Uncaged

By Wes Leigh featuring the contributions of Rob the Scribe

 

This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of our readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to contact us at weston.leigh@protonmail.com and robthescribe@protonmail.com.

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Chapter Nineteen

 

It had been a good week.

The last afternoon of camp was called Freefall, because no activities were scheduled and the young people were free to spend it any way they chose. Sleep. Snack on cookies and ice cream. Hike. Swim. Hang out with the new friends they'd made over the course of the week. Anything they chose.

Counselors and chaperones were scattered about the camp to provide limited supervision, which meant keeping watch over the kids swimming in the lake and keeping an eye on the older students, primarily boys and girls who had decided to fall in love in a few short days and consummate their budding love by sneaking in a few kisses.

RJ sat at an outdoor picnic table under a tall pine tree, writing in a notebook.

FALLEN ANGEL -- IN THE NO MAN'S LAND OF EMOTIONS
by RJ McMahon

It was a mild, slightly cloudy evening. One that seemed normal in the fall. The sun gradually disappeared below the horizon and the city lights slowly came to life.

People scurried in the still-busy streets. Others sat in the park or walked around the pond in the middle. The trees here were in the bright colors of the season. Noble and tall, they watched over the park and the surrounding houses. Many an imaginative child had thought the trees were actually watching the buildings.

One of these buildings stood on the south side of the park. A boy sat alone on the roof. The people below didn't know he was there. Only from one of the taller buildings could you make out his silhouette against the gray concrete.

He liked sitting here. He always came here when he wanted to think. The noise of the city seemed far away. The chaos of the constantly moving and changing crowds could not reach him here.

Nobody would miss him down in the apartment. His parents were either still at work or too busy with themselves to notice him. Basically, he loved his parents. He just missed being close to them. He wished for a word of encouragement, a look that told him that he was being noticed. He only got attention when he had done something wrong. An F in math or a letter from school saying he didn't have any homework to show. In those moments, they realized again that they had a son. Then they punished him. He didn't know any other way. Even last week, for his fifteenth birthday, they had been way too busy to hug him or deal with him. Of course, he had received gifts, but nothing that made his heart beat with joy. He had secretly wished for a cake from his mother, but she had to work overtime at the office. There was simply no time left for baking.

He would have liked to have invited friends to his birthday. Only he would not have known whom to invite. There were one or two boys at school with whom he got along well, but he wasn't really friends with them. They spoke occasionally, but it was no more than a few brief words every now and then. Still, he was glad he had that much. The others in school only gave him ridicule and scorn. They made him feel like he didn't belong.

But why wasn't he one of them? Try as he might, he couldn't find an answer to that, no matter how much he thought about it. He would have liked nothing more than to be a part of it. But they didn't want him. He had had to accept it by now. And he made no effort to change that. It was no use anyway.

Day in and day out, he slouched through the dark school corridors. Some teachers told him to stand up straight. He would damage his back with his posture. But most hardly noticed him. Even during the lessons, when he knew an answer and raised his hand, they often overlooked him.

He looked over at the city lights and noticed the life looming below. Down there were people celebrating, mourning, or just doing nothing. They were all there and yet knew nothing about each other. From up here it almost seemed to the boy that there was a pattern. A great connection, a connection between all these points of light. All it would have taken was someone to connect the dots and all of that would have created a stunning picture.

But where was he in this picture? No point of light signaled that he was here. If someone were looking at the lights from a window high above, his light would not be spotted. It was as if he wasn't there at all. He was the unnoticed viewer of the lights. He could see them and admire their beauty, but never be one of them.

In a way, he resembled the trees in the park. You saw people every day. You saw them rushing through the streets, shivering in the winter wind, frolicking in the pond on a warm summer's day. And although the trees were there, visible to everyone, they remained hidden in the dark of unseeing eyes.

As the boy immersed himself in these thoughts, tears rolled down his cheeks. In his heart of hearts, he knew he had no one. No one was there when he needed help. No one lifted him up when he was unsure or comforted him. He knew so many people, so many who were around him day in and day out, and yet he was alone.

He felt it every day. He felt it when he went to school or at dinner with his parents. It was always around him. Most of the time he didn't notice it because he was too distracted to even feel it was there. But on occasions like this, he noticed. It was almost overwhelming.

Today, however, there was something else. A hope. A hope he hadn't felt for far too long. He was aware that the loneliness he was feeling wouldn't last forever. It would fade away, like everything eventually passes. Just as the trees eventually shed their leaves, so he would shed the loneliness too. He would be happy and forget he'd ever felt that way.

He would be an angel living among men. With them, but not one of them. An angel who carries enough love to save the whole world but remains unloved himself. An angel regaining its wings and soaring higher and higher. Towards the light, where there is only love and eternity. Where he finally has the peace he's been missing for so long.

The boy felt like that angel spreading his wings to take to the skies. Relieved and excited at the same time. He could feel himself flying, the air slipping around his wings, striving ever higher towards the light.

He saw the last rays of the setting sun, turning a small dot on the horizon a deep red. And in the park below, it seemed as if the trees were losing their leaves as a sign that they saw him and rejoiced with him as he left his loneliness behind.

He scribbled out the final paragraph and pushed his notebook to one side. Looking up, he saw Roderyk standing nearby, supervising a group of younger kids playing with lawn darts. Their eyes connected. Roderyk smiled and waved. RJ waved back and stood up, closing his notebook and walking slowly over to stand next to Roderyk and watch the other kids playing their game.

Standing as close as possible to Roderyk, RJ felt warm and loved and alive.

Yes, it had been a good week. No. Make that a wonderful week.

͠ ͠ ͠

Pulling up in front of the Riverview Community Church, Roderyk stopped the van and turned off the engine. Exhausted teenagers sat up and looked around, noticing that they were finally back home and parents were waiting for them. Pastor James opened the side door of the van and said, "Well, young people. How was camp?"

Eleven voices tried to answer at once.

Pastor James laughed and pointed at Anthony. "It was your first camp, Anthony. Did you have a good time."

Anthony smiled from ear to ear. "It was the best EVER! I didn't even miss my mom and dad!" Then he saw his parents climbing out of their car and jumped out of the van, running and leaping into his mother's arms.

The teenagers stretched as they climbed out of the van, pulling out suitcases and stinky sleeping bags. Roderyk unlocked the cargo trailer and began passing gear out to waiting hands to be sorted and sent home with its owner. Pastor James helped, standing close to Roderyk the entire time.

Roderyk felt slightly nervous and asked, "Is anything wrong, Pastor James?"

Pastor James shook his head. "Nope. How your first week as a camp chaperone?"

"Sleepless," Roderyk replied, grinning.

"It's always like that. But it's also the best week of the year. For them and for us."

Roderyk nodded, then frowned. "There is one thing I want to discuss with you. When we have a private moment."

"Certainly. Let's get all the luggage sorted out and the young people headed home. Then we can sit in my office and talk."

͠ ͠ ͠

Pastor James invited Roderyk to sit next to him on the couch in the pastor's office. Sitting side by side and turned slightly to face each other, it was a more casual position for them to be in. More comfortable. Less confrontational.

Roderyk wasn't sure where to begin, so he took a deep breath and said, "One of the boys told me he was gay."

Pastor James nodded. He could guess which boy, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Roderyk continued, "He was struggling with anger and depression, so we talked quite a bit, one on one."

"That's one of the reasons for the camp," the pastor said. "The kids seem to open up and deal with things they've been keeping inside, and they will turn to you and Auntie for comfort when they finally open up, sometimes trusting another person with a secret they've never told anyone else."

"That's exactly what happened," Roderyk replied. "Not the part about being gay, but that he was feeling depressed about it, wanting to hurt himself."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I understood how he felt. That I had tried to drown myself in alcohol and drugs when I felt depressed, but they didn't work. I had to face the things that were making me so sad. Face them head on. And fight back."

Pastor James nodded. "Good. How did the boy respond?"

"I think he found hope, because I beat my depression, and he felt he had a friend in me, someone who understood what he was going through and would stand beside him. But, Pastor James, I couldn't tell him that he was wrong for being gay. I know that's the church's official position, but I couldn't crush him by telling him he was a sinner. If that was wrong of me, I'll resign right now and you can put someone else in my place—"

Pastor James held up a hand, stopping Roderyk's ranting. "First of all, if you gave me your resignation, I wouldn't accept it. Secondly, our church doesn't have an official position on being gay. What we do have is an official position that God loves every one of us, as we are, unconditionally. Did you make that clear to the boy?"

Roderyk nodded. "I did."

"Then that's good enough for me."

Roderyk looked down at his hands and fidgeted.

Pastor James asked, "Is there more, Roderyk?"

Roderyk sighed. "Is it so unforgivable?"

"Being gay?"

"Yes."

Pastor James took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. It was amazing how his old eyes watered at the most inconvenient of times, but that was why he kept the handkerchief handy. He thought carefully about Roderyk's question, then patted the young man on the knee and said, "Would you give me until Sunday to answer that question? I don't mean to put you off, but I think it deserves a thorough response."

The two men stood up, and Pastor James shook Roderyk's hand. "You did good, and these young people will remember this week for the rest of their lives. Thank you for going."

Roderyk nodded, hoping he was doing the right thing as far as RJ was concerned.

͠ ͠ ͠

Back at the farmhouse, Auntie checked with Rachel and the other workers to see how the operation had been in her absence while Roderyk and RJ manhandled their suitcases into the house and dropped everything in the living room floor.

While Roderyk sorted dirty clothes into a big pile, RJ jumped up and ran laughing toward the door leading to Roderyk's bedroom. "I get the first bath!" he shouted. "I don't take forever in the bathtub like you," he teased.

Roderyk waved one hand. "Go ahead, but leave some hot water for me."

"I won't!" RJ shouted, laughing as he ran through Roderyk's room and into their bathroom. Obviously, RJ was happy to be home.

Roderyk carried the now empty suitcases into his bedroom and slid them under the bed. The bathroom door was open and he saw RJ's clothes tossed on the floor. Water was running in the bathtub. RJ peeked around the doorframe and said, "Have you unpacked the shampoo yet?"

"Oh. Yes. Here it is." Roderyk tossed a small bag onto his bed and unzipped the top, pulling out shampoo and body wash. He turned around and found a naked RJ standing next to him. RJ grinned and took the toiletries from Roderyk's hand, not trying to hide his naked body in any way. He wasn't erect, but his thin cock was slightly chubbed up. He took his time turning and walking back into the bathroom, deliberately leaving the door open behind him.

Roderyk sat on his bed, stunned. Without thinking about it, he reached down and adjusted his cock, which was suddenly painfully pushing against his leg.

͠ ͠ ͠

Sunday morning, the four of them sat in the same pew. Rachel and Auntie on each end. RJ and Roderyk next to each other, legs pressed together, feeling the heat of touching with only the fabric of their pants between them. Their hands rested in their laps, covering the lumps that would otherwise be obvious.

Every now and then, RJ would move his foot and tap it against Roderyk's, smiling a secretive grin.

Roderyk finally leaned over and whispered, "Behave."

RJ giggled but stopped tapping Roderyk's foot.

Rachel noticed but said nothing. The change in her son after a week at camp was very obvious. He was happy, hopeful, and excited. A totally new son. A son she was happy to see, though her heart questioned the reason for this new giddiness and wondered what it might mean. She could accept it, as long as RJ was happy, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. Apparently Roderyk was giving her boy what he desperately needed, and she hoped it would end well for all of them.

Auntie smiled as she listened to the sermon while keeping one eye on the antics of her two boys. They were both her boys. Though they didn't know it. And she knew exactly what was going on between them, even if they didn't. She'd been around long enough to recognize love when she saw it, whatever form it took. Now the only question was how to protect her boys and give them a chance to enjoy what was growing between them.

Pastor James wiped his face with his handkerchief and looked out at the faces of his congregation. The burden of guiding them seemed especially heavy today, because he recognized the importance of sharing the absolute holiness of God tempered by his absolute loving forgiveness. Somehow, the elderly pastor wanted to make it clear that God loved them just as they were, no matter what they were struggling with in life.

Checking his notes one final time, he began preaching.

"Unforgivable ... that's a word some folks toss out casually, but only when talking about someone else. It's always someone else who is behaving in an unforgivable way.

"Ohhhhh ... not my behavior. My behavior might be wrong, might even be harmful to me and others, but it can be forgiven. It can be overlooked and swept under a run. I can still live my life and stumble and fall every now and then, and it's okay, because I can be forgiven. I'm only human.

"But that behavior ... that thing that other people do that I don't do ... that is unforgivable. Thank the good Lord I'm not that way. That I'm not caught up in something that detestable, abominable, unconscionable. Thank God I'm not unforgivable."

The irony in the pastor's voice was obvious, and several members of the congregation laughed softly.

His voice softened and he allowed sadness to creep in. "Do you know what happens when we begin to believe we're unforgivable? We give up. That's what happens. We throw up our hands and say, `The battle is over. I've lost. I can't win.'

"But is that true? Or is it a lie, whispered in our ear by an enemy who knows the battle is indeed over, and he is the one who has lost. We've won. But somehow, our enemy wants us to believe we're on the losing side, and the only way he can do that is to whisper over and over, `You're unforgivable.' He doesn't do it alone. He enlists our fellow man. He convinces them to join with him in the accusations and the lies. And so we do his despicable work for him, condemning one another and rejecting God's forgiveness."

Pastor James took out his handkerchief and wiped his neck. "There's really only one way to be unforgivable. Y'all know what it is. I've stood up here Sunday after Sunday, telling you about it. Over and over, I've made it clear that God offers forgiveness as an absolutely free gift, no strings attached, no conditions, completely free. And the only way for you to lose that gift is to turn God down. That's the only way to be unforgivable.

"You see, God knows we aren't angels. We can't soar through the skies, above it all. We're stuck here on the ground, stumbling around and falling from time to time, but God wants every one of us to have the wings of an angel. He wants us to realize that in his eyes, we are forgiven, and even while we're walking on this earth, we're also soaring through the sky."

Pastor James paused and looked at Amber and Jasmine, who were holding hands and leaning against each other. Amber was crying softly and Jasmine was comforting her. Auntie had talked briefly with Pastor James before the service, not going into any detail, but letting him know that the twin sisters had had an emotional breakthrough at camp. All the young people had come back from this year's camp elated and excited, but also deeply moved.

Pastor James continued, "You all might be wondering why I chose to speak on this topic today, especially after our youngsters came back from a week on top of the mountain, feeling closer to God than they've ever felt before. Going to camp will do that to you. It makes you feel like one of those angels, flying high above it all. But when you come back down the mountain, you wonder what happened to your angel wings. You start hearing the whispers, `Unforgivable' and feel your wings being slowly bound again."

He stared hard at the twin girls and said, "Don't you dare listen. Spread your wings again, just like you did up on that mountain. Fly up, young people. Shout to the heavens, `I am a child of the King of Kings! I am loved and forgiven! I am NOT unforgivable.' " Pastor James looked at Roderyk and saw the flash of understanding in the young man's eyes.

Pastor James looked directly at Roderyk. "There you have it. That's your answer. To our God, there is no such thing as Unforgivable! He loves you just as you are, unconditionally."

The end of UNCAGED, Chapter Nineteen