The Gospel According to Luke

  Up until this weekend, the most momentous occasion of Luke’s life had been his ordination. He had worn a white linen robe, belted at the waist with a strip of brown leather, and sat on a wooden chair he had made himself. The Elders knelt before him and washed his face, hands and feet. You are the body of Christ, they recited. Jesus has no hands on the earth except your hands, and no mouth on earth except your mouth. Being His body, you must express Jesus through all that you are.

  This weekend, Aggie had knelt before him and said My God you have a beautiful cock. She closed her eyes and called out to the heavens Jesus Christ I love the way you fuck me. She washed him all over saying Oh God your body is divine. It was a baptism of sorts. Satan must have been laughing his tail off.

  The dead babies on the Justice for the Unborn website made Luke think about Honey. Seeing her should have been the first thing he’d done, but he didn’t know what to tell her. She wouldn’t accept his personal business line. She would demand to know where he was, and although she was just a child she had been there done that and she would know if he fudged the details. Slept over, she would scoff, oh, right, Mr Sin-free, I suppose you slept in the spare room with your flannelette pyjamas on.

  The thought that Honey had done the things he and Aggie had done made him dizzy. How could any man look at poor, sweet Honey with her big brown eyes like a terrified deer, and feel anything but protective? The father of the baby was not the only one to have done those things to her. Luke had known this all along, but now the knowledge made his hands begin to shake. He imagined Honey lying beneath him naked, her scrawny legs pressed together, her arms crossed over her chest so as not to reveal her little girl breasts, her doe eyes looking up at him. He wanted to cover her with a blanket and bring her good food to eat. But men had looked at Honey like that and found her enticing. Men had driven into her body the way Luke drove into Aggie. Grown men had opened up Honey and dumped their disgusting stuff inside her. She had let them. Maybe even asked them to.

  Luke thought he might throw up. He put his head on the desk and concentrated on breathing until the sensation passed. Resolving to keep his mind free of all but the task at hand, he turned back to the computer.

  There she was: Agatha Grey, all crazy curls and gangly limbs. He skimmed the description of her personal life – mother’s desertion, father’s suicide, broken marriage, friendship with homosexual activist Malcolm Addison. Further down the page there was the photo of Luke and Aggie embracing in the car park, with a hyper-linked caption advising readers to check out the disgraceful double life of Pastor Butler of the Christian Revolution – when he’s not with his abortion advocate girlfriend he’s preaching to your children.

  He scrolled down. There was another photo almost identical in composition to the first. Two cars, side by side in the staff parking area of the clinic. A man and a woman embracing passionately. A date and time stamp in the corner. But the car next to Aggie’s was some kind of four-wheel drive, and the hand tangled up in her hair was not Luke’s. The photo was taken less than a week ago. Luke read the text over and over. Aggie Grey demonstrates her high moral standards by publicly making out with married father of two Dr. Simon Keating. We wonder if Pastor Butler knows how quickly he has been replaced!

  33.

  When Mal opened the door to Aggie on Sunday morning she was crying.

  ‘Pastor Butler?’ he asked, ushering her in.

  Aggie nodded and allowed herself to be pushed into an armchair and fed tea and whole-wheat biscuits. Will rubbed her shoulders and handed her tissues and she cried all the more.

  ‘I’m so happy you guys sorted everything out. You give me faith.’

  Will leant down and whispered in her ear. ‘We got married.’

  ‘Married!’

  ‘Aggie doesn’t want to hear about that right now, darl.’

  ‘Of course I do. Tell me!’

  ‘We were on the balcony of our hotel, drinking tequila and watching the sun set over the desert, and Mal turns to me and says, “It’s about time we got married, don’t you think?” and I said – well, I didn’t say anything, I just squealed in an alarmingly camp way, and then we went out and bought rings and found a crazy old priest who married us in his garden and then had his wife serve us mint tea.’

  ‘They were ninety years old,’ Mal said. ‘I don’t think they realised we were both men. It’s not legal, of course.’

  ‘Oh, bugger legal,’ Aggie said. ‘It’s incredibly romantic. I’m thrilled. You’ll have to let me throw you a wedding party, you can do it all again in my garden.’

  Will kissed her cheek. ‘You’re the best fag-hag-in-law a boy could ask for. I want you to be the mother-influence of our unborn children.’

  ‘Enough with the Queer as Folk audition. What’s that little shit done to you, Ag?’

  Aggie told them and started crying again and could not stop.

  ‘You’re not seeing him again,’ Mal said when she was finished.

  ‘I love him.’

  ‘You’re. Not. Seeing. Him. Again.’ He emphasised each word with a fist to the coffee table. ‘Ever.’

  Will covered Mal’s fist with his hand. ‘She loves him.’

  ‘Even more reason to put a stop to it now. It’ll only get harder, and he’s not going to change. He’s going to keep doing evil shit, and you’re going to keep getting hurt. Your mother would go nuts, Aggie.’

  ‘Fuck her. Where’s she when I need her?’

  ‘She’s off being true to herself. Like you should be.’

  Aggie covered her face with her hands. ‘We had sex. That means something.’

  Malcolm threw his hands up. ‘Oh, give me a break.’

  ‘No, she’s right,’ Will said. ‘The boy is a hottie; if he was a virgin then you can bet it wasn’t through lack of offers. Pathetic or not, Mal, the kid gave Ag the most precious thing he had. Tell me that doesn’t mean something?’

  ‘It means he’s a fucking fruit-loop. Anyone who puts that much importance on sex is seriously warped.’

  ‘I better go home. He’s probably called.’ Aggie stood, ignoring Malcolm’s expression. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She ran out before Mal could tell her why she shouldn’t.

  34.

  By the time Luke had cleaned up all the pieces of the computer monitor and washed and bandaged up his hands, it was after four. He dialled Aggie’s number, and this time she answered straightaway. He hung up without speaking and then smashed the receiver into the desk until it was nothing but a bunch of wires with a few bits of black plastic hanging off here and there. The cut in his right palm split open, and so he had to wash and wrap it again.

  It was time to tell Honey. The door of her cabin was not properly closed; a sliver of light showed from inside. Luke knocked and waited. There was no response. He pushed it open a fraction more, wary of invading her privacy but concerned she may have fallen asleep and left her room unlocked.

  Stepping inside, Luke saw that Honey was indeed sleeping soundly. What he had not anticipated was the fact that she was not alone. Beside her, his chest acting as a pillow for her head was Greg.

  ‘Luke . . .’ Greg reached for him with one hand, then abruptly stopped and turned his attention to the sleeping girl. ‘Honey!’ He half sat, easing her off him by holding her shoulders. ‘Wake up, Honey, you have to –’

  ‘Luke?’ Honey blinked at him. She sat up straight, rubbed her face, blinked again. ‘What happened to you?’

  Luke’s words got stuck in his throat. He coughed and held his aching guts. Greg came towards him, put his arm around his back and led him to Honey’s bed. He sat and allowed Honey to pick up both his arms.

  ‘What happened?’

  Luke turned to Greg who was hovering over them, rubbing his chin and making small panicky noises.

  ‘How could you?’ he managed to say.

  ‘Luke, man, don’t freak out. Everything’s cool here.’

  ‘Don’t freak out.’ Luke laughed, pulling his bandaged hands away from
Honey. ‘Why would I freak out? It’s just fornication, right? Just sex. Everybody’s doing it with everybody. Doesn’t mean anything. Jump from one bed to another within a week. Easy come, easy go, nothing to it.’

  ‘I think something’s wrong,’ Honey said. ‘Maybe we should call someone.’

  ‘Luke?’ Greg crouched in front of him. ‘You look tired, man. I’ll walk you to your room, eh?’

  Luke laughed.

  ‘I don’t know what happened to you this weekend,’ Greg said, ‘but I know you’re strong enough to handle it. We’ll go to your room, and we’ll pray together. Like old times, right? Remember, when I was lost and you’d sit and pray with me for hours, all night sometimes? You said God never gives us something we can’t handle, and I believe that. So whatever’s wrong, we’ll go talk to Jesus and with His help, we’ll sort it out.’

  ‘He and I are not on speaking terms at the moment.’ Luke laughed and laughed. ‘He’s in a bit of a sulk with me, I think.’

  ‘What? Greg, what’s he saying? I can’t understand. I think something’s really wrong.’

  Luke’s laughter had morphed into cackling.

  ‘He needs help, Greg. He’s lost it.’

  Luke turned on Honey, the laughter dying in his throat. ‘I have lost it. How did you know? Can you tell by looking, Honey? Is there some kind of radar that tells you when a man is fallen? Is that how you knew Greg would hop into bed with you?’

  ‘That’s it.’ Greg grabbed Luke’s arm and pulled him to his feet. ‘I’m sure you don’t know what you’re saying, but if you keep saying it, I’m going to lose my temper with you.’

  ‘I know what I’m saying. I’m saying that you are a hypocrite. That you pretend to be saved and as soon as you found a girl willing to spread her legs for you –’

  Greg slammed his fist into Luke’s nose. Luke stumbled backward, hit the back of his knees on the bed and stumbled forward again, right into the path of Greg’s follow-up punch.

  Luke touched his face; it felt squishy and wet. He cackled, howled, choked on blood and mucus. He swung out weakly and his knuckles made contact with Greg’s cheekbone. The wound on his hand reopened, and at the same instant, Greg brought his knee up into his stomach. Luke swung out again, blindly, clumsily and hit something, but the something moved on impact and he fell forward. Opening his eyes, he saw the floorboards flying towards him.

  35.

  Honey was in the kitchen making up an ice pack when she heard banging on the front doors. They kept them locked on Sundays because there were no groups or meetings on, but somebody obviously did not know this. Honey swore under her breath, hurriedly finished packing the ice into the tea towel and then jogged out to tell whoever the hell it was that God was not in the house.

  ‘Honey, hi,’ Aggie said. ‘I heard you’d moved in. How are you?’

  Honey stared. Aggie looked even worse than usual; her face was red and puffy, and her hair was all over the place. She had black bags under her eyes and her lips were all chapped and flaky.

  ‘Okay, if I come in?’

  Honey bit her lip. ‘Um, we’re kind of closed on Sundays.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. I just want to see Luke. Is he in?’

  ‘He’s been with you!’ Honey looked down at the ice pack in her hand. ‘What did you do to him?’

  Tears leaked from Aggie’s eyes. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘You better come through.’

  ‘Shit! Oh, Luke!’ Aggie ran into the room and threw herself to the ground, lifting Luke’s head onto her lap and stroking his bloody face. ‘Oh, sweetie, what happened to you?’

  Luke gurgled, rolled his eyes around, then closed them.

  ‘You did this?’ Aggie asked Greg who sat on Honey’s bed, his head in his hands.

  ‘He was out of control. I had to.’

  ‘You had to knock him unconscious? You had to break his nose?’

  Honey sat beside Greg and took his hand. ‘Leave him alone. It wasn’t his fault.’

  ‘Sweetie? Luke, baby, can you hear me?’ Aggie patted his cheek. ‘I can’t believe what you did to him. Jesus, Greg, it’s Luke.’

  ‘I can’t believe what you did to him,’ Honey said.

  Aggie stopped patting Luke’s face. She stared hard at Honey. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘You screwed him.’

  Aggie opened her mouth. Closed it. Made a dismissive sound through her teeth and returned her attention to Luke. ‘Come on, my love, I’ll take you home.’

  ‘He is home,’ Greg said.

  Aggie ignored him. ‘I’ll get you all cleaned up. Give you a nice bath, tuck you up into bed. Hey, sweetie? Sound good?’

  Luke coughed. A clump of bloody phlegm landed on Aggie’s arm. She just wiped it on her jeans and then used her shirt sleeve to clean around Luke’s mouth. Luke gurgled and coughed and his eyes fluttered open.

  ‘Aggie?’

  ‘I’m here, baby. How’s your nose?’

  ‘It’s . . .’ Luke raised his head off Aggie’s lap and winced. ‘Where’s Greg?’

  Greg cleared his throat. ‘Luke?’

  Luke pushed Aggie’s hands away and sat up, cradling his head. ‘You’re fired.’

  ‘Hey!’ Honey stamped her foot. ‘You can’t fire him! You’re not even the boss, anymore. Kenny’s the boss.’

  ‘Leave it, Honey.’ Greg patted her hand.

  ‘They fired you?’ Aggie asked.

  ‘Just suspended, until an enquiry can be held,’ Greg said.

  ‘The allegations are true. I’m fucked.’

  ‘Luke!’

  ‘Well, I am. Fucked because I got fucked, right?’ He laughed the crazy laugh from before.

  ‘You better get him out of here,’ Honey said to Aggie. ‘Before someone sees him.’

  Aggie nodded. ‘Let me take you home, sweetie.’

  ‘His home is here.’ Greg stood up.

  ‘Yeah, well, I don’t trust you to take care of him, funnily enough.’

  ‘And I should trust you? This is all your fault.’

  Aggie leapt to her feet. She towered over Greg. ‘Is it?’

  Greg did not back down. He looked her right in the eye, even though that meant he had to crane his neck. ‘You should know better.’

  Aggie nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose I should.’ She turned and looked down at Luke. ‘Luke, do you want to come with me now?’ Luke didn’t answer. Aggie put her hands under his arms and dragged him to his feet. ‘I don’t think I’m welcome here,’ she said, as she led Luke out. ‘But I’d appreciate it if one of you would come across and see me tomorrow. Help me work out what to do with him?’

  ‘Sure,’ Honey said. Greg was back on the bed, hiding his face. She stood in the doorway watching until Aggie and Luke had disappeared out of the side gate. Then she locked the door, went to the bathroom, washed her face, brushed her teeth and fixed her hair. When she came out, Greg was crying.

  ‘Stop it.’

  He looked at her through wet fingers. ‘Sorry. Not very manly, is it?’

  Honey held out her hand. ‘Let’s clean you up.’

  She led him to the bathroom, and he sat on the toilet and let her wash his face and hands. There was a bit of blood on the knuckles of his right hand, and when he saw it his eyes filled with tears, but Honey held up her finger like a stern schoolteacher and he pressed his lips together and got himself under control.

  ‘Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking.’ Honey rinsed the face cloth under the hot water tap. ‘Luke has gone crazy because he did the thing he said he’d never do. He didn’t know how much it would change everything. The whole world and everyone in it looks different, and he feels as though he’s just seeing things properly for the first time. He doesn’t like what he sees. He wants to go back to not knowing, but he can’t; that’s his punishment. He has to see the world as it really is forever now.’ She squeezed out the cloth and hung it over the tap. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think you’re really smart. How’d you figure that ou
t?’

  ‘It’s biblical. Eating the fruit of knowledge, and all that. Geez, you’d think I was the bloody pastor.’ Honey took Greg’s hands, pulled him off the toilet and led him back to her bedroom. They lay together on the bed, right back where they had been before Luke interrupted them.

  ‘Since you’re so clever,’ Greg said, ‘maybe you can tell me why I got so angry.’

  ‘Oh, that’s easy. You got angry because your illusions were shattered. He was your role model and you saw that he could fuck up just as badly as the rest of us. You freaked.’

  ‘You’re good at this.’

  ‘So what you’ll probably do next is act out in some way.’

  ‘Really. And how am I going to do that?’

  ‘You’re going to revert to the behaviour he helped you stop.’

  Greg lifted her head with one arm, and rolled on to his side. He looked into her eyes. ‘You’re wrong about that.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’m going to go to my room, and sleep off this pain in my hand. Then I’m going to go and talk to –’

  Honey kissed him. He gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Lightning-quick she leant in and kissed his right ear, then darted back to his lips just as he moved his hand away. He gave a little moan of protest but then took her face between his hands and kissed her hard. It was only when she started unbuttoning his shirt that he pulled away and said ‘No!’

  She lunged for him again and this time she got his shirt all the way off before he pushed her away. ‘Stop, please.’ He moved to the far edge of the bed, grabbing the pillow and placing it on his lap. ‘Just, give me a second.’ He was breathing hard. His eyes were closed and his lips moved in silent prayer.

  Honey lifted her dress over her head and removed her bra. ‘Greg?’

  Greg opened his eyes, moaned and closed them again. ‘Put your clothes back on.’

  ‘I thought you liked me.’