Date: Thu, 28 Jan 2010 04:21:50 -0500 From: pertinax carrus Subject: Dermot II, Chapter 9 This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. These stories have as their main character a sexually active gay teenager. If this is offensive to you, or if it is illegal in your area, or if you are under age, please leave now. There is a religious element in these stories. If you don't like that, maybe now is a good time to leave. Thanks to Colin for editing. Constructive criticism is welcome on my e-mail at perti@live.com. ____________________________________________________________________ Dermot II Chapter 9, Right and Wrong The next few days seemed to fly by. Dermot's visit to the hospital on Saturday resulted in more teasing from Dr. Rygalski, with the welcome news that he no longer needed his crutch and leg cast. His left leg was now protected with support straps, but he could walk more or less normally. He still had a cast on his right wrist, however. That did not prevent him from making use of the laptop the Lyles had provided, and which he used when taking class notes and tests. Dermot seemed to be taking make-up exams and regular exams every day, sometimes more than one on a given day. He was doing well academically, with Mrs. Mattingly having agreed to an arrangement similar to that worked out with Mr. Carlyle to cover the first semester of the American Literature sequence. Mr. O'Brien continued to regard Dermot with some skepticism, however, and Dermot ran into difficulty on the exam covering the Last Supper. On that exam, Dermot stated that there was no evidence in the Gospels that Jesus intended anything more than a symbolic commemoration of his time with his closest friends. Mr. O'Brien marked that down considerably, and Dermot got a C when that test was handed back on Friday. He felt he had been unjustly graded, and complained to the teacher. "You neglected the evidence from St. John's Gospel," Mr. O'Brien stated. "But St. John does not mention what you call the institution of the Eucharist," Dermot protested. "Look it up in the textbook," the teacher responded. "I see you're one of those Catholic butts." "'Catholic butts?' What's that?" "You run across them all the time. People who will tell you, 'Of course I'm Catholic, but ...' and then go on to tell you which Catholic teachings they don't accept," O'Brien said with distaste. "No, sir, you're mistaken. I'm not a Catholic butt. I'm not Catholic at all," Dermot said, as he returned to his seat, still dissatisfied. At lunch time, he continued to complain about his grade, and Mr. O'Brien's response to his question. "I still say there is nothing relevant to the institution of the Eucharist in John's Gospel," he insisted. "Dermot, you're wrong this time," Lando told him. "It's true there is no mention in the account of the Last Supper, but you're ignoring the evidence in Chapter 6." "Chapter 6! That's way back there. That's not the Last Supper!" "True, but it's relevant to the issue of the Eucharist. That's where Jesus says, 'Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you.'" "Oh," Dermot said, somewhat deflated. "Well, he still could have been speaking symbolically." "When Jesus said that, many of his followers began to leave him. Did he say, 'Hey, wait, guys. I didn't mean that literally?' No, he did not. He let them go. I don't think he would have let them go away if he had not meant what he said," Lando insisted. "But that's impossible. How can a little bit of wheat or cup of wine actually be the body and blood of someone? Besides, with all the communion wafers and cups of wine, that would make Jesus' body about the size of Jupiter or something," Dermot insisted. "I know. There's no way it could be true if we stick to a purely scientific or secular view of reality. But we are not dealing with science here. The Church insists that every Mass is a miracle, and that's not something which is subject to scientific verification. I believe it, not because I can prove it somehow, but because Jesus said it." Dermot sighed. When it came to matters of religion, either you believed or you didn't, and there did not seem to be any use in arguing about it. In the Current Events class, however, Bob Lynch seemed to be more argumentative than ever. Each day, he would challenge the majority of the class, because each day there was some item in the news which evoked responses based on some assessment of right and wrong. And each time, Bob would present an opposing opinion, and insist it was just as valid as the dominant one, as there was no such thing as an objective right or wrong. Morality, he insisted, was not like mathematics. There simply was no objectively correct answer. What was accepted as right was whatever society agreed on, and it could change from time to time, and place to place. Bob defended the reputation of Mayor Richard Daley of Chicago. Not the current one, but his father. After all, he got things done, and the budget balanced, so who cared whether he had a few dead people vote, or used connections with the crime bosses to lean on his opponents? To say 'That's not right!' is meaningless. Dermot took an active part in these classes, but he was unsure of his position on the more abstract issues when Bob raised them. Bob continually insisted that morality was an artificial construct, and practically speaking was whatever the dominant elements in society decided it was. Public opinion decided whether homosexuality was immoral or not. Public opinion decided whether various entertainment figures living together and having children out of wedlock was immoral or not. Public opinion decided whether a congressman having sex with his pages, male or female, was immoral or not. It seemed to Dermot that an awful lot of the discussions about what was moral or immoral had to do with sex, and people got very emotional about that subject. A different view was presented, however, during class on Friday when the discussion again centered on the inclusion of funding for abortions in the proposed health care plan before Congress. Bob again insisted that there was no objective right or wrong involved, but only what the public would accept. He also called the position of the pro-life movement another attempt to regulate people's sex lives. "Now wait a minute," Diane Pedigo objected. "I think we discussed this more than once before. Not everything is a matter of sex. What most of us are concerned about is not whether someone is having sex or not, but about the life of a human being. Why can't you see that this is not about sex at all." "Yeah, I agree," Nate Greenwell stated. That really surprised Dermot, as Nate seldom volunteered anything, and had never disagreed with Bob before. But, against all expectations, he added, "I remember a priest saying once that there were ten commandments, and sex only came in two of them, about adultery and coveting someone else's wife." Nate then clammed up, as though he were embarrassed at having expressed an opinion. Dermot also noted that Nate was not sitting next to Bob the last few classes. To continue the discussion, Dermot contributed, "Bob keeps saying that the dominant opinion of society is sufficient to decide what is right and what is wrong, but this issue of abortion seems to indicate that his position has holes in it. How do we decide what is right when society is seriously divided on something important like this. Bob said earlier that slavery only became wrong when enough people decided it was wrong, but don't forget, we had to have a bloody civil war to settle that issue. Do we have to have another bloodletting whenever there is a serious division in society?" "I hope not," Bob replied. "But that only reinforces my position. Public morality is whatever the people in charge say it is. The North won, so slavery became wrong. Might makes right." That kept the class going until the end of the period. After dinner that Friday, Walt Lyle again called Dermot into the library for an update on his legal affairs. "Following on what you so generously suggested, we have reached agreement with your uncle's court appointed lawyer, Sean O'Keefe. An amount equal to the weekly allotment provided by your uncle for household expenses will be paid to your aunt out of the checking account in your uncle's name. In return, we were told that this account is one of three items at the bank in the name of Stephen M. Barry. There is this checking account, a savings account, and a safe deposit box. The first two do not contain any extraordinary amount of cash, but I will seek a court order giving us access to the safe deposit box." "That sounds promising," Dermot said. "Uncle Steve would most likely squirrel away anything he had that he thought might be questioned. What about the bookie?" "Oh, yes. That was another part of the deal. We have a name and an address, but getting information from him might be a problem. We'll have to see how that goes." "Sounds like progress, even if slow progress," Dermot assessed. "It was a brilliant move on your part to make provision for your aunt and cousin. I think that really impressed the lawyer for Steve and Zach Barry. Of course, he can't say anything, but I get the impression Mr. O'Keefe does not think much of his clients," Walt confided. "Neither do I," Dermot replied. On a totally unrelated matter, Lando noticed that Jason and Emily seemed to have gotten together. Emily came home from that dance on Friday looking very happy indeed. On Saturday, she spent hours on the phone, with the name Jason repeated more than once. And on Monday, Jason grinned and blushed when asked about his date with Lando's sister. "Don't worry," he told the concerned brother, "we haven't done anything." Then he paused, and maliciously added, "Yet." Unfortunately, as far as keeping track of this romance was concerned, Emily had a different lunch period, so she was not around when the boys discussed her and Jason. Sunday, March 28th, was Palm Sunday. Dermot remembered that Palm Sunday was not only the commemoration of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which is where he joined the Religion class, but, of considerably greater importance to him, it was one week before Easter and the end of Lent. Thinking of his own romance, he began dropping hints to Lando about what might happen in a short time. Lando smiled enigmatically, kissed him, but declined to engage in specific plans. While the Lyles were at church that Sunday, Dermot read the Sunday newspaper, knowing something in there would be the topic of discussion in the Current Events class the next day. He got through the national news, and was beginning the local section, when he ran across a short article which caused him to panic. It was only a brief article, but it mentioned that Charles W. Wilhoit, son of local power broker Willard S. Wilhoit, had been arrested for assaulting a teenager and had his attorney's license suspended, but his father was attempting to get the license restored. Then, on the editorial page, there was a column highly critical of the Wilhoits and the effort of the elder Wilhoit to use his influence to obtain special treatment for his son. After reading this, Dermot was so disturbed that he could do nothing but fret and pace until Lando came to pick him up for the weekly Sunday dinner at Whispering Hills Country Club. Lando had not seen the papers as yet, and so could not elaborate on the story. When they arrived at the club, the boys immediately asked Walt Lyle about the story. Dermot was concerned that everyone at school would know that he had been assaulted while hustling, which would not only ruin his reputation, but that of Lando as well. Walt sat the boys on either side of him, and patiently explained the situation. He had read the article and the editorial, and had read both more closely than Dermot. He reminded the boys that he had informed them previously that Wilhoit was attempting to undermine the case against his son. He pointed out that the reporter who wrote the article evidently had little more than the bald record of the arraignment of Chuck Wilhoit and court house rumors about what the elder Wilhoit was up to. Dermot was not named. Neither were the others who were accused with Chuck Wilhoit. An anonymous teenager had been assaulted. Nothing was said about what the teenager was doing, or why he was assaulted. All the editorial was concerned with was the effort of the Wilhoits to pull strings. Walt further noted that the editorial policies of the newspaper heavily favored one of the two major political parties, whereas the Wilhoits were prominent members of the opposing party. The paper had been highly critical of the elder Wilhoit often in the past. This was not, so far at least, something to panic about. Only somewhat reassured, Dermot spent much of Sunday worrying about what he should say or do if the topic were raised in Current Events. Could he persuade Mrs. Martinez to overrule the topic if it were raised? That did not seem likely. So far, no topic had been off the table. Maybe he would skip class. But then he would not know what was said. Could he somehow direct the discussion away from any focus on him if he were there? So many questions, so few answers. Shortly before four o'clock, Lando appeared to ask whether Dermot would be okay for a few hours. He explained that he and Mark would be serving dinner to the homeless at a shelter run by the St. Vincent de Paul Society. They did that on a regular basis, and the rotation brought their time around again. Dermot did not remember that, or what he might have said in reply. He was so distraught that it passed over his head entirely. Twice during the next few hours, he asked someone where Lando was, and twice was told, only to forget again in his anxiety. When Lando got home around seven, Dermot asked where he had been. On Monday, Dermot was still highly nervous about the article. For the first time, he went to school unprepared for his other classes. He had not eaten much, and he had not slept well. Lando was worried about his boyfriend, but did not know how to comfort him. Everyone else was aware of Dermot's deep concern, and cut him some slack when he gave sharp responses to their efforts to encourage him. Dermot had even been impolite to Sandy Lyle, although he apologized later. American History and Jesus in the Gospels went past without leaving a trace on Dermot's consciousness. Even the exchange between Lando and Jason about Emily and the dance washed over him without effect. During his first study hall, he just sat there and stared into the distance. Coach Duvall asked whether he were all right, and he did not even answer. Then eleven o'clock came, and it was time to go to his Current Events class. Dermot clung to the hope that no one would mention the article or the editorial. After all, there were other national and world events which might be discussed. But about half way through the class there it was. And, of all people, it was Diane who raised the issue. "Did anyone else notice the editorial in the paper about a local lawyer and member of the city council trying to pull strings to get his son out of trouble? Doesn't that bring us back to the issue we discussed last week, about Mayor Daley using questionable tactics to accomplish his goals. Is there any such thing as an honest politician?" Only a portion of the class had paid attention to those items in the paper, but most had heard of Willard Wilhoit, and knew something about his string-pulling reputation. There was considerable cynicism when it came to politicians in general, echoing Diane's question about the possibility of an honest one even existing. But that same cynicism was also applied to the news media. By this point in the semester, after analyzing coverage from many sources, the class had little respect for the media. As one student pointed out, the local newspaper was strongly Democratic, and managed to excuse the antics of members of that party, whereas it condemned Wilhoit and others for what seemed to be very similar activities. Not necessarily in this specific case, but in various incidents over the past few years. The Wilhoits were prominent in the Republican Party. There was talk of a double standard, and shaping the news to fit an ideological agenda. This, of course, was a perfect occasion for Bob Lynch to reiterate his mantra that there was no objective right or wrong when it came to moral issues. Whatever the dominant elements in a society decided was what was right, and history bore out his contention. Another student attempted to refute him by bringing up the Holocaust. Surely, everyone could agree that such a thing was morally wrong. No, Bob insisted, pain was an objective fact, and the killing of millions of people was an objective fact, but when it came to passing moral judgements, that was a matter of opinion. No doubt, those who were victims of the Holocaust suffered pain, and no doubt there were millions of them, but whether this was right or wrong depends on one's viewpoint. From the Nazi viewpoint, this was a good thing. That statement shocked most of the class, but Bob insisted that he was only being rational. Once again it was Diane who quite innocently insisted on bringing up the very issues Dermot wanted avoided. She spoke up in an attempt to bring the discussion back to something everyone could relate to. The Holocaust might be too far in the past, like the crusades or the inquisition, for anyone to feel personally involved, but what about things that happened in the lifetime of the students themselves? What about the murder of Matthew Shepherd, only about ten years ago? But again Bob argued that, while the killing and robbery were objective facts, assigning a moral value to those facts was merely subjective opinion. McKinley and Henderson, the two men who killed Shepherd, obviously thought it was right to attack a gay person. Dermot could no longer remain silent. He had been quite pleased while his class mates debated the politics of Mayor Daley or the morality of the Holocaust, as that kept the discussion safely away from him, but when it focused on the murder of a gay person, he became agitated and highly nervous. This was too close to home for him to remain uninvolved, so he began to speak about the very thing he had hoped to avoid. "I can't debate philosophy with Bob," he said. "I don't understand where he's coming from. But it seems to me that some things are right or wrong as a matter of common human experience, and the torture of Matthew Shepherd is a good example of that. Pain, yes, but also the viciousness of the torture has to be considered. I can sure relate to that. You all know when I first came in here I was on crutches and was in pretty bad shape. That was no car accident or something: that was because four guys beat the shit out of me." Mrs. Martinez looked as though she were about to object to the language, but Dermot moved on quickly. "I was not beaten nearly as badly as Matthew Shepherd, as is obvious from the fact that I am here now. And I'm sure those guys who beat me and left me unconscious in a back alley thought they were pretty cool, but I sure as hell don't. It's not just the physical pain Bob talks about, but the attitude which surrounds inflicting pain which has to be considered. When you have a personal run-in with evil, you know it's real, and not just a matter of opinion." That brought a hush to the classroom, but before there was a response, anticlimactically the bell rang bringing the period to a conclusion. As students began to file out of the room, Bob approached Dermot. "I didn't mean anything personal," he said. "Whatever. Ideas have consequences that are just as real as your material facts," Dermot responded, "and I don't want to be around to experience the consequences of your ideas." Bob walked away. Mrs. Martinez came over to Dermot. "Are you all right? You look upset." "I didn't want to talk about that piece in the paper. That was me who got beat up. But I couldn't keep quiet when Bob went on about it being okay from the viewpoint of the attackers of Matthew Shepherd. It was too close to home." "I understand. It was very brave of you to speak up. And you made a point that I hope all the other students think about," Mrs. Martinez said. When Lando came in for home room, he found Dermot actually shaking, he was so wrought up. "Hey, boyfriend, what's wrong?" Lando asked. "I don't know. I mean, I'm really upset, but I don't know whether it's because I'm angry, or because I'm frustrated, or because I'm scared." "Or all three?" "Yeah, all three. Bob is really getting under my skin. I don't give a damn how clever he thinks he is, or how enlightened, or whatever he thinks he is, when he starts supporting violence and just plain inhuman actions, like the Holocaust and killing Matthew Shepherd, there's something wrong." "I know that, and you know that, but convincing Bob may be impossible. We argued about that back before I met you," Lando said. A short time later, as Lando and Dermot entered the cafeteria, they were surprised to find Nate Greenwell seated at the table with Diane and Mike. They navigated towards that table, being careful to avoid going too near Jack and his football cronies this time. "Hi, Nate. You decided to ruin your reputation by sitting with the outcasts?" Lando asked. "Just got tired of Bob," Nate responded laconically. "Yeah, he kind of got my goat today, too," Dermot said. "I guess you noticed." "You did good," Nate complimented him. "Yes, you really did, Dermot," Diane seconded that motion. "Bob kind of gets on everyone's nerves eventually. He likes to be noticed." "Do you think he really believes the stuff he says in class?" Dermot asked. "I don't know. I can't tell what's real and what's just wanting to make a splash. He likes to push people's buttons, get a reaction, you know," Diane said. "I think Bob really believes most of what he says. There for a while, we were kind of close, and we talked some, just the two of us. No reason for him to show off just for me," Nate said. "I agree," Lando contributed. "I was kind of close with him for a while, too. His negative outlook and cynicism eventually got to be too much for me, just like Nathan here." "Not Nathan, Ignatius," Nate responded. "Antioch or Loyola?" Lando asked. "Antioch." "What's that all about?" Dermot wanted to know. "You talking some kind of code or something?" "I just asked Nate whether he was named for St. Ignatius of Antioch or St. Ignatius of Loyola," Lando explained. "Actually, I was named for my uncle, but St. Ignatius of Antioch is my patron saint. My uncle doesn't like the Jesuits much. Says they're always jumping on the latest bandwagon." "Geez, you guys talk about the weirdest things," Dermot sighed. "Can we get back to Bob?" "In a way, we never left that topic. If the Jesuits are always jumping on the latest bandwagon, as Nate says, then they's upholding Bob's point of view. There's no objective right or wrong, just whatever is popular at the moment," Lando replied. "Well, I never heard that even the Jesuits denied the existence of God. That's when I decided Bob was too far out for me," Nate said. "You've known Bob for a while, Lando. Isn't there some way to shoot down his cynical outlook?" Dermot asked. Lando thought it interesting that Dermot objected to a cynical outlook, but decided not to pursue that topic. "Not really," he answered. "Yeah, I tried last semester, but Bob's right about some things. If you leave out God, there really is no compelling reason to adopt one moral position over another. I mean, most folks would think justifying the Holocaust was terrible and inhumane, but Bob would just say that's just their opinion. It's the dominant opinion today because Germany lost World War II, but if they had won, killing Jews and other 'inferior' people, like gays, would be considered a good thing. And the guys who killed Shepard would agree with that. The fact is, you have to have some standard by which to measure things if you're going to say something is right or wrong. For most of us, it's the traditional Judeo-Christian ethical system, which assumes the existence of God who sets an objective standard of morality. Then we can see how close or how far we are from that standard. But, if you throw out God, what are you comparing your actions to, in order to say they're good or bad?" "What about human nature? In that class, I said there were things almost everyone agreed on just because we're human," Dermot argued. "Well, yes, you could argue that way, but why accept human nature as the standard? And anyway someone could come back and deny that there is any such thing as an objective human nature. Human beings do act and believe differently from time to time and place to place. Bob is right about that. Generally speaking, the people who reject God as a standard also reject any objective natural law based on human nature. It's true, most Americans can agree on a lot of things, but that's because we share the common Christian heritage. If you toss that, there really isn't anything to judge by." "In class Dermot said he had experienced evil when he was beaten up. Isn't that some kind of objective evidence?" Diane wanted to know. "Yeah. And I also experienced good when some weird family named Lyle took me in for no known reason," Dermot said, nudging Lando. "Buttering me up is great for my ego," Lando admitted, "but it's not rational argument. Bob would still be able to say that's only your subjective opinion of good and evil." "You sound like Bob," Dermot objected. "What about the common good, then? What about just treating everyone decently?" "Dermot, you know I don't agree with Bob. I'm just trying to show where he's coming from. I argued with him about these things many times. If you toss God, how can you tell what is for the common good, and why should you care anyway? Why treat everyone decently? Why not just focus on what you want?" "Did any of you see the movie The Silence of the Lambs?" Diane asked. "I watched it on DVD last weekend. There is a character who fits what you say perfectly, Lando. He's called Hannibal Lecter. Absolutely brilliant, and totally self-contained." "Sounds good. But how does that fit what we were talking about?" Dermot asks. "Well, it seems Lecter has this little quirk. He likes eating people's hearts. He's a serial killer and a cannibal. Hannibal the cannibal." "Yuck! That's gross!" Mike said. "Yeah. Most people would agree. But he fits the ideology Lando was talking about," Diane pointed out. "Yeah, he does. Bob and I watched that movie together once, when we were close. I had the same reaction as Mike. The guy is played by Anthony Hopkins, and he's brilliant in the roll, but also totally scary. I was disgusted to think such a person might exist, but you know what? Bob thought the character was really cool. He said anyone who was so totally self-contained like that was his hero," Lando said. "That's frightening," Dermot said. "Do you think Bob would do something like that?" "Oh, I doubt it," Lando replied. "But you never know for sure. I'm reminded of Leopold and Loeb." "Okay, I'll bite. Who are Leopold and Loeb?" Dermot asked. "We covered that in history. Oh, yeah, that was before you joined the class, back in the Roaring Twenties. Seems that there were these two guys, smart, from affluent families, everything going for them. They tortured and killed some guy, just to see what it would feel like. Obviously, they weren't as smart as they thought, because they got caught, but that makes you wonder how many don't get caught. In the movie, Lecter is initially in a prison for the criminally insane. He's a total sociopath. He got caught, too, but he eventually escapes. Bob said he's only following his own ideas of what is good, and claims society can refute him only by appealing to brute force, in other words, ganging up on him and overpowering him and putting him in jail." "But that's only just. We must consider what is best for the common good, like not harming anyone," Dermot said. "Again, Bob would say all an individual, especially a highly intelligent individual, must do is satisfy his own needs and desires. In other words, be totally fulfilled. For Lecter, that means eating other people's hearts. Why should he be concerned about anyone else? And as far as justice, there is no such thing. There is only the more powerful imposing their wills on the less powerful. Might makes right," Lando insisted. "I'm really surprised at you, Lando," Diane said. "You sound just like Bob." "No. You missed what I said a few minutes ago. I believe in God and the teachings of the Church, but Bob doesn't. He is right, you know, when he says that, from a purely rational point of view there is no way to arrive at a system of morality on any basis except consensus or might. That supports my view, which is that human reason alone is insufficient to deal with reality. That's why God gave us revelation. I accept St. Anselm's position that you need a firm starting point even to make sense of reason, and that starting point is faith. Credo, ut intelligam I believe in order to understand. Without the light of faith, any system of morality can be defended rationally, so the result is the majority or the more powerful impose their moral values on the minority or less powerful. You can call that unjust, but on what grounds? That's merely a matter of opinion." "Now that is really scary," Dermot said. "Well, boyfriend, you don't have to worry. Like Hannibal, I want your heart, but not to eat it. And you can count on me, because you know what my standard of right and wrong is. My God does not approve of using other people for my own pleasure. But, like you said before, ideas do have consequences."