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    Bill W
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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. 

Son Of A Preacher Man - 10. Chapter 10 - Return To The Promise Land

The next morning I ran into Peter’s mother and she asked if we could talk. When I agreed, she took me into the living room, where we could have a conversation in private.

“Zach, did you get a chance to listen to the song I sent up with Ryan?” she began.

“Yes, ma’am. I listened to it, over and over last night,” I told her, hoping my admission would make her happy.

“And what did you think of it?” she followed, while studying my face closely.

“It was a very nice song,” I stated, since I wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted from me.

“But what do you think the words of the song were saying?” she pressed, so I thought for a minute before responding.

“I think it means that love can be many things,” I replied. “It can be a feeling, but it can also be longing or a desire. It can even be hurtful, just as easily as it can be wonderful, but there’s much more to it than just that. I think it also means that when you give or receive love, you have to work at it, nurture it and trust the ones you love to make your love grow.”

“I’d say that’s a pretty fair synopsis of the song,” she agreed. “Do you know what it means for you?”

“It think it means I should talk to my dad and try to work things out with him, but I’ve already done that and it didn’t work,” I explained. “My dad won’t give in and I can’t make the kind of promise he wants me to give him. I have felt the joys from a father-son type of love, but now I’m suffering the pain from it too. I only hope my dad and I live long enough to discover a common ground, so we can end our disagreement, because I want us to enjoy that same type of love again. I think we can, but I’m afraid that time isn’t now.”

“Just don’t give up and I’m certain you’ll be able to work things out,” she announced, as she started to leave the room, but then she stopped in the doorway and turned toward me once again. “I just need to tell you one more thing before I leave, Zach. I want to assure you that your parents love you very much, so given some time I’m positive you’ll find a suitable compromise that each of you can live with. Remember, Zach, time heals all wounds, so eventually you and your parents will either come to grips with this problem or you’ll forget about whatever it was that caused this pain in the first place. Trust in the Lord and seek his guidance and in time the solution will present itself to you. Have faith and you’ll eventually find the answer you seek.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Anderson, you’ve been a big help,” I told her, and I meant every word of it. “I only hope my dad and I will get to the point you’re talking about, because it’s just too hard to keep going when I know my father is upset with me. I still want his love and I think he wants mine too, so I’ll keep trying to talk to him. Maybe someday it will happen like you say and we’ll be able to get things back to normal.”

Mrs. Anderson kissed me on the forehead and gave me a hug, but I don’t think she’ll ever realize how much her gift and pep talk had done to lift my spirits. Whether she knows it or not, she gave me hope that the fences that had been broken between my parents and me might still have a chance to be mended. That evening, I began to pray to God that he would show me a way I could be reunited with my parents and they’d accept me for who I am.

In the meantime, the three of us buddies went back to work on the farm and spent our free time engaged in a variety of leisure activities, including sex. I got to see my first movie in a theater, since that was something my father’s church frowned upon, but I also started to listen to some of Ryan’s music with him and Peter, which was another prohibited activity according to the church. Suddenly, a whole new world was opened up to me and I realized how much I had missed out on because of my father’s restrictions.

The more I learned from Ryan and Peter, the more I discovered how suffocating my father’s protective love had been. He never gave me the opportunity to grow up on my own or participate in any decisions concerning my life. Everything I did, thought or was allowed to participate in had been dictated by my father’s moral and spiritual code. This was fine while I was little and it gave me the basis for making my own decisions, so once I had reached the point where I could think and rationalize for myself, I should have been given some voice in matters that concerned me. This never happened, so now I was estranged from the two people I had always loved.

I was willing to make some concessions to my parents’ beliefs, but the only choices my father was giving me with was to either become celibate or be separated from my family. Unfortunately, I realized there was no way I’d be able to control my emotions and inhibit my sexual desires, especially if I was going to be around other young men. The only way I knew to accomplish what my father requested would be to isolate myself completely, which included physically, mentally and emotionally from all other males.

Subconsciously, I determined I would rather have Ryan and Peter’s love and the sexual gratification that came with it, rather than give in to my parents’ demands, so I accepted my share of the blame for not being able to resolve this dilemma. Since I was willing to forgo my parents’ acceptance, which might also mean forging a bright future, I decided that from this moment forward I was going to make my own choices. I would make choices that would lead me into the world of adulthood, so now I just had one final decision to make.

There were only three more weeks until the end of summer and I still had to decide whether I would go back and live with Peter’s family, so I could remain physically near my parents, or stay with Ryan’s family and remain with my heart’s desire. Either way, I would have to work and earn my own keep, so I talked to both of them and discussed my options and the consequences of each decision. I was still agonizing over the alternatives and the summer was nearly over, but I still hadn’t made my final choice.

After grappling with these possibilities for weeks, I finally made up my mind and decided to stay with Ryan. Since I didn’t want either of them to be hurt, I called them together and explained my decision to them at the same time and then waited for their reactions. Peter hugged me and told me how much he’d miss me, but he said he understood my reasons for making this choice. He admitted he probably would have done the same thing, since he could see how much I loved Ryan. He also told us that he would continue to save his money, so he could buy tickets to return over Christmas and the following summer, when we’d all be reunited again, if only briefly.

I was thrilled that Peter was so understanding about this and still wanted to remain friends. Ryan was thrilled too, so we promised to email him regularly, so we could keep updated on what was going on and remain part of each other’s lives. We also agreed to let him know what colleges we were leaning toward and asked him to do the same, so we could agree on which ones we would all apply to. It was a very emotional evening, but we all felt relieved that the decision had been made and that the tension caused by my having to decide was now behind us.

We spent our last few days working at the farm, but during our free time we attempted to load Peter up with enough sexual attention so he’d remain satisfied until Christmas. There were only two days left before his return trip home when we arrived back from work and discovered a surprise.

“Dad! What are you doing here?” I asked, totally shocked.

“Zachariah, I would like to speak with you in private, if you don’t mind?” he responded, while sounding quite serious.

“Sure, let’s go for a walk,” I offered, since I felt I needed to get away from the house to do this.

My heart was racing, as I tried to determine what had brought my dad all the way here and what possibilities it might suggest. I could feel and hear my heart beating in my eardrums, since that vital organ had seemed to switch into overdrive and was excitedly pumping blood throughout my body. As we walked, I silently prayed this nightmare might be coming to an end, but then again my father might have just come here to give me another ultimatum. My dad and I walked for quite a while down the road in total silence, before he finally spoke.

“Zachariah, I have spent the entire summer rehashing our final discussion, including each of the arguments you presented to me before you left,” he explained.

‘Oh, no,’ I thought when he started. He was using my proper name again and he’d done it twice since he’d been here, so I felt this was a bad omen.

“I have considered the various points you made that day,” he continued, “and I’ve done some research on the matter. After putting all of that together, I have made some decisions and came to make you an offer.”

My heart leaped into my throat when he said this. What kind of offer was he going to make and was it one I could live with? Was he willing to take me back or was he going to tell me about some research or a program that would make me straight? My mind was racing over the possibilities, so I had to force myself to focus on his words.

“Zach, I have looked into the psychological studies concerning the origins of homosexual preferences,” he announced. “After much reading, I’m beginning to agree with your assumption that you had no choice in being gay, and if that is true, then it may also be true that God made you this way. I’m not going to say I understand why he might have done this, but if God made you like this, then maybe you’re correct in you assumption that he wouldn’t automatically despise you because of it. After thinking this matter over and talking to your mother about it, I’m willing to live with the fact that you’re a homosexual.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned toward my father and threw my arms around his neck. I believed he was definitely making the first move toward taking me back, so my emotions were overtaking me. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was trying to control my irregular breathing, in an effort to keep myself from hyperventilating.

“Zach, there’s more,” he added, ending my euphoria.

Suddenly, my heart stopped beating again and I began to fear what else he had to say. My mind immediately raced to the idea that he’d accept me being gay, as long as I didn’t act upon it.

“I said I would agree that you didn’t have a choice about being gay,” he clarified, “but I still cannot accept the behavior involved with that life style, at least not in my house.”

‘Then why had he come here?’ I wondered, but I didn’t say it aloud.

Just accepting the fact that I was gay didn’t change anything, especially if he was telling me the only way he’d accept me was if I remained celibate. As my mind struggled to understand the meaning of his words, my father’s voice snapped me back to consider what he was currently saying.

“Zach. Zach! You’ve got to pay attention,” he urged, when he saw that my mind was wandering.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I apologized. “I was just considering what you had just said.”

“I understand, but I need you to listen carefully,” my dad emphasized.

“I will, so go ahead and continue,” I promised.

“As I was saying, I understand you probably didn’t have any choice about being gay and I am willing to concede that you are also old enough to make some of your own choices,” he added, which totally floored me. “You know my views about what the scriptures says, but since I know you have accepted Jesus as your savior, I don’t view this in the same light that I might with someone else. You’re well aware of what I consider will be the consequences for such behavior, but you are the one who will have to pay the price for those choices, if God deems there should be any penalties on Judgment Day. Therefore, I will not question your sexual orientation further.”

“Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me,” I told him, as I wrapped my arms around his chest and started to cry again,

As my mind was racing over the possibilities, I suddenly came to another conclusion. Maybe God had answered my prayers and was offering the solution I had prayed for. While I was considering this, my father placed his hands on either side of my face and lifted my head, so we were looking into each other’s eyes.

“Zach. I am willing to let you come back home, but if you do, then you will need to make me one small promise.”

‘Oh, no! Not the promise, again,’ I thought, as I began to back away from him. ‘He knows I won’t promise to remain celibate, so why was he bringing up the promise again? It seems like a such a total waste to have come this far, just to end up back at square one again.’

“Zachariah! Will you please pay attention?” my father nearly shouted, while yanking me back to the present.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I will,” I apologized again.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he continued. “I’m not going to ask you to make the same promise I asked of you before.”

Suddenly, I began to feel better and air started to fill my lungs once more, since I was now able to breathe normally again. This pronouncement had helped me shed the one fear I dreaded the most, which was that he was going to tell me I couldn’t act upon my desires. I’d never be able to bear the loneliness and misery that would accompany such a choice, so if that had been what he needed to heal our estrangement, then it wasn’t going to happen.

“What I want you to promise me is this, son,” my dad explained. “If I let you return to our home, I want you to promise that you’ll honor your mother’s and my feelings by not doing those things under our roof. What you do outside of our home is entirely your decision, so if you’ll just make this one concession, then you are welcome to return home and live with your mother and me for as long as you desire.”

“But what will you do if I find someone that I love and want to be with?” I challenged. “Will you allow me to bring him home, as long as we promise not to do anything of a sexual nature while he’s there?”

“Your mother and I will do our best to make him feel welcome into our home,” he conceded, “as long as you refrain from doing anything of that nature while you are there.”

I was so overwhelmed by my father’s sudden change of heart that my legs momentarily turned to jelly and I dropped to my knees. When my dad saw this, he rushed to my side and offered assistance, but all I could do was to weep, uncontrollably. Being visibly shaken by my reaction, my dad pulled me toward him and kissed me on the forehead, while cradling my body in his soothing arms. He continued doing this until I regained my composure and hissed a breathless reply.

“I promise, Dad. I promise,” I agreed. “Thank you. Thank you. I love you so very much.”

“I love you too, son,” he replied, which meant a great deal to me, since he didn’t say this often.

Now that we had reached an agreement, we returned to Ryan’s house and announced our reconciliation. Everyone seemed genuinely happy and relieved by our announcement, so they all hugged us and offered their congratulations. Mrs. Anderson also winked at me and I knew she was thinking back to our prior conversation.

Once things began to settle down, I took Ryan and Peter aside, so we could discuss the implications of this turnabout.

“Rye, you know I still love you and this won’t change a thing for us,” I began, “but I’m going to go back and live with my parents again.”

“I know, Zach, and I’m happy for you,” he confessed. “We can continue on and do as we originally planned now.”

“Yes, but Peter and I will still keep in touch, so we can line up our college choices trilaterally,” I offered. “We’re still going to visit over both Christmas and the summer, and we’re all going to remain close as we prepare for the rest of our lives. Being gay, I don’t think anyone will try to pressure me into going to Bible College now, so I’ll be able to choose a new goal. We’ll write and call to keep in touch, so you will always be part of our lives. You will be my last thought before I go to sleep each evening and my first thought when I wake up.”

“Same here and I love you, Zach,” Ryan responded. “I’m sooo happy that things worked out for you.”

The three of us shared a group hug and cried heartfelt tears of joy. After many weeks of pain and heartache, my ordeal was nearly at an end. My father stayed with us during the last two days of our time here and chose to return home with Peter and me. Dad actually spent quite a bit of time talking to Peter and treated him even been than he did before Mom had caught us together in that compromising position.

On our final day there, Peter and I went over to the farm to pick up our final wages and thanked Mr. Johnson for letting us work there for the summer. When we got back to Ryan’s house, we packed up the last of our belongings and then Ryan’s parents drove us to the bus terminal. After saying our final goodbyes to each of them, we hopped on the bus to St. Louis and then took a cab to the airport. Our flight back was quite enjoyable and we had many pleasant conversations during the return trip. After landing, Dad retrieved his car from the long-term parking garage and drove us all home. We dropped Peter off at his house first and then continued on to ours.

When we arrived home, Mom came rushing out to greet us. She raced over to the passenger’s door first, as I was getting out of the car, and grabbed me in a tremendous embrace. We spent the next few minutes crying and kissing each other, while also exchanging assurances that everything was fine and back to normal. It was an emotional evening, with lots of tears, hugs and kisses, because we were once again a family. We were also safe in both the knowledge and comfort of each other’s love.

My father was true to his word and not only accepted me, but he also welcomed my friends into our home. This included Peter, even though he knew what we had done there before, but my mother had a bit of trouble looking Peter in the eye, since she had previously seen him naked. It didn’t seem to bother Peter as much as it did my mother, because her puritanical mores were too strong for her to fight against. This merely helped to remind me that I was still the son of a preacher man and his wife.

 

THE END.

Copyright © 2010 Bill W; All Rights Reserved.
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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. 
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