That buzz grew louder, the sound almost painful. Momma’s mouth fell open, and her hand flew to her chest. Daddy’s nostrils flared, and his eyes bulged.
The pastor shook his head, his expression sad. “Oh, Tommy, now I understand better. They’ve brainwashed you, son, so you think that what you’re doing is all right. But it isn’t, I’m afraid. Doesn’t it warn us somewhere about the Devil citing Scripture for his purpose?”
Tommy stared at him with wide eyes. “So if I quote Scripture to show you the Bible isn’t infallible, I’m the Devil, right? But if you do it, suddenly that makes it okay?”
There were low gasps from his relatives, but Tommy was beyond caring. This was fast turning into a nightmare.
The pastor approached him. “Your parents called me and asked me to be here because they know I can help you.”
“Help me?” Tommy blinked. His thoughts seemed to freeze.
Pastor Cunningham nodded, holding out his left hand, which contained some pamphlets. “There are places for people like you, Tommy. Places where you can be helped back onto the right path.”
Murmurs of approval accompanied his words.
Tommy saw the light. Cold spread from his core to all his extremities. “You’re talkin’ ’bout reparative therapy. Camps where you ‘deprogram’ gays?” He shook his head. “I’ve heard about such places an’ what goes on in ’em. An’youwanna talk aboutbrainwashin’?” He turned to his parents. “Tell me you’re not listenin’ to this, Daddy, Momma?” He couldn’t believe this.
His daddy rose to his feet. “We’re offerin’ you a choice, son, ’cause we love you. Either you do what the pastor says an’ undergo some treatment, or….” He glanced down at Momma on the couch, who nodded. Daddy looked him in the eye and swallowed. “Or we can’t have you under our roof.” He straightened. “You will no longer be a part of this family. Not if you’ve chosen to follow the path of deviancy.”
Tommy’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “You… you can’t mean that.”This isn’t happening. “You say you love me, an’ yet you’d disown me because I’m gay?” Of all the times he’d heard horror stories about parents doing this to their kids, he’d never once imagined his parents being capable of perpetrating such a cruel act.
“Tommy, d’you think I’d ever be able to hold my head up in this town once word got out?” Momma looked stricken. “Why, people might think I condone your… behavior. They’d look at me an’ wonder what I did wrong when I was raisin’ you, for you to turn out this way.”
Oh, this is too much.
“You’re prepared to kick me out because of how people might view your skills as a parent? Or what they might say ’bout you? Momma, can you hear yourself?” He drew in several deep breaths in an effort to calm down. “Momma, Daddy, this is how God made me.” He gestured to his body.
“You blaspemin’ little sack o’ shit!”
Before Tommy knew what was happening, his uncle had launched himself from his armchair and aimed a punch at Tommy’s face. His fist connected with Tommy’s cheek and eye socket. Pain shot through him, exploding in his head, and he dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. His uncle stood over him, fists clenched.
“God didn’t make you no homo, you little bastard!” Uncle Ned’s face was bright red, his teeth bared, spittle flying from his lips. “Your fag friends did that!”
Daddy and the pastor were at his side in an instant, pulling him back.
“No violence, please!” the pastor pleaded.
His grandma and Mary were crying, his cousins standing by his uncle, looking daggers at Tommy. There was so much hate in the room it was clawing at him.
Tommy stared up at them, his cheek on fire. Daddy stood over him, face grave.
“Either you choose to come back to the path of righteousness, or you choose to carry on along the road to damnation,” he intoned. “An’ ifthat’syour choice….” Daddy’s eyes locked on his. “Then don’t come back to this house until you’re prepared to change your ways.”
The room fell silent once more.
Tommy slowly got to his feet. “Then if that’s all you have to say on the subject, I guess I’ll go upstairs an’ pack.” He faced his parents, the bile rising in his throat.
Momma gazed at him, her face pale. “You sure you wanna do that, Tommy? There’s still time to change your mind.” He swallowed hard, and she pressed on. “C’mon, son, you’re a good, God-fearin’ Christian boy, always have been. I know if you look into your heart, you’ll see the path the Lord wants you to follow.”
Aw crap. “But that’s just it, Momma. When I look inside myself, I see who I really am.” He held his head high. “An’ that person is gay.”
She regarded him for a moment and then nodded. “Then you do what you have to, Tommy.” Her face was ashen.
That was it, then.
Tommy stared at his parents for a moment, searching for the words,anywords, that would make sense of it all, but he had nothing. He pulled himself up to his full height, turned around slowly, and walked out of the living room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Once he was standing in the airy hallway, he grasped the newel post and held onto it, bent over, shaking, fighting the urge to throw up. The whole situation had a surreal feel to it, like it was part of some nightmare. Any second now he was going to wake up in his bed, damp with sweat but out of this horrible dream, back in the comfortable, cozy world he’d inhabited since he’d arrived home.
