Iris Linley
Dear concerned citizens of El Dorado Springs,
I write this as a public warning, not in hate, only out of a spirit of concern for those who have been misled into believing that their children are being instructed in the ways of God by the Holy Church.
It has come to light that the Holy Church has brought on a new youth pastor for their junior high and high school youth group. Not only is it bad enough that this new youth pastor, our very own Brooke Morrison, is a self-proclaimed homosexual, but it has come to light that he was fired from his last job with children where he worked when he lived in Denver, Colorado. Although his case never was seen by a court or jury, his employer settled with the children’s families for a significant financial settlement.
What reason could they have found to fire Mr. Morrison, you ask? Two boys accused him of demanding sexual favors from them. When they refused, Mr. Morrison assaulted them. Of course, Mr. Morrison wasnot convicted as the situation never went to trial, but it doesn’t take a jury to determine what the truth is.
I see it as my public duty to make sure that parents have the information they need to keep their children safe, both from liberal indoctrination and those who would seek to steal their innocence.
It seems that the youth group at the Holy Church is falling apart at the seams. Their head youth pastor just disclosed this past Sunday that he is stepping down for his own sexual impurity. It is time for this town to demand more from its spiritual leaders and defend our children from those who would move in uninvited and lead them down the path to Hell.
I jabbedmy finger at the first paragraph. I did my best not to yell. I wasn’t entirely successful. “What part of this did you not write in hate?”
She looked at me with terror on her face. She really must have thought I meant to kill her. Her mouth opened and closed, but she wasn’t able to make it form words.
“You might as well have called for people to shoot me as I walk down the street! You never bothered to ask if any of this was true. How long did you wait after you found out about the false accusations in Denver to write this? Did you have it finished before or after you talked to Pastor Bron? Did you run right home after church on Sunday and add the last little section about Donnie? What has he ever done to you?”
She slowly seemed to realize that she wasn’t in any physical danger. She attempted to make her voice soothingand innocent. It came off as scared and weak. “I was only doing my part as a good Christian. We are to protect our children—”
“That is complete bullshit, and you know it!” Her eyes widened again as I cursed. “You hadn’t even gone to church till I came back. You smelled drama, and you came like a dog to lap it up.” Even as I said it, I knew I would look back later and feel guilty for lowering myself to my mother’s standards. “You don’t give a shit about what the truth is or who you hurt. You just wanted to see your damned name in print.” I almost stopped myself, but the words were out before I realized that I had said them. “It’s not my fault your husband was a son of a bitch. And I’m sorry your sons died such horrible deaths, but that doesn’t give you the right to ruin people’s lives!”
At the flash of pain that shot through her eyes, I regretted my words and wished I could take them back. “I’m sorry, I—”
Her pain turned to rage in a heartbeat. “How dare you come in here to my store and yell at me! Who knows what you did or didn’t do in Denver? Your kind shouldn’t be allowed to work with kids anywhere. I don’t regret an iota of what I wrote! People have the right to know that a child-molesting faggot is trying to get at their kids. As for Donnie, he’s always been a nice boy, but he is just as involved as Pastor Bron for you being allowed to be with the kids.”
“What? Are you going to try to dig up dirt on Tyler now?” I wanted to strangle her.
A sneer tore her face. “Tyler, is it? You’re too good to call him Pastor Bron? Or is he your new boyfriend?”
“You’re an evil bitch!” I thought I was going to vomit as I heard my mother’s intonation from my throat.
“Get out of my store. If you know what’s good for you, get out of this town!” Her voice was shaking.
I stormed out of her shop and slammed the door. I glanced back through its glass center, ready to yell one last comment. At the sight of Iris’s head lost in her folded arms on the counter and her massive body convulsing with sobs, I stopped. Shame flooded me. Maybe I deserved what I was getting. I didn’t do what I had been accused of, but surely I couldn’t be so overcome by hate and be like Rose if I truly had a real relationship with God like I claimed I did.
Thirty-Six
Maudrawent to church on Wednesday evening. I couldn’t make myself. I couldn’t face everyone. I didn’t think they would attack at church, but I wasn’t completely sure they wouldn’t. Maybe they would revert back to an Old Testament stoning. Things had actually been better than I thought they would. There had been a few hateful phone calls to Maudra’s house, telling me to leave town, name-calling, a couple of threats, but most people had left well enough alone. Either the town had progressed more than I had given it credit for, or they were all saving up for one massive onslaught.
Jed stayed with me while Maudra went to church. He held my hands and prayed for Donnie as he led one last youth group. I couldn’t pray with him. It didn’t feel right to ask God for favors. I kept asking Him to forgive me for how I had been with Iris the day before and help me not turn into my mother, but I didn’t feel anything. The whole experience was making me question the reality of what I had believed over the past many years. Maybe I was deceiving myself. Maybe I really didn’t have a relationship with God. Maybe He wasn’t okay with me being gay. Maybe that’s why things happened in Denver, why they were happening here, to get me to wake up.
I hated thinking such thoughts. That would mean I would have to choose. Either God or Jed. I couldn’t leave Jed. I wouldn’t know how to survive without him, I wouldn’t want to. What if I needed to leave him to save him? What if letting him love me was condemning him to Hell?
Such thoughts didn’t seem to penetrate Jed as his prayer went from Donnie and the youth, to Pastor Bron and the challenges he faced, to Mandy and Donnie’s unborn baby, to my mother. Most of the time, Jed’s prayers brought me peace. At the moment, all they did was leave me feeling alienated and lonely.
Donnie called as soon as he got home from the youth group. I could hear the sadness in his voice, and I hated my part in it. He said a lot of the kids cried. Even some of the boys. Darwin left in the middle of it; calling his parents in a fit of sobs outside the front doors. In some aspects, I was glad things had happened like they did, at least from my standpoint. It was bad enough the kids were losing Donnie. If I had been there more than a week and they had begun to trust and care about me, it would have been doubly hard on them.
I didn’t sleep well that night, constantly waking up with bad dreams of my mother. I lay in bed, staring at Jed’s face, remembering the first night we met, our first kiss, the first time I’d seen his body, our wedding. Could I really leave all of that if God wanted me to?
Jedwas still sleeping at six when the phone rang. I had been awake for hours. At first I thought it was Sister Heinz calling to make plans with Maudra. Another wave of sadness flowed over me as I realized she wouldn’t be calling.
My first thought when Maudra knocked on the door was that the phone call had been about Rose—she’d had another stoke or fallen down or died.
“That was Mandy, Brooke.” Maudra’s voice was a strained whisper. “It’s Darwin. He’s in the hospital.Better wake Jed. The Durkes ’n’ the Brons are already on their way there.”
Mandy hadn’t given Maudra any details; she had just said something had happened to Darwin and we needed to come soon.
