"How long have you been the pastor of this church?"
"Twenty-one glorious years."
"Pastor, what does your church teach about homosexuality?"
"Objection," Angela Moretti says. "I don't see how this testimony furthers his understanding of the plaintiff's character."
"Overruled."
"We believe in the word of God," Pastor Clive says. "We interpret the Bible literally, and there are multiple passages that state marriage is meant to be between a man and a woman, for the purpose of procreation--and many others that directly condemn homosexuality."
"Can you elaborate?"
"Objection!" Angela Moretti stands. "The Bible isn't relevant in a court of law."
"Oh, really?" Wade says. He gestures to the King James Bible the clerk keeps on his desk for swearing in.
Angela Moretti ignores him. "Your Honor, Mr. Lincoln's interpretation of Bible verses is a direct melding of religion and justice--which violates the very principles of our legal system."
"On the contrary, Your Honor, this is entirely relevant to the best interests of the pre-born children, and the sort of home in which they wind up."
"I'll allow the testimony," Judge O'Neill says.
A man in the back of the gallery who's wearing a shirt that says CLOSETS ARE FOR CLOTHES stands up. "Go fuck yourself, Judge!"
O'Neill glances up. "Motion denied," he says drily. "Sheriff, please remove this man from my courtroom." He turns toward Pastor Clive. "As I was saying, you may proceed. But I'll limit you to choosing a single verse as an example. Ms. Moretti is right about one thing: this is a trial, not a Sunday School session."
Pastor Clive calmly opens his Bible and reads aloud. "Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable. And if a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads. I know those are two verses, but they're practically on the same page."
"How would you and your congregation interpret those passages?" Wade asks.
"I don't think it's just me and my congregation," Pastor Clive says. "It's spelled out to anyone who reads it--homosexuality is an abomination. A sin."
"For Pete's sake," Angela Moretti says, "I object. For the hundredth time."
"I will give his testimony the weight it deserves, Counselor," Judge O'Neill says.
Wade turns to Pastor Clive. "I'd like to direct your attention to the pre-born children at the root of this case," he says. "When did you learn about them?"
"Max came to me for counseling, very upset after having a conversation with his ex-wife. Apparently, she is now living a life of sin--"
"Objection!"
"Please strike that from the record," the judge says.
"Max's ex-wife wanted to get custody of these pre-born children so that she could transfer them to her lesbian lover."
"How did you advise Max?" Wade asks.
"I told him that this might be God's way of trying to tell him something. We discussed what sort of family he wanted his children to grow up in--and he said a traditional, good Christian one. When I asked him if he knew anyone like that, he immediately mentioned his brother and sister-in-law."
Liddy, I think and feel a pang in my chest.
What if I suggested we raise the babies together? We could tell Wade, and he could tell the judge, and then all of a sudden the biological father--me--would be added to the equation. Then I wouldn't be giving the babies away; I'd be keeping them for myself.
Except that Wade's made a whole case about me not being ready to be a father.
And Liddy.
Even if she was willing, I couldn't take her away from everything she's got. The money, the home, the security. How could I even come close to measuring up to Reid?
Reid, who's never done anything but help me and who gets, in return, a brother who sleeps with his wife.
Yeah, I'm the perfect father. A real, upstanding role model.
"Reid and Liddy have been praying for children for years," Pastor Clive says. "They'd recently considered adopting through the Snowflakes agency. When Max came to me, I thought that maybe God was offering us a different solution, one that would benefit everyone involved. That perhaps Liddy and Reid were the best parents for these particular pre-born children."
"How did Max react?"
"He was cautiously optimistic." Pastor Clive looks up. "We all were."
"Thank you, Pastor," Wade says, and he sits back down.
Angela Moretti starts talking before she even rises from her chair. "A solution that would benefit everyone involved," she repeats. "Is that what you thought?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't seem like much of a benefit for Zoe, the biological mother of these embryos."
"As much as I understand the need to cater to Ms. Baxter's concerns, what a child needs is far more important," Pastor Clive says.
"So you think that picking nonbiological parents for these embryos is a better choice than picking a parent who has a direct gametic relationship to them."
"What I think matters far less than what God thinks."
"Oh yeah?" Angela asks. "When's the last time you talked to him?"
"Objection," Wade says. "I won't let her mock my witness."
"Sustained . . . watch yourself, Counselor."
"You said you've known Max for half a year, Pastor?"
"Yes."
"And you've never met Zoe Baxter--you've only just seen her in this courtroom, correct?"
"That's right."
"You have no information about them when they were a married couple?"
"No. They were not members of my church at the time."
"I see," Angela says. "But you do know Reid and Liddy Baxter quite well?"
"Yes."
"You had no trouble coming into this court and saying that, in your opinion, they are the preferred custodial couple for these embryos."
"Yes," Pastor Clive says.
"You have a professional relationship with Reid Baxter, too, right?"
"He manages the church's funds."
"He's also one of the biggest contributors to your church, isn't he?"
"Yes. Reid's always been very generous."
"In fact, your church recommends tithing income for its members, doesn't it?"
"Many churches do that . . ."
"Isn't it true that you receive a grand total of about four hundred thousand dollars a year from your friend Reid Baxter annually?"
"That sounds about right."
"And coincidentally, here you are today recommending that he be awarded custody of these embryos, correct?"
"Reid's generosity to the church has nothing to do with my recommendation--"
"Oh, I'll bet," Angela Moretti says. "When you spoke with Max about his ex-wife's request to have custody of the embryos, you were the one who in fact suggested that he consider Reid and Liddy as potential parents, weren't you?"
"I opened his mind to the possibility."
"And you even went a step further, didn't you--by finding him an attorney?"
Pastor Clive nods. "I would have done the same for any member of my congregation . . ."
"In fact, Pastor, you didn't just find Max a lawyer. You found him the biggest hotshot attorney in the United States with a reputation for protecting the rights of the pre-born, right?"
"I can't help it if Max's predicament attracted the attention of someone so prestigious."
"Mr. Lincoln, you stated that the purpose of marriage is to procreate?"
"Yes."
"Does the Bible have anything to say about heterosexual couples who are unable to have children?"
"No."
"What about heterosexual couples too old to have children?"
"No--"
"How about people who remain single? Does the Bible condemn them as unnatural?"
"No."
"Even though, by your own logic, they are not procreating?"
"Plen
ty of other passages in the Bible condemn homosexuality," Pastor Clive says.
"Ah, yes. That lovely bit you read from Leviticus. Are you aware, Mr. Lincoln, that Leviticus is a holiness code that was written over three thousand years ago?"
"Of course I am."
"Do you know that holiness codes had a very specific purpose? That they weren't commandments but prohibitions of behaviors that people of faith would find offensive at a certain time and place? Are you aware, Pastor, that in the case of Leviticus, the code was written for priests in Israel only, and meant to hold them more accountable than priests from other countries, like Greece?"
"It's quite clear what's right and wrong when you read that passage. And you may try to explain it away historically, but it's still morally relevant today."
"Really. Did you know that, in Leviticus, there were many other prohibitions listed? For example, there's one against wild haircuts, did you know that?"
"Well--"
"And one against tattoos." She smiles. "I've got one myself, but I'm not gonna tell you where." The lawyer walks toward Pastor Clive. "Is that a silk tie against a cotton shirt? Did you know that there's another prohibition against wearing garments made of mixed fabric?"
"I fail to see how--"
"And hey, there's another one saying you shouldn't eat pork or shellfish. You like shrimp scampi, Pastor?"
"This isn't--"
"There's another prohibition against getting your fortune told. And how about football? You like football, right? I mean, who doesn't? Well, there's a prohibition against playing with the skin of a pig. Wouldn't you agree, Pastor, that many of those prohibitions are indeed historically outdated?"
"Objection," Wade says. "Counsel is testifying!"
The judge tilts his head. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander, Mr. Preston. Overruled."
"The Bible is many things to many people, but it is not a sex manual, correct?"
"Of course not!"
"Then why on earth would you turn to it for recommendations about appropriate sexual activity?"
Pastor Clive faces the lawyer. "I look to the Bible for everything, Ms. Moretti. Even examples of sexual deviance."
"What does it have to say about butt plugs?"
Wade rises. "Objection!"
"Really, Ms. Moretti?" the judge says, scowling.
"Should we assume then that there might be things not mentioned in the Bible that are still sexually deviant?"
"It's entirely possible," Pastor Clive says. "The Bible is just a general outline."
"But the ones that are mentioned in the Bible as being sexually deviant--that, in your opinion, is God's word? Completely and utterly inviolable?"
"That's right."
Angela Moretti picks a Bible off the defense table that has been littered with Post-it notes. "Are you familiar with Deuteronomy 22:20-21?" she asks. "Could you read this out loud to the court?"
Pastor Clive's voice rings through the room. "If, however, the charge is true and no proof of the girl's virginity can be found, she shall be brought to the door of her father's house and there the men of her town shall stone her to death."
"Thank you, Pastor. Can you explain the passage?"
He purses his lips. "It advocates stoning a woman who isn't a virgin at the time of marriage."
"Is that something you'd advise your flock to do?" Before he can answer, she asks him another question. "How about Mark 10:1-12? Those passages forbid divorce. Do you have any members of your congregation who are divorced? Oh, wait--of course you do. Max Baxter."
"God forgives sinners," Pastor Clive says. "He welcomes them back into His fold."
Angela flips through her Bible again. "How about Mark 12:18-23? If a man dies childless, his widow is ordered by biblical law to have sex with each of his brothers in turn until she bears her deceased husband a male heir. Is that what you tell grieving widows?"
I hate myself for it, but I think of Liddy again.
"Objection!"
"Or Deuteronomy 25:11-12? If two men are fighting and the wife of one of them tries to rescue her husband by grabbing his enemy's genitals, her hand should be cut off and no pity should be shown to her--"
Seriously? I had joined an adult Bible study at Reid's suggestion, but we never read anything as juicy as that.
"Objection!" Wade smacks the table with his open hand.
The judge raises his voice. "Ms. Moretti, I will hold you in contempt if you--"
"Fine. I'll withdraw that last one. But you must admit, Pastor, that not every decree in the Bible makes sense in this day and age."
"Only because you're taking the verses out of historical context--"
"Mr. Lincoln," Angela Moretti says flatly. "You did first."
"There is audio content at this location that is not currently supported for your device. The caption for this content is displayed below."
Where You Are (3:22)
ZOE
For the first five seconds after I wake up, the day is as crisp as a new dollar bill--spotless, full of possibility.
And then I remember.
That there is a lawsuit.
That there are three embryos.
That today, I am testifying.
That for the rest of my life, Vanessa and I will have to jump twice as high and run twice as fast to cover the same ground as a heterosexual couple. Love is never easy, but it seems that, for gay couples, it's an obstacle course.
I feel her arm steal around me from behind. "Stop thinking," she says.
"How do you know I'm thinking?"
Vanessa smiles against my shoulder blade. "Because your eyes are open."
I roll over to face her. "How did you do it? How does anyone ever come out when they're younger? I mean, I can barely handle what's being said about me in that courtroom, and I'm forty-one years old. If I were fourteen, I wouldn't just be in the closet--I'd be gluing myself to its inside wall."
Vanessa rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling. "I would have rather died than come out in high school. Even though I knew, deep down, who I was. There are a million reasons to not come out when you're a teenager--because adolescence is about matching everyone else, not standing out; because you don't know what your parents are going to say; because you're terrified your best friend will think you're making the moves on her--seriously, I've been there." She glances at me. "At my school now, there are five teens who are openly gay and lesbian, and about fifteen more who don't want to realize they're gay and lesbian yet. I can tell them a hundred million times that what they're feeling is perfectly normal, and then they go home and turn on the news and they see that the military won't let gay people serve. They watch another gay marriage referendum bite the dust. One thing kids aren't is stupid."
"How many people have to say there's something wrong with you before you start believing it?" I muse out loud.
"You tell me," Vanessa says. "You're a late bloomer, Zo, but you're just as brave as the rest of us. Gays and lesbians are like cockroaches, I guess. Resilient as all hell."
I laugh. "Clearly that would be Pastor Clive's worst nightmare. Cockroaches have been around since the dinosaurs were walking the earth."
"But then Pastor Clive would have to believe in evolution," Vanessa says.
Thinking of Pastor Clive makes me think about the gauntlet we had to run yesterday to get into court. Last night, Wade Preston had been on the Hannity show. Today there will be twice as much media. Twice as much attention focused on me.
I'm used to it; I'm a performer after all. But there's an enormous difference between an audience that's watching you because they can't wait to see what comes next and an audience that's watching you because they're waiting for you to fail.
Suddenly nothing about Pastor Clive seems funny at all.
I roll onto my side, staring at the buttery light on the wood floor, wondering what would happen if I phoned Angela and told her I had the flu. Hives. The Black Plague.
Vanessa curves he
r body around mine, tangles our ankles together. "Stop thinking," she says again. "You're going to be fine."
One of the hidden costs of a courtroom trial is the amount of time that your real life is entirely interrupted by something you'd much rather keep secret. Maybe you're a little ashamed; maybe you just don't think it's anyone's business. You have to take personal time off work; you have to assume that everything else is on hold and this takes precedence.
In this, a lawsuit is not much different from in vitro.
Because of this--and because Vanessa's taking off just as much time as I am--we decide that we will spend an hour at the high school before we have to go to court for the day. Vanessa can clear her desk and put out whatever fires have sprung up since yesterday; I will meet with Lucy.
Or so we think, until we turn the corner from the school parking lot and find a mob of picketers, holding signs and chanting.
FEAR GOD, NOT GAYS
JUDGMENT IS COMING
NO QUEERS HERE
3 GAY RIGHTS: 1. STDS 2. AIDS 3. HELL
Two cops are standing by, warily watching the protest. Clive Lincoln is standing smack in the middle of this fiasco, wearing yet another white suit--this one double-breasted. "We are here to protect our children," he bellows. "The future of this great country--and those at greatest risk to becoming the prey of homosexuals--homosexuals who work in this very school!"
"Vanessa." I gasp. "What if he outs you?"
"After all this media coverage, I hardly think that's possible," Vanessa says. "Besides, the people I care about already know. The people I don't care about--well, they'll have to just deal with it. They can't fire me because I'm gay." She stands a little taller. "Angela would drool to take that case."
A school bus pulls up, and as the baffled kids stream out of it, the church members yell at them, or shove signs in their faces. One small, delicate boy, wearing a hooded sweatshirt that has been yanked tight around his face, turns bright red when he sees the signs.
Vanessa leans closer to me. "Remember what we were talking about this morning? He's one of the other fifteen."
The boy ducks his head, trying to become invisible.
"I'm going to run interference," Vanessa says. "You okay on your own here?" She doesn't wait to hear my answer but barrels through the crowd--shoving with a linebacker's force until she reaches the boy and carefully steers him through this forcefield of hate. "Why don't you get a life?" Vanessa yells at Pastor Clive.