The God Box (2 page)

By second grade I had progressed to the advanced reading group, stopped speaking Spanish altogether, and started going by Paul instead of Pablo. Angie and I sat side by side at lunch, hung out at each other's homes after school, talked for hours on the phone, and I Med way past bedtime. In middle school, at a birthday party truth-or-dare game, Angie and I kissed for the first time. It was just a peck, really. But it made us officially boyfriend and girlfriend. After that we walked hand in hand at the mall, went to dances together, and gave each other gifts and heart-shaped cards. By high school, we were voted

Cutest Couple, even though we never majorly made out--much less did anything approaching sex.I never spoke to her about the confused feelings

that troubled me, maybe because I feared talking about it would make it more real. I wasn't ready for that. And besides, how could I explain what

was happening when I didn't understand it myself? Instead I prayed for God to change me and hoped that Angie wouldn't end up hurt. What if she

did find out my secret thoughts? On the outside, I was a model of ail-American heterosexual Christian boyhood. (Being tall for my age no doubt

helped.) But on the inside, I felt like a fraud, smaller than a bug.

SNAP! I POPPED MY WWJD BAND AGAINST MY WRIST AS THE END-OF-LUNCH

BELL CLANGED THAT FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR. Elizabeth stood hurriedly, almost knocking over her chair. "Well . . ." She gave Manuel a tight-lipped smile. "It's certainly been interesting meeting you. “Dakota steadied Elizabeth's chair and told Manuel, "I'd love to interview you for the school paper sometime." Angie gathered her tray and offered, "Let me know if you need help finding your way around. “I merely mumbled, "See you," and got up to leave."Hey, Pablo!" Manuel reached out, handing me a slip of paper. "Here's my screen name and phone number. “I gritted my teeth, trying to be polite. "I told you, my name's not Pablo. It's Paul.

“Okay, sorry, Paul." He gave me a big full-on smile. "You want to hang out after school? “Can’t.

I've got choir practice." I grabbed my tray to leave, glancing at the screen name, Get Real BeReahji2."Hey." Manuel stopped me again. "Can I have yours?" I grappled for an excuse.

Couldn't he take a hint? Reluctantly, I jotted down Jesus_Rules_3r6 along with my cell number.

"Cool." Manuel beamed. "Thanks.” All during afternoon classes, I stared out the window at the school's parched September lawn, too angry at myself to focus on my class work. Why had I given some admitted homosexual my screen name and cell number? Was I stupid? No, I was beyond stupid. How could I undo what I had done? Simply not answer if he contacted me? For now, there was only one thing I could do: pray. I’d never understood the debate over prayer in schools. Whenever I wanted to pray, it didn't matter where I was--in a classroom, at a school football game, or in the crowded cafeteria--I simply did it. I didn't need any constitutional amendment for permission. I knew Jesus was with me at all times and everywhere. I merely needed to speak his name in my heart. As I did now: Jesus, I'm really scared. I know I shouldn't have given Manuel my screen name and phone number. Please forgive me. And could you maybe have him lose it? Or at least not call me? I ask you this with all my heart. In your name. Amen.

After school I met Angie in the seniors' parking lot to go to church choir practice. When she saw me, her brow creased with concern. "What's the matter?” Nothing." I forced a smile, but she didn't buy it."Hey, it's me." She pouted and tossed me her car keys. "I can tell when something is bothering you. “Cagily, I slid into the seat next to her. How could I explain how angry I was at myself for giving Manuel my info and how scared I was he'd call? As I started the car engine, I fumbled for something to tell her. "Um, I don't know. I guess maybe I'm nervous about the coming weekend. “That wasn't a total lie. Several times a year our church's youthchoir performed at the main Sunday worship. I loved singing and connecting to God that way, but as every performance approached, I'd feel a little jittery. “You always stress . . ." Angie reached across the seat and squeezed my shoulder. "But every time you do fine. Relax. “The touch of her hand soothed like a balm. Even though it sometimes annoyed me how she could keep so cool when I felt ready to lose it, her steadfast calm was also one of the things I loved most about her. Choir rehearsal that afternoon was uneventful, with no calamities or screw-ups. Singing always lifted my heart and put me at peace. After practice, Angie invited me over to her house to eat and study together, as she often did. She lived about six blocks from me, in a ranch-style house with a St.

Francis birdbath in the front yard to welcome any passing creature. Angie was a little crazy when it came to animals, trying to save them from themselves, from each other, and from humans. One time, it was a squirrel jolted by an electric line; another time, a frog trapped in a swimming pool.

At least once a month I helped her take some critter to the vet to have it mended or healed. Every tree in her yard had a carefully placed birdhouse, and each morning and evening she fed a gathering of strays. “Be careful," I'd tease her, "or you'll grow to be some kooky old cat lady who smells like tuna. “In truth I admired her a lot--her strength and kindness. At times her heart seemed bigger than all of Texas. Tonight, after I helped her dish out the dog and cat food, replenish the water bowls, and fill the bird feeders, we had dinner with her mom and dad: veggie burgers, tomatoes, corn chips, and zucchini. (Naturally, Angie was a vegetarian, refusing to eat

"anything that has a face.")14After we had finished eating and loaded the dishwasher, we went to Angie's room and listened to the CD I'd given her in homeroom, each of us saying which songs we liked best. As we listened, Angie sat at her computer; a cat perched on her lap, and researched a passage from the Gospel of John for our Christ on Campus meeting the following day. Each group member rotated leading our Bible studies, and tomorrow was Angie's turn. Meanwhile, I lay on the carpet and worked on my homework for AP English: a report on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, which I'd had to read over the summer. I was writing about the lead characters and how Miss Bennet's stubborn prejudice contrasted with Mr. Darcy's obnoxious pride. Suddenly Angie announced, "We should invite Manuel. “At the mention of his name, my stomach gave a lurch. Ever since choir practice I'd managed to put him out of my mind. Now he suddenly barged in again, and all of my anxiety along with him. “To Bible Club tomorrow," Angie clarified. "Let's invite him. “I glanced up at her. "You serious? “Sure. Why not? “Why not}" I sat up on the carpet. "Because, duh\ He says he's gay! “So?" Angie continued scrolling through the web page she was studying. "He said he's a Christian. “I let my pen drop. "And I suppose if he were a serial killer who claimed to be Christian you'd want to invite him too?" Angie pursed her lips a moment, thinking. "Yeah. Maybe. Didn't Jesus reach out to everyone--especially people whom others wanted nothing to do with? “I folded my arms across my chest. “I don't recall Jesus ever reaching out to anyone gay. “Well," Angie retorted, "I don't recall Jesus reaching outto any American teenage boys either--or people in a thousand other categories. “I frowned, annoyed--

and stumped--by her logic. “Besides," Angie continued, "not every single soul Jesus reached out to is listed in the Gospels. And how do we know that some of the people who are mentioned weren't gay?" She reached down and nudged my shoulder. "Hey, come on. The poor guy is new.

He doesn't have any friends. Remember Matthew Twenty-five? 'I was a stranger and you welcomed me ... As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.'"Among our group we often quoted Scripture. But Angie had a particular knack for citing verses that made you feel like a hardhearted creep if you argued against them. “He’s going to get his butt kicked," I grumbled, "When the word gets out he's gay. “All the more reason"--Angie returned her attention to the computer screen--"he needs us as friends. “While she continued preparing her Bible study, I tugged nervously at my wristband. I knew that when Angie made up her mind about something, there was no stopping her. Inside my head I tried to picture Manuel at our Bible Club. How could we discuss Holy Scripture with someone avowedly homosexual in our midst? How would Elizabeth and the others react? And where would all this lead? The words of Second Corinthians rang in my brain: Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers. Except that Manuel claimed he was a believer. I tried to go back to my homework paper but couldn't concentrate.

"I've got to go." I gathered my stuff off the carpet and stood up. Angie gazed over from the computer, giving me a curious look. "You okay?" "Yeah." I felt too mixed-up to reveal what was really going on. "Call you later, okay? “Walking home, I tried to sort out my feelings, most of all my annoyance at Angie. Manuel wasn't some injured baby possum fallen from a tree. Why was she so interested in him? When I got home, my pa was in the kitchen on the phone with his girlfriend and drinking a glass of buttermilk. At forty-one, he had begun to show his age. When Ma had died five years earlier from cancer, his mustache had started to gray and little lines had started forming at the corners of his eyes. A year ago he had met Raquel, and she began patiently courting him. Even before Ma's death Pa had been kind of an introvert. He worked in landscaping and had always seemed more at ease with plants than with people. Raquel seemed good for him. I liked her. After Pa hung up, we talked for a few minutes, and then I headed to my room. I tossed my backpack onto the bed and checked my computer. An IM from VetGirl-888 (Angie) awaited me: Guess what? Did you ever notice that John is the only Gospel with the story of the woman at the well? Or the woman taken in adultery? That story isn't even in any of the earliest versions of John. Angie was always coming up with little known factoids like that. Really? I asked, glad to take my thoughts off Manuel. Cool, huh? Angie replied. Doesn't it make you wonder how many other Gospel stories failed to make the cut? I wondered if she was going to harp again on whether some Bible characters were secretly gay. Suddenly, another message popped up, and little blisters of sweat exploded on my forehead. The IM was from Get Real_ BeReahji2: Sup amigo? Enjoyed meeting u and ur chick friends. C ya tomorrows.I stared at the message, my stomach churning.

Why on earth had I given him my screen name? Should I respond now? He hadn't asked for a response. Better not. Nevertheless, I added him to my buddy list. I tried working on my Pride and Prejudice paper some more, in and around messaging Angie. But I didn't tell her about Manuel's IM. I guess I didn't want to get into it again with her. Around midnight I readied for bed and got on my knees to pray, as I did every night. I started by giving thanks for my pa, Angie, and all the blessings in my life. Then, as usual, I reviewed my day. Since God obviously hadn't made Manuel lose my screen name, I wasn't sure what to pray about that. “Again, forgive me, Lord, for giving Manuel my info ..."But then Angie's words crossed my mind--about reaching out to Manuel--and made me feel all tangled up inside. Unable to sort it out, I simply added him to my prayer list of people. I climbed into bed, hoping that would be the end of it. But his face wouldn't leave me, as I pictured him in the cafeteria, reaching out to me with his big full-on smile.

MY SECOND MORNING OF SENIOR YEAR,I HIT SNOOZE ON MY ALARM ABOUT A

MILLION TIMES. BY NOW WORD ABOUT THE NEW GUY AT SCHOOL BEING GAY

HAD SURELY SPREAD LIKE WILDFIRE. AND WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF HE DID

COME TO BIBLE CLUB? NOT WANTING TO THINK ABOUT IT, I PULLED THE

COVERS OVER MY HEAD AND PLUNGED BACK TO SLEEP."Mijo, you're going to be late," Pa said, shaking my foot.All my life he'd woken me up like that, as though I were some tree he'd planted and he wanted to make sure it had taken root. It was kind of annoying, mostly because after that I could never fall back to sleep.Reluctantly, I got up and slogged through my shower, double-tasking with prayers. As I approached school, my stomach burbled with anxiety at the prospect of seeing Manuel. I imagined pandemonium, with people hurling insults at him and throwing things. Yet amazingly, when I arrived at homeroom, Manuel and Angie sat chatting and smiling, as normal as could be. And none of the other students were giving them weird or scornful looks.Why weren't people freaking out? Hadn't the news spread19about Manuel's announcement? Or was it no big deal after all? Maybe students in our small town were simply too shocked to believe a classmate would openly admit to being gay.As I stepped warily between the desks, Manuel grinned at me, and a ray of sun shone across his wavy hair.My morning classes blurred past without incident. I handed in my halfhearted Pride and Prejudice report, and my class discussed how pride and prejudice stand in the way of relationships. I didn't pay much attention. I was too preoccupied, worrying if Manuel would sit with us again at lunch.When I got to the cafeteria, my three "chick friends" (as Manuel had called them) were already at our table. I set my tray down just as Elizabeth asked Angie, "That new guy isn't going to sit with us from now on, is he?""I don't know." Angie calmly sipped her carton of apple juice."Because if he is"--Elizabeth stabbed her fork into a batter-fried shrimp--"I can't sit with y'all anymore.""But he's so cute!"

Dakota grinned. For a Christian, she could look surprisingly devilish. "Why don't you want him to sit with us?""You know why." Elizabeth glowered at her. "Because he's living in sin."I sat down and quietly dug into my lasagna, anxious to see where the conversation would go.Angie stared across the table at Elizabeth and quoted Romans: '"All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.'""Yes, I do know that, thank you. But he's unrepentant.""So, do you want to tell him not to sit here?" Dakota asked.Elizabeth wiped her hands with a napkin. "I'm not the one who invited him in the first place."From across the lunchroom, I noticed Manuel approaching our table and murmured to our group, "Here he comes."20"Hey." Manuel smiled. "Is it okay if I sit with you guys again?"Elizabeth darted a look of disapproval at us. A batter crumb was sticking to her pale pink lipstick.Angie turned away from her and told Manuel, "Of course.""Have a seat."