The church became quiet as the organist played. I kept glancing up at Lucas as he sat in the middle of the choir section. He was wearing a purple robe that the choir wears for Sunday services. He appeared nervous. He kept wiping his hands on his robe as if they were wet with sweat, and he bounced his legs nervously. I’d been observing him for several years, and I’d never seen him so agitated.
The organist stopped playing and Reverend Sparks came onstage and stood before the altar. Everyone stood, and he said an opening prayer. After a chorus of “Amen,” everyone took their seat and waited for him to continue.
“As a preacher,” he began, “It is my duty to administer the word of God to everyone. Sometimes we get so caught up in the things that we think should be, that we forget about the things that ought to be.” He held his Bible high into the air and then waved it in front of him. “Sometimes we forget what the true meaning of love is.”
He turned, looked at Lucas, and nodded his head. Lucas stood and walked to the center of the stage. “My son has asked to sing a song today. It’s not a traditional religious hymn, but a song that has a special meaning to him. He and the choir will now sing Seasons of Love from the play, Rent. He nodded at Lucas, and sat down in his seat.
I leaned forward in my seat and watched as Lucas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned and nodded to someone offstage. A music track began to play, and the choir started to clap their hands softly as they began to sing.
“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?”
Lucas then began to sing.
“In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, a year in the life?”
The congregation stood and started clapping and swaying as he sang with so much emotion. He kept his eyes closed, but he would open them briefly. When he did, they were wet with tears.
By the time they were singing the last refrain, everyone was applauding. I don’t think a song had ever moved me so much. When I sat down, I had to wipe a few tears from my eyes.
My mother looked at me, leaned over and whispered in my ear, “That was amazing.” I looked at her and smiled.
When I looked back at the stage, Reverend Sparks was embracing Lucas. Lucas made his way back to his seat, looked down at me and smiled. I gave him a thumbs up to show him that I enjoyed what he had sung. His face reddened as he nodded his head.
A hush came over the congregation as Reverend Sparks stood behind the podium. He looked out over the assemblage before speaking. “How do you measure the year in a life?” He peered at us as if he was waiting for us to answer.
“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,” he said softly. “How do you spend them?” He began to preach his usual morning service about love. I sat back expecting him to go on and on about loving your fellow man and treating everyone with respect. My eyes were almost closed when I heard him say,
“How about love?” he asked. “And who defines love? What is the measure of love? How does God measure love? Does he look into our hearts and measure love based on the traditional values that we have defined as a society?”
I sat forward and listened to his words. “Is loving God and hating your neighbor because of his race a true measure of love? Is hating a man because he is gay or a woman because she is a lesbian a true measure of love?”
I looked behind Reverend Sparks at Lucas. He was sitting listening attentively to his father. Reverend Sparks stepped down from the podium and walked to the center of the stage.
“Is the true measure of loving based upon what is in your heart? Does it matter if you love a man or a woman, if it is love?” He paused and looked around the congregation. “Look around you,” he said softly. “There are people here from all walks of life. Some are black, some are white. Some are Asian and some are African.” I watched as people looked around the church at one another.
“Some are gay and some are lesbians. Some are transgendered.” Many people looked over at Britany Elders who used to be Brian Elders. He had joined our church last year after being ostracized from the church he had attended when he decided to live his life as a woman. I had always tried to avoid him because I found it weird. Today I looked back at her with a different feeling.
“I want each of you to stand and hug five people around you,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. Everyone rose to their feet and began to hug those nearest them. My mother hugged me first, whispering in my ear that she loved me.
“I love you too, Mom,” I whispered back. I pulled away before she could see the tears in my eyes. I hugged more people before I made my way over to Britany. Tears were flowing down her face, and her mascara was running as people surrounded her. She smiled and opened her arms when she saw me standing before her. She thanked me politely as I gave her a hug.
As I made my way back to my seat, Lucas was standing in the aisle hugging my mother. When I approached him, he gave me a hug. I held him tightly. After admiring him for so many years from afar, I cherished the embrace he was giving me. After several seconds, he pulled away. “Thanks, Woody,” he smiled and then walked over to an elderly lady and hugged her.
This went on for about ten minutes before everyone returned to their seats. Reverend Sparks was beaming down at us when we finished. He continued to preach about living our lives five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. He even talked about gay couples and gay marriage.
I regretted who I was because I was gay. My knowledge of the gay world was negative. All my life I’d heard my classmates talking about fags and queers. They made it sound filthy and disgusting. Even when I surfed through the porn sites admiring other young men, I felt as if I was doing something perverted.
The sermon this morning made me feel like a different person. For the first time in my life someone had talked about gay people loving one another. Reverend Sparks talked about it like it was something wonderful and special.
I looked up at him with tears in my eyes when he closed his sermon by saying, “Remember, in the seasons of love, it’s not who you love, but the measure of your love.”
As we stood and joined the choir in a hymn, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Why did Reverend Sparks pick this day to talk about gay love? I wondered what he would think about me if I told him how much his message had meant to me, and how much it had transformed my thinking about myself.
I looked over at my mother as she sang. How would she react if I told her what was in my heart? Would she still love me? She seemed moved by the reverend’s sermon, but would it be different if she knew that one of her own children was gay.
It didn’t take me long to find out that answer. On the way home she remarked, “Wasn’t that a wonderful sermon?” I looked over at her and nodded. “I don’t have a problem with gay people,” she said,” but as a mother, I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that.” I pressed my head to the car window and stared out at houses as we drove home.
So much for the measure of love.
When we got home, Mom said it would be about an hour before we would eat. Jon and Connor were in the bedroom, but they headed to the basement as soon as I walked in.
I went over to my computer and turned it on. I wanted to see if Indyboi had left me a message.
There wasn’t one from him, but Bidad38 had left me a message:
Bidad36: ill be on later if i can get away
I really wasn’t interested in this Bidad36. It was fun last night when Indyboi wasn’t on, but I really had no desire to continue watching him. I just wanted to chat with someone my age; I didn’t realize when I started that older guys might want to chat with me too.
I left the chat room without answering his message. I decided to go to my regular site to see if any new guys had posted. There were a few that were hot. One guy looked to be about twenty. He was wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots.
There was something that had been bothering me for over a year. How would Jon react if he did find out I am gay? He’s my brother, so I don’t think he’d physically hurt me. But I don’t know if it’s something he’d keep quiet. I know he’d tell Connor and Ross. They would tell someone else. Everyone they know is athletic and muscular. I’d been around locker rooms enough to know what guys talk about. To them, weak guys who don’t measure up to their standards are fags. Jon has even started to let the word drop occasionally when I’m around. He’s never come right out and called me one, but sometimes I think he suspects it.
I’m not sure how he would react if someone asked him if his brother was gay. Sometimes I think he would join in on their cruel bantering. Overnight, I would go from being ‘Runt’ to ‘Fag.’ I do know one thing, however. I’d be less of a human being in his eyes than I am right now. It’s not like I’d care, anyway. He’s never really been much of a brother. Truthfully, I can’t wait until he goes away to college, and I don’t have to share a room with him anymore.
I was looking at the screen when I heard people coming up the stairs. Just as I shut down the site I’d been watching, Jon and Connor entered.
Jon started laughing. “I know you were looking at porn!” He turned and gave Connor a playful shove.
“I was not!” I shouted as I sat down in my chair.
He gave Connor a mischievous grin. “Let’s go see.” I screamed when Jon came running at me.
Jon started laughing and looked over at Connor. “Let’s pants him!”
“Don‘t!” I screamed as I held the top of my shorts while he tried to pull them off me.
He stopped when Connor hollered out, “Jon, stop it! It’s not funny!”
Jon stepped toward him and threw up his hands. “Hey, it’s cool. I was just having a little fun.”
Connor stepped around Jon and stood before me, creating a barrier between me and my brother. “It’s not fun, Jon. It’s bullying.”
“Bullying?” He pointed at me. “It’s not bullying. He’s my brother.”
Connor gave him a disgusted look. “You’re a moron.” He stepped around my brother and headed for the door. “I’m outta here.” He left the room, slamming the door behind him.
My brother started to chase after him. “Hey, wait up!” he shouted. “What did I do? I was just trying to have some fun.”
I was beginning to like and trust the Radford brothers. Before yesterday, I just thought they were egotistical, arrogant athletes. But twice yesterday, Ross stood up to Jon because of me. Now today, Connor did the same thing. I knew we couldn’t be friends. Jon would never allow that. But at least I knew that I may exist in their world.
Mom called me down to lunch about fifteen minutes later. Since she’d been to church, Sunday lunch usually meant something quick. Today it was tuna fish sandwiches and potato salad from the store. Dad complained, but Mom reminded him that if he got up and attended church with her, then we could all eat at Bob Evans after the service. He shut up after that.
Jon wasn’t at the table, so I guess he left with Connor. Glenn and Glenda asked if they could take their plate into the family room to watch a movie on television that they’d been looking at for an hour. Mom at first refused, but after Glenda sat at the table and wiped tears away, she relented and excused them to leave.
Mom, Dad and I were eating quietly until Mom started talking about Reverend Sparks’s sermon. She told Dad how beautiful Lucas had sung and about the topic of the sermon.
“Gay marriage?” My father scoffed. “He actually said nothing was wrong with it?” He gave my mother a disgusted look. “And you think that’s all right?”
“Well,” she replied meekly. “When he was talking about it, it sounded like it wasn’t so bad.”
He looked at me and rolled his eyes. “You’d believe anything Reverend Sparks said.”
“Now don’t start again,” she warned my father.
“You know I don’t like his style of preaching,” my father’s voice was getting louder. “He’s too… what’s the word?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what it is, but he doesn’t always go by what the Bible says.”
“But…” my mother started to speak but he cut her off.
“He doesn’t see anything wrong with anything,” Dad continued. “He doesn’t think abortion is wrong, and he’s always preaching that lovey dovey crap.” He looked over at me and frowned. “And now he doesn’t see anything wrong with two men having sex with each other.”
“He didn’t say anything about sex,” my mother responded. “He just doesn’t see anything wrong with two people, be they men or women, loving each other.”
He shouted, “Love, sex. It’s all the same.”
My mother looked out into the family room where Glenn and Glenda were watching television. “The twins are going to hear you.”
My father’s face began to redden. He leaned over the table and spoke softly. “And that freak, the one who was a man and now thinks he’s a woman. He shouldn’t even be permitted in the church.”
My mother became angry. She tossed her napkin on the table and rose from the table. “I’m not listening to anymore of your drivel.” She walked over to the sink and started throwing dishes in the sink.
My father rose from his chair, tossed his napkin down and muttered, “Gay marriage!” He then stormed from the room.
So the good feelings I had at church quickly left. Mom’s comment about being glad she didn’t have to worry about having a gay child, and Dad’s homophobic reaction to Reverend Sparks’s sermon left little doubt in my mind that I could ever come out to my parents. At least, not any time soon.
I went up to my room and attempted to work on my homework, but it was hard to concentrate. Things were happening too quickly the past few days. I was always happy looking at pictures on my monitor. Now, I was becoming more aware of my sexuality.
I had admitted to Kate on Friday I was gay. I knew I could trust her, and I did feel proud that I was able to do it. And unless Jeff is as dumb as a rock, which he isn’t, then he had to have realized that our bantering in the mall was sexual. Like he said, a boy doesn’t just call another boy ‘cute.’
Then there are Ross and Lucas. Months ago I would never have been bold enough to just stare at another boy. I may have snuck a glance occasionally, but I would never have let him see me. With Ross, I openly stared. I didn’t even care that he saw me. I practically did the same thing to Lucas in the bathroom of the church. I didn’t care that he noticed me staring into the mirror at him. In fact, I wanted him to notice.
It seemd like it all started with Indyboi. It was like an awakening of my sexuality that had been dormant since I entered puberty. For the first time in my life, I was thinking about sex. I want to have sex with someone. I’m not happy looking at boys on the computer screen. I want to feel a boy in my arms. I want to hold him and kiss him. I don’t know if I’m ready yet for anything more, but I’ll know when the time comes- if it ever does.
I took off my shirt and looked at myself in the mirror. I’m small and thin. No one would want me. Everything is as it always has been- a fantasy. I’ll never know what it’s like to hold someone. Who would want to hold someone like me?
I’m like that little Christmas tree that Charlie Brown tries to decorate each year. No matter how much he adorns it, it still looks pathetic.
That’s me. It’s not easy being a tree.
I went back to my bed and finished an assignment for biology. I had trouble with two of the problems in the book, so I left them blank. Since I had Mr. Dewberry fifth period, I could get Anna or Kate to help me at lunch.
I went downstairs to get an afternoon snack. Mom was still mad at Dad, because she was in their bedroom and he was watching a movie with Glenn and Glenda in the family room. Normally, he would have them leave the room while he watched football. I guess he didn’t want them mad at him too.
I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and was heading back upstairs when he hollered out. “What did you make?”
I went into the family room and showed him the sandwich on the plate. He grabbed it and started laughing. “Mmm,” he said as he took a bite, “This is pretty good.” Of course, the twins had to have one, so I spent the next fifteen minutes making everyone a sandwich. Dad even asked me to make him another. While I was downstairs, I made sure that Jon wasn’t around. I was hoping to get on the computer for a while, and I didn’t want to be interrupted.
When I went back into the family room I asked Dad if he knew where Jon was. He told me that Connor had dropped him off at Debbie’s, and he wouldn’t be home until dinner. I looked at the clock. It was only 4:12. Dinner wouldn’t be until around 6:30; that is unless Mom wasn’t too mad at Dad to make dinner. Usually when they argue, we go out to eat.
I took my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and headed upstairs. After locking the door, I went over to the computer and opened the gay site. Nineteen guys were in the chat room, but I didn’t recognize any of them.
One was Pat18, so I opened his cam. I was expecting someone young, but it turned out to be some old guy. He had a fat belly. I quickly left his room. I then went to the room of Jazzr. I was sure to check his age before I opened his cam. It said he was twenty-six and gay. He was from Chicago and had a pretty nice body. Nineteen guys were watching him, encouraging him.
Suddenly, my name appeared in the chat. It was Indyboi!
Indyboi: hey Elmer!
I looked to see if he was camming, but he wasn’t. I was hoping I could see his body again.
ElmerFudd: hi
Indyboi91: what r u doing?
ElmerFudd: just surfing
My heart started beating when I saw the icon light up that indicated he had turned on his webcam.
Indyboi: surf over to my room
I went to his room. He was naked. The chat started to scroll with their comments. The camera was lower than before, showing off his muscular thighs.
Indyboi91: u still there Elmer?
Other guys began to ask me questions. They wanted to know where I was located and how old I was. I ignored them.
ElmerFudd: I’m still here
Indyboi91: u like what u see?
ElmerFudd: yeah ur hot!
Again, it was hard to keep up with the comments in the room. Most were commenting on Indyboi, but a few were still asking me questions.
Indyboi: turn on ur cam
Oh, no! I wasn’t ready for this, not yet anyway. I couldn't show my body to Indyboi and thirty-one other strangers who were now in the room. The chat was scrolling quickly from the comments of everyone wanting me to get on cam. My hands were shaking when I typed my next entry.
ElmerFudd: I don’t hve a cam
Indyboi91: liar Elmer u got a cam
I was barraged with numerous comments to turn on my cam. I could tell Indyboi was upset. I watched as he stood up and put on a pair of boxer briefs.
Indyboi91: gtg later dudes
He turned off his cam and left the room. I stayed online a few minutes in the hope that he would return, but he didn’t. Everyone’s attention turned to tommi99. I briefly turned on his cam. He appeared to be about forty. I left the room.
I was mad at myself because I didn’t have the nerve to open my camera and let Indyboi see me. I think he left because he was upset with me. He opened his cam just for me to watch him, and he expected me to join him.
Now I was worried that he might not return to the chat room. After everything I had gone through to get a chance to talk to him, I’d blown the first opportunity to cam with him.
I opened my desk drawer, took out my webcam and plugged it into the port, and turned it on. I was amazed how good my body looked on the screen.
I wanted to watch Indyboi. I wanted him to watch me. The next time he asks me, I’ll turn on my cam.
Maybe.