The God Box (22 page)

When the end-of-lunch bell rang, Mr. Arbuthnot announced, "I've learned a lot today and want to applaud your efforts to foster a safer school environment."Yeah, right. Why hadn't he applauded Manuel the times he reported Jude?Nevertheless, we all left smiling. In spite of our little meeting, afternoon classes proceeded normal as pie. School didn't descend into chaos, the sanctity of marriage remained intact, and Western civilization survived--maybe even improved.During the time we had been organizing our GSA, Jude had gone to court, and his charge of attempted murder had been plea-bargained down to aggravated assault. But because of the seriousness of the original charge and the fact that he had now turned eighteen, he was sentenced as an adult to seven years at state prison, with eligibility for parole after only four. Terry merely received a two-year sentence."That's all the time they got?" My chest swelled with anger. "After they nearly killed you and scarred you for life}"Manuel took it better than I did. "It doesn't matter if it's two or twelve years. They need help, not punishment. What good is sitting in jail going to do?""It'll make them think," I argued. "And maybe think twice next time.""Maybe." Manuel shrugged. "Or they might come out even more hard-hearted and angry."I gritted my teeth, not knowing what to respond. Manuel never ceased to make me wonder236 .237

IN LATE APRIL MANUEL FINALLY HAD THE STRENGTH TO RETURN TO SCHOOL --

IN A WHEELCHAIR. OUR GSA GREETED HIM OUTSIDE THE FRONT DOOR WITH

CHEERS AND A "WELCOME BACK" BANNER.I felt kind of edgy. What if someone else tried to hurt him? But most students kept at a distance, like he was a leper or something. And as the days passed, he didn't get harassed much anymore. Maybe the brutality of what had happened to him had shaken people up.In early May the prom committee began putting up posters and selling tickets at lunchtime. One afternoon, as I drove Manuel to PT, he asked, "So, will you be my date?"I forced a chuckle. He couldn't possibly be serious. "You're joking, right?""Nope." A smile danced across his lips. "I want you to go with me.""Are you crazy? It's not safe!" I wasn't so much concerned about myself as about him. He was a sitting duck in that wheelchair, and I didn't want to risk anything happening to him again. I'd screwed up once. I wasn't going to twice.

"No way."238"Oh, come on!" Manuel gently punched my shoulder. "Who's going to beat up a crippled guy and his manservant?""Forget it." I shook my head, refusing to give in."Amigo"

Manuel insisted. "Are you ever going to stop living in fear?" He raised his finger and wagged it at me, preaching: '"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.'""I think you're ignoring the 'sound mind,'" I grumbled.Actually, there was another part to all this: During the years that Angie and I had dated, we had often talked about going to senior prom together. Even though we were no longer a couple, how would she feel if I went with Manuel?"Jesus, please guide me," I prayed, before I phoned and told her about Manuel's crazy idea."Of course you should go with him," she encouraged me. "Why not?""Because we might, um, get killed?""I doubt it," she said calmly. "After everything that's happened? We'll make it a GSA project."I gripped the phone more tightly. "But what about you? I mean--you know--like, you wouldn't mind if I went with him?"Angie was quiet a moment, as if thinking; then she exhaled a long, audible breath. "Paul, I appreciate that, but. . . I'm trying to move on. And so should you. I will still love you. You'll always live in my heart. But I believe that if you truly love someone, that means you want them to be happy, no matter who they're with. And I want you to be happy."As I listened to her, my eyes started going blurry again. I thought I heard her sniffle too."Look, why don't we go as a group?" she suggested. "That would totally confuse people."239To say the least, I thought. But it also made a lot of sense: There was safety in numbers.After hanging up, I stared at the photo of Angie and me at junior prom. Then I glanced at the dancing cactus Manuel had given me. The past year had turned out nothing like I'd expected.240

ON PROM NIGHT I DRESSED IN MY TUX, LOOKED AT MYSELF IN THE BEDROOM

MIRROR, AND LAUGHED, UNABLE TO DECIDE IF I LOOKED REALLY GOOD OR

TOTALLY GOOFY. I HAD BEEN LAUGHING A LOT MORE THE PAST FEW WEEKS --

OFTENTIMES AT MYSELF.Then I noticed my bright red wwjd wristband poking out from beneath my sleeve. It looked a little out of place with the formal tux.Wait, when had I stopped snapping it against my wrist? I tried to remember but couldn't. I guess that wasn't really the purpose of it anyway. Gently I tucked the wristband beneath my sleeve and let it stay there.In the living room Pa and Raquel were watching TV."Ay, que guapo!" Raquel exclaimed at the sight of me. "So handsome!""You look good," Pa agreed, turning the TV off and standing to gaze at me.

"Photos!" he told me. "I want photos! Where's your camera?"I already had it in my tux pocket to carry along."Take one of him and me together," Pa told Raquel, and put his241arm around me.

Then he gave me a fifty that I hadn't expected, but it was standing alongside him that meant the most to me.When I went to pick Manuel up at his house, his little sister answered the door, hopping up and down with excitement. She giggled uproariously while I leaned over Manuel's wheelchair so we could pin on each other's boutonnieres.More photos flashed--of Manuel and me, Manuel with his family, and all of us together. Then Manuel and I headed to the Chinese restaurant, where we'd arranged for dinner with Angie, Dakota, and the others in Manuel's group.

They had sort of become my group too.Angie was already there, wearing a shimmering ivory strapless gown, in which she looked beyond beautiful. She gave Manuel a kiss on the cheek and whispered something into his ear.Manuel nodded, softly squeezed her hand, and grinned over at me. She looked over too, admiring me from head to toe, and threw her arms around me."You look so awesome!" I told her."And so do you." Her brown eyes smiled.Our dinner was spiced with jokes, laughter, and more photos. Afterward, we all opened fortune cookies.Manuel's was: Make plans, and God laughs.Angie's was: A person who makes no mistakes probably won't make anything.And mine was: The journey of a thousand miles begins with a singlestep.Even though I'd heard that one a gazillion times, it seemed more true than ever.When we arrived at the lodge where prom was being held, I wheeled Manuel across the parking lot toward the music blaring from inside. As we entered, a cloud of perfume and cologne wafted over us.242Cliques circled the edges of the dance floor, chattering and checking out each other's outfits, while other schoolmates bounced beneath the twinkling reflection of the mirror ball."So ..." Dakota turned to Manuel and me with a devilish glint in her eye. "Are you guys going to dance together?""Absolutely!" Manuel shouted over the music.I knew he was kidding. He had to be; he could barely even stand.As couples brushed past us onto the dance floor, I pushed his wheelchair out of the way. But when the music changed to a slow set, Manuel clamped the brake."Help me up!" He braced himself on the chair and clutched my arm.I was thunderstruck. Hadn't we pressed our luck enough?"You're going to hurt yourself," I protested, wrapping my arms beneath his shoulders to keep him from falling.All around us couples stopped dancing to stare, and I felt more exposed than ever."Come on." Manuel must have been in tremendous pain, and yet he whispered,

"Dance with me? Please?"Our eyes met and locked, taking me back to that first morning in homeroom. Suddenly I understood the pull I had felt that day-- and ever since. It was love, beyond all reason.That was the only way I could explain how I gathered the courage to take one step, followed by another, in front of all those people, pressing my chest to his so close that I could feel his heart beat. And as I breathed in the scent of his hair, we danced beneath the twirling mirror ball.Some people gaped and pointed. A couple of guys from the football team raised their fists and yelled something.At that, Angie, Dakota, and the others in our group243formed a circle around Manuel and me, spreading their arms like angel wings."Thanks," Manuel whispered to me, even though we actually only lasted a few steps together. His clenched jaw betrayed how much pain he was in. When I eased him back into the wheelchair, he exclaimed, "I think I'm ready for a double shot of painkiller."The remainder of the evening we talked and joked with the others. I danced with Angie, Dakota, Janice, and Maggie and watched our other schoolmates holding one another close, each couple in their own world this special night. My dream had been prom with the people I loved. And it had happened, just not exactly how I had planned.At one in the morning everyone said good night. I took Manuel to his house and gave him a prom-night kiss. Then I drove home, praying more earnestly than I had in weeks. "Thank you, Jesus, for Manuel, for Angie, for everything..."On the late-night radio some 1930s big-band tune was playing, taking my mind away from my prayers, back to that afternoon in Manuel's bedroom when he had reached for my hand, inviting me to dance ...And I gave one more prayer of thanks: for I'd been given a second chance after all.244

BY THE TIME GRADUATION ARRIVED, I HAD DECIDED TO WAIT A YEAR BEFORE

COLLEGE, IN ORDER TO HELP MANUEL RECUPERATE AND TAKE HIM TO PT AND

DOCTOR'S VISITS. I TOLD PA MY DECISION ON THE WAY TO THE

COMMENCEMENT CEREMONY, WHICH PROBABLY WASN'T THE BEST TIMING."I

won't allow you to give up your studies," he said angrily. "They're too important.""I'm not giving them up," I assured him. "I want to go to college. I'll go next year."We argued about it all that day and for several afterward. "I promise I'll go," I kept telling him, until he finally believed me-- or realized there was nothing he could do about it anyway, other than accept it.After that I went to work for him part time, landscaping, like I usually did during the summers. I think that turned out to be a good thing, giving us more time together.On Sundays we started going with Manuel's family to his "welcoming" church, a much smaller congregation on the other side of town. At first I missed all the arm-waving, clapping, and loud passion of Pastor Jose's services. In comparison Pastor Ruth seemed pretty tame. But her sermons tackled tough subjects, and she didn't give easy answers. Instead she asked challenging questions245about God, justice, and our society that made me think a lot.Maybe most importantly, in Pastor Ruth's congregation I could be myself without people judging me. It was the one public place where Manuel and I could hold hands and not feel the least bit afraid.One day when I picked Manuel up for PT, he was addressing an envelope. Out of curiosity I asked, "Who are you writing to?" He licked the seal and said, "Jude." "What?" My entire body tensed. "Are you nuts?" "Nope. I want to forgive him.""No way!" I protested. "Why should you want to make him feel better?""Amigo ..." Manuel scowled. "I'm not doing it to make him feel better. I just don't want to go through life bitter. That's like drinking poison every day.

I'm forgiving him for me."I thought about that, not really understanding it, and mailed the letter for him, figuring Jude would never answer. But six weeks later Manuel showed me the hand-scrawled, horribly spelled reply.Deer Manuel,Got your letter. At first thought it was a joke. Didn't believe you'd really wrote it. Then I thought you sent it to be meen and get back at me cause more I thought about it more it made me feel bad.One day I showed it to the chaplin here and he said I was lucky. He only heard of one other guy who ever got forgiven by somebody he hurt. So I guess you really did write it? If you did I still don't understand why.Its bad here in prison. You have to fight everybody to leave you alone...He went on to complain for a page and a half, but Manuel didn't seem to mind. He and Jude started to write back and forth. With each letter Jude revealed more and more things he'd gone through246growing up, stuff he said he'd never told anyone, like how he'd been beaten... and worse. In one letter he told how his uncle had raped him when he was barely five years old. It turned my stomach to think about that. I wondered, had Jude equated Manuel being gay with his uncle abusing him? Was that what caused him to feel so much rage toward Manuel?It didn't excuse what Jude did, but it helped me to understand more. Maybe one day I, too, would be able to forgive him.Although Manuel and I were officially boyfriends now, Angie was still my best friend. In late August I helped her move into her dorm at Texas AM, where she'd gotten accepted for pre-vet.That night in her room she made us PBJ sandwiches, which we ate with chocolate milk. And though I tried to fight it, I started crying, knowing how much I'd miss her.Soon after Angie began school, she met another pre-vet, named Frank. As soon as she got home from their first date, she phoned me, laughing so much I could barely understand what she said:"You'll never believe what happened. Right away I told him, 'My best friend is a gay guy. Have you got any problem with that?' And do you know what he says? 'Um, nope.

Actually, um, my moms are lesbians.'"God must have an uncanny sense of humor, I thought.Angie and Frank have been dating ever since. At Thanksgiving she brought him home and introduced us. He's a vegetarian, like her, and equally crazy about critters.Seeing them together, I felt a little sad, wishing I could've been him. But then I thought back to something Angie had taught me: If you truly love someone, you want them to be happy, no matter who they're with.247More than a year has now passed since the night I went to my childhood church, no longer wanting to exist, and looked in the window at the mural of Jesus. I think I did kind of die that night, to so many things that I had been taught to believe: that the Lord condemns gay people, that homosexuality is a sin, and that being gay is a choice. By buying into that story I had learned--slowly and subtly--to hate who I was.I had had to let go of those old ideas and admit that I didn't know God's will and could never be completely certain of it. All I could do was surrender, so that Jesus could enter my heart--not on my terms, but on his.I'm on that new path now, learning to love and accept myself as God created me. After all my prayers for change, uttered and stuffed into my little box, God did change me--just not the way I'd wanted. I still don't understand why I'm gay, but now I accept what I always knew inside my heart: It's just how I am.I still read my Bible pretty much daily, but differently than before: questioning, challenging, and always--as Abuelita said-keeping love as the standard.One other big change is that I've started going by Pablo once more, instead of Paul, and I've started speaking Spanish again. Those are small steps in reclaiming my Mexican heritage, but huge pieces in making me whole.Manuel and I have applied for college together next fall. He wants to study anthropology and tells me I shouldn't give up on my dream of becoming a minister."You're the one who should be the minister," I tell him."Nah." He shakes his head. "I'd piss people off too much."I laugh, knowing he's probably right. So I'm praying about the minister idea. But my prayers are different now.