Hail Santa!

Read the first 3 chapters of Hail Santa here!

[cococowboah]

Amazon.com: Hail Santa eBook : Cohen, Sullivan: Kindle Store

Hezekiah Whitman is your less-than-model JW boy, but he does his best. He goes in service several times a week, answers at the meetings, and does his best to abide by the standards set before him, all with his best friend and spiritual brother Alan Rodriguez by his side. But a new job and his first "worldly" friend set in motion a spiral of uncertainty and realizations about himself that he never contemplated prior.

[cococowboah]

For anyone who may be curious:

Some years ago I wrote a Jade and Neeta* fanfiction that turned into a novella. I changed the names, Jade to Amber, and Neeta to Nichole, just to cover my ass in case Watchtower came knocking with a cease and desist, and published it.

Nothing really happened to it for a while. I had it up for free on a few eBook sites and forgot about it.

Earlier this year I learned Amazon had been selling and promoting it, without giving me a dime in royalties since I had it as a free eBook. Every single sale of that book went right to Amazon.

I believe it's now off Amazon for good, as I've requested it removed from all eBook platforms to prevent this from happening again. The book is now available, in full and for free, on my patreon. Anyone can read it regardless of their status as a JW, I know many younger ones without independent bank accounts were concerned with PIMI** parents questioning the purchase of Jehovah's Forbidden Love Story, so I hope anyone who had concerns about that when finding the book on Amazon can now read it here.

Love ya guys ❤️ and happy holidays

Forever and for Always | Collection from Sullivan Cohen | 11 posts | Patreon

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*characters from a Jehovah's Witness series on recruiting cult members

**PIMI, meaning Physically In, Mentally In (currently practicing and believes in the religion.) Variations are PIMO, Physically In, Mentally Out (practicing the religion for the sake of maintaining familial relationships or other reasons, but doesn't believe in the religion anymore.) POMI Physically Out, Mentally In ( not practicing either by choice or by force through disfellowshipping, but still believes in the religion.) And POMO, Physically Out, Mentally Out (no longer practicing, has successfully left the cult behind.)

[hailsantabook]

Chapter 3: Love

Chapter 3

Love

I loved the rain.

I loved the cleansing effect it had on the world around me, the calmness it brought to my mind when I watched it fall through the window. Coupled with a soft warm blanket and a hot cup of tea, rain-watching became a spiritual experience for me, something special between me and God alone, a moment of connection in the peaceful ecstasy of the falling droplets of life.

I hated thunderstorms.

The shattering tear of lightning through the sky, the rumbling ground, the dark clouds that shrouded the world in a short burst of chaotic fury. The roaring winds, the near demonic whistling through the trees, the shriek of thunder and the crackling flashes through the sky.

Ten years ago my father came up behind me during a thunderstorm, and put a heavy hand on my little shoulder. “Imagine it being ten thousand times worse than this.” He said, a smile on his face as he gazed at the downpour. “That’s what Armageddon will be like. This is only a mere fraction of what Jehovah will do.”

“Is Jehovah making the rain scary now?” I asked in the typical childish mindset.

“Yes, Jehovah does all of this, both directly and not.”

My little heart sank, because this was terrifying, and I thought I was supposed to find comfort with Jehovah.

“Daddy, why does Jehovah do scary things?”

“To remind us of his power, so that we fear him.”

“Fear him?”

“Yes.”

“Why does he want us to be afraid?”

My father chuckled. “When Daddy tells you to do something nicely, you don’t always do it, do you?” I shook my little head. “But when Daddy gets his belt, you listen, right?”

I nodded.

“It’s like that, son. This is just Jehovah’s belt, making sure the world knows his sovereignty and never forgets it, even if we claim to.”

He patted me on the shoulder and walked away. 

I’ve been terrified of thunderstorms ever since.

🎅

I was staring at my new work schedule. My first work schedule. Trisha had sent it to me through text.

I told her to give me as much time as she could, that I was ready and willing to work hard.

I had Mom look at the schedule so she’d know when to drop me off at the mall each day. She lowered her eyebrows.

“A lot of these days overlap into your service days, Kai.”

I nodded. “I can do both, I end service around 12, so I can get home, get dressed, and be at work by 1.”

“And then work until 8PM? I don’t want you burning yourself out with your first job.”

“Come on, I can do this Mom!”

“I have no doubt that you can, I’m saying after a couple days of this you won’t want to.”

Dad joined the conversation not long after, walking into the kitchen in his typical buttoned-up attire.

“How’d the job hunt go, Kai?”

“Really good. I start working at the arcade tomorrow.”

“Great!”

“I’m trying to help him balance his work schedule with his service schedule.”

“Always important, and how’s that going?”

She showed him the phone. “With service included he’s gonna be working from 8am to 8pm four days a week. That’s not even including meetings or studies. Can you please explain why that’s a bad idea for someone his age?”

“Well, Kai, you can’t slave for two masters.”

“I’m young and spry though, right?”

Mom patted my head condescendingly. “Yes but you’re not superman. You’re gonna have to either cut back on work hours or cut back on service hours.”

“Well now, he won’t be cutting back on any service hours.”

“Oh come on Tim, he’s more than excelling in service.”

“And it should stay that way, shouldn’t it, Margaret?”

“What about a compromise?” I piped up, “I could do letter writing to make up for any time lost.”

“Well, letter writing is not a replacement, Kai. Don’t you want to go to Bethel someday?”

“You do letter writing too, Dad. I saw a lady with one of your letters out in service the other day.”

“Oh really now?” Dad was intrigued, as far as I knew he never got to interact with anyone he sent letters to before. “What’d she say about it?”

I thought back to that day. “She didn’t say anything about it, just said she got a letter in a yellow envelope after her husband died.”

“Ah, yes, I think I remember her.”

“Well, why can’t I just do letter writing to make up for any service time I miss out on if you can?”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged in Mom’s direction.

“Eh, fine. I don’t see why not.”

I was happier than I thought I could be with that. I took my phone back from Mom and informed Trisha that the schedule would be perfect for me.

You asked for a shit ton of hours, glad I could provide.

That night, Dad taught me how to get addresses to send letters to. First, we looked through the obituaries, and any addresses provided to send flowers or mail to, we jotted them down next to the names of the surviving family members.

I wrote them by hand on a sweet flowery letterhead, folded them up and added a brochure before sticking it inside an envelope and slapping it into a pile.

Dad patted me on the back once he was sure I had gotten the hang of it, and he left the room, giving me the freedom to either continue with letter writing or do something else for the night. I decided I’d do just one more, for a Mrs. Henrietta Finkle-Gates who had passed just yesterday.

Survived by her wife, Abigail Finkle-Gates.

I paused.

We share the good news to everyone, right?

But, could I really promise Abigail that she’d see her wife again in paradise if God never approved of their marriage?

I was biting my nails more than I realized.

I went to Dad, showed him the obituary, and asked him what I should do.

“Just move on to the next one, son.” He said, leaving it at that.

But it felt wrong to just decide that this woman didn’t deserve to know God just because she had taken the wrong path in life.

So I asked Mom.

“It’s not your place to judge her heart, Kai. If you feel compelled to write to her, do it.”

So, I did.

I wrote to her about Paradise, about the resurrection hope, about everlasting life in perfect health.

And I didn’t mention Jehovah’s stance on homosexuality once.

🎅

Trisha had her hand on her hip while she watched me wiping snot off the joystick of an arcade machine. I had gloves on, but it was still nauseating me, so I turned around to look at her and caught a cheeky smile on her face. 

"So when's your boyfriend coming around again?" 

My heart jumped at that. "Boyfriend?" 

"The tall guy you're always leaning on and hugging."

"Oh, that's Alan, he's my best friend.” I turned back to the machine and decided it was clean before clarifying, “but we're not dating."

"Ohhh. That's right, JWs don't do the whole same love thing."

"It's very much looked down upon, yeah."

"Don’t you like him that way though?"

"Um, I don't swing that way."

"It's just, guys don't typically get physical with each other unless they're, yanno, dating."

"We're just really affectionate guys."

"Would you be offended if I called bullshit on that?"

"I'm not offended, I just don't see why you think there's something between us."

She was closer now, looking at me head on. "You're not the kind of guy to look people in the eye when they're speaking to you. Nothing wrong with that, but, when he speaks, you look at him, you look him straight in the eyes."

I shrugged, noting that my eyes were anywhere but on hers. "I feel comfortable with him."

"You're telling me you've never once had a romantic thought about him?"

"You kissed?!"

"We were kids though, practicing for girls. It lasted like a second."

"And how many girls have you kissed since then?"

“Well, none, but-”

“So your only kiss ever was with him?”

"Look, I admit Alan and I are pretty close, maybe unusually close. But there's nothing romantic about our relationship."

"What do you feel when you touch him?"

"Idunno, warmth, comfort. Like, home, if home were a person."

"You blind? That's love, kid."

"Well I never think about him naked or being intimate or anything."

"That doesn’t matter. What do you think about then?"

"I think about the future, maybe getting a house together, yanno, a bachelor house. We could both be pioneers and we'd get to spend every day together."

"Is your gaydar this broken?"

"I'm not in love with Alan!"

"But you do love Alan."

"As a brother, yeah."

"You don't see it?"

"See what?"

"You love him."

"As a brother."

"Kid, listen. I was raised Catholic, alright? I know the mental hoops kids in denial will go through to convince themselves that they're not queer. But it catches up to you one day whether you run from it or not, and being authentic is the only way to make sure you're not caught off guard when it does."

"Look, even if there was something between us, we’d never be able to be together anyways.”

“All I’m saying is to look inside your heart and decide for yourself what this is before you walk away from it for the sake of your religion. I’ve seen too many people deny who they love for the sake of the satisfaction of those around them.”

I took a moment to think about what she had said. I concluded pretty quickly that she was crazy; of course I didn’t love Alan romantically.

Didn’t I?

Getting called out on it shined a light on the state of my heart in a way I had never contemplated before.

I adored Alan, sure. I loved being around him and I was sure he felt the same. I felt giddy when I saw him, and sure, maybe I touched him a bit too much.

But I couldn’t help it. He felt like home to me. He felt like the warmth radiating from a fireplace in the dead of winter. He smelled like fresh brewed coffee on a cold morning and hot chocolate in the blizzard of the evening. He looked like the future, he looked like paradise, he looked like the missing half of my soul.

I could feel my heart gently dropping at the conclusion. Was that the only reason I wasn’t allowing myself to admit to this? Had I already sinned within my heart just for contemplating the matter?

And if this was love, what was I going to do about it anyways?

I pictured, for the sake of experimentation, his lips on mine, like they had been all those years ago for a mere second or less.

His lips on mine, his lips caressing my own, kissing me softly, inhaling me while I breathe him out.

That was all it took.

I opened my eyes, my heart racing.

I looked into my own eyes in the reflection of a game’s black screen.

Maybe, I did like Alan.

🎅

Nothing was the same after that.

I was too nervous to even text him after work, feeling like he would somehow be able to tell from my messages alone that I was starting to think of us differently.

My phone’s home screen being of us didn’t help my self accusations. How could you have been this stupid? This entire time you’ve been falling for him. Probably been tempting him too with how oblivious you are.

And if I was in love with him, what did that say about me? I never thought of myself as gay, I’ve always found girls cute, I think. I didn’t really think about girls, or guys, or romance in general. So, what was I? Bisexual? Was there another label for me? Should I even be contemplating a label at all? Was God watching me and shaking his head while I ran circles around my own mind?

Dad would kill me, he’d murder me if he found out his only son had the hots for his best friend. Mom would cry herself into a bottle of wine. My sister would never look at me the same again, the entire congregation would look at me differently if they found out.

Just as I was texting Mom to inform her that I was ready to get picked up from work, Alan messaged me.

Guess who just got Blue Life Destruction II!

I gulped. Alan would be so disappointed with the way I had started thinking about him. 

Don’t let it in, Kai. I let it in, and it’s been eating me alive ever since. 

If only I had listened to him, I thought. But no, I just had to go and make things difficult for myself.

I struggled to even string enough thoughts together to respond to his message.

It’s me, in case you were actually wondering :)

 I wasn’t, but goddamn, he was adorable.

Sweet, wanna bring it over tomorrow?

Tomorrow? What time?

I’m off work tomorrow, so, after service? ;)

Winky face? Come on Kai!

Alright ;)

Shoot, now he was using it too!

I shook my head at the rising heat in my cheeks. I did it, I let it in, just like Alan told me not to. And now I was falling head first into something I couldn’t control anymore.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him as I walked through the mall. Every thought of him made my heart skip a beat, everywhere I looked I remembered us walking through this place, sometimes even holding hands. People probably mistook us for a couple on multiple occasions and I had been none the wiser.

This was my fault, I didn’t struggle with same-sex attraction, Alan did. I just got careless, and now we’re in this mess.

But, was it really so wrong to just be in love with him?

Sure, it might hurt if he went on with someone new, especially if he ended up leaving the truth and dating a man, I’d feel completely betrayed. But in the meantime, would it be wrong just to admit my feelings for him?

It’s Jehovah’s command to never lie, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve been told. Men in the bible had been killed for lying, and I’d certainly be lying if I said I didn’t at least like Alan in a sort of romantic sense.

So, I had to admit it then. I had to admit I had feelings for him, at least to myself.

🎅

I was in the car with Mom, probably looking like a sad broken dog since she kept turning in my direction, each time nearly saying something but each time turning back to the wheel and ignoring the temptation to do so.

Within several minutes, she broke the ice. “What’s getting your goat, kiddo? This ain’t like you.”

I shrugged. “Just, hard day is all.”

“Well, if you wanna talk about it I’m here.”

I sighed. My mom was the one person in my life to always be on my side, and I was blessed to have her. If I could be open and honest about anything with anyone, it would be her.

“Homosexuality is condemned in the bible, right Mom?”

“It is. I’m guessing you heard about the incident with Alan?”

I perked up my ears and turned to her. “Incident?”

“He didn’t tell you?” She looked surprised.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mom raised her eyebrows and took a quick breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you then, but, Alan’s mother came over today and asked me for some advice. She had found some… questionable materials in his bedroom. Nothing pornographic, some magazines and the like, featuring, well, men.”

“Is he gonna get punished for it?”

“Probably not. He just needs some counseling.”

“Do you think Alan is gay?” I didn’t know if my mom knew, but I know she didn’t know I knew.

“No, he’s a curious young man, everyone has one moment or another where they wonder what it’s like to indulge a fantasy. We’re human.”

“Mom, what if I was gay?”

She looked a bit surprised, but ultimately kept her cool. “Well, do you think you’re gay?”

“Uh, a little, I guess.”

“A little as in, you think you might be bisexual?”

“Maybe?”

“Well, Kai, no matter what your feelings are, remember that it’s the act that Jehovah condemns, not feelings, not dreams, not even thoughts.”

“But I shouldn’t even think about it, should I?”

“You can’t always control your thoughts, kiddo. Direct yourself away from unclean thoughts but, you don’t have to constantly police your own mind.”

“What if I did, you know, act on it? What would happen to me?”

Her tone suddenly became decently stern, and she turned to look at me, having stopped at a light. “Kai, if you ever act on anything like that, you come talk to me first, alright? Don’t tell your dad first. He doesn’t have… a filter with stuff like that.”

“You saying there's stuff dad does have a filter with?”

“He’s a difficult man, but a good provider. None of us go without because of him. Everyone serves a purpose, Kai.”

Some part of me felt like “he serves a purpose” wasn’t a good look for Dad as a husband, but she didn’t need to tell me twice to keep this newfound desire of mine a secret from him.

🎅

Alan had been whisked away by virtual cowboys, traversing the wilderness of the old west on a massive black and white stallion he just bought since he couldn’t stand to steal one.

His fingers found home on the controller once more. Though the game allowed for mass amounts of violence and destruction, Alan played as a good boy, helping people instead of hurting them and playing more of a vigilante hero than a murderous psychopath.

I’d play the murderous psychopath if he’d let me play, which is exactly why he wasn’t letting me.

Regardless, I respected his privacy, unlike his mom had.

Unlike my mom had, to be fair.

“How was work today by the way?” Alan piped up as he picked virtual flowers in a virtual field.

“Oh, it was fine. My boss slash coworker Trisha had to help a kid climb out of the basketball game cabinet.”

“How’d he get in there at all?”

“Climbed in when nobody was looking I guess. Didn’t get hurt thankfully.”

“Gotta love how unintentionally suicidal kids are.”

“The guy I replaced came in today asking for severance pay, Trisha just kinda laughed him out.”

“The guy who disappeared?”

“Yeah, Trisha was pretty sure he was dead but I guess he just went off on a bender and didn’t even realize how much time passed. Left without any issues though so that ended up being uneventful. What about you, how was your day?”

“Oh, nothing much happened.”

“Oh?”

“Well,” he paused the game, “had a bit of an issue with my mom today.”

“Yeah?”

He tried to wave it off, but didn’t return to the game. Instead he turned to his fingers, suddenly finding a strand of straying skin infinitely more intriguing than the screen in front of him.

“Mom found some pictures under my bed. Pictures I shouldn’t’ve had anyways.”

I already knew what all of this was about of course, but I couldn’t help but to pry a tad. “Pictures of?”

“Men, nothing nude, but men I found… attractive, in one way or another.”

“Oh.”

“It felt like since it wasn’t graphic it was fine but, Matthew 5:28 states that even gazing lustfully at someone means you have committed adultery with them.”

“Well, surely having some pictures of guys under your bed isn’t the same as sleeping with a guy.”

“But Jehovah has stated that it is as bad. That’s what that scripture is saying. I’m a sinful man, Kai. And, I don’t know if I’ll ever be normal.”

Jehovah was speaking through him to me. No matter what Mom had said, gazing at someone with lust was a sin, plain as day.

Alan knew that. I knew that.

So why couldn’t I get him out of my head?

Without thinking much about it, I blurted out, “hey, we haven’t had a sleepover in a while, you know?”

He chuckled and returned his attention to the TV, resuming the game. “We’re a bit old for that, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say. Why not? We got that congregation picnic tomorrow, so you could just ride with us!”

“Well, alright, if your folks say it’s fine.”

“We can walk down to the corner mart, get snacks, binge SPURRED!”

“Heh, would your Mom let us make a pillow fort in the living room?” He was smiling, and I felt good for getting that smile out of him.

“She didn’t mind it ten years ago, I’m sure she won’t mind it now.”

🎅

“Are you boys seriously building a pillow fort in the living room?” She said it with amusement rather than true judgment. She was holding back an erratic chuckle when she caught sight of Alan crouched inside the fort like a caveman.

“Hey, would you rather we grow up too fast, or too slow?”

“Sometimes too fast and sometimes too slow.” She picked up one of her tasseled throw pillows that had unceremoniously dropped to the ground, and tossed it to Alan. “You boys want anything special for dinner?”

“Nah, we’re gonna fill up on sweets and popcorn.”

“Well I don’t want you both sick at the picnic tomorrow so could you at least promise me you’ll eat a vegetable at some point tonight?”

“Do fried mushrooms count?” I asked, turning to her as I laid a big sheet over the pillow towers we had erected.

“They stop counting as vegetables once they’ve been battered and fried, Kai.”

“Fine, we’ll swap popcorn for kale chips, that good enough?”

“Replace candy with fruit and you’ll make me even happier.”

“Not happening.”

She shrugged. “Jehovah can’t say I didn’t try.”

I returned my attention to Alan, who was currently inside the fort, dumping a bag of mixed candies into a big blue glass bowl.

Alan never had much of a sweet tooth, but he knew I did. He knew all my favorites, namely anything containing chocolate or at least tasting like chocolate, and gummies of every shape and flavor.

He was more into the savory; popcorn, chips, and yeah, he even liked the kale chips my mom kept around. He liked pistachios, and sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds and almonds. I could hardly stand most of it, but he loved it, and it was vice versa for him as well.

The graphic violence didn’t perturb Dad in the slightest however. Violence only bothered him if it was in a videogame we were playing, and since there was no magic in the show it was pretty much considered fine in this Jehovah’s Witness household.

Alan’s family didn’t feel the same about it though, so we usually only got to watch it together at my place.

More than once as we stayed up into the night, our fingers slid against each other as I’d reach for a kale chip or he’d sneak a candy, and I tried to pretend that my heart wasn’t aching for those moments to last longer than they could.

Maybe a sleepover was a bad idea, at least now when I was trying to figure out what my feelings were for him. Maybe it would have been better if I just sent him home, or told him the truth about my feelings so that he’d know to keep his distance from me physically, but I couldn’t.

I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t lose his touch, or his presence. I needed him in my life.

The fifth time it happened, I grasped his hand. He looked at me with surprise.

“Sorry.” He tried to pull away, must’ve assumed I just didn’t want him digging in my candy anymore. But I looked at him, looked him in his eyes. I smiled, I caressed his hand with my finger, and I let him go.

“Remember when we were kids?” I asked.

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

“Well, specifically, remember when I asked you how do you kiss a girl?”

He chuckled and turned red. “Sure I do, you were convinced that me being a year older than you was a whole lifetime ahead. Like I had all the answers.”

“You acted like you did.” I was smiling wide, fidgeting the fingers that had just held his hand. “Remember when we kissed just to practice on each other?”

He giggled. “We both thought we’d be doing a lot more girl-kissing by now.”

“I really miss being a kid. Didn’t have to second guess things like that the way we do now.”

“What, kissing?”

“Well kinda, back then it didn’t mean anything but now, it carries a lot of weight.”

“Don’t you think it should? I mean, we understand now that it would be wrong of us to do stuff like that.”

“But, how far is too far? We hold hands and hug and stuff.”

“Yeah, but, it’s platonic.”

I reached for his hand again and looked up at him. “So this, this is fine?” 

He nodded, but he looked torn.

I moved my hand up, to touch his shoulder, then caressed his cheek.

I smiled. He smiled.

I wanted to kiss him.

I didn’t.

🎅

I was awake at the first sight of pale blue bleaching the night sky through the window just outside our fort. It was a sight that never lasted long, always being replaced by the sunrise soon after, then the near permanence of crisp daylight to follow.

This moment shortly before the sun rose was always special to me, probably because I usually slept through it when I could.

Alan wouldn’t be getting up for at least another hour or so, and then he’d be getting ready alongside my family before we headed out to the picnic around 9. It was bound to be a day full of activities with the friends, and I was genuinely excited for it.

But this moment, where he was sleeping peacefully next to me, his hair messy from tossing around on the pillow for the calmer half of the night, his eyes dipped shut and caught in a dream, his breathing gentle and barely audible, I took it in.

I took it and wrapped it around my finger to never forget it. I took in every sensation, my body inches away from him, a resisted instinct deep inside to wrap my arms around him and awaken him with a kiss on his cheek.

Were these feelings always here; calmly condensed under the surface, just waiting for the bottle to pop so they could spill out everywhere like the foam of a fine champagne?

I found it harder to resist my affection for him as the seconds dragged on, each wave of emotion chipping away at the wall I had built around that bottle, breaking in and shaking it up before that cork popped out, audibly, and out poured my love for Alan Rodriguez.

Love, I always knew I loved him, but this was different. And I was having just as much difficulty figuring out how it was different as I was figuring out how it was the same.

I reached my hand out to just gently caress his hair. Soft, so soft I could sleep on it. His hair felt ephemeral, unreal between my fingers. Like I was touching the feathers that made up the wings of an angel himself.

The strands between my digits electrified my veins, I twirled his hair around my fingers and reveled in the feeling of warmth and butterflies that engulfed me like an unholy flame.

I pulled my hand away, scolding myself. 

This would be the death of both of us if I gave in. Alan was probably holding on by a thread, if I fell down with him then it would seal our fate. We’d become brutally inflamed with one another, just as we had been warned before. There would be no turning back if I dived in with him, his blood would be on my hands.

But my sudden regard for righteousness didn’t erase the fact that Alan was still here next to me, still my temptation, still growing like a tumor that feeds off forbidden love. 

They tell you, “if your right eye causes you to stumble, throw it out.” But Alan wasn’t my eye, he wasn’t a body part I could live without. He was what made my life worth living more than half the time.

He was far less of an eyeball, more like a chamber in my heart, pumping life through my veins, beating in tune and keeping me breathing. Losing him would devastate me, losing him would make everything worthless.

I would rather stumble and struggle with my feelings for him than to ever let him go.

🎅

I was excited for the congregation picnic that day.

Was excited. I was excited right up until Nathan Tuppin caught my eye, his hands holding a plate of cookies covered with plastic wrap.

He looked pretty damn excited to see me, though it was likely my sister Loretta behind me who he was more interested in.

“King of Judah! How are you doing on this fine day?”

I gave him a clearly fake smile. “I’m great.” I was pretty great, I had Alan by my side, free food ahead, beautiful lakeside view, life was great.

If only Nathan would leave I’d be perfect.

“And the lovely Lorrie!” He turned his attention to my sister, giving her a hug before introducing himself to my parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitman, I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to meet? I’m Nathan Tuppin. I just moved to the hall.”

My mom nodded, my father greeted him with half as much enthusiasm. “Nathan, yeah, I’ve heard about you, what brought you to our hall?”

We were walking alongside him, we were so far away from the actual picnic you’d think Nathan had arrived with us. The guy went on for a bit about how he pioneered back home, was the son of an elder and even that one of his uncle’s was a governing body helper back in Bethel. But he came to our hall after moving in with his grandmother, who was sickly and could only listen to the meetings through the phone.

“Oh! You’re sister Paulson’s grandson!”

“Yeah, I’m helping her a lot right now. She needs assistance with groceries and the like. I make sure the house is clean and help her with letter writing for field service.”

“Oh, Kai just started doing letter writing for the first time, haven’t you Kai?”

“Yep.” I could see the picnic in the near distance, brothers and sisters setting up plates and laying out food on the tables while kids ran around and played with sticks and bubbles and inflated balls. Patricia was tossing a filthy white volleyball to two kids when she turned around and caught my eye, and she beamed when she saw Alan by my side.

“Oh, I could give you some great tips, Hezekiah.” Nathan chuckled at me. I continued to ignore him.

“Don’t mind my brother.” Lorrie piped up, getting closer to Nathan so she could chat him up next. “He stayed up all night watching TV with Alan.”

“Oh man, I miss those days. To be a kid again.”

“I ain’t a kid.”

“Sure, sure.” He laughed, like I actually was just a kid to him. The nerve of that guy.

About twenty feet away, I saw Sister Dearcy getting a coke from the cooler. I quickly said something about wanting to go tell her about my job, and booked it out of there.

Alan followed behind, I waved to Sister Dearcy and the sweet woman made her way onto the grass to meet me.

“Kai! How’s my favorite little brother doing?” She acknowledged Alan. “Sorry, my two favorite brothers.”

“Great! I started working at the arcade!”

“Oh see, child? Prayer does work!”

“You said it, Sister Dearcy!”

“Sister, how’s Professor Mittens doing?” Alan asked, apparently being privy to a pet of Sister Dearcy’s that I didn’t even know she had.

“Oh, it looks like we’re gonna have to put him down sadly. But he’s 18 years old, he’s had a good long life for a cat.” Damn, not only did I not know she had a cat but the poor thing is on its deathbed too.

“Awh, I’ll come see him before he’s ready to pass on then. Mind if I bring him a can of tuna?”

“Bring him whatever you want, dear! I been spoiling him mad since we got the news. We gotta make his last days as enjoyable as can be!”

“I didn’t even know you had a cat, Sister, I’m sorry about him though.”

“Oh, Alan comes by to see him every other Saturday, don’tchu, Alan?”

“Well, I go help with mowing the lawn and picking weeds around the house, Professor Mittens just keeps an eye on me and makes sure I do a good job.”

“And you always do!” She rubbed his shoulder affectionately, I smiled. Alan was so damn sweet. When’s the last time I offered to help the elderly friends in the congregation? I paled in comparison to the kind of man Alan was, in every respect.

I didn’t envy him though. I loved him.

I wished he could love me too, in the same way.

We moved on in the day. After a round of kickball in the field with some other teens and a couple older brothers, we sat down for a snack on the lake, me and Alan and this little blonde kid who wouldn’t stop following us around, little “Jake-the-Cake” as he kept calling himself.

The kid was playing in the water, his mother being far too trusting of us to keep her son out of trouble. But Jake-the-Cake hadn’t caused horrible injury to himself or anyone else yet, so we relaxed and ate our smoked ham sandwiches in tandem.

“The poor Professor.” I muttered out, Alan nodded.

“He’s an old boy, just how things go in this world.”

“You think Sister Dearcy will see him again in paradise?”

He tried not to laugh. “I wish animals could get resurrected. But I guess Jehovah can really only make room for people, can’t he?”

“Yeah, guess it wouldn’t be fair. Least we got each other forever though.”

“Yeah.” He looked at me, happy. I reached for his hand, caressed the top with my palm as we shared that moment of connection, uninterrupted, until…

“You guys ain’t going to paradise.” Jake pointed to us. I scowled at the kid.

“What makes you say that?”

“Cause you’re gay, and gay people don’t go to paradise.”

I moved my hand away from Alan’s. “What makes you think we’re gay?”

“You’re two boys and you’re holding hands, that makes you gay!”

“Quiet down, no need to be saying stuff like that.” Alan gave a hushing motion, hoping he could redirect the kid to less antagonizing things he could be shouting by the lake.

“Gay! GayGayGayGayGayGayGay!” He was on a rampage now, spinning in a circle, hardly understanding the words coming from his own little mouth. “Gay people are gonna die! Gay people don’t get to paradise! Gay people are stupid!”

To my shock, Alan got up, grabbed the kid by the shoulder and knelt down to his level before looking him in the eyes and saying sternly, “that’s not for you to decide. That’s not for any human to decide. Only Jehovah determines who’s going to paradise and who doesn’t.”

“But Jehovah says it’s bad to be gay!”

“And is your name Jehovah?” He nearly stumped him, I could tell the kid was deciding his next words carefully.

“Gay! Gay gay gay!” He ripped away from Alan’s grasp and ran off towards the lake again, tripping on a rock and falling face first into the cold wet below.

His first sounds upon lifting his head up out of the water were not ill-informed ventings about gay people, but a blood curdling cry for his mom.

“Mommy! Moooommy!” He ran back in the direction of the picnic, Alan turned to me and looked ashamed of himself.

I wasn’t too bothered. “Kids are suicide machines, ain’t they?”

“You don’t think I was too harsh?”

“Hey, not like you threw him in the water. He got what he deserved.”

I took a bite of my sandwich. He shrugged. “He’s just a kid, he’s got no clue what he was saying.”

“And you corrected him best you could.” I shrugged right back, and patted my hand down where he had been sitting just a few minutes prior. “You ain’t his mom.”

Alan wasn’t sitting down, he was still standing, holding himself with crossed arms and looking out over the lake.

“Maybe we are a bit too touchy with each other, Kai.”

“Come on, Alan, we’re close friends. Friends can touch each other.”

“But, when we touch,” his breath shook, “it’s not like touching family, or touching a friend it’s more like… Fire.”

My heart started dancing when he said it. “Fire?”

“Warm, inviting but, wrong. Like I’ll hurt you, or you’ll hurt me.”

I put down my sandwich, put the plate to the side, and got up to walk over to him. I wanted to hug him, tell him it was fine, but I didn’t touch him. “You’re my best friend, Alan.”

“And you’re mine too, Kai, but…” He gulped. “You know I’m struggling with my sexuality right now.”

“I would never let things go too far between us.”

“Would you? Because it feels like you don’t want to take this nearly as seriously as you should.”

“I, I trust you though.”

“I know myself more than you do, I know there’s a line and I know if we haven’t crossed it then we will eventually.”

“What are you saying then?”

“I’m saying we need to be careful. About what we do, how it’s perceived by others, regardless of our own feelings. What if we seriously stumble someone?”

“Stumble who? That dumb little kid who doesn’t even know what gay means?”

“We could stumble ourselves, Kai. If we haven’t already.”

I was trying to keep myself from getting upset. I considered just turning around and walking away, but he already started to do that exact thing before I could even respond.

“I love you, Alan.” I said behind his back. I saw him nod from behind his shoulder; I knew it meant he loved me too.

He grabbed his plate from off the bench, and turned to me. “I’m gonna go hang out with the friends, I’ll see you later, Kai.”

“Sure.” I waved goodbye, and returned to my spot on the bench as he walked away. 

My heart was torn nearly in two. I felt like I just got broken up with, the subject of my affection letting me down easy but letting me down regardless.

I looked back at the picnic, Alan was chatting with Patricia, she was holding a can of soda pop and twirling her hair while she looked up into his brown eyes.

I envied her at that moment, because if she fell in love with him then that would be fine, she could be open and honest about her feelings and he could reciprocate them if he was inclined. But I knew he wasn’t inclined, he would never be inclined.

But he was inclined towards me. He felt that fire with me, not with her.

And she could have him if she wanted him. But I couldn’t even speak of my affection for him. It was a sin.

I turned my attention to Nathan, who had paired off with Lorretta somewhere not far from the picnic. They were talking, he was putting a flower in her hair and she was giggling.

And as much as I hated Nathan, he could be with Lorretta. He could hold her hand and kiss her and marry her and that was fine because she was born one way and he was born another way.

And I felt for Alan with far more intensity than I was sure Nathan could have conjured up after meeting my sister only twice, yet if they wanted to, they could get married.

But I could never marry the man I loved, because we were born the same.

[hailsantabook]

Chapter 2: Brothers

Chapter 2

Brothers

It truly was a blessed day from Jehovah himself.

I was out with Alan in Foxtrot Circle, a large neighborhood full of expensive, well-manicured brickwall homes, each one at least two stories tall, most of them reaching a third.

We were with a group of older folk, us being the youngest of the bunch, so they understood why we gravitated towards one another when going to doors in pairs. Every now and then Brother Loveland would split us up and have us go with one of the sisters, especially in neighborhoods that looked rough, but once we reached Foxtrot we paired up once again and started our journey from house to house, planning to meet the other groups at the car once each door was knocked on.

Alan looked a bit melancholy as we started on our way, having just had a private discussion with his dad behind the car.

“My father told me he can’t take us to the arcade after service anymore.”

“Why not?”

“He says we’re too old to be going on the way we are, and if we aren’t exhausted after service then we should be going in service longer. Plus, it’s been wreaking havoc on his car.” The second part of his explanation was sound, I could grasp it. The first part felt right to challenge, however.

“We are exhausted after service, that’s why we go to the arcade!”

“Actually, I think he has a point. We’re both young and full of energy, we could be giving so much more to God.”

“But what about our mall time?”

“We’ll still be together all day.”

“But we’ll be in witness mode.”

“We should always be in witness mode, Kai. I never stop being a witness just because I’ve taken my tie off.”

“Well, if it’s gonna be like that, maybe I can get a job and save up for a car. Then we can go to the mall whenever we want.”

Alan smiled. “Maybe that’s a good idea. We could go in service together with it too!”

“Yeah.” I said unenthusiastically. “We could do all sorts of things, have all sorts of freedom. We could travel! We could see America!” I was getting pumped up with my own ideas though. Freedom, far away from here, far away from my family and this boring little state. I could go anywhere with my own car, do anything with my own money, and I could take Alan with me.

I just needed a job.

“Sounds like you have a plan.”

“Yeah, who’s hiring?”

He shrugged. “Sister Dercy works at a retirement home, she says they’re always looking for people.”

Retirement home. Far from glamorous, but yet, so was I.

“I’ll ask her if there’s any openings tomorrow night at the hall.” I changed the subject almost as quickly as I had brought it up. “Did you hear SPURRED’s next season is dropping in two weeks?”

“I still haven’t finished the first two. I think I’m on episode ten overall.”

“Wanna come over and watch it? I’m gonna start the whole series over so I’m ready for season three.”

“Can’t tonight, I have family study with my folks. But maybe tomorrow if you’re free.”

“Can I at least tell you something that happens in season 2? It’s standalone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Season 2, episode 4, is a musical.”

“A musical?” Alan was perturbed. For a cartoon drama about fantasy themed cowboys and outlaws, a musical episode threw a lot of people off.

“It’s good though! I don’t know how they managed it but it doesn’t suck!”

“Why a musical though?”

“It takes a detour from the main story to talk about Scarlett West’s past with her dad.”

“Ohhh, I guess that makes sense, she loves music. I thought it would be Ulysess and Pete showboating like Sinatra!” He laughed at the image, two rough and tough outlaws belting out a song.

“It was apparently supposed to be the opener to the season, but they didn’t want people getting pissed about the show opening on a standalone episode instead of continuing from last season, so they moved it forward.”

“Is the music good?”

“Oh you’ll love it. It’s very broadway, they took a lot of artistic liberty with it. Opens on an old timey stage with Scarlett in children’s clothes, she starts singing about all the shit, er, stuff her dad put her through after her mom died, then it transitions and she starts singing about overcoming that part of her life with Ulysses' gang.”

"Huh, that sounds quite tempting actually. Maybe I'll come over just for that episode."

"My mom is making street corn and tacos if you wanna stay for dinner.”

Alan smiled, tinged with guilt. “I can’t skip family study tonight.”

I nudged his arm as we approached a door and joked aloud, “we could do family study together, like a newlywed couple!”

He bared his teeth with insecurity, looked at me and seethed while hiding a smile. “We’re right at a door, Kai!”

“Fine then, I’ll take this one while waiting on your answer to my proposal.” I walked right up to the door, a giddy feeling in my chest that gave me just enough bravery to knock on the door and impress Alan with an eager attitude.

We waited for a moment, sharing glances back and forth that made each other giggle. It was fun to joke, to pretend we were something we weren’t. 

We didn’t know why, but if it wasn’t real then it wasn’t wrong, of course.

I knocked again, this time being greeted by a raspy “hold on, hold on” coming from the other side of the door.

My heart jumped in fear, a human was behind this one.

A tubby older man with stains coating his old gray wife beater and sparse dirt brown hair opened the door, confusion on his face as he sized us up and down.

“You from the gov’ment?” He asked.

“No sir,” shit, I didn’t prep a presentation, “my name is Hezekiah, this is my friend Alan, and we-”

“You queers? You wanna git married? Want me to sign some petition?”

“No, we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses.” Alan corrected, hand over his heart as he leaned in softly.

The man responded by slamming the door in our faces, mumbling something about “wastin’ mah goddamn time,” as he walked back into the recesses of his home.

Alan shrugged, holding back a giggle until we were far enough away from the door to laugh the entire exchange off out of earshot.

“Some brother or sister will be mighty glad to have that home come paradise.” He walked with confidence away from the house, his head turning to look a bit smugly at the scenery before him, a well manicured lawn with a great big tree next to the driveway.

“That’s a bit morbid, Alan.” I saw what he was getting at, but I wasn’t afraid to correct his overzealous thinking. “You realize he’d have to die for that to happen, right?”

“If your neighbor tries telling you your home is on fire, do you just slam the door in their face?”

“I mean, true, but nobody but us realizes how important the message is, you know? You can’t expect people to take it seriously before they get the chance to know it too.”

“Hmm,” his face turned softer, he looked to me with compassion and raised the tips of his lips, “you’re right, Kai. That’s why this is so important in the first place. That’s why God has humans doing it, to relate to the human condition.”

“Exactly, my brother.” It was such a forced way to say it, but it gave me an excuse to put my hand on his back enthusiastically. Touching him, it wasn’t rare, but always left my skin tingling and my face beaming.

That’s the power of the bond between brothers, I convinced myself.

We came to a beast of a home, nestled deep behind a black gate opened by an archway. Four stories high, a garden that could easily resemble a horticultural museum, sections of plants in variously sized circles set by stones adorning the front yard all the way into the back. Ivy was directed up around edges, giving the house a fairytale aesthetic.

“I’ll take this next one then.” Alan took the lead, his face looking confident and full of godly glory as he walked up the stone steps of the not-so humble abode. He knocked on the door, and we both noted the sign too late, “No Solicitors,” along with the sound of at least two, maybe even three, very large and angry dogs barking all the way to the front door.

He looked to me, his face of confidence turnt red as a woman’s voice called out to the dogs, “Bonnie! Clyde! Get the hell away from the door!”

We both gulped as the sound of locks unlatching rang out from behind the wooden barrier, the dogs still barking all the way.

Alan took a deep breath, he seemed to be whispering “God give me strength” over and over, chanting it for courage.

The woman finally nudged the screen door open, the sound of woofs and howls getting louder and less muffled as more of the home was revealed.

She looked tired, her clothes baggy and messy. I often forgot that not everybody woke up at the crack of dawn on random days of the week to go knock on other people’s doors.

“Goodmorning, how are you ma’am?” Alan began, his cheery, happy-go-lucky attitude in full swing.

“Could be doin' better.” She spoke with her words tainted in a country twang. She turned quickly to snap at the gray pit bull who was trying to claw past her through the metal screen door, “Bonnie, down!”

“If this is a bad time, could I just leave something with you?” He was already reaching for his bag, snatching a pink paper tract titled Can the Dead Live Again?

“Do you mind if I just put them outside really quick?” She was holding back the brown scruffy dog at this point, who I assumed was Clyde, being the only thing keeping him from taking Alan’s soul with his big white chompers.

Alan couldn’t get a word in either way before the door was closed, and slowly the barking diminished, until both canines were behind a sliding glass door in the back of the house.

I was looking through a window, probably shouldn’t have been peeking. Though the home’s yard was beautifully manicured, the inside looked rough. Takeout boxes strewn about the kitchen, a large bag of dog food was open and half empty on the floor. Several boxes cluttered the remaining parts of what I could see through the single pane of glass, but I had a feeling it was only worse throughout.

I could see the woman approaching once more, opening the door a little bit wider this time, as though she wasn’t ashamed of the state of her home.

Alan snapped back into witness mode. “You’re right, much more peaceful now.” He smiled wide, radiating warmth and comfort from his friendly face as he directed her attention to the tablet in his hand.

“My name is Alan, and this is my friend Hezekiah. We’re out here today sharing scriptures and working to help build faith among our neighbors. Could I share a scripture with you?”

“I think I got a letter from one of you’s, you Jehovah Witnesses?”

“Yes, ma’am. You got a letter from us?”

“I think I got it right here actually.” She turned her attention to a small chest of drawers near the window inside, mail scattered all around and on top of it. She opened a couple drawers until finally she took out a bright yellow envelope.

My father’s witnessing envelopes.

She gave out a sniffle, excused herself and handed it over.

Alan took a look at it. “Oh, yes, sometimes we send letters to those who have recently lost loved ones or those we can’t reach otherwise. Have… Have you lost someone?”

She nodded, her eyes growing wet. “My husband. He passed not long ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ma’am.” Alan’s compassion was heartfelt. I could tell he wanted to reach out and give her a hug, but something in us both said it would be best not to be so forward with a stranger.

“I’m left with his dang dogs in his dang house.” She held herself, arms crossed, eyes closed, waiting for the nightmare to be over.

“Could, could I share a scripture from the bible with you?” Alan resorted to the only other form of comfort he knew, witnessing.

The woman seemed alright with it though, nodded in response.

He performed a couple well-intentioned taps on his tablet before bringing it up, the legendary Revelations 21:4.

“Here, God is making a promise to mankind, to you and me as individuals along with everyone else on this earth. Here God tells us, he will wipe out every tear from our eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore.”

I was reading along, and caught his clever word change. Subtle, but effective, I thought.

The woman gulped down a tear. “I’m not a very religious woman, sir.”

“Well that’s alright. We are no part of Christendom, we are an independent organization of bible students.”

“You’re a very kind man, Alan, was it?”

“Yes, and my friend here is Hezekiah.”

“Kai, for short.” I butted in, just to say I said something.

“Well, you boys be safe out there. Thank you, Alan. I appreciate you boys tryna help just, this ain’t what I need right now.”

“You have a lovely day, ma’am. As… As lovely as it can be. I do hope you find genuine peace in this time of immense distress.”

“I’ve been looking for that. Peace.”

She shut the door, and we were left there, Alan still holding the pink tract between his fingers as he put his tablet back in his bag.

He brought the tract to his own attention as he began to turn around, contemplating what he should do with it.

I was already facing the other direction, looking back as I was walking away.

“You coming?”

He shook his head quickly, as if shooing away cowardice. He turned back towards the house, and slid the tract carefully through the metal panel of the screen, leaving it bent against the door, holding it in place and ensuring it would fall to the woman’s attention once she opened her home up again.

He turned back around and placed his hands in his coat pockets, looking satisfied with himself.

“I had an unshakable feeling that tract needed to be with her.” He joined me, his long legs not taking him long to catch up as we walked back towards the sidewalk.

“That one specifically?”

“Yeah. I mean, the subject matter of it. Not specifically that tract that I left.”

“I mean, if she got a letter from a witness after her husband died, she probably already has that tract.” I smiled, he held back a laugh with a tight grin.

“Well, now she's got two I guess. Maybe it's not what she needs right now but maybe sometime in the future.”

“You think so? Think she’s gonna come running up to you at a convention?”

“I can’t bet on it, but the thought is nice.”

He was such a cheesy one. We heard stories like that all the time, brothers and sisters running into people they had witnessed to years prior at assemblies and conventions.

I always found it hard to recognize people I had only met once, and I didn’t stand out as a young man to any degree. Ask an AI to generate you an image of an average Jehovah’s Witness teenage boy, and you’d see me.

How anyone could pick out my face in the crowd, without knowing me personally first, sounded impossible. I didn’t believe it could ever happen to me.

So it felt like even if I could make a secret impression on anyone in my ministry, I’d never know it. I thought more about how awful I was as a Jehovah’s Witness because I couldn’t make those impressions on people, I couldn’t be ballsy and challenge their beliefs, I couldn’t insist on leaving a tract when I was told they weren’t interested, I couldn’t look a grieving woman in the face and tell her she was going to see her husband again in paradise.

But Alan could. 

And Alan did, every day almost, seeing no need to take a break as he was young, strong, and healthy. He was overzealous to a fault, but he also made my life easier.

If I couldn’t be the quick-witted zealot with a love for the ministry as passionate as the flames of Jah, then I’d be a loyal partner to the man who could be that way, hoping his spirituality would not only rub off on me, but that his love for all of this would ignite in myself just by being around him.

So, we were faithful service partners, spreading truth and righteousness to all who would listen (and all who refused.)

Book of Scarlet was episode 4 of SPURRED’s second season. Despite it receiving low ratings among critics and audiences alike, the music made for the episode became so beloved that it was eventually released on its own album.

There is a line in the last song, a foreshadowing of what was to come. 

He’s her new dear, also a queer, laying it down for the man himself.

“Did she just say what I think she said?” I was catching it for the first time, somehow having missed it on my first watch, likely the result of a bathroom break.

“Something about Pete being queer.” I rewound it, and sure enough, up came Chloe, a shapeshifting harlot, belting her part of the song while a symphony of sound erupted behind her voice, he’s her new dear, also a queer, laying it down for the man himself.

“She said it! She said Pete is queer!”

“She was talking about Pete?”

“She’s talking about Scarlet and says her new dear.”

“You didn’t tell me Scarlet gets with Pete.” Alan looked genuinely confused. “I always figured he was gay.”

“Wait, you thought Pete was gay before?”

He nodded. “It’s pretty obvious, Kai.”

“I’ve never taken Pete to be gay.”

“He shares a room in the cabin with Ulysses.”

“They’re cowboys! They don’t have a lot of sleeping space!”

“And Ulysess has been telling Pete he needs to at least pretend to be normal if he wants to leave the gang and join his traditional family again.”

“I thought he meant normal, like, stop killing people and robbing kind of normal.”

“I can’t blame you for being oblivious. It’s pretty coded at times, but it’s intentional.”

“Coded?”

He sighed, as if he shouldn’t know that term. Then he shrugged as he explained, “content created by those who want to address LGBT topics, especially in the past prior to gay rights movements, sometimes contained coded references to homosexuality. It was so those who were not in the know wouldn’t object to the content, and those who were could see themselves represented.” He uncrossed his legs, suddenly becoming aware of his position. “Not that I’m in favor of that, it’s just, that’s how it is in the world.”

“That’s interesting. So it’s like Where’s Waldo but only gay people know how to play.” I chuckled and hit resume on the episode for the sake of respecting Alan’s time here. His dad gave him until 6PM to be home in time for family worship, and it was already 5:28.

Mom had started on the tacos while we finished the episode, the scent of spices and ground beef filling the living room and reminding me of just how empty my stomach was.

Alan looked like he was being tortured by the smell, his stomach giving out an audible gurgle. I had been with him since 7AM, and had only seen him eat a bag of trail mix and half a bagel.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay for tacos?”

“I truly wish I could, it smells amazing.” He sighed as he raised up to his legs. “But I really have to be going.”

Just then, Mom walked into the living room, a rolled up apron on her arm. 

“Kai, don’t forget your father and I are going out tonight. Alan, are you staying for tacos?”

“I can’t, I have family study tonight.”

“Well, more for you and your sister then, Kai. I’m gonna go get ready, have a good family study Alan.” She waved goodbye to him as she walked down the hallway and towards her bedroom. I looked up at Alan, raised myself up off the couch and still couldn’t quite meet his gaze face on.

Regardless, I pulled him into a bear hug, felt warm at the chuckle of surprise he gave out before holding me back tightly.

“Why don’t we just move out together and be pioneer brothers?” I mumbled into his chest, muffled by his pink dress shirt.

He patted my back before we pulled away and straightened up. “I’m afraid we’d need money for that. And last I checked, neither of us make any money.”

“If only going in service would earn us a stipend.”

“Hey, we may be poor in physical wealth, but we’re saving up riches with Jah.”

“I don’t suppose we could ask Jah to rent us an apartment, could we?”

“Likely not. I’ll text you when I get home, alright Kai?” He was walking towards the door, making his way out of my circle and back into the world. I took every last glance I could at my friend, following him to the entrance of my home, hands in my back pockets, only coming to realize just then that I was still wearing my suit and tie.

“If you don’t, I’m gonna have to spam your phone with the duck again.”

He hmm’d to himself and let out an audible breath from his nose before smiling deviously. “I won’t let you get the chance!” he said before bolting out the door, running back towards his house and laughing while he looked back at me, giving a small wave while he pulled out his phone.

I rushed back inside, running for my own phone, knowing my duty was to send that duck pic before he could send a text through.

I had it on standby in its own folder especially for this game we played, this mini battle of speed we enacted at least a couple times a week. 

But this time, he beat me.

;)

A winky face, just as I was hitting send on the duck.

Foiled again! 

He rubbed it in.

I’m gonna learn how to modify my phone just so I’ll have a button that immediately sends you that duck.

He started typing once more.

See what you’d have to do to match a fraction of my power?

I sent the duck twelve more times simply out of spite.

Sister Dearcy was talking to a rotund and tall young man when I saw her at the Kingdom Hall the following night. A chubby guy, with thick arms and a neck so large I was surprised he could find a tie for it at all. He was wearing a black trilby to cover his crisp golden blonde hair, and his bright blue eyes caught sight of mine as I walked over with the intention of stealing Sister Dearcy away from him for a moment.

“Oh, Kai!” She saw me out of the corner of her eye and greeted me with the warmest smile. She hugged me tight, 3 firm squeezes in her frail little arms, before releasing me and laying a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Hezekiah, this is Brother Tuppin, he just moved here.” He grinned and looked at me with a sharp turn in his face, doing his absolute best to look cool, and absolutely failing.

I raised an eyebrow at his stance, hands on his hips, his body hardly swaying as he looked me straight in the eyes and moved his mouth with as much exaggeration as possible as he spoke, “Nathan, pleasant to meet you, Hezekiah. Fellow king of Judah?”

“Nice to meet you too.” I lied. I didn’t like him already.

“Oh, isn’t this wonderful, boys? Now you and Alan won’t be so lonely being the only brothers in your age group here!”

We aren’t lonely, I wanted to say, but I bit my lip and returned to what I originally came to Sister Dearcy for. “Sister, can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” She turned her attention back to Tuppin rather quickly, “Oh, Nathan, that boy over there, the tall one? That’s Kai’s best friend Alan, he’s a wonderful brother. You should go introduce yourself!”

Nathan bowed at her. “I think I shall then, sister!” He walked off towards Alan, and I felt a hot heat travel up my spine.

I had nothing to be concerned with, though. Alan would be able to see through that phony demeanor, I had no doubt about it.

I returned my attention to Sister Dearcy. “Sister, I’ve been looking for a job and I was wondering if there’s any openings where you work?”

“Oh!” She touched her heart before raising her eyes heavenwards, then returned to face me, putting a hand on my arm. “Let me tell you something, not two weeks ago, my boss asked me if I would assist in decorating for the holidays this year. I told him I’m sorry, Mr. Palmer, but I’m afraid my conscience would not allow me to participate. He told me Dearcy, it’s not that big of a deal. He said he lets me have far too much leeway in terms of my faith, and that even one of my Jewish coworkers was assisting in the decorating. I told him well Mr. Palmer, you can have this dang job!” She nodded her head fast, reenacting nearly the entire exchange.

I looked at her for a short moment of silence before responding. “You quit?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have liked working there anyways, being around a bunch of old grumpy people all day?” She laughed through her nose, her lips tightly closed in a hum as she shook her head. “You can find a job, Hezekiah, you just need to pray!”

I felt a little let down, but it wasn’t Sister Dearcy’s fault. She was right, though, there were plenty of jobs available for me, I just needed some faith that God would lead me to the right one.

“Thank you, Sister Dearcy. I’m sorry you lost your job over that.”

“It’s just a matter of faith, dear!”

She said her goodbyes to me and moved on to continue socializing with the other congregants. Hands in my pockets, I turned to see Alan walking up to me, making his way through brothers and sisters equally who kept stopping him to tell him this or that. At some point his father had handed him an envelope full of cash that he was to drop in the donations box, himself feeling too weak once he had sat down to do it himself.

My sight of the Tuppin kid was lost, until I caught him all the way in a corner chatting up Loretta and her dutiful companion Patricia.

As much as it irked me, Lorrie had a good head on her shoulders for the most part. She was my big sister, surely she could smell Nathan’s bullshit from a mile away. She was probably just being nice.

“Kai, you get a job yet?” Alan grinned at me, expecting the conversation with Sister Dearcy to have gone swimmingly.

“Nope. Sister Dearcy quit her job because they wanted her to decorate for the holidays.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kai, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright.” I waved my hand. “I’m thinking tomorrow I’ll have my mom drop me off at the mall so I can go apply to a bunch of places at once.”

“Be funny if you could work at the arcade.”

“Wouldn’t that be the dream?” It would be fun, I figured. Could probably get good enough at the games that I eventually beat Alan in a few of them too.

“Have you met the new guy?”

“I have.” I nodded, he was still over there talking to Loretta, Patty had wandered off elsewhere and left her alone with him. Lorrie was giving him her phone, exchanging numbers it looked like. “Don’t like him.”

Alan turned in the direction I was looking. “Well, sure, he’s a little off but he seems alright.”

“He’s under the age of 50 and he’s wearing a hat in the Kingdom Hall.”

Alan shrugged. “Maybe he has a bald spot?”

“I highly doubt it. Plus, he talks like he’s in an anime.” I corrected myself, people in anime can be cringey, but they’re still far cooler than Nathan thought he was. “Thinks he’s in an anime, at least.”

“I’m sure if you could wear a cowboy hat to the Kingdom Hall you would, Kai.” 

“Cowboy hat would be way cooler than that eyesore on his head too.” I felt that heat again when I saw him reach out and hug Loretta for far, far too long.

It was my first time going to the mall for something other than unwinding with Alan. In fact, this was my first time going to the mall without Alan, this mall specifically at least.

Mom dropped me off and told me to call her when I was finished. She offered to come in and help me, but I wanted to do it alone. I wanted to feel, for the first time in my life, that I was a capable adult.

I had a folder full of resumes that stated nearly nothing except my volunteer work as a Jehovah’s Witness. Dad told me he once got a job based purely off the fact that he reasoned his experience in the ministry counted as sales. I found it hard to believe, but it was literally all I had.

I started with the booths that were scattered throughout the mall, first asked them how they started working there and if they’d pass my resume along to their higher ups. When I happened to turn around at one of the booth workers I just spoke to only to find her tossing the resume in the garbage, my heart sank, and I started going to the stores instead.

At the first shop, a loose tea store with overpriced canisters and beautifully decorated teapots, I was turned down by the manager herself because she already had all the staff she needed.

Rejected, I moved on to the cellphone shop next door, only to be told they only take online applications.

The jewelry shop seemed iffy to even talk to me, I guess I looked far too young to be trusted with criminally expensive bracelet charms.

And each stop in the food court returned similarly daunting results.

However, I still had a folder full of useless resumes, and I had only covered the first floor. I had a good ways to go, so I grabbed myself a pretzel with the $10 Mom gave me, and hopped on the elevator to the second floor.

There wasn’t much difference here. “Applications are online only.” “The manager isn’t in right now, but I can give him your resume.” “Sorry, we aren’t accepting applications right now.” “Are you sure you’re old enough to even be working?”

I felt defeated, my feet were tired, and there were hardly any stores left that I hadn’t been rejected from. I was taking a break and checking my phone on one of those massage chairs, spending the final $5 that was left after I got my pretzel, when I realized I hadn’t yet asked the arcade workers if they would kindly reject me and send me on my way yet.

I messaged Alan to let him know how my adventure in job finding was going, and he responded with that picture of the duck, making me chuckle a bit. A slice of joy on this otherwise dreary day.

Have you tried the arcade yet?

Not yet. Was thinking about stopping there next.

Do it!

He sent the duck two more times.

Albird demands it!

Albird needs to chill, I’ll do it when I’m done wallowing in my misery.

When you’re finished there, I’ll get a ride with your mom to come get you and we can watch SPURRED tonight.

My heart jumped with joy at the prospect.

The only thing that could make this day any better in that case would be if I get a job.

He sent the damn duck again.

Albird believes in you.

And so do I!

I sent a smiley face back, my back massage having come to its destined end. I got up, pink folder under my arm, and I waltzed into the arcade.

It was pretty empty this early in the day, the only populator being a lone worker in her purple polo, her name tag reading Trisha.

She was obnoxiously chewing a wad of gum, her hazy eyes glued to a phone that was laying on the glass display case she stood behind, her cheek resting on her hand while she scrolled along on her device.

I had seen her a handful of times before, but usually there was a short, skinny dude working the front. He probably came in later, and therefore they wouldn’t be needing me.

“Hey there!” I announced myself, and her bright green eyes shot up to mine.

“Hey, arcade is self-serve, you can get coins from the kiosk.” She was hoping to return to her phone when I walked a bit closer and made my case clearer.

“Oh, I’m not here to play. I was wondering if-”

“Job application?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Give it here.” She held out her hand, her eyes returning to the phone. I fumbled a bit before opening up the folder and grabbing two resumes by mistake, putting one down in front of her before trying, and failing, to peel the top one off.

She slapped her hand down and grabbed them both, taking a quick look before looking back up at me quizzically.

“For experience you just put sales?”

 “I’ve never had a job before. But, I volunteer in field service as a Jehovah’s Witness, it’s like sales.”

She laughed, covering her mouth to keep from seeming rude. She straightened up and looked it over further, flipping to the other page only to find it was just another copy.

I shrugged. “Gotta have faith, right?”

“Alright. You want a job? How’s $8 an hour for cleaning boogers off arcade machines sound?”

“Sounds great, anything is better than nothing.”

“Alright then…” she trailed off, looked for my name on the resume and raised her eyebrows when she saw it, “Hezekiah Whitman, what a name.”

“They thought I was a girl before I was born, my name was going to be Orpah Anais Whitman.” I don’t know why I confessed that, but she seemed amused by it.

“You must’ve heard that one and grew a pecker before you popped out, huh?” She giggled to herself before handing the resume back over to me, “when can you start, Mr. Whitman?”

“You can call me Kai. And I can start as soon as tomorrow if you need me.”

“Good. My other guy stopped showing up for work three days ago, hasn’t responded to messages, probably OD’d in an alleyway so, job is yours.” She walked over to a cardboard box sitting on a black metal folding chair in the corner, started sifting through it before pulling out two purple polos with the logo for the arcade on the left hand side.

She put them on the display case in front of me before switching her attention to the register and checking a couple drawers underneath it, the third one containing a couple blank white name tags. She grabbed one and turned back to me.

“Write your name, doesn’t gotta be your real name, you could put Orpah on there for all I care. Tomorrow…” she cut herself off and turned around to look at a neon blue analog clock on the wall, “can you show up at like, 1PM? I’ll show you the ropes before it gets too busy, usually around 5 is when we get anything resembling a crowd.”

“Sure, that sounds perfect!” I was elated, felt like I was walking on clouds, I got a job!

And at the arcade too! I couldn’t wait to tell Alan.

“Alrighty kid, I’ll see ya then.”

I thanked her profusely, and we quickly swapped phone numbers before I gathered my things and went on my way.

My legs were shaking with excitement as I walked away, my face beaming while I looked for Alan’s name in my contacts and gave him a ring.

“Alan! Guess what!”

“You got the job at the arcade?”

“Yes!”

“I was praying you would!” I gave a little jump in my step at his proud tone. “Faith! That’s all it takes!”

“I’m thanking Jah so much right now!” I laughed, nearly dropping my new name tag off the shirts I was holding in my other arm. “I gotta call Mom though and have her pick me up.”

“No need! She’s right here!” He was at my house, for all I know he was praying with my mom that I’d get this job.

“Congratulations Kai! We’re on our way to get you now!” 

“I’ll be meeting you guys at the front entrance then.” I said my goodbyes to Alan and my mom, a smile on my face a million miles wide.

I did it. I got a job!

Now what?

[hailsantabook]

Chapter 1: Baptism

Chapter 1

Baptism

My palms were pouring sweat like I had fire hoses implanted in my pores. My heart was racing so fast it could put Secretariat to shame. My mouth felt dry, I wanted words to come out but they wouldn’t.

“Kai,” My father’s voice sputtered out from beside me, “is there a problem?”

“No, I’ll say it, just-”

“You’re baptized now, Kai. Can’t just be freezing up when asked to say a prayer.”

My sister rolled her eyes, her plate of chicken curry steaming up her glasses as she waited on me, “can you hurry up? I’m starving.” 

I gulped, sat up straight and bowed my head. “Dear Jehovah God in heaven, we come before you,” I huffed a quick sigh to relieve the swelling feeling in my chest. I hated this. Why did I have to do it at all? Why can’t they say their own damn prayers? 

“We come before you,” I repeated, gave myself some time to come up with more words to sacrifice on the altar of my tongue before God, “to thank you for these meals you have provided us, and for the companionship you have provided us, and for, uhhh,” I stammered, gulped again. Dad cleared his throat intentionally, like he was trying to get me to remember something.

Oh yeah. I got baptized today.

“Thank you for bringing me closer to you today, Jehovah, for, um,” I couldn’t find the words. Thank you for baptizing me? Thank you for letting me get baptized? Thank you for letting me sign over my life to your earthly organization?

“For being my shepherd, and guiding me to the waters in which I was baptized today. Amen.”

I looked up quickly, Loretta already had her fork in hand, her best friend Patricia was unfolding her roll of silverware right beside her. I looked to her side at a tall man, with the kindest brown eyes opening wide behind his black glasses.

He gave me a sweet smile. “That was beautiful, Kai.”

“Thank you.” I looked to my father, who was less impressed.

“When we get home, remind me to teach you how to say a proper prayer.”

Mom hushed him. “It was his first time saying a prayer for a group, Tim.” She turned to me, a soft grin on her lips, “you did great, sweetheart.”

“Thanks Mom.” I slouched back down, started picking at my food.

I glanced at my dad who was obnoxiously staring at our waitress. She was helping another table, her body facing ours as she handed a fist-full of straws to some thirsty patrons. Dad tsked, he had clearly found something objectionable about her, he always did.

“That little striped heart on her blouse, it’s the trans flag, isn’t it?”

I looked at her, Alan turned around too out of curiosity. “Yeah, blue, pink and white.”

“So our waiter is a man masquerading as a woman? Lovely.”

“Maybe she's just showing support.”

“The more you change your body, the more you disgrace God, Hezekiah. Nobody should support that.”

“How’s everything going over here?” The waitress in question appeared before us, checking in with one of her hands holding a nearly empty pitcher of iced water.

“Everything is fantastic, thank you.” Alan smiled at her, showing human decency, something Dad couldn’t afford regardless of the cost.

The older man suddenly raised his hand, and my heart sunk believing it to be the start of a confrontation. I was right.

“Actually yes, could we get a basket of bread please?”

“Right away!” She walked off in the direction of the kitchen, and I gave dad a quizzical look.

“Dad, why do you want more bread?”

“Shhh, this is a chance to leave a witness, son.”

“Oh God, Dad please, don’t do what I think you’re gonna do.”

“We’re Jehovah’s Witnesses, and we speak out in fearlessness, son.”

“Dad, I just want to have a nice dinner with you guys, we’re supposed to be celebrating, not preaching to the public.”

“If nobody knows we’re here on Jehovah’s behalf, then we may as well not be here at all, Kai.”

I turned to my mom, the slightly more level-headed one when it came to matters like these. “Mom, stop him, please.”

She shook her head. “You’re not actually going to do the bread thing to her, are you Tim?”

“Margret, it’s a fantastic analogy and it gets the point across. Ah, here he comes now.”

The waitress showed up with a brown woven basket full of freshly heated bread buns and cups of butter.

“What’s this?” Dad looked to her with mocking irateness. “I asked for bread!”

Her calm and professional demeanor quickly flashed into confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Well this is clearly a basket full of steak!”

Her confusion only sunk more. “I beg your pardon?”

Dad grabbed one of the buns and held it up. “This, it’s a big juicy steak, is it not?”

Her eyes were wide as dinner plates as she crossed her palms over one another and tried to comprehend the situation. She subtly shook her head.

“What is it, then, if it’s not steak?”

“It’s bread, sir.”

He smiled at her. “Now you’re getting it.” He put the bun back into the basket, “when we see something differently from what is true, we are right to be called out on it, correct?”

She seemed to be getting the point my dad was getting at. And she didn’t look too flattered by it.

“Is this about my pin?” She shrugged the shoulder that housed the offending object, furrowed her brow as she waited for Dad’s response.

“Just remember this, God made you a man. Men are among the strongest and most intelligent of God’s creatures. Women were meant to subject themselves to men. Why would you choose subjection if it is not what was meant for you?”

“I was born a woman.” She crossed her arms, her face flush with controlled anger. “I wear this pin in honor of my best friend. He died three years ago.”

She was nearly shaking, I could tell she wanted to slap him. Every part of me was wishing she would.

Instead though, she stifled a tear and walked away quickly, making a beeline for the bathroom before chatting with another waiter and pointing in our direction. Handing off the torch to someone who could handle our table, it seemed.

“Dad, that was-” I wanted to say unbearable, embarrassing, stupid, hateful. Dad was too much of a narcissist to fill in the gap with something accurate.

“Right, right. Remember, son, we all make mistakes. What counts is having the bravery to speak up for what’s right, whether it’s taken the right way or not.”

“You made a woman cry for no reason.”

“But Jehovah is smiling down, and a seed has therefore been planted.”

“Tim, could we just eat out once without you trying to teach moral lessons to random civilians?”

“Margret, it is our duty to guide sheep towards Jehovah. No matter what that shepherding may look like in the moment. She could come to our Kingdom Hall one day and thank me for calling out her out from the darkness of her path and towards Jehovah’s guiding light.”

“If that’s what you wanna think, Tim, go ahead.”

“Mom, you don’t support what Dad did today, do you?”

She sighed, lifting up a pair of fluffy blue pajama pants out of the laundry basket beside her. “I don’t approve, no. I don’t like the way he goes about things like that. I think it does far more harm than good.” She dropped them to her lap, looking around for a moment to find the words. “But, he’s my husband. Whether I approve of his antics or not, I have to support him. All I can do is give him a push in the right direction.”

“But, being so harsh like that is bound to turn people away from us. From God, right?”

She breathed in harsh, knowing this was the millionth time in her life that she was facing scrutiny on Dad’s behalf. “If that woman is actually one of Jehovah’s future sheep, she’ll find her way to him. Remember that everyone has free will, Kai.”

“But if Jehovah’s sheep will always find him eventually, why do we witness at all?”

“Well, we witness to call the sheep towards God. It’s their choice if they want to follow.”

“But-”

“Kai, it’s past your bedtime. Go get some sleep, alright?” She was talking to me, facing my direction and giving me the command. But I knew in reality, she was talking to herself.

Alan’s bedroom was always so immaculate compared to mine. Despite barely having room for his dresser, he had two simple bookshelves, one filled with JW literature, the other containing books of poetry and novels of the greats, Oscar Wilde, Edgar Alan Poe, Robert Frost, and dozens more.

Alan loved reading, especially poetry and short stories. He loved writing too. He held his own work in a little blue book on his desk that he wrote in during his free time, what little of it he gave himself.

I had always been tempted to take a peak inside and actually read the words of my best friend, but he never let me. He’d always snatch the book away when he caught me being nosy, and he’d change the subject.

“So how’s baptized life treating you, Kai?”

“Don’t really know. Feels like nothing’s changed.”

“Well, you can pioneer now.”

“I know, I just, I thought it would be like being born again. I thought I’d physically feel my old self shedding away when I rose up out of the water, that I’d suddenly have the zeal and drive to do more for God.”

Alan shook his head. “I could’ve told you that wasn’t going to happen. The change is gradual, not immediate.”

“It was immediate for Jesus!”

“Jesus was a perfect manifestation of God’s love for mankind, not a teenager from Greenville.”

“Good point. Well, least I got baptized at all, I was starting to think it’d never happen.”

Alan chuckled in his year-older wisdom. “You’re only 18. Jesus was in his 30s!”

“Well, you got baptized at 11. Dad always shoved that in my face, ‘you’re such good friends and yet you don’t even follow his example.’”

“You weren’t ready. Every flower blooms in its own time. Your dad should know that, didn’t he get baptized in his twenties?”

“Well yeah, but to him it was different, his side of the family is all agnostic. He wasn’t raised a Witness, he said I should take advantage of the fact that I didn’t have to go looking for the truth, that I was born into it so I had more time to dedicate to God.”

“You’re still your own person though.”

“I don’t know, am I? I feel like I didn’t even do it for me. I feel like I just did it to get everyone off my back.”

“If that were the case, Jehovah wouldn’t have let you get baptized.”

I shrugged. “You really believe that?”

“Of course. If you weren’t sincere, the elders would have picked up on that. They would have told you to wait. You’re here now, and you’re baptized, so that alone implies that you were ready for the plunge.”

“I don’t know. If you can only get baptized when you’re ready, then why are there so many apostates?”

“Well, that’s the worst thing about apostates, Kai. They were ready, they had the truth, and they had God’s love. Then they allowed self-righteousness to bubble up within their hearts, they let Satan in. The Devil breeds his strongest warriors out of those who were once loyal to Jehovah. It’s a reminder to guard our hearts with vigor.

“You’re baptized now, Kai. You have to be careful, Satan is going to do his best to take you away. Temptations will soon latch onto you unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.”

“Heh, and what temptations did Satan latch onto you when you got baptized?”

He blushed. “Well, you’re my best friend, so maybe it’s time I told you.” He grasped his own arm and nodded to the side, like it was extremely uncomfortable to even consider what he was about to tell me. “I, I struggle with homosexual tendencies.”

I blushed in return. Of all the things he could have told me, I really didn’t expect that.

“You’re gay?”

“No!” He corrected quickly, nearly shouting it before vigorously shaking his head. “I struggle, yes, but I won’t accept the label. I’m not gay. I’m, I’m straight with extra steps.”

“Yeah, I mean, I think I get it. I’ve thought about other men too, before. Just never really thought it could be something I’d struggle with. I barely even think about girls that way.”

“Don’t let it in, Kai.” He shook his head. “I let it in, and it’s been eating me alive ever since. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t struggle with unclean thoughts about men. Never let that curiosity get the best of you.”

“Well, why is it wrong? Jesus really never talked about it.”

“Jesus never talked about a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong. We shouldn’t focus on what Jesus didn’t say. It’s been very clear since the dawn of man that homosexuality is wrong.”

“But why is it wrong?”

“Well, the pieces don’t fit. When men… do things… with each other, they have to go through a whole process. They have to decide who’s going to pretend to be the woman, they have to have lubricant since their… entrances aren't meant to have anything go in there, they have to clean themselves out first so they don’t cover their partner in fecal matter. It’s disgusting, it’s a disgrace to God’s perfect arrangement of intercourse.”

I nodded along, hoping he couldn’t see through my ambivalence. Lovemaking being more messy or difficult just because it was between men didn’t seem like a reason for it to be an undoubtable sin.

“What about love, though?”

“What about love?”

I shrugged. “What if two men are in love but they just don’t have intercourse? Would that still be wrong?”

Alan raised his eyebrows. “Well, I don’t,” he scratched at his neck, “I don’t know.”

“It could be possible, right?”

“But love should lead to intimacy, that’s how Jehovah intended things to be.”

“Well, how about this. A man and a woman, they’re in love, they’re married, but they’ve never slept together because they’re both asexual. That’s not wrong in the slightest, right?”

“No, of course not. But if they were to be intimate, they could, and that’s what counts.”

“Okay, maybe the woman and the man are both disabled and can’t be intimate. Specifics aside, it could happen, right? They can’t be together that way.”

“Jehovah would understand a situation like that, I’m sure.”

“Well then, intimacy aside, what makes two men being in love wrong?”

Alan looked away, his features falling still. “I don’t know.”

I felt bad. I had used my reasoning for wrongdoing. I had enlisted doubt in his mind, and as a result I was assisting Satan in corrupting my best friend.

“Alan, I don’t mean to tear down your walls or anything I just, I wanna understand it too, and I never have.”

“The bible is clear enough that I don’t have to fully understand it to respect it. God says men should not lie with men, I have to obey that.” He looked melancholy, like he was somehow hoping the opposite could make sense to him.

“Right. But, you could love a man.”

Alan smiled to himself and looked at me tenderly. “I already do.”

Automatically assuming he meant his brotherly love for me, I smiled in return and went to put a hand on his shoulder. But then he looked up.

“Three men, actually. Jehovah, Jesus,” he opened his mouth, then turned back to me, “and you.”

Well, at least I was included.

Mornings in my home were rapid and unwavering. Monday through Friday, Dad would be getting ready for work while Mom prepared for taking the remainder of our family, namely me and Lorretta, out in service.

Regardless, we began every morning with the daily text before we scuttled away from the dining room table, Lorrie and I would bicker about who got to take a shower first and Mom would retreat to the bedroom to finish picking service clothes and say her private morning prayer. She told me it helped her wind her emotions down before the day began, and I believed her. Every day she’d walk out of the bedroom fresh as a daisy with a pleasant smile on her face.

I wished prayer had that effect on me. I figured it was something that would come with age, a result of getting to know Jehovah over a multitude of years. I thought that maybe now that I was baptized, praying would start affecting me more.

I tried it that morning once I finally got into the shower, a private prayer, nobody but me and God and the pitter patter of water falling from the shower.

When I finished, I opened my eyes, and…

Nothing.

It will happen, I reassured myself. Eventually it would fall into place. Eventually my eyes would open up and I’d see what exactly I got baptized for, I had complete faith in that fact.

And until I could find joy in the mere act of walking into a Kingdom Hall before field service, I could at least find joy in seeing Alan there, waving at me, ready to take on the day together as we knocked on doors and performed our deliveries of spiritual food.

Alan was smart, incredibly smart. He was the most put together and brainy person I knew. While more than half of his brilliant mind was filled with Jehovah’s Witness exclusive biblical lore, scriptures, and a bible based sense of right and wrong, the remainder of his brain power would often bewilder and dazzle me.

In particular, his uncanny talent for gaming.

For a guy who didn’t give himself much free time, Alan had this ability to pick up and master almost any videogame instantly.

A couple seconds of watching someone on an arcade machine later, he’d step up for his turn and fuse to the controls, his nimble fingers testing each button and knob a handful of times before pressing play and blowing the fellow patrons away. Racking up scores so fast and with such ease you’d swear he was a cyborg designed for mastering the digital art.

I can’t even describe the rush I’d get from watching him, something about witnessing a man in his element, distraction free, his eyes dancing across the screen rapidly, open and inhaling information like a computer. His fingers tapping, clicking, swiftly knocking around and about as though they had minds of their own and jobs they knew how to do by heart. All while his body stayed perfectly still, a suit on, separating his elegant, formal figure from the rest of the arcade-goers around us.

That suit was a constant reminder of the reality of our lives, we weren’t just two teenage boys out at the mall having fun on the weekend. We were two spiritual brothers who got dropped off at the mall after going in field service for the whole morning with Alan’s family, waiting for my mom to reunite with me, pick us up and take us home.

It was a routine we had down pat, but field service meant formal wear, and thus, my reminder.

Alan rocked it though. His tall stature only added to the elegance of his outfit, his black wavy hair perfectly framed his face and his dark brown rimmed glasses gave him not only an air of intelligence but one of melancholy and mystery as well. One look at him and his savant-like skill with his fingers and you’d instantly want to know more about him.

After all, if there were ever a man who I could see myself falling for, it would be Alan.

[hailsantabook]

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