Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2003 11:53:31 EST
From: Bwstories8@aol.com
Subject: A Gay Christmas Carol

Legal Notice:
The following story may contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts.  
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.  My apologies
to Charles Dickens for raping his wonderful story.  

Don't read this story if:
**You're not 18 or over,     
**If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live,
**Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex.

The author retains copyright to this story.  Placing this story on a
website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's
permission is a violation of that copyright.  Legal action will be taken
against violators.

I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this
chapter, and Art for his additional input on each chapter.
  
E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other `constructive'
comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.
                                                 
              *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

A Gay Christmas Carol - by BW              Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 1 - Snarley's Ghost.               December 2003

Pat Righteous was a pious and honorable man.  He was a religious leader of
some renown and he did his best to ensure the word of God was spread
throughout the land.  He even went as far as to make certain that political
leaders felt the heat from his movement, letting them know that his
Righteous followers would not agree with certain things, which included the
acceptance of homosexuals, granting gays equal rights, or the approval of
non-traditional forms of marriage.  He didn't do this to be mean or
vindictive, or at least that's what he told those who questioned his
motives, but claimed to be merely following the word of God, as written in
the Holy Bible.

It was Christmas Eve, one of the most wonderful times of the year for him,
and he looked forward to giving his Christmas Eve sermon.  As he walked to
the church, because he lived next door in the parsonage, he walked
arm-in-arm with his wife, with his two children on either side of them.
Along the way, many members of the congregation passed along their seasonal
greetings and expressed their admiration for all he had accomplished over
the past year.  Pat gratefully accepted their compliments and Yuletide
wishes, and then he would pass along his own Christmas cheer, and it was a
wonderful time for all.

It wasn't long before Pat was standing before his congregation, as the
choir led them in some of their favorite Christmas carols, and the power of
the Holy Spirit seemed to fill their small cathedral to the rafters.  The
evening went off as planned and Pat's Christmas sermon was a huge success.
The service concluded with the singing of a few more seasonal hymns and
everyone was in a splendid mood as they left this place of worship.  Pat
mad sure he greeted each parishioner as they made their way out, making
personal comments and bestowing his own blessing upon them all.  Once the
final congregant had left, Pat made his way home with his family, ready to
enjoy this special evening with those he loved.  As they sat in their
family room, wonderfully decorated with a Christmas tree, highlighted by a
magnificent Nativity, which was spread beneath its lowest boughs, and there
were many presents stacked neatly on either side of this religious
masterpiece.  They marveled in the love and serenity this time of the year
provided to them all and it was truly one of their most favorite days of
the year.  Soon it was time for them to get some rest, so Mrs. Righteous
and the children went to bed, while Pat stayed behind to put the finishing
touches on his next sermon.

Pat was working alone in his study when the lights began to flicker, making
him wonder what was causing this to happen, but he didn't have long to
ponder this, because suddenly he heard the doorbell ring.  Wondering who
could possibly be visiting at this hour of the evening, he thought possibly
one of his church members had a problem that required his attention.  When
he went to see who was there, he discovered his stoop empty, and there was
not a soul in sight.  He looked about, to see if the person had moved away,
but he could see no one about.  Not only was there no one there, but there
were also no footprints in the light dusting of snow that covered the
ground.  Confused, he went back to his study and began to concentrate on
his work again, but once again the lights began to dim, go out, and then
suddenly come back on.

Pat walked over to look out his window, to see if something similar was
happening at his neighbors' homes, when his doorbell rang again.  Pat
rushed to answer it, hoping to discover who was there or catch the
prankster who thought disturbing him at this hour was amusing.  Once more
there was no one on his doorstep, and once again there were no footprints
to be seen.  Totally bewildered by what was happening, he decided that
possibly it had something to do with the power fluctuations, and he
considered that the sudden surge of power as the electricity was restored
was what might be causing the doorbell to chime.  Thinking he had hit upon
the answer to this dilemma, Pat was about ready to return to his study,
when something else occurred.  He could scarcely believe his eyes, and what
he saw sent chills running up and down his spine, for as he began to turn,
he saw a shadowy figure pass through his closed door.  This shadowy form
began to gain more substance as it emerged in the foyer, until Pat could
finally recognize its form.

"David?  David Snarley?  Is that you?" he asked, shaking slightly as he
beheld this apparition.  It was the ghostly form of his close friend and
right-hand man, who had passed from the world a few years before.  David
appeared to be dressed in the same attire he had been buried in, yet the
garments seemed to be smoldering, as if the garments had been burning and
that fire had only recently been extinguished.

"Yes, Pat.  It is I," the ghost responded, with little emotion.

"But it can't be.  You're dead and there are no such things as ghosts!"
Pat exclaimed, as he rubbed his eyes, thinking his senses must be playing
tricks on him.  When he realized that did nothing to change his vision, he
pinched himself, to see if he were sleeping and only dreaming this unreal
scene.

"Do not deny what you see and you are wrong to say that spirits do not walk
this earth.  Not only are you wrong about that, but you and I were wrong
about many other things we held to be true."  Once again, the specter
responded in a very drool tone, though making sure his meaning was quite
clear.  "I now suffer for the wrongs I have done and I come to spare you
that same fate."

"Suffer?  But you were a holy and God-fearing man.  You were my faithful
assistant for many years, helping me to carry out God's work.  Why would
you be suffering for that?  Since the day you passed from this life, I have
always believed you to be sitting at the right hand of God, reaping your
rewards for a faithful and devoted life."

"That is what I expected as well, but that was only one of my
miscalculations."  The ghost hung his head, appearing to be remorseful.

"But I don't understand," Pat challenged.  "You only preached the word of
God and passed along his messages to the faithful and unbelieving."

"What I passed along was our interpretation of God's word, and I have since
learned that my personal prejudices colored the message I spread and
bastardized the meaning God had intended.  I now pay for my mistakes, and
you will too, if you do not repent and acknowledge the errors of your
ways."  The ghost was now pointing an accusatory finger at Pat, to add
emphasis to his words.

"That can't be.  I am only spreading God's word as it is written."  Pat
said, trembling, though it was uncertain if his quaking was caused by fear
or from indignation at being told he was misguided in his beliefs.

"You will be given a chance to see the error of your ways, a chance I was
not granted.  Tonight you will be visited by three spirits, and these
spirits will show you where and how we went wrong.  If you learn from what
they show you and heed their message, then you might still save yourself
from enduring the fires of hell and the tortures I have faced since my
death.  Do not squander this opportunity, my friend, for it shall not be
offered again."

"Can't you just pass the message along yourself, so I don't have to be
visited by more apparitions?  You were always a good and loyal friend,
David, and I would rather hear this from you."

At that instant there was an unearthly howl, though Snarley never opened
his mouth, but Pat was certain this noise emanated from him.  Pat fell to
his knees; completely consumed by the frigid and haunting sense of despair
the wail had sent coursing throughout his entire body.

"Pat, you must accept these spirits and heed what they say," David's ghost
wailed, "for tonight will be your only chance to learn and repent.  The
first spirit shall appear to you at the stroke of midnight, the second as
the clock chimes one, and the final spirit at two.  Do not expect to see me
again and heed my warnings."  With that said, the ghost of David Snarley
began to drift across the room, and soon it moved effortlessly through the
closed window, without doing any damage.

Pat summoned his courage and followed it to the window, looking out, to see
where it went next.  He was surprised to discover that there were numerous
other spirits floating gracefully about, most likely performing the same
task and his former assistant.  Shaken and unwilling to let his wife or
children know what had happened, or at least what he THOUGHT had happened,
he decided to lie down on the sofa in his study, covering himself
completely with the afghan that had been folded neatly across its back.  It
took quite a few minutes for him to shake off the effects of the past few
minutes, but eventually he began to calm down, and he even fell asleep.

                   *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

A Gay Christmas Carol - by BW                   Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 2 - The first spirit.                   December 2003

Pat was not able to slumber long, for a bright light, which seemed to fill
the entire room, awakened him.  He tried to shield himself from the
blinding glare, but was unable to keep his eyes open for long, when he
heard a child-like voice speak.  "I shall cover the light of truth, so you
might behold me," the voice said, and soon Pat could see the form of a
young girl wearing a helmet.  He could also tell the brilliance was still
trying to escape from beneath the helmet, but at least now he could make
out her features.  As he studied her, he noticed she had snow white hair,
was dressed in a long, flowing white robe, and she appeared to be no more
than eleven or twelve years old.  "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," she
announced.  "Rise and walk with me, for your own welfare."

Fearful, but not courageous enough to disobey the spirit, Pat got up and
followed the girl to the nearest window.  Without hesitation, she opened
the window and held her arm out, before summoning him.  "Take hold of my
hand and come with me," she said, soothingly.

Still uncertain as to why he was being so obedient, Pat took her hand and
together they passed through the window, emerging in a place vaguely
familiar to him.  "Do you know where you are?" she asked him.

"It looks different somehow, but isn't this the house I lived in as a boy?"

"Precisely," she agreed.  "Come have a closer look."  As the moved forward,
walking up to a large window in the front of the house, he peered inside.

"Why, that's me!" Pat exclaimed, somewhat taken aback by seeing himself as
a child.  "I remember this.  It was my most favorite Christmas of all.  It
was the last Christmas before my father died, and I shall always cherish
that time with him.  Look, he's helping me set up the model train he got
me, and it's down in our basement now.  I gave it to my son when he was
about the same age as I was, when I first received it, and I was ten that
Christmas."

"Yes, and you love your son, as your father loved you.  Don't you, Pat?"
She studied him carefully; as he continued to watch his Christmas
extraordinaire, and she could actual read the delight that was registering
on his face.

"Oh, yes.  That and more, and I hope to always be here for him," he added,
wiping a tear from his eye, as he thought about how much he missed his
father.  He turned slightly, so he faced away from the Ghost of Christmas
Past, as he didn't want her to see him weep.  However, when he turned to
look back into the window, the scene had changed, and the boy inside was
now a year older.

"What happened, spirit?  Can't we go back?  I want to see more of that
Christmas and I don't want to be reminded of this one?"  He was not only
sad, but he was also upset that his euphoria had now been replaced by great
sorrow.

"We must remember and accept the good with the bad, Pat, and this is a part
of your life too."  He merely nodded, not able to speak, due to the lump
that had formed in his throat.  Why did she have to remind him of the
loneliness he felt that first Christmas without his father?  Why couldn't
she have let him enjoy the happiness of the one before?  He was still
pondering this, when suddenly he found himself whisked to another place.
This time they were standing outside an unfamiliar home, looking in on
people he did not know.  Not understanding why they were here, he decided
to ask.

"Why did you bring me here?" he wondered.

"I want you to see and experience the love and joy other families share at
this wonderful time of the year," she informed him.  Accepting her answer,
Pat silently gazed through the window and observed a young, blond-haired
teenage boy being doted on and spoiled by his parents.  He watched as the
boy was handed his gifts and eagerly unwrapped them, with all the gusto and
excitement he could muster.

"Oh, mom and dad, I can't believe you bought me this!" the youth exclaimed.

"Well, if you don't want it," his father began, "we could always take it
back and exchange it for something else."  He father tried to keep a
straight face, as he winked at his wife, but it was obvious a smile was
beginning to break through his facade.

"No way!" his son shrieked.  "You now I've wanted this for months and
there's no way you're getting it away from me now."  The boy lunged forward
and wrapped an arm around each of his parents' necks, giving them a mighty
squeeze, before kissing them both on the cheek.  "Thank you, so much, and I
love you both," he added.

"And we love you too, son," his mother responded, and then both of his
parents hugged him back, appreciative of his thoughtful display of
affection.

Pat turned to look at the spirit, to determine if she was watching him or
the images before them, but when he saw her staring through the window, he
turned back to discover they were at yet another place.  This time there
was a young man with ebony hair, seated next a younger girl, who was most
likely his sister, as their parents regaled them with a large quantity of
gifts.  Eagerly the pair ripped open the parcels, so they could discover
what was inside, and when they had learned what treat was contained within;
they thanked their parents for giving them one more item from their lengthy
Christmas list.  Once all the presents had been unwrapped, both the boy and
the girl walked over to their parents and hugged them about the waist,
thanking them and telling them how much they appreciated everything.

Pat's eyes began to fill with tears again, as he witnessed this spectacle,
and he lowered his head to wipe the moisture away with his sleeve.  When he
looked up again, he was back in front of his own home, looking through the
window, at a Christmas four years earlier.

"Oh, Dad," his son squealed, "I can't believe your giving me your model
train."  His ten-year old son was dancing around, overwhelmed with the
significance of this present.

"It was a special gift from my father to me, on the last Christmas we were
together, and I have always cherished it.  Now, I wish to give it to you,
and I hope you will cherish it as much as I have."

"Oh, yes, Dad, I will," his son promised, as he leapt into his father's
arms and squeezed his neck.  "Thank you sooooo much, Dad.  I shall always
love this and some day I hope to be able to pass it on to my son."

Pat stood frozen, watching this scene unfold before his eyes and
remembering how special he felt at that moment.  It was almost as wonderful
as the Christmas he had received that present himself.  Returning his
attention to the spectacle before him, he heard his younger self speak.

"You're not done yet," the younger him told his son, while handing him
three more packages.  Eagerly the young boy accepted the gifts and opened
them, delighted with what he found inside.  "These are new pieces to add to
your set," the younger Pat advised him, "so it will be even better than
before.  I hope we can add something each year and we can both enjoy
watching it grow."

"Thank you, Dad," his son sang out in delight.  "This is the best Christmas
ever!"

Suddenly the scene began to dim and Pat now discovered he was back at the
place they had started.  Together, he and the spirit reentered his house,
but the moment he let go of her hand, she disappeared.  Looking at the
clock, he noticed only five minutes had passed; though it seemed they had
spent hour upon hour walking together.  Feeling weary from this emotional
journey, Pat laid back down.  Within minutes, he was once again asleep.

                   *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

A Gay Christmas Carol - by BW                    Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 3 - The second spirit.                   December 2003

This time Pat was awakened by a deep, throaty voice, which was summoning
him.  "Pat Righteous, come forward and know me better," the voice roared.

Pat got up and staggered into the living room, where a giant of a man,
dressed in a forest green robe and wearing a wreath of holly around his
head, sat lounging in Pat's special chair.  "I am the Ghost of Christmas
Present," he announced, forcefully.  "Touch my robe," he said rising from
the chair.  As soon as Pat did as he was requested, he found himself
standing somewhere else.

"I recognize this place," Pat announced, looking into the face of this new
guide.  "I was here a short time ago, with the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"It may have seemed like a short time ago to you," the spirit responded,
but it was at least a year or more since you stood outside this abode.
Look inside and see what changes have taken place."

When Pat looked in, he could see the blond haired youth he had seen
earlier, only the ghost was correct, and the boy now appeared to be a year
or two older.  This time the presents had already been opened, but there
was no communication between the boy and his parents, and no one looked
happy.  "Spirit, what happened to this family.  When I was here last, they
seemed so happy and so close."

The Ghost of Christmas Present didn't respond, but merely waved his arm,
causing the scene to change.  This time the boy and his parents were in a
heated argument.  "I'm telling you," his father screamed at him, "that I
will not allow a freak to live in my house.  You will give up these
unnatural and unholy tendencies and behave as you are supposed to.  Boys
don't love other boys," his father spat out, "they fall in love with girls,
and if you don't come to your senses, I'll either beat those faggy feelings
out of you or I'll have you committed, until you start acting normal."

"You think I can change who I am?" his son pleaded.  "Dad, could you have
chosen to be gay?"

"No, and I wouldn't have wanted to," he announced, glaring at his son.
"You'll go to hell if you keep this up, you know."

"So, you say," his son countered, "but I was born this way and there is
nothing I can do to change it.  If you remembered, I tried dating girls,
but it never felt right.  I'm not attracted to them and I don't get excited
from kissing or touching them.  It's not like I have a choice in the
matter..." his father cut him off.

"You DO have a choice and you'd better make it, if you know what's best for
you."

Knowing there was no way to win this argument, the boy bit his tongue and
stormed off to his room, closing the door behind him and hurling himself on
his bed, crying softly into his blankets.  Seeing this, Pat turned to speak
to his guide.

"But the father is correct, the boy DOES have a choice.  He doesn't have to
choose to be gay."

"You truly believe that?" the spirit asked.  "Did you choose to be
straight?"

"No, because we are all born straight."

"Are we?" the ghost countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, and the bible condemns homosexuality."

"Did it condemn the act itself, or was it the attitude of the person
interpreting God's message?  Did the Bible not also condone slavery and
tell women to be totally obedient to their husbands?  Times change, and so
must we.  When Jesus was born on this holy day, he ushered in a new way -
one of love and understanding.  Why is it that you and others condemn
homosexuality so strongly, when it is only referenced in obscure verses in
the Holy Book, yet you show less anger and hostility against those who
break God's commandments?  Shouldn't adulterers, those who take the Lord's
name in vain, those who fail to keep the Sabbath, those who don't honor
their parents, or liars, thieves and murderers be considered far worse, as
they have broken the laws of God?  Yet, you spend your time focusing on
something as trivial as whom someone loves."

"But God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah because of that very sin."

"Was it because of the homosexuality or because they were trying to force
sex upon an unwilling partner?"

Pat hesitated before he answered, thinking back upon the Bible verses that
referred to those events.  "No, it was because they wanted to sleep with
other men," he stated, adamantly.

"So you say, but I believe that is only one interpretation.  Didn't Jesus
befriend a prostitute and forgive others of worse sins?"

"Yes, but not if they repeated that sin."

"But did not God tell us in Matthew 7:1 to `Judge not, that ye be not
judged.'  Isn't that God's job, not ours?  Just as he asks us to inform
others of him and his love, does he not give each person a choice to follow
him?  And if they choose not to follow him, are we commanded to do anything
further?  No, that is God's job and we each shall answer for our deeds some
day, but it is not our job here on earth to do the judging for God.  And if
it were true, that we are born with our sexual orientation in tact, would
God fail to love us for creating us different from others?  Wouldn't that
be the same as him hating people because of their race, the color of their
hair or eyes, or other things they had no control over?"

Pat still wasn't convinced the spirit was right, but he said no more, so
his guide let the matter drop.  Now, he found himself standing before
another house he had seen before, but this time it was the home of the
ebony haired youth he had visited with the first spirit.  Once again, the
scene inside was nothing like it had been before, and the spirit of the
season no longer seemed to reside there.  This time the youth inside was
hurriedly packing his clothes into a small nylon bag, while his parents sat
in the other room, arguing.  "I won't allow that type of behavior in my own
home," the father advised his wife.  "I can't believe our son is a fag!"

"Dear, it may only be his experimental phase.  He may outgrow it."

"Well, I told him he needed to change his way, but he did not, and from
what I saw, this is more than just experimentation."

What did the father see?" Pat wanted to know.  Without saying a word, the
spirit waved his arm, and Pat was now looking through the boy's bedroom
window, a few days earlier.  The boy lay sprawled out next to another young
man, both totally naked, and they were kissing and fondling each other.
While he was watching them, the bedroom door opened and his father began to
walk in, only to stop short, totally unprepared for that sight before him.
As both boys struggled to cover themselves, the father regained his
composure and began to scream at the teens.  "I want that pervert out of my
house and I never want you to see him again!" he ordered.

"But, Dad?  I love him."  The boy's eyes pleaded with his father for
understanding, while both of them scrambled to get dressed.

"Love?  How can you even say that?  Love is for a man and a woman, not for
something as perverted as this.  I don't want him in my house again," he
stated, indicating his son's friend, "and I don't want you seeing each any
more.  If you can't live with that, they you can find somewhere else to
live."  Having spoken his mind, he left the room, giving the boys a chance
to dress.

"So the boy is running away?" Pat asked the spirit.

"No, the boys continued see each other, against his father's wishes, and
they were caught.  His father gave him a week to find somewhere else to
live.  Unfortunately, the final day of that week happened to fall on
Christmas Day."

"Well, he was given a warning, so whatever he endures will be his own
fault.  He should have heeded his father's warning, as he was only making a
reasonable request."

The Ghost of Christmas Present said nothing more and merely waved his arm,
and Pat now found himself back in his own living room, totally alone.

                   *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

A Gay Christmas Carol - by BW                  Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 4 - The final spirit.                  December 2003

Pat did not fall asleep in between this time and he felt the presence of
the final spirit, long before he saw it.  He dropped to one knee and stayed
in that position, as the final apparition, dressed all in black, drifted
gracefully toward him.  This spirit neither smiled nor spoke.

"Oh, Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come," Pat addressed him, "I fear you more
than the other two spirits who have visited me tonight, for I know you are
about to show me things that have not yet happened."  The specter nodded
and then pointed, and Pat turned to see the first scene begin to unfold.
In this vision, Pat saw himself triumphantly holding up a newspaper, whose
headline claimed that a constitutional amendment had been passed, denying
gays the right to marry, thus upholding traditional family values.  As he
scanned the article, he read that the Supreme Court had also ruled that
granting rights to domestic partners was illegal, thus striking it down.
The same court had also ordered that specifically worded sodomy laws were
constitutional and each state had the right to set the morality standards
for its citizens.

Pat watched as his older self was mobbed and cheered by his appreciative
followers, knowing that it was pressure from him and his organization that
had cleared the way for such changes to take place.  As various people
commented about how he had `restored the moral standard of God fearing
people,' or that `he had saved the country from becoming another immoral
wasteland,' Pat watched himself beam with pride.

Without warning, the scene changed and Pat now found himself back at the
blond boy's house.  However, this time they were in the garage of his home
and the boy had just climbed a small stepladder and tossed a rope over one
of the exposed beams.

"What is he doing?" Pat screamed.  "You've got to stop him," he pleaded.
The spirit merely shook his head and Pat turned to watch the boy tie off
the one end of the rope, before placing the end with the noose around his
neck.  He hesitated for a moment, as if he might change is mind, but then
he jumped away from the ladder, kicking it to the ground in the process.
Now, there was no way to reverse his actions and his body jerked and
twitched briefly, before it became limp, as his neck had snapped, when the
weight of his body dropped toward the floor.

Pat felt sick, as he realized what had just happened.  `How could that boy
choose to kill himself, rather than accept a normal sexual orientation?' he
thought.  `Why wouldn't he just be a regular boy, with natural, healthy
desires?'  He didn't have long to pursue these thoughts, however, as he
soon found himself watching the young raven haired youth he had visited
twice before.  The youth appeared to be living in an abandoned building,
but he was far the worse for wear.

It was obvious the boy had been beaten up a few times, as there were many
bruises still apparent on the visible parts of his body, and his clothes
were extremely soiled and threadbare.  This suggested everything else the
boy had taken with him when he left home had been stolen long ago.  The
boy's face was gaunt and his body looked emaciated, and Pat wondered how
long it had been since his last meal.  At this moment, he thought back upon
the words he had spoken earlier, and they came back to haunt him. "Well, he
was given a warning, so whatever he endures will be his own fault.  He
should have heeded his father's warning, as he was only making a reasonable
request."

Again, he wondered why a young man would live like this, rather than give
up his unnatural ways, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the young
man, for all the pain he had endured.  He wished to stay and learn more
about the teen's predicament, but that was not to be, as the specter lifted
his arm, and the scene changed yet again.

This time they were standing in an alley and Pat could see a young man
trying to hide himself in a large cardboard box, and he stepped forward to
investigate what was going on here.  As he peered inside the crate, he
inhaled deeply, being shocked by what he discovered.

"What is my son doing living like this?" he demanded; yet he received no
reply.  Instead his guide lifted his arm yet again, and the scene shifted
once more.  This time Pat was standing in the shed behind his home, looking
at his own son engaged in a sixty-nine position with one of his school
friends.  `How could my own son be queer?' he wondered, trying to determine
if he or his wife had made any mistakes that would have led the boy to do
such things.  When he realized they hadn't, he began to wonder if what they
said was true.  `Where people really born with their sexual identity
predetermined?'

The scene shift yet again, but this time they were in Pat's church and Pat
was giving one of his fire and brimstone sermons about the sinfulness of
being gay and loving a member of the same sex.  However, this time he could
watch his son in the pew, seeing him squirm in his seat and try to justify
the desires he felt with the enormity of the sin he was committing.  Pat
could tell how hard his son was struggling, and he knew his sermon was only
making this struggle more difficult for him.  Before he could see any more,
the scene shifted again, but this time he was in his son's bedroom,
probably later that same day.  This time his son was hurriedly packing his
things and then Pat watched as his son slipped out the window, obviously
running away from home.

There was no way Pat could deny the impact he had inadvertently had on his
son's running away and it tore him up inside.  All this time he thought
everyone was able to make a conscious choice as to their sexual
orientation, but now he began to question his own beliefs.

"Are these the things that ARE to be, or only the things that MIGHT be?" he
asked the dreadful spirit, but he received no reply.  However, before his
could determine what he wanted to do next, the picture changed yet again,
but this time Pat was standing before the throne of God, to receive his
final judgement.

"Did I not command you to love one another, as I loved you?" the Son of God
asked him.

"Yes, you did, but I didn't think that meant for us to accept any
abomination." Pat responded, though meekly trying to justify his actions.

"Did you think it meant to harass those you didn't agree with, until they
killed themselves or had to withdraw completely from the rest of society.
Did you think I meant to incite others to hate those you condemned?  Did I
not teach you that love is the greatest of gift of all?"  Pat did not
respond, but merely hung his head in shame.

"It is because of the likes of you that many of my gay children have
committed suicide, been murdered, or died of neglect on the streets, and
that is a far cry from anything I would ever want to happen.  Why would you
or anyone else think that I would condone hatred toward your fellow man or
suggest violence to coerce them to change their ways, so they could gain
admittance into this heavenly kingdom.  Those who propose hatred and
violence to correct wrongs are far worse than those they seek to change.
It is for that reason, you will spend eternity in the pits of hell."

No sooner had the final words escaped the Son of God's lips, Pat found
himself falling - falling into the depths of hell.  He began to scream, not
willing to believe that he would suffer this fate, when all along he
thought he was doing God's will.  He was still flailing and screaming on
the floor, when his wife began to shake him, bringing him back to the world
of the here and now.

"The spirits wouldn't have shown me those things, if they could not be
changed," he gasped, more to himself than anyone else, which brought a very
puzzled and worried expression to his wife's face.

                    *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

A Gay Christmas Carol - by BW                   Copyright 2003 by billwstories
Chapter 5 - The end of it.                      December 2003

As Pat began to realize where he was and what had happened, he also noticed
that his son and daughter were also there, for he had apparently awakened
the whole family with his outburst.  Seeing his son, he remembered the
visions he had just witnessed about him, and he got up from the floor and
went over to hug the boy.  "Remember, son," he whispered into his ear,
"there is nothing you can do that would ever make me stop loving you."

As he pulled back, to look into his son's face, he noticed a mixture or joy
and confusion in the boy's reaction.  Knowing he would have to explain this
in more detail later, and in private, he turned and hugged his daughter,
before finally embracing his wife.

"I know you are all wondering what happened to me," he began to explain,
"but I think it is best to just explain that I had a dream - one that made
me realize many things.  Over time you will discover that I am no longer
the man I once was, but hopefully the new me will be even better than I was
before.  I haven't time to explain all of this now, as we still need our
sleep, but I will tell you more as time goes by."

None of his family was quite sure what was meant by all of this, but they
were willing to wait until he was ready to explain himself more fully.  As
they all made there way to their own rooms, Pat followed his son into his
room, and shut the door behind him.  "I know you were confused by what I
said downstairs, but I think I see things more clearly now.  If you should
happen to be gay or bisexual, I will love you nonetheless, and I would
never drive you from our home.  All I ask is that you find someone to love
and love that person with all your heart.  If you do that, then I will
promise you that I will always love that person as much as I love you."

His son found himself speechless after hearing this, but greatly moved, and
he threw his arms around his father's torso, pinning Pat's arms to his
side.  The boy now gave his dad the biggest bear hug they had ever shared
and his father kissed him on the forehead, to let him know how much he
cared.  Once his son released him, he hugged him back, kissed him good
night, and then tucked the boy into bed, before he walked down the hall, to
his own room.

When he got there, his wife was already in bed, but he made sure he kissed
her, before snuggling up against her familiar frame, and then he fell into
a blissful, dreamless slumber.  The next morning he began to explain a
little about what he had experiences to his wife, though he thought it best
not to mention the news about their son.  He figured it best to wait until
the boy was ready for the rest of the family to learn his secret and then
he'd let his son inform those he wished to know about his orientation.
However, Pat did not wait before he began to change, and his first move was
to change the way he preached to his congregation.

One Sunday at church, he announced that God had spoken to him and that he
now realized that no man or woman could control certain traits about
themselves, and this included their sexual orientation.  He went on to
explain that any changes groups professed to make, such as claims that they
had helped a gay person to become straight, most likely came about because
that individual was bisexual to begin with.  Therefore, that particular
person did have a conscious choice about which sex he or she would love,
but that would not possible if a person was indeed gay.  He went on to
caution, that if a person were truly gay, they could no more be made to be
straight, than he could be made to be gay, though he no longer had a
problem with that concept.

After that, Pat withdrew his support from legislation prohibiting gay
marriages and he also began to call for fairer treatment of all gays and
their partners.  He was also very vocal in suggesting that sodomy laws were
not only unnecessary, but also immoral.  He now asserted that the only
sexual practice that was intolerable was if someone forced another person
into having sexual relations that they did not want.

Pat Righteous was true to his word and became the best friend, the best
parent, the best husband, and the best clergyman anyone had a right to be.
In his heart he knew that what he was now doing was right and he would now
manage to avoid the fate that had been previously shown to him.  As his
ideas began to spread and become accepted, the world became a happier, more
peaceful place in which to live.  From that time forward, the true spirit
of Christmas began to spread into the hearts of those who had only thought
they knew what it was before.  At last, they finally were able to
understand that the true meaning of Christmas was the fact that Jesus was
born to bring love and understanding into the world, lifting the veil of
hatred and bigotry, which once clouded men's eyes.

                *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me
by at `BW's Rainbow Youth Connection,' at http://bwsryc.gayauthors.org/ You
can also locate my stories by clicking on the Nifty author link and
scrolling down to "BW".  This will give you the links for everything I have
posted there.

I also love to hear from my readers and get their reaction to my stories.
If you don't mind, please share whatever information you feel comfortable
with, because it helps knowing my readers better when I decide what to
write or how to gear it.  Please email me at bwstories8@aol.com and let me
know what you thought, so I can do even better in the future.  Thanks,
Bill.