court. It is not what I expected.

  I thought it would be the like films I’d seen, with a judge, jury, all the theatre and colour of a trial. In fact, it’s held in a room which looks more like an office than anything else but with space for several chairs in front of the judge's fancy desk.

  Thom is there with Sam and Catherine. My mum and dad bring a solicitor but after about twenty minutes of them talking to the judge neither he or Thom get to speak.

  My entire team get to speak about me. They tell the judge what has happened and how I have progressed. Mary tells them about the obvious problems with them not being able to deal with my atheism or sexuality. Then she sums everything up and gives her conclusions about what the team think best for me, which is living in the home or with Sam and Catherine.

  The judge asks her which option she would choose if it were up to her.

  Mary answers, “I’ve spoken at length to Sam and Catherine. I feel they would offer him a stable home with unlimited support. There’s no doubt in my mind he’d be better off in a family structure than in a care home. Speaking candidly if I may, who wouldn’t?”

  Then Sam gets to speak and I find out for the first time that he and Catherine had done fostering training so they were able to look after Noah. I love them for that – how seriously they’ve taken everything. I think this looks fantastic to the judge, even better than the fact that she clearly knows who Sam is. She asks him about how we met and he tells her about winning the prize he offered and how I was so perceptibly smart in the email I sent him that he thought I was twice my age.

  “I knew that there was something troubling him deeply – he said as much to me but I could see that only scratched the surface. I felt at that moment, when we said goodbye at the station, that he was walking back into a life he was just about managing to cope with. So I gave him my phone number in case he ever needed help. Would I have done that for anybody? No, of course not. In Malachi I saw a like mind and greatly gifted young man. So of course I offered my help. I wasn’t expecting the situation that followed when he needed it.

  “Only Catherine and I can describe the horror that walked into our house on that day. Those three boys had been brutalised and Malachi was a bloody mess, torn to pieces and telling us he wanted to die. We gave those boys every bit of care and help we could. With help from my friends and colleagues I set up a trust to help the other boys who were at that camp and I know it’s helped. But with Jacob, Noah and Malachi I have helped directly and will always continue to do so.

  “No, his parents weren’t to blame but they were responsible for putting him in that situation. As Mary said, they won’t change the attitudes which lead them to place him in the hands of those sexually repressed fanatics and look at the damage that has been done.” He seems so angry.

  The judge gives him a second. “How do you feel about Malachi?”

  “I love him and more than that I respect him. Catherine will tell you herself, she feels no different. We will do everything we can for Malachi to help him regain everything he’s lost, including the years of childhood which have been stripped away from him.”

  Catherine echoes everything Sam said as well as saying that at least if I was with them, they would make sure I maintain contact with my parents.

  Then it’s my dad’s turn. What he says shocks me. “I understand why this decision has to be made and I agree that it’s best for Malachi if he does move away from the house until he feels able to come back.”

  But then my surprise is shelved at what he says next. “I can’t agree that Malachi moving in with a family whose cultural views are so vastly different my own would be in anyone’s best interest. Though Malachi has given up on the church, the church hasn’t given up on him and I’d rather wait until a suitable Christian family can be found to foster him.”

  The judge doesn’t look impressed. “Have you accepted your son’s sexuality?”

  “I don’t believe Malachi is gay. I’m in a better place than anyone to speak on this as only my wife has known Malachi as long as I. When he finds his faith again he’ll realise that this was all a phase.”

  The judge then asks my mum if she has anything to add, she cries and says, “I just want Malachi to come home.”

  I don’t think her tears cut any cloth with the Judge.

  Then the judge turns to me. “Would you mind if I spoke to you alone?”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  She asks everyone to leave and comes and sits next to me in the seats out front. It’s funny, from a distance she looked fierce, her face opaque with foundation and light purple lipstick, but up close you can see the cracks and age lines on her skin, almost see the person.

  “I read your file,” she says, “everything that was done to you and what you did to get out. I read about your recent loss and I am so very sorry.”

  “Thanks. I’m doing much better now. A lot of that was thanks to Porter.”

  “Can you tell me what you would like to do, if the choice was yours?”

  “I’d live with Sam and Catherine. I’d carry on doing exams and preparing to go to university, though I might wait for that. I might wait a few years.”

  “Why is that?” She seems interested.

  “I want some time for me. Sam and Catherine suggested it and I think they’re right. I think I need it. I think I need to figure out a lot of things, including the stuff with my family. I don’t want to run away any more. Most of all I want to enjoy life again. I don’t want to have any regrets. Besides, Sam told me that even though I’m intellectually more than ready to go, I probably wouldn’t fully appreciate it until I was eighteen. Before all this happened I thought that getting to university meant everything but I think it was because it was the only thought keeping me going. I still want to go but I realise now that I need time for me.”

  “Yes, I think Sam’s right. I didn’t go until I was twenty eight and I loved every minute. Tell me Malachi, have you lost your faith?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. Being ill changed everything for me – it wiped everything that I knew clean away and so I think that to a large part I’ve had to remake myself. I learned about Christianity again after I lost my memory but I don’t think it took.

  “It doesn’t feel like I’ve chosen any of it, being gay, being smart, being an atheist, all of it seems as beyond my control as what happened to me at the camp.”

  “Does that scare you?”

  “No, not any more. You see that’s the thing that I learned. That’s the thing that Port
er made me see. Who I am and what’s happened to me is only a small part of my life. My friends and my family, my ambitions and the things I’ll do in my life and all the joy and sadness I know that will come with it. It’s too good to miss by trying to deny a part of who you are or because you’re stuck thinking of horrific things that have happened to you – letting them be in control. It’s learning to be able to cope with it.”

  She nods. “And can you? Can you cope with it all?”

  “No, not all the time but I’m learning.”

  “What part of it is hardest to cope with?”

  “The anger. I don’t know what to do with the anger. What happened to me, to the other boys at the camp, what happened to Alim and Porter. What do you do with the anger?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, “even old judges like me don’t always have an answer. You should see some of the things I see by working here, day after day. I drink, though I wouldn't recommend that for you. Maybe try not to deny it. Try and channel it in to something good.”

  I smile at her.

  “I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Malachi. Let’s get everybody back in.”

  She takes her seat again and calls through to someone. Soon everyone is back in place. There’s no waiting for her to make a decision or anything like that. She delivers her verdict at once.

  “This case has not been a straightforward one for me to judge. There are two matters which we have to address: should Malachi return home to his family, and, if not, should he be allowed to live with the Doctors Hawnett or should he be placed in a care home until an acceptable Christian home be found for him? There’s no doubt that the primary caretakers of any fourteen year old should be his parents. The people who bore him and raised him are in a better position to know what is right for him than anyone else. Malachi’s parents are not bad people and they have the right to hold their religious beliefs and bring their son up in that faith. It is obvious that in this case it is one of their primary concerns.

  “I give them credit for conceding that their family home may not be the right place for him at the moment and with that concession the first part of the problem at least is decided. For the present, Malachi will become a ward of the court and continued assessment for his status will be placed in the hands of social services.

  “Now to the second issue. It is only fair that the cultural values of his family are respected in terms of finding long term care for Malachi. However, here I find the greatest problem I face, because even though I believe it was an unknowing error, it was those values which placed Malachi in harms way.

  “I have spoken to Malachi and I have concluded that of all of us, Doctor Hawnett said it best – Malachi’s childhood has been stripped away from him. He is intelligent, there is no doubt about that but, more importantly, with the torture he has been put through and the recovery he has made, he has grown beyond any reasonable, mental definition of being a child. So I will respect his choice to live with the Doctors Hawnett with the supervision of social services. As well as this, he must have family contact for a minimum of four hours a week.”

  Outside the courtroom my mum is in tears. I run over to her and wrap her in my arms. She seems so much smaller than I have ever seen her before. My dad stands by, for a second he places a hand on my shoulder and then takes it away again.

  “Mum. I’ll see you this weekend.”

  She won’t let me go and then I start crying.

  My dad takes her hand and pulls her away. He gives me a nod and then leads her off.

  Sam puts a hand on my shoulder as I watch them walk away.

  I’ve done it. I’m free but it doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

  Mary drives me back to the unit with Sam and Catherine following behind. When we get back there’s one last meeting with Sam, Catherine, Doctor Black and Mary. We talk about everything that’s happened and the move in with Catherine and Sam. I’m given a long list of phone numbers in case I need any help and a dozen pamphlets with information about support groups and out patient services. Sam asks Doctor Black to recommend a private psychotherapist who would be suitable for me and Doctor Black gives him some names.

  Then Doctor Black congratulates me and shakes me hand. “You’re a free man. Now get out of here.”

  We go back to my room where my stuff is already packed. Sam and Catherine take it and tell me they’ll see me in the car. I look one last time at the lipstick on my door and then go into the common room where Poppy and Alim are waiting for me, right where I met them the first time.

  Alim hands me a present. “This is from both of us.”

  I unwrap it. It’s Rent on DVD. I kiss them both. “I wish I’d thought about getting you both something.”

  “You’re the one getting out,” says Alim. “Though I don’t think I’ll be here for much longer. We’re starting to talk about finding a place for me to live.”

  “Make sure it’s close to Earls Court.” I hold their hands. “I’ll miss both you but I’m going to come and visit so don’t worry.”

  I stand up and we have a group hug then I leave.

  I walk towards the main doors. As I pass the dining room the door is open and it’s empty. I dart in there and take one of the toast racks which are now on the side and I stuff it up my jacket. In my mind I can hear Porter laughing and as sad as I am, I can’t help but smile.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “Even before the second world war broke out, gays living in Hitler’s Germany found themselves being shipped to concentration camps. A life of hell and eventual death awaited them. The records from the time show that around 50,000 people were convicted of being gay and some studies have said that around half a million homosexuals perished in the Holocaust. Half a million!

  “In the concentration camps they had to wear a pink triangle for ease of identification. They were considered to be the lowest of the low – abused, physically, mentally and sexually by the kapos and the members of the SS who were given responsibility over them. The only situation that could have been worse was to have both a pink triangle and a yellow star.

  “The SS enjoyed torturing the homosexual prisoners. They would be forced to immerse their private parts into icy cold then boiling water; take beatings directly on their genitals and be bent over while the guards raped them with batons and broomsticks – few survived.

  "In some of the camps they were prioritised as subjects for medical experiments. Laws were passed which allowed for the castration of gay men.

  “There were those who, in order to survive, allowed themselves to be used for sex by the overseers. They were called doll boys.

  “In The Nuremberg War Crimes Trials little mention was given to the plight of the homosexuals because homosexuality was still taboo and in many countries most people still hated gays.

  “In 1952 in the UK, a brilliant mathematician named Alan Turing, who led a team which broke the Engima code – a project which saved countless lives and did much to win the war – was prosecuted for homosexual acts and accepted the punishment of chemical castration over a prison sentence. Two years later he died from cyanide poisoning.

  “He was given a posthumous pardon in 2013 and it makes me wonder – what would we think if Germany gave pardons to the millions killed in the gas chambers?

  “Then there is the story of the fifteen year old South African boy who was rushed into hospital with a broken arm and brain damage. Severely malnourished and dehydrated, his broken body battered, covered with bruises and cigarette burns – the results of his stay at gay conversion camp where it was believed he was starved and forced to eat his own faeces.

  “He was put on life support and only lasted two weeks.

  “There is the boy from the USA who was tied to a desk and made to look at gay pornography with a block of ice burning down on his hands. Then they stuck needles into his fingers through which they would electrocute him.

  “I keep a file now with all of these stories. I am meticulous about it – and there are hundre
ds of them.

  “Then there are the boys who kill themselves in the night because they can no longer take the bullying and abuse from their Christian schoolmates.

  “None of this makes me cry any more. It only makes me angry and I don’t even know why I keep this file. I think about trying to contact the other survivors and the families of those who didn’t survive but I can never bring myself to send them an email or a letter. I don’t know what I will awaken.

  “And I haven’t even mentioned the file which Alim keeps.

  “Noah doesn’t like it and won’t even be in the same room as me when I am working on it. He’s dealing with what happened to us still, we both are, but he has got past his anger. I have not and I don’t want to.”

  Annabelle, my therapist, gives nothing away in her face. “And what does this anger do for you?”

  “I don’t know – it keeps telling me I should do something because the world won’t.”

  “What should you do?”

  “I don’t know. Alim knows – he’s going to make it his life’s work to help gay people living in oppressive theocracies. I don’t know what I can do yet.”

  She looks at her watch. “Times up. Good work today. Merry Christmas and I’ll see you after the holidays.”

  I leave her office and get on the underground. Half an hour later I’m back in Sudbury. Daniel is at the station and walks beside me as I head for the church. It happens every time I visit home.

  My mum and dad are in the office when I get in. We hug at once and I hand them the bag with their presents in. “There’s one in their for Isla too. Is she back?”

  “Tomorrow,” says my mum.

  “Hold on...” My dad reaches under his desk and pulls out a bag for me. “There’s presents in there for Noah, Sam and Catherine as well. Now none of you are to open them before Christmas Day.”

  “I’ll tell them. We won’t.” I’m so surprised at this. It seems unbelievable.

  “I’m so sorry,” says my mum, “but you chose a bad time to visit. We’ve got a service and a buffet tea in the hall afterwards. You’re welcome to join us.”