Date: Thu, 7 Jun 2012 02:57:52 -0700 (PDT) From: Tyler Adams Subject: The Paths We Chose ch 8 Chapter 8 Phil hesitated slightly when he reached my seat in the bus the next morning. Maybe I was feeling good about my upcoming date, maybe I was just tired of being stupid, but at any rate, I still missed his friendship. It made me feel kind of good inside when I quickly lifted my backpack off the seat beside me and his face lit up. "Hey, man, what's up," he asked still standing. "Same old." He seemed nervous as he sat beside me. I wondered if he thought it might be a trap. "You going to the park this afternoon," I asked without looking at him. "Wednesday," he apologized. "I gotta watch the brats." Funny how when you finally do what you should have done all along you end up going overboard. "How's church," I asked him, not knowing why. "I really messed up when I talked about God so much to you. My Youth Pastor told me I have to be more patient and let the Holy Spirit do the work." I didn't answer him. Actually, I had no idea what he was saying or what he thought I should say. "It was so cool having you as a friend, I guess it never crossed my dweeb-brain how much the stuff I was saying was getting under your skin. I'd ask you to forgive me but that's just more religious stuff, so instead of saying that, can I just ask you one question?" When I hesitated, thinking it was gonna be more God stuff, he quickly asked "Can we just be friends again?" "What're ya gonna give me if I say yes?" I think he saw me smiling because he, rather loudly blurted "THIS" as his fist landed firmly on my bicep. "I'll think about it," I answered, rubbing my arm. That afternoon Phil was saving a seat for me on the bus. I walked back to where he was sitting and he moved his foot to the floor in front of him so I could sit down. He held out his fist for me to tap. Meeting his fist with mine was like touching a switch, because the instant I did, it was like we had never been apart. "Dude, at lunch I talked my mom into giving me the day off. You want to try the 360 again?" he asked as he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. We both cracked up. "You are so freakin' messed up" I said as I gave his arm a hard enough punch to make him wince. "Watch your back" was his only retaliation. We made small talk about school and about his bratty brothers until we got to Phil's stop. I really did like Phil, and I spent the rest of the time before my stop wondering why I had wanted to be mad at him in the first place. It was almost like a spell had come over me that day when he had told me about what he thought his God wanted for people's lives. I had believed that the only way to keep from thinking about what Phil was telling me was to get rid of him. I wouldn't let it happen again. He could talk about God if that's what he wanted, but like he said, he only talks about it because it's important to him, and not because he thinks that I have to follow his rule book. Two can play that game. I could also talk to him about what was important to me now; that being my boyfriend. I got home, changed, grabbed a PB&J sandwich and bottle of chocolate milk, and sat on the front steps with my gear to wait for Phil. I was looking forward to actually spending time with him again. I wondered if it would be stupid to talk to him about me and Casey. Maybe I should just pretend that things were like they used to be between us. It was at the park that day that I saw a side of Phil that left me in awe of him. We were carrying on like old times when we heard a blood curdling "Somebody! HELP!" come from the half pipe. Phil was off like a shot. When I caught up to him, he had the bleeding head of a young kid on his lap and his handkerchief pressed to a gash on the side of the boy's head. The kid, who was maybe nine or ten years old, wasn't moving. "Alex," he called to me. "Can you dial 9-1-1? I think this guy's gonna need some help." By the time I was off the phone and back to Phil, he was quietly asking God to help the kid. I guess that it's not so unusual for someone to pray in an emergency even if they don't actually believe in God, but Phil's prayer sounded different. He wasn't panicky, begging for a miracle or pleading for help. It was almost like he thought God must be sitting right next to him and he was just having a normal conversation with him. He was saying stuff like; "Thanks Father for helping this little guy through this trial. Give him strength until help gets here," and "Keep the ambulance drivers safe as they travel," and "Help them find his parents so they can be with him." I think that's when I first started to really respect the fact that Phil wasn't just putting on a show. He actually believed the stuff he talked about. We were kind of quiet as we made our way back to Phil's house for supper. The boy had woken up before the ambulance arrived and the emergency personnel didn't seem to think there was anything to be overly excited about, which I was glad for. Still, seeing Phil like that almost made me want what he had. I had never seen someone be calm in a crisis – especially at my house – and it kind of made me wonder if becoming religious would do that for a person. "Phillip," Mrs. Johnson gasped as we walked into the kitchen. "What on earth happened?" "Relax ma, I was just helping a kid who fell and cut his head." "Thank goodness you're alright. Go take your shirt off and soak in some cold water." Then she spied me. "Alex," she whooped in an even higher pitch as she took one step and wrapped me up in her arms. "It's so good to see your smiling face around here again. I don't think Phillip's smiled one time in the past month. I'm certainly glad you two patched up your differences." I could feel that my face was burning red hot in embarrassment. Phil meanwhile was behind her making faces at me, trying to get me to laugh. I finally gave in to the hug she was offering, and wondered again why I ever tried to ditch Phil. There just weren't any nicer people in my life than the Johnson family. We were doing homework in Phil's bedroom after supper when I decided that it was safe to tell him about my upcoming date with Casey. I didn't even look up when I told him; I just wanted it to sound like "oh yeah, and this is happening on Friday." When I did look up like five seconds later, I could see on Phil's face that that's not how he took it. "Look, Phil," I started. "I think I'm getting how important God is to you, so even though I'm probably not gonna listen, I'd rather have you just tell me what you think God wants me to hear. That way I won't have to worry about you choking on your tongue. I mean, I could get into a little mouth to mouth to save your life, but I know how much you'd hate me for doing it, so just spit it out so the words don't choke you. "I never meant to come across that way to you. I was really messed up in ninth grade, Alex. I almost killed myself drinking and doing drugs. I hated everyone except for one person." He paused for a second, deep in thought. "You promise you'll never tell anyone?" "Tell anyone, what?" "You're like only the fourth or fifth person I ever told this to, but Casey and me... Well..." My eyes must have been wide as saucers. I knew what he was going to tell me, only I didn't believe it. "You and Casey?" "That's why I was so freaked out when he started hitting on you. I don't think he's as bad as he was, but he's the one that got me drunk the first time. ...And he's the one who got me smoking weed. ...And... Well... We used to be boyfriends. When I went to that camp, I was so messed up." Phil wasn't looking at me anymore. Just by the way he was sitting there, his body all hunched over, I could see the pain he must have felt as he thought about what he'd been through. "Alex, don't take anything when if he offers it to you. We went to a party – that's how they get you hooked. There's always someone trolling parties looking for new business and telling you how much better being with your boyfriend's gonna be if you just drop a little pill, or smoke some crystal meth. I was lucky Ed and my mom were willing to do what they did. They could have kicked me out of the house when they found out – I hardly ever came home anyway. I had been tweaking on meth for a couple of days before they took me away. I was so high I almost went insane riding on that bus. Then, when I got to the camp, they found my stash when they searched my bag. Even after I hadn't had a hit of anything for almost six months, all I could think about was doing what I had to do so I could get out of there and get connected again. Then... Alex, that's why I talk about God so much, because if it wasn't for him changing me, I'd still be a druggie." To say I was stunned by Phil's little confession was putting it mildly. He finally looked up at me and smiled a little. "You know how I have to babysit the twin rats on Monday and Wednesday? Well that's to work off all the money I stole from mom and Ed and from my education savings fund just to buy that crap. They pay me five bucks an hour and figure that at six hours a week, I'll just get it paid back before I leave for college." I quickly did the math in my head. Five times six, times fifty-two, times one-and-a-half. Phil watched my eyes get big as I announced to him "That's almost twenty-five hundred dollars." "I could've bought a car with that." "My mom's the one that figured out I was into meth. She did an Internet search on what drugs would make a person do some of the things that I did and came up with speed, coke, and meth. She was like the Nazi police after that. She took me to school, had them checking on me all the time so I couldn't cut class, and then picked me up at the end of the day. Besides taking me to summer school so I could pass for the year, I wasn't allowed to go anywhere that entire summer. She thought she could force me to get better. They had no idea how I managed to do it, because they had my window nailed shut and put an alarm on my bedroom door, but when you're desperate for that stuff you find a way. Casey came by to visit me one day. I don't think they knew he was my boyfriend. We didn't have even one second alone but I managed to slip him a note and fifty bucks and told him to slip the ice into the dryer vent. The vent pipe went through my bedroom closet and I found out I could take it apart and reach the louvers on the outside. "I still remember the look on my mom's face the day after the first time I did it. That stuff turns you into a machine on high speed – you have to be doing something all the time to get rid of the energy. At first I think she thought her plan had worked and I had suddenly become her helpful little boy again. By the time the late news was over and I was taking the dishes out of the cupboards so I could clean the shelves, she knew something was up. "Two weeks later, after I had been up for three days straight and had just managed to get another delivery is when they came and took me away. I have to pay my own way through college now because they had to remortgage their house to pay for camp." "I can't believe you were ever like that," I told him trying hard to imagine what he must have been like. Then without thinking what I was opening the door to, I asked. "If all you ever thought about was getting out so you could get more drugs, why'd you turn to religion? That doesn't even make sense." "There was this guy there that everyone stayed away from. He was like crazy, and we used to talk about how we thought he was gonna take some hostages some day and break out. We even talked about who he would take with him. As much as we all wanted out of there, none of us wanted to be the one. He was really nasty. Then one day when we had out group session, he told us about some letters his grandma kept sending to him. He used to call her Jesus' thorn, because she was such a pain in his butt. No one wanted to say anything, but everyone could see he was different. At first we kind of figured the higher ups had told him he'd better get his act together or else he was gonna see what the inside of a real prison looked like. They told us that all the time, to try and get us to put some effort into trying to change bad habits and stuff. "Anyway, that's what we all figured happened, but we couldn't figure out why he was happy and always smiling if that's what they told him. Over night, he went from being someone who was always giving you nasty looks, to someone who was slapping you on the back and making jokes and laughing about everything. Well he put his arm around my shoulder one day and told me he wanted to talk to me in private as soon as I was done eating supper that night. "Dude, I was so scared that I was gonna be the one. I even told Tommy Rogers that if I wasn't back in like half an hour, he should rat us out. I could hardly believe it when he started telling me about these letters his grandma had sent him telling him what she thought was the only way he could ever hope to change. "I kind of know how you must feel when I talk about God all the time, because that's exactly how I used to feel. I had no interest in what he was telling me but I didn't want to tick him off, so I just sat there and pretended like I was listening." Suddenly dreading where this conversation was going, I and asked him if he remembered the formula for figuring out the length of the opposite side of a right triangle. Phil looked kind of disappointed that he didn't get to tell me his favorite part, but I didn't need him telling me about the part that I figured was coming next. ...at least now I knew why he was so into religion, but since I wasn't as messed up as he was, I didn't really need that kind of help. "Just remember to go soak your toe." I looked at him like he had totally lost it. "What?" "My mom told me this trick so I could remember it: Go soak your toe. Sine of the opposite side equals the hypotenuse, cotangent of the adjacent side equals the hypotenuse, and the tangent of the opposite side equals the adjacent side: SOH , CAH, TOA." "How come they don't tell us useful stuff like that in class?" Phil wasn't one to give up easily. After I finished the equation that had prompted my question, he picked up right where I had interrupted him. "Look, Alex, I'm sorry but I can't just stop there. Please," he almost begged me, "Just let me say this, and then you can tell me to put it where the sun doesn't shine when I'm finished. Please, man..." Phil looked almost like he was fighting tears. I looked at him for a minute, and then he clinched it with, "I guess I just need to feel like someone gives a rip about what I went through. It was the worst time in my life." "Dude, don't cry about it. If it's that important to you, then go ahead. I mean it's not like I have to become religious just because you're telling me this." I know it must have sounded a little rude the way I said it, but I just wanted him to know one more time where I stood. He began with another apology. "I don't know why this is so important to me. It's just that sometimes I feel so stupid for making some of the choices I made in the past. "When I finally decided to try what the guy had told me he had done, it was like I was giving up everything. ...only it was like everything was suddenly different and I wanted to change. You know, like I suddenly didn't want to be the way I was anymore. It was almost weird, because the next couple of days, I couldn't stop smiling for anything. That's why I talk about it so much. Becoming a Christian changed my whole life. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. That's the real reason I want to tell everyone. I want them to experience what I did." "And that's when he made you straight?" I asked still a bit confused about the mixed signals I had gotten from him in the past. I looked at the floor and continued. "You know how you said when you were at that camp, you spent your time thinking about when you get out so you could get high again? Well I think about guys all the time. ...Only I don't see having a boyfriend as being the same as doing drugs." Phil shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone's entitled to their opinion." "Don't you see what you're doing" I asked, feeling a little anger building up inside me? "That's why I figured you finding out about Casey would make you not want to hang with me anymore." "Why would that make me not want to hang with you?" "Because you have this way of making a person feel bad when they do things that aren't up to your standards. That's why I figured you'd have to hate me when you found out." "My mom tells me that too. Sorry, man. I'm gonna try so hard to not do that anymore. I'm gonna be praying real hard for God to help me not to talk about him so much." I rolled my eyes. "What," Phil asked not realizing he had just done exactly what he said he was gonna try hard not to do anymore. "Yeah, like he's gonna help you out with that one. ...You got any ice cream?" The kitchen was empty as we sat and ate. "So," I finally ventured, determined to ask him what had been on my mind since he told me God had changed everything. I guess part of me wasn't convinced he was totally straight, and the other part of me was kind of hoping that if he was, then maybe if I ever got desperate, I could try it out and be like everyone one else in the world and like girls. "You never answered me. When you got religion; did you like wake up thinking about girls, or are you still gay?" Phil hesitated and picked in his ice cream with his spoon before answering. "I'm not gay, Alex. And I never was. ...not really" He didn't even look at me when he said it so I knew he wasn't being honest. "Dude, you like just told me you were." "I said I did some stuff with Casey, but that doesn't mean anything. I was just confused about some stuff." "Not!" I impatiently interrupted. Since Casey had introduced me to the little skill he said every gay guy is born with. I'd been watching Phil's eyes whenever I was with him, and if he thought he was just confused back then, I say he still is. It might have seemed at first like I was changing the subject, but I had a little plan up my sleeve. "You see Ryan Greiner's tat?" I asked him. He was in our homeroom because he had flunked a year, and had just turned eighteen. I knew Phil had gym class with him, so what Ryan bragged his girlfriend had given him as a present would have been visible to Phil in the locker room. Phil's face instantly turned crimson, and I knew that he had seen it. While I hadn't actually gotten a look myself, I had heard about it, and it wasn't in a place you could see while he was fully dressed. "If God made you `not gay' why were you looking at a guy's butt?" "Yeah, like not everyone in the locker room noticed it." "Don't take this the wrong way, but I see your checking guys out all the time. Every time that skinny guy with the long hair at the park skates by you, you're takin' in the sight. How can you say you're not gay?" I had him now. There was no way he could deny what I said without lying, which I know to be a fact is a sin. "I'm not saying I don't get tempted to look at guys sometimes. I know I shouldn't, but guys like Ryan... I guess sometimes I have to pray extra hard about that stuff." "Like that makes a lot of sense. What makes you say God made you straight if you have to pray for him to keep you from staring at guys?" "I guess I'm still working that one out in my mind. My step-dad explained it to me. He said everyone is born either male or female. Then he said, `just like some guys are into sports, and some are into dancing, some guys are attracted to girls, and some are for whatever reason attracted to guys.' He told me that if I wanted God's blessing in my life there were some things that I was just gonna have to do even if it was hard. God's natural order of things is for a guy to marry a girl and have a family. According to the bible, guys get two choices; either they marry a girl or stay single. It's a choice you have to make. Even if you prefer one thing, you have to choose to do what God wants." I must have shown on my face how ridiculous I thought his explanation was because he took another stab at explaining his, to me, whacky beliefs. "In other words" he continued, "I used to think that because I was attracted to guys I must be gay. But Ed said I was just looking at that through my own messed up mind, and that in time, if I learned about what God wants people to do, I could find ways to not let my liking guys trick me into thinking I was gay. It's sorta like when I want to choke my brother Sammy, it doesn't make me a murderer just because I want to do it." By now I was seriously beginning to wonder about Phil's sanity, and stood there with one eye squinted shut and the eyebrow over the other eye scrunched up. Unfortunately for me, instead of giving up, he tried to explain his theology to me again. I'm not totally sure why I just sat there and listened to him, but I'm sure the thought of walking away again and having no one to hang out with had something to do with it. When he was finished talking, I just kind of nodded my head, even though I didn't really agree with what I thought he said. I wasn't buying it, but he obviously was. To my way of thinking, a person can make up any excuse he wants, but if he likes guys, then he's gay. What's to not understand about that? I took my empty bowl to the sink and grabbed my backpack. I was dreading going home, and facing my parents bickering with each other, when Phil's "thanks, Alex" interrupted my thought train. "For?" I questioned him wondering why he would thank me for basically getting in his face about the gay thing. "...Just for listening. Sometimes hearing myself telling someone why I believe what I do, helps me to actually believe it." I wondered if they taught people who go to church some kind of a different language, because that didn't make any more sense to me than some of the other stuff he said. "I can't believe you finally admitted to me that you're gay." "Al-ex, I said..." "I know what you said, but I mean, like, if you don't constantly pray it away, then you like guys, right?" "Alex, I..." "...but just answer yes or no. If you see some jocks walking down the hall next to a cheerleader, you check out the guys before you look at the cheerleader, right?" "You just so don't get what I'm saying do you?" "You're the one that doesn't get what you're saying, dude. When you first talked to me in school, I thought you were just someone who was trying to do some good deed to get a Boy Scout badge or something. I never thought you'd turn out to be someone who knew how lonely it is to never be able to talk to someone about what you're really thinking when you see some hot dude." "...and I'm still not gonna be talking about that." Phil broke in rather forcefully. Seeing the serious look on his face, I decided I'd better drop the subject. "Look... I might mess up sometimes, but I'm not gay, so just drop it, okay? I'm not saying it's wrong for you, but I just don't think that's what God wants for me." I held out my fist as a peace offering. Then as soon as we tapped, I hauled off and slugged him on the shoulder. "That's for not telling me before." I threw my deck on the driveway and headed for home. I felt so free, like everything in my life was suddenly turning up roses, or whatever the expression was that my mom used to use when things went right for her. I was waiting at the curb the next morning when the bus pulled up and stopped. Mrs. Yoder smiled at me as I bounded up the steps and made my way to my seat. I guess my conversation with Phil last night caused had me to relax, and now, knowing that I could actually talk to someone about the `real' me had me psyched. Usually it was Phil who started the morning conversation, but today I couldn't even wait for him to sit down before I was blathering away. "What you told me about Casey yesterday... He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would try and get you into bad stuff, Phil. He has to work a lot and the rest of the time he has to stay home and take care of his mom because his dad bailed. I can't wait for Saturday. We're kind of going on our first real date together," I whispered into his ear. "His mom's got a doctor appointment so we're gonna go somewhere and like spend the whole evening together." I watched Phil's face for his reaction. He looked a little concerned, and then asked me if we used protection. "For?" "You know. What they teach us in health class." My face heated up in an instant when I caught what he was asking. "We... We haven't really done anything like that." Phil didn't say another word about the subject, but he did get me to think ahead a little just in case. Phil started talking about a science project he was working on, and even though I tried several times to change the subject, it was obvious he didn't want to discuss my love life any further.