Rumble

  School Was Almost Out

  It was early June, the best

  of summer closing in.

  Surely time and lack

  of proximity between

  attackers and victim

  would slow their drive

  and cushion his pain.

  Winter drizzle and spring

  rain had left the hills green

  beneath a warming crown

  of sun. Creeks and lakes

  teemed with hungry trout.

  I’d take Luke fishing, just

  like when we were little.

  I’d make an effort to do that, even

  though I was concentrating

  most of my energy on Hayden.

  But I didn’t mind splitting

  my attention and giving a little

  to my brother. Who knew

  we’d never go fishing again?

  I Shake Off

  The memory, bring myself firmly

  back into the present, and as I

  straighten Luke’s bed, think about

  how I’ve lately been splitting

  my attention between Hayden and

  Alexa. Why does Lex have to be

  so much fun? Why can’t Hayden

  be more fun, more like she used

  to be? When did she get so serious?

  I think it was even before this Judah

  person became such a big presence

  in her life. I’m really starting to hate

  that guy. Can’t wait to meet him.

  That is, if he wants to meet me.

  Judah the Great and Powerful

  “Absolutely” wants me to come

  to a youth ministry meeting, so I can

  “understand the power of God,

  when many gather in his presence.”

  Judah’s so anxious to impress, in fact,

  that it’s three weeks before it can happen.

  Apparently, he had some seminar

  he had to attend back east, followed

  by a visit to his parents. It’s a strange,

  liquidy time—literally and figuratively.

  The sun has disappeared again behind

  a droopy, gray blanket, and a colorless

  shroud has cloaked everyone’s mood.

  Mom returned from her sister’s long

  enough to pack more of her things.

  Dad doesn’t give a damn about that,

  or anything but his latest basketball

  trophy and new/old girlfriend, not

  sure in which order. It was weird,

  but for the minuscule time frame Mom

  and Dad inhabited the same room,

  rather than two people there, it felt

  like there were none, as if each

  negated the other’s presence.

  I suppose at some point they’ll

  have to talk, if only to discuss who

  gets what and who lives where,

  because it’s obvious divorce is imminent.

  I’m so used to hearing them argue

  that the mutual silence was scary as hell.

  Hayden is in a funk, and I’m almost

  positive it’s because of Judah’s absence.

  I’ve done everything I can think of

  to cheer her up, from rubbing her feet

  to suffering chick flicks to promising

  something special for Valentine’s Day,

  with only short-lived success. But

  when I ask what’s wrong, she answers

  with an inarticulate, “Nothing.” I leave

  it there. What else can I do? My instinct

  is to run to Alexa, dump everything

  on her. But I can’t. Not fair to her.

  Not fair to Hayden. For her part,

  Lex has kept her word not to rupture

  the fragile shell I’m tiptoeing across.

  She smiles and says hi if we pass in

  the halls, but nothing more, and her

  smile is the saddest I’ve ever seen.

  Arbitrarily

  The day I finally get to witness

  a youth ministry meeting happens

  to be Friday the thirteenth. Something

  portentous about that, I think.

  Everyone takes their lunch, but I

  seem to have no appetite, other

  than for a good debate with the One

  and Only Judah. His return has,

  in fact, bolstered Hayden’s mood,

  and that makes my own temper

  prickly. We walk hand in hand until

  we reach the media center, where

  she shakes me off like a spider.

  Prickly becomes razor sharp.

  “Does Leviticus forbid holding

  hands? Or do I embarrass you?”

  Her sigh is heavy. It’s just not

  respectful to the Lord, you know?

  “Are you really worried about

  what God thinks? Or is it Judah

  who might be offended by us

  showing a small sign of affection?”

  She huffs, but offers no other denial

  and I follow her into the library

  meeting room, where maybe

  twenty kids have gathered. Some

  I don’t know. Too many I do, and

  if anything should offend God,

  it’s their presence. Hypocrites. Judah

  notices Hayden, comes to greet us.

  He shakes my hand, firming his grip

  as if to prove a point. You must

  be Matthew. Good name. His eyes

  are aquamarine—blue, but barely—

  and they study me earnestly, seeking

  signs of weakness is my best guess.

  Thanks for joining us. Let’s get

  started. Our time together is short.

  He goes to the front and everyone

  nods their heads for the opening

  prayer. I sit in back, observing, and

  it’s soon obvious that motives

  for attending this group vary.

  The Female-to-Male Ratio

  Is three to one,

  and most of the girls

  seem as enamored

  with Judah the Charming

  as Hayden is. Honestly,

  his voice is rich and

  his patterned speech

  is almost hypnotic.

  Brainwashing was his calling.

  Barbara Rossi fidgets,

  but that girl is pure ADHD.

  Jocelyn scribbles

  on a small piece of paper

  balanced on her leg.

  Taking notes, or

  preparing to pass one?

  About half the guys

  are under the preacher’s spell.

  The others, including

  my no-longer-good friend Doug,

  have obvious ulterior motives—

  the girls, whom they study

  like scientific specimens,

  the kind you drool over.

  Prayer over, there’s a quick

  praise song, then Judah introduces

  Matthew 5, otherwise known

  as the Beatitudes.

  In his well-practiced lilt:

  “Blessed are the poor in spirit,

  for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

  Blessed are those who mourn,

  for they will be comforted.

  Blessed are the meek,

  for they will inherit the earth.

  Blessed are those who hunger

  and thirst for righteousness,

  for they will be filled.

  Blessed are the merciful,

  for they will be shown mercy.

  Blessed are the pure in heart,

  for they will see God . . .”

  There’s more, but I quit

  listening there, bemused

  by the way those assembled

  here claim to be disciples

&nbs
p; and yet have no idea

  what their Jesus was trying to say.

  I Sit Listening

  To Saint Judah explain it to them,

  half in awe of his charisma,

  half pissed off at his ridiculous

  spin. My expression must

  give me away, because he

  says, You look confused,

  Matthew. Do you have a question?

  “First, it’s Matt. And second,

  yeah. Well, no. It’s more of

  an observation. You’re talking

  about mercy. Did you know

  that a few of these people right

  here in this room were among

  those whose unmerciful bullying

  drove my little brother to suicide?”

  The room hushes as I level

  my gaze toward Doug, who looks

  away, then at Jocelyn, who doesn’t.

  Judah considers just how to answer.

  I’m sorry about your brother,

  Matt, but you can’t rightly

  blame anyone else for his decision.

  Luke was weak, and—

  Boom! “Excuse me, but what

  would you know about Luke?

  You weren’t there to see the way

  these hearts-overflowing-love

  Christians brutalized him.

  Luke took it as long as he could.”

  Suicide is the ultimate weakness

  of the mind, he argues. Homosexual

  behavior is weakness of the flesh,

  and a sin in the eyes of God.

  The room buzzes again, and heads

  nod agreement. I steady my voice.

  “There was no ‘behavior,’ dude.

  Luke never got that chance. There

  was only the way he was born.

  When a baby’s born, is that a sin?”

  Of course not.

  “When a baby’s born straight?”

  Don’t be ridiculous.

  “So how can it be a sin to be born gay?”

  That Quiets Him

  But not for long.

  Most Christians believe

  homosexuality is a choice.

  “Most scientists say you’re wrong,

  and anyway, who are you to speak

  for ‘most’ Christians? There are

  plenty with open minds, and

  even more who don’t think

  it’s their place to judge.”

  We’re—I’m—not judging

  anyone. Like God, I love

  all sinners but hate the sin . . .

  “Pulled straight from The Big

  Book of Evangelical Truisms.

  The seminary should teach

  how to avoid clichés. Well, let

  me tell you something about

  my brother. Luke was the most

  pure-in-heart person ever put

  on this earth, so if there was

  a God whose word was sincere,

  he and Luke would be partying

  down right now.”

  There’s a Big Addendum

  I’d love to insert

  in this lopsided

  conversation.

  But if I did mention

  how I’m pretty damn

  sure Judah the Holy

  has the hots for my girl,

  said girl would for sure

  disown me completely.

  Already she’s staring

  at me, disbelief in her eyes,

  and not a small amount

  of anger. I back quickly

  away from the black-hearted

  youth minister theme.

  Judah backpedals, too.

  Please don’t think we’re

  unforgiving here, Matthew,

  and if I seemed judgmental,

  I apologize. It’s just, I try to live

  by the tenets of my faith, and

  adhere to the word of God.

  The Bell Rings

  Partially obscuring my reply,

  but I’m pretty sure Judah hears

  it. “You should totally give

  that a try. Blessed are the meek,

  after all.” You blowhard prick.

  I don’t wait for Hayden, who

  I’m sure wants to stay after

  and apologize for her bad taste

  in boys. Tomorrow is Valentine’s

  Day. I’ll probably spend it alone.

  I’m almost to class when footsteps

  pound up behind me. I turn, sure

  it’s Hayden, hungry to argue, or

  maybe Marshall, with Presidents’

  Day weekend party plans. But no.

  Unbelievably, it’s Jocelyn. Did

  you really have to embarrass her

  like that? she snarls. Oh, and by

  the way, Hayden agrees with

  Judah about the gay sex thing.

  “Y’all have interesting conversations,

  but as I mentioned, there was no

  sex involved, only self-awareness.”

  Whatever. Thinking about BJs

  is as good as giving them. Oh,

  here’s another piece of information

  you should know. The only reason

  Hayden’s still with you is because

  of what Luke did. She was going

  to break up with you, but afterward,

  she couldn’t. She felt sorry for you.

  She. Still. Does. Each word is a slap,

  and I’d really like to return every

  one of them with a nonverbal,

  totally physical, in-kind smack.

  But what would that get me? Ten

  seconds of pleasure, followed by

  a little time in lockup, which would

  only make her even happier. “I have

  no clue why hurting me brings you

  such pleasure. Probably because not

  much else does, especially not your

  Big Guy in the Sky, who I seriously

  doubt you believe in yourself.

  I know what you did, Jocelyn,

  and if there’s a hell, I’ll see you there.”

  I Leave Her

  Standing there, stuttering.

  What are you talking about?

  I never did anything.

  Come back here!

  “Fuck off!” I call back

  over my shoulder, amend,

  “Fuck off and repent!”

  Freaking bitch thinks

  I don’t know the role

  she played in the smear

  campaign against Luke?

  It was Vince who first listened

  in on a private conversation

  between Luke and me, then

  shared that information

  with Doug, who passed it on.

  But when Jocelyn heard,

  she felt compelled to tell

  her brother. Cal is also

  a churchgoing sort—why

  wasn’t he at that meeting?

  I would have loved to take

  him on, too. To have accused

  him right there in front

  all those holier-than-thou

  fakers of masterminding

  the plan to drive Luke to suicide.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t the goal,

  but that was the end result.

  I really did think things

  had to get better once school

  ended, but June was a goddamn

  nightmare, especially after

  someone posted those pics.

  Couldn’t prove who—not like

  they bragged—but I knew

  who was behind it.

  Martha keeps telling me

  that forgiveness is the path

  to contentment, but some people

  don’t deserve forgiveness.

  I think I’ve just added Judah

  the Sin Hater to that list.

  I Fake My Way

&nbsp
; Through my afternoon classes.

  Sit in the far back, pretending

  to listen, when my mind whirls

  Jocelyn’s words like fruit in a blender.

  Hayden agrees. Hayden feels sorry.

  The only reason Hayden’s still with

  you. And my favorite: Thinking about

  BJs is as good as giving them.

  She can’t be right about Hayden

  wanting to break up with me,

  can she? We’d had a few blowups,

  but nothing major, and after Luke . . .

  Things did get better. I’m not sure

  how I would have survived the pain

  without her. She propped me up

  at the funeral. Talked me through

  the depression, the immense guilt

  I assigned myself. Now I hear Judah

  You can’t rightly blame anyone else.

  Suicide . . . weakness . . . homosexual behavior . . .

  How long has Hayden been confiding

  secrets to Judah? Was he her confessor

  before what happened? Did he have

  anything to do with her wanting to

  break up with me? Is she ready to do

  that now? Because I won’t let her.

  I sneak my cell from my pocket, text

  carefully, under the desk, so as not to be

  detected using contraband technology

  in class: SORRY IF I EMBARRASSED YOU

  TODAY. FORGIVE MY BOORISH BEHAVIOR?

  CAN I SEE YOU TONIGHT? WE NEED TO TALK.

  Her return text comes late in the day.

  AREN’T YOU SICK OF ASKING FOR

  FORGIVENESS? WE DO NEED TO TALK.

  BUT NOT TONIGHT. GOING OUT WITH

  MY PARENTS FOR MOM’S BIRTHDAY.

  CALL ME TOMORROW. Ominous.

  Tonight, It’s My Own Bed

  Where sleep eludes me,

  dipping in close to tease,

  ducking just out of reach.

  It’s a hard-rhythmed dance,

  syncopated with words.

  H words:

  Hungry

  Heart

  Heaven

  Hayden Hayden Hayden

  S words:

  Sin

  Sinner

  Sorry

  Suicide Suicide Suicide

  M words:

  Mercy

  Merciful

  Meek

  Mourn Mourn Mourn

  B words:

  Blessed

  BJ

  Breakup

  Blame Blame Blame

  The repetitions are the beat

  of a telltale heart.

  The Harder I Reach

  For sleep, the more frantic

  the drumming becomes.

  Snippets of past dialogues