Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    Bill W
  • Author
  • 2,701 Words
  • 785 Views
  • 2 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Gay Christmas Carol (Revised) - 1. Chapter 1 – Falwell’s Ghost

Patsy Falwell was dead, of that there can be no doubt. This must be understood, because if this weren’t so then nothing wonderful could come of this story. Falwell died on Christmas Eve seven years ago, but the man who Falwell had dutifully served for many years wasn’t at his bedside when he passed away. He was busy preparing for the Christmas Eve service at the church, although he did officiate at Patsy’s funeral service three days later.

You see, Christmas Eve was a busy, yet joyous time for Reverend Franklin Phelps, and now this day had an additional meaning for him. It served as a painful reminder of when he lost his faithful friend and longtime assistant. In addition to losing his closest confidant, Franklin also had difficulty coming to grips with why God would allow such a devout man to pass away on such a festive and important religious holiday. He understood that God worked in mysterious ways, but the platitude served as little comfort concerning the timing and enormous loss he felt.

Phelps was a pious man and a religious leader of some renown, and he did his best to ensure the word of God was spread throughout the land – at least his unyielding and stagnant interpretation of it. He even went as far as to make certain that influential politicians felt the heat from his movement and knew when his followers were unwilling to go along with certain decisions the politicians had made. The main topics in dispute included society’s growing acceptance of homosexuals, the granting of gay rights, and the legalization of non-traditional forms of marriage. He didn’t do this to be mean or vindictive; at least that’s what he told those who questioned his motives. He merely claimed to be following the word of God as it was written in the Holy Bible.

This evening was one of the most wonderful times of the year for Phelps and his followers and he looked forward to giving his typical Christmas Eve sermon. As he made his way to the church, which was next door to the parsonage where he and his family lived, he walked arm-in-arm with his wife and was flanked by his two children. As he and his family headed toward the humble structure, many of his congregants offered their well wishes and seasonal greetings. They also expressed their admiration for all that he’d accomplished during the past year.

“Merry Christmas, Reverend Phelps. You’ve had another terrific year of getting our message out and holding the politicians accountable!” they each offered in their own way.

Franklin graciously accepted their compliments and Yuletide wishes and happily passed along his own Christmas tidings in return. During this time, he also noticed that a gentle snow was beginning to fall and silently accumulating on the ground around them, so they would have a white Christmas as well. It was truly a wonderful time of the year.

After entering the church, it wasn’t long before Phelps was standing behind the pulpit and joyfully joining in with the choir as it led them in some of his favorite Christmas carols. The power of the Holy Spirit seemed to fill this small edifice to the rafters and only inspired him more. His sermon was a huge success as well, and then the service concluded with the singing of a few more seasonal hymns.

Everyone was in a splendid mood when the final benediction was given, and then Phelps made his way toward the exit. He stood just outside the main doorway of this humble place of worship so he could greet each of his parishioners and bestow a blessing on them before they headed home.

“Merry Christmas and please be sure to honor our savior, Jesus Christ, tomorrow as you celebrate the day of his birth,” he would begin. “May the Lord grant you peace and serenity on this sacred day.” He would also add a personal comment to each of his parishioners before they moved on.

Once the final congregant had departed, Phelps made his way to the parsonage to rejoin his family, since they had gone ahead. He was ready to enjoy this special evening with those he loved, and as he made his way there he noticed that a substantial amount of snow had already accumulated on the ground. Although it was still snowing, he could make out the footprints of those who had gone before him.

When he reached the parsonage, he and his family sat in the living room and chatted about many things in the glow of the lights on their wonderfully decorated Christmas tree. There was also a magnificent Nativity spread beneath its lowest boughs that helped to remind them of the true meaning of the day. There were also numerous presents stacked neatly on either side of this religious masterpiece, and each family member reveled in the love and closeness the holiday provided them. It was truly one of their favorite times of the year.

As the evening grew later, Mrs. Phelps took the children up to bed, but Franklin stayed behind so he could put the final touches on his next sermon. He was working alone in the study when the lights began to flicker, so he got up and looked out the window to see if his neighbors were having similar problems. As far as he could tell, the parsonage seemed to be the only building afflicted by this malady. Try as he might, he couldn’t immediately discern a reason for why this was happening, but he didn’t have long to ponder the situation further, because the doorbell rang and disturbed his thoughts.

Franklin wondered who could possibly be visiting at this hour of the night, especially on Christmas Eve. It was possible that one of his parishioners had a problem that required his attention, but when he went to see who was there he found the doorstep empty. He was also surprised that he was unable to locate any new footprints in the freshly fallen snow, so who had rung the doorbell? Confused, he headed back to the study, and along the way he considered if the current electrical problems might have caused the doorbell to ring.

As he attempted to refocus on his sermon, the lights began to flicker again, and then they dimmed before going out completely. He was about to light a candle so he could see when the lights suddenly came back on, and then the doorbell rang again. Franklin rushed over to answer it, hoping to either discover who was there or possibly catch the prankster who thought that disturbing him at this hour was amusing, but once again no one was there.

“Is anyone here? If you need something, then please show yourself.”

When no one responded, he spoke again. “I don’t think this is funny, so please leave us alone,” he shouted as he waved his fist in the air.

He also looked around again and was unable to locate any new footprints in the snow. Totally bewildered, he reconsidered the idea that the electrical problems might somehow be responsible for this conundrum, although he didn’t see how that would be possible. Lacking for another solution, he hoped the problem would end when the situation with the power was solved.

Franklin was prepared to return to the study so he could continue working on his sermon when he heard an unexpected noise behind him. He spun around to see what had caused it and immediately froze in disbelief as chills ran up and down his spine. A shadowy figure was passing through the closed and locked doorway and moving into the foyer. Slowly, the apparition began to take shape until it was recognizable, and Franklin stared at it to see if he could discern what, or more correctly who stood before him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Franklin barked out.

“Ask me not who I am, but who I was,” the apparition responded.

“Fine, then who were you?”

“In life I was your humble assistant and loyal companion, Patsy Falwell.”

“Patsy Falwell, is it really you?”

Phelps trembled slightly while beholding the figure in front of him and realized Patsy appeared to be dressed in the same clothes that he’d been buried in. The garments, however, appeared to have seen better days and were currently smoldering. This indicated that his clothing had been burning and only recently extinguished.

“No, this is impossible. I attended your funeral and saw you buried. It can’t be you, because there are no such things as ghosts!”

Franklin began to rub his eyes, since he thought his senses were playing a trick on him. He even pinched himself to see if he was dreaming, but nothing changed until the apparition released a terrible and unearthly groan. When that happened, it struck Franklin like an icy blast and created fear in his very soul.

“You are wrong Franklin. Why do you deny your senses? How can you say there are no such things as ghosts when one is standing right in front of you?”

“Our senses can easily misinterpret their surroundings. This can be caused by an illness, lack of sleep, or even a reaction to something I ate or drank.”

Frustrated, the spirit released a howl that caused Franklin to fall to his knees trembling. “Do you believe in me or not?” the spirit pressed.

“Yes, I do, I truly do,” Phelps replied, his voice quivering. “But why are you here?”

“I have come to offer you a chance for redemption.”

“Redemption? What do I need redemption from? I pray to God every night and ask him to forgive me for my sins.”

“Yes, you do, but not from these sins. This is because you are not willing to acknowledge that what you’re doing is a sin.”

“I ask God to forgive ALL of my sins.”

“That is not enough! You must accept responsibility and recognize the fact that what you are doing is wrong. You must also make amends for the harm you have caused over the years and change the way you live your life, if you wish to avoid the same fate that I bear.”

“What harm have I caused? I haven’t done anything wrong. You and I have always spread the word of God as it was stated in the Holy Scriptures.”

“Yes, that’s what we told ourselves, but we were mistaken. In hindsight it seems that my parents were very wise when they named me Patsy, instead of Patrick, because that’s what I’ve been. I was your patsy and willingly regurgitated every word and idea that you spouted as truth.”

“And that’s just what it was – truth. We were always able to use scripture to support our beliefs.”

This caused the spirit to emit a very loud and fearsome shriek before it spoke again. “That’s what we told ourselves, but we were mistaken. I have been suffering these past seven years because of those errors in judgment and the many wrongs that I caused. I have come to offer you a chance to avoid a similar fate than the one I endure.”

“Mistakes… suffering… how can that be possible? You were always a righteous and God-fearing man, as well as my faithful assistant for many years. You helped me to carry out God’s will, so why would you be suffering for doing that? Since the day that you passed from this world I’ve been convinced that you were sitting at the right hand of God and reaping your just rewards for a faithful and devoted life.”

“That’s what I expected as well, but it was just another of my miscalculations, because I’ve spent these past seven years in hell.” The spirit then hung its head, as if it was remorseful.

“But I don’t understand,” Phelps challenged. “You merely preached the word of God and passed along various scriptural tenants to both the faithful and nonbelievers.”

“What I passed along was our misinterpretation of God’s word, and I’ve since learned that our personal prejudices colored the message we spread. We bastardized the meaning of what God had intended. I now pay for those mistakes, as will you, if you aren’t willing to repent. Haven’t you noticed the chains I wear?”

“Yes, I was wondering about those, but I didn’t wish to be rude and bring it up.”

“These are the chains I forged in life, link by link. Some of the links represent a child or an adult who committed suicide after I played a role in having them enter conversion therapy. Other rings represent a life I’d forced into the shadows due to the shame I brought them by constantly insisting that they were sick, disgusting, and evil for being gay. Still other links are for those I prevented from finding love and happiness due to our limited interpretation of God’s word. We helped to break up relationships and prevented other individuals from getting married. We kept still more from being able to adopt needy children, which affected even more lives and caused other links to be added to my chain.”

“It is a ponderous chain indeed,” Phelps stated.

His comment caused Falwell to rattle the chains and howl in disgust simultaneously. He couldn’t believe that Franklin was focused only on the obvious and missing the true meaning of his words.

“Your chain was as long and heavy as this one seven Christmases ago and you’ve continued to labor on it since. I am here to give you a chance to correct the error of your ways – a chance that was not afforded to me.”

“You were always a good friend, Patsy, and I thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

“Tonight you will be visited by three spirits and they will show you where we went wrong.”

“If this is the opportunity that you offer, then I’d rather pass.”

Patsy’s spirit let out an ear-splitting howl in response. “It’s typical of you to downplay the significance of this matter and to refuse help. You must acknowledge culpability for your actions and accept this chance for redemption. Pay attention to what the spirits show you and heed their message, because it is the only way you might save yourself from suffering the same fate that I have endured in the pits of hell. Do not squander this opportunity, my friend, for it shall not be offered again.”

“Can’t you just pass this information along to me instead, so I don’t have to be visited by any more spirits? You were always a good and loyal friend, Patsy, and I’d rather hear this message from you.”

Patsy’s spirit let out another ghastly howl, although this one was more fearsome than any of the others. Phelps was now lying prostrate on the floor and shaking uncontrollably, completely consumed by the haunting sense of despair the wail had caused to ripple throughout his soul.

Franklin, you must accept these spirits and heed what they have to say, for tonight will be your only chance to avoid my fate. The first spirit will appear at midnight, the second an hour later, and the final spirit at two o’clock. Do not expect to see me again and you’d be wise to heed my warnings.”

Once this had been said, the ghost of Patsy Falwell began to drift across the room until it effortlessly exited through a closed window, without doing any damage. Franklin summoned enough courage to follow it, and then he peered out the window to see where the spirit went next. He was stunned to discover that there were numerous other spirits floating gracefully about, most likely performing similar tasks as his former assistant.

Shaken and unwilling to let his wife and children know what he had just witnessed, he decided to lie down on the sofa in the study. He covered himself completely with the afghan that had been draped across the back of the sofa, but it took several minutes before he was able to shake off the effects of Patsy’s visit. Eventually, he began to calm down enough that he was finally able to fall asleep.

Copyright © 2020 Bill W; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 5
  • Love 1
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...