A Soldier's Guide to Single Parenting - 8. The Preacher

That night Simon slept downstairs on the couch and I managed to stay sober enough to get some semblance of a good night’s sleep. It was enough to get me to work on time but by the afternoon, I was flagging.

I was tempted to go to the bar after work but a shortage of cash and the prospect of David and Simon being indoors without my supervision was enough to send me home. If I needed another incentive, Simon provided it with a good meatloaf and the promise of homemade hamburgers the following day.

My stomach decided to allow Simon to stay at least until the weekend on the proviso he would talk to the social worker when she called. I still wasn’t convinced she would be much help, but after what Simon told me about the religion it seemed like the only way forward.

After dinner, I sat down to call Darcy. He needed to know Simon was okay. His response was predictably blunt.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll come get him.”

“Simon doesn’t want to go home just yet. He’s asked me if he can stay here for a few days. I just wanted you to know he’s safe.”

“I want my son back here where he belongs. I already told you he’s not allowed in your house and he’s not to have any contact with David. You can bring him here or I’ll come to you. You have no right to keep him from me.”

I wasn’t sure where I stood legally but I wasn’t prepared to hand him over without a fight.

“He’s scared of you, Darcy. He wants to stay here and I’ve agreed. You should call the police if you think I’m breaking the law.”

“Let me speak to him?”

“He’s not here. He’s outside in the yard.”

“Will you please bring him to the phone? I haven’t talked to my son in almost two weeks. I need to know that he’s okay.” It seemed like a reasonable enough request and I covered the mouthpiece and asked Suzanne if she could fetch him.

“He’ll be here in a minute.”

“I want you to understand that this isn’t anything personal but I have to protect my son. He’s been baptized. It’s wrong for him to see your son in this way.”

“You don’t need to worry; your son is perfectly safe.”

I glanced up to see a confused looking Simon standing between Suzanne and David. He stepped forward to take the phone from me and lifted it cautiously to his ear.

“What do you want?” There was a long pause and I couldn’t hear what his dad was saying. “But I want to stay here for a few days.” He looked at me and bit his lip. “No, I don’t want to.”

I strained to hear Darcy’s voice but Simon’s expression and the way he spoke was indication it wasn’t going too well. “Let me talk to him,” I said gesturing to Simon who was already distraught.

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT! LEAVE ME ALONE. YOU'RE CRAZY!” I grabbed the phone off him as David comforted his friend.

“Darcy, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“Good. Now listen to me. I’m coming over now to get Simon’s clothes. Have them ready for me.” I slammed the phone down and muttered under my breath. “I’m coming to get you, Darcy.”

When I looked up, Jon was standing in front of me pointing two fingers at his head to mimic a gun being fired. He must have thought I was some kind of assassin.

*     *     *

I nearly ran over poor Fred as I backed out the driveway and on to his lawn. I was too busy thinking about what I was going to say to Darcy to notice my elderly neighbor behind me. He was a top class athlete in his day; a middle distance runner who had made the US Olympic team in Helsinki or some other foreign place. All that training may have come in useful that day as he leapt out of the way like a sprightly teenager. I would apologize to him when I got back. I needed to get to Darcy’s house before my temper wore off.

It was starting to rain as I parked outside the small wooden framed house and knocked on the window. He opened the door and spoke to me through the screen

“What do you want?”

“I told you over the phone. I’ve come for Simon’s clothes.”

Darcy hadn’t changed much in the years since I had last seen him. He was slightly taller than me but thinner and with less hair and a distinctive Roman nose.

“You have no right to keep my son from me.”

“I’m not keeping him from you. He asked me if he could stay. It’s his choice. He’s sixteen, you should respect his decision.”

“His decision? He’s no more than a boy. He doesn’t know what’s good for him. He’s confused, Mr. Sykes. He needs help.”

At last, we found something to agree upon. Simon needed help alright, just not the type of help Darcy had in mind. His father was obstinate and not the type of man who could be easily swayed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I decided to change tactics.

“Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. We need to talk, can I come in for a minute?”

He viewed me with suspicion before reluctantly standing to one side and opening the screen door. At last I could see him clearly, although it wasn’t a pretty sight. He looked better partially obscured by mesh.

“Come in. We can talk in the living room.” As he closed the door behind us I had a quick look around. The house badly needed decorating and a good clean. There was a damp musky smell. As I followed him into the living room, he stopped me. “We don’t wear shoes in the house, Mr. Sykes.”

“Hmmm, yes. Sorry.” I slipped them off and left them at the door. I would normally have done that if walking into a carpeted house but Darcy’s floors were all polished floorboards that looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in years; the rug he had in the living room by the fireplace was threadbare and stained.

I wasn’t comfortable in that house at all and he may have noticed my unease as I sat down on an old well-worn, leather couch.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said and I could have sworn it was a joke. I had never been more uncomfortable in my life. “Can I get you a drink?”

I was certain that his idea of a drink was a lot different from what I had in mind but my expression was enough for him to clarify.

“I have beer, or bourbon if you prefer?”

That spooked me; it was no coincidence. He had done his homework and knew a bit about me. It made me even more wary. Maybe I had underestimated this guy?

I declined his offer no matter how tempting and stuck to the plan. He was being much friendlier but not very accommodating.

“I’m not going to give you any of my son’s clothes. I want him to come home and that would only encourage him to stay away.”

It made sense. However, Simon’s clothing wasn’t the only reason for my visit and we both knew that. I wanted to know why the kid was so scared of going back there and was looking for any evidence I could find to build a case against Darcy.

Had it been me in Simon’s shoes, I would never have gone back—there was something not right about that house. It felt more like a church than a home. The pictures didn’t help; they were on every wall. Tacky prints of famous paintings which I’d seen before. Christ, the last supper, and the crucifixion. They were too large for such a small room and overbearing. I could see why Simon preferred to stay with us, even before the argument with his old man. It was a subject I was keen to discuss and diplomacy was never my strong point.

“Why is Simon so scared of you?”

“Are you accusing me of hurting my child?”

“He’s been hurt before and he was injured when he came to my house. That’s why I took him in.”

“You took him in so that your son could violate him.”

I was shocked and stood up to meet his accusation face to face.

“Wait a minute. You're outta line here buddy.” I pointed my finger into his chest. “My son wasn’t the one who started this.” Usually when I became aggressive the other person would back down so I was surprised when Darcy didn’t move and held my stare.

“Don’t threaten me. I won't be intimidated by the likes of you. You need to talk to your son and get your facts right before shooting your mouth off.”

I backed off with the sudden realization maybe Simon wasn’t the instigator. I had only assumed this to be the case. I put it in the back of my mind for the time being, but it was clear Darcy was better prepared for our little meeting.

“I’m not threatening you. I came here to find out why Simon is so scared of coming back and you haven’t answered my question.”

“If you have time, I will explain,” he said. “We should sit down and talk, not fight each other.”

I agreed and accepted his offer of coffee. It gave me an opportunity to have a quick look around while he was in the kitchen.

Above the fireplace hung an ornamental sword. The kind of thing you would expect a Japanese Samurai to carry. I had seen plenty of these in Vietnam and it caught my eye the moment I walked in. I thought it was a strange thing to have on display surrounded by religious paintings and books and was studying it when he returned.

“This is interesting. The Japanese army used these to decapitate people. What do you use it for?”

“It’s an ornament, Mr. Sykes.”

“Of course.”

“Do you want to know why I hit my son the night he left here?”

I nodded and sat back down with my coffee. The cup was dirty and chipped and I decided not to drink from it.

“We were at a bible study that evening. Simon asked me on the way home if David could stay over and I agreed. Your son arrived at about nine o’clock and they were allowed to stay up late to watch the game.”

I must have looked surprised and this brought a slight smile out of him I recognized from Simon.

“We don’t live in the dark ages, you know. We’re allowed to follow sports teams like anyone else. Anyway, I woke up that night with a headache and was surprised to see the light still on in his room. That’s when I found them together.” I waited for him to finish, expecting him to say more.

“Together?”

“Yes, together, like man and wife.”

It was worse than I was expecting. Something I didn’t really want to know about but had to ask.

“So they were…?”

“They were kissing Mr. Sykes.” He remained poker faced and I was confused.

“Kissing?”

“Yes, on the lips.” I nearly laughed and not just out of relief but the whole thing was kind of funny.

“That’s terrible. But is that it? I thought you meant they were…”

“Isn’t that enough? They were holding each other like a man holds his wife. You may not see much wrong in that but I can assure you there is.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. This guy was a genuine fruit cake for sure. He had walked unannounced into his son’s bedroom and discovered David and Simon kissing and hugging each other. I had been expecting to hear much worse and wasn’t sure if should feel relieved or angry at him for wasting my time. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of two boys kissing either but it was hardly an act of sexual depravity, it certainly didn’t warrant a punch in the face.

“We don’t believe in homosexuality, it’s wrong.” He had a bible in his hands and began looking up scriptures to back up his claim.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t agree with it either.”

“Then why are you allowing it in your house? Why don’t you send Simon home where I can help him?”

“Help him to do what?”

“Make him normal. The way that God intended him to be.”

“You think you're able to do that by beating him or sending him off to some camp?”

“I can see that Simon has been talking to you.”

“Why shouldn’t he?”

“Let me explain. There are occasions when a parent has to punish a child. To keep him or her away from temptation. It’s not bad. I was punished as a child and I still loved my parents. I grew up strong and wanting to serve God. It’s the only way.”

It sounded crazy to me. “Why don’t you sit down and talk to him?”

“What good would that do. Look, you should know how important it is to have rules, you were in the army. You waged war on a people because they had different views.”

“I fought to stop the spread of communism.”

“Then why didn’t you just sit down and talk to them. Instead of going to war?”

“Because sometimes you have to use military force. I know what you're trying to say but that’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, you can’t compare going to war to raising your kids. And I don’t believe in using violence against children, not for any reason.”

“It’s not violence, it’s discipline. Teaching your children right from wrong. Homosexuality is a choice. Simon wasn’t born like that and neither was David. They’re misleading you.”

“I don’t know so much. I used to think the same… Lately I’m not sure.”

“You're allowing yourself to be fooled. It’s what they want you to believe. It’s part of Satan’s plan to corrupt God-fearing families. I will do whatever I must do to stop them. The rewards for siding with God are plentiful. Everlasting life in a paradise.”

“Does Simon believe this?”

“Yes, absolutely he does.”

“He believes in an everlasting life in paradise?”

“Yes. I can show you the scriptures.”

“And he knows that by doing these things. Kissing another boy for example. He will be giving up the chance of everlasting life?”

“He will die along with everyone else and will remain dead. He will not be resurrected into God’s new kingdom.”

I thought about it for a minute and it just didn’t add up.

“He’s willing to give up all of that to be with another boy? That’s crazy. No one would do that out of choice.” I stood up and handed him his still full cup. “I’m glad I came here today. You’ve helped me sort a few things out.”

He watched me walk to the door. “I want my son back!”

I stopped, turned, and looked him in the eye. “No. He’s staying with me.”

I kept one eye on him as I slipped on my shoes and walked out to a barrage of abuse.

“I don’t have to explain our ways to you. If you think that I’ve acted outside the law by punishing my son, then you should go to the police and tell them. You have no authority here.”

“And where does your authority come from, the maker himself? Does he tell you to beat your child?” Darcy looked horrified.

“You’ll pay for your blasphemy, Sykes.”

I did my best to ignore him only to panic when I saw him reach behind his back. My army training would never leave me. It was exactly what someone would do if they had a weapon concealed under their waistband and was about to use it. I couldn’t help but flinch and without even thinking I reached for my own weapon which, of course, wasn’t there.

I had heard all kinds of stories about these people and I chided myself for not being more cautious. I had gone to his house on the spur of the moment, hot-headed, unprepared, and without any back up. In the military, this was an easy way to get yourself killed. It wouldn’t happen again.

*     *     *

That night, I stayed up late thinking about our conversation. Darcy believed Simon had been tempted into immorality by David. It was the exact opposite to what I believed. We blamed one another for turning our sons gay but it was likely we had both reached the wrong conclusion. Maybe I was missing something; I couldn’t understand why anyone would deliberately surrender the opportunity of everlasting life in a paradise for the sake of trying it with a guy. That was a hefty price to ask for what was likely to be a few adolescent fumbles with your best pal. For Simon—a boy who had been indoctrinated from birth—to choose this and forfeit the chance to live forever, just didn’t add up.

The conclusion was simple. Darcy was wrong. His religion was wrong and so was I. The evidence was indisputable and although I hated to admit it, Todd and Suzanne were right. Simon didn’t choose to be different, why the hell would he? He had to have been born that way and therefore so was David. To believe anything else now was just plain folly.

That simple admission turned everything on its head and the implications were enormous. I still hung on to the belief what they were doing was somehow wrong but they weren’t to blame. It wasn’t their fault.

It opened the door to other possibilities. Could a man love another man in the same way he could love a woman? I always believed homosexuals were in it purely for sex but talking to Simon had cast a serious doubt on this theory. Was Simon in love with my son? Was that possible? I opened my last bottle of bourbon contemplating what now seemed like a probability and ended the night sprawled across the desk.

*     *     *

“You're staying to watch, right?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna park and I’ll be in the bleachers.” Jon jumped out of the car with an extra spring in his step that evening with the knowledge that I would be cheering him on. He made sure to keep checking for me when he came out to bat and had a couple of hits and batted in an early run.

I sat there for close to three hours but my mind wasn’t entirely on the game. Earlier, I had instructed Suzanne not to allow Simon and David any time alone and made it clear to the boys that they weren’t allowed in David’s room. It was ridiculous but it gave me some kind of peace of mind and instead of arguing or sulking they took the sensible option and played along with me. It made a lot more sense; I just needed to be kept happy while I came to terms with my shifting views. I no longer regarded Simon as a bad influence or as a possible threat to the family but as a victim of a religion that had clearly indoctrinated its followers who were prepared to die for their beliefs.

All the time I was sipping from a hip flask; I couldn’t think straight anymore without that stuff in my body. Just the thought of not having any alcohol available was enough to scare the hell out of me so I kept some on me or near me all the time. I even had a small bottle in the glovebox of the car and halfway through the eighth inning, when my hip-flask was dry I had to go to the car to get it.

Jon found me after the game asleep in the front seat of the car with the empty half-bottle on the seat beside me. We were the only car remaining in the parking lot. I was too drunk to drive home so Jon had to find a phone and call Todd, who dutifully came to give us a ride. It was two days before Jon would talk to me after that and the next morning I went back to work on the ‘T’.

*     *     *

“I’m not sure where you stand legally,” said Sandra when we talked at lunchtime. “Technically, he’s a runaway, I suppose. He should be with his father.”

“He’s scared of his father.”

“Is he in real danger?”

“His father is a madman, I know it.”

“But he’s the kid’s lawful guardian, even the police have to get some kind of court order to take him away from his parents. What happened to his mother anyway?”

“I dunno, nobody ever mentions her. As far as I know its just Simon and his dad living in that house.”

“You're gonna have to take him back, Jeff. If he’s sixteen, then he’s old enough to fend for himself. Or call the police if his dad gets too much.”

Sandra meant well but she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, probably because I didn’t tell her the whole truth. She wanted to help me though and we ended up taking our discussion to Mario’s bar after work.

“You never talk about yourself. You know, what you like to do when you're not at work or looking after your kids.”

I laughed. “That’s because I don’t do anything else, apart from sitting in this bar every other day.”

“Maybe you should think of yourself more, have a little fun other than drinking your life away.”

“How do you mean?”

“Come on Jeff, you're not old. You're allowed to have a life, you know? You can’t grieve forever. Kate would have wanted you to move on.”

I should have realized what she meant but up until then, I honestly hadn’t even considered the possibility of meeting someone else. She was right of course; I was single again even though it didn’t feel that way. I couldn’t remember the last time I had sex. It would have been the last time Kate and I did it over a year ago, before she was sick. I never realized I would be back on the market again and I wasn’t sure I was even ready for it.

“I want to move on. I’ve just forgotten how.”

She covered my hand with hers and smiled. “Baby steps, you know? It can be fun learning again.”

“And are you offering to help or is this just good advice to a friend?”

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” She couldn’t have made it any more obvious if she tried but it was the only way that she was going to get through my defences and we decided that night to give it a try. Like she said, baby steps. It was fun learning again.

So much for fucking baby steps. It was ten o’clock the next morning when I fell out of Sandra’s bed and hit my head on the nightstand. I needed to get home; I had to see the kids and take Jon to practice but first I had to find my clothes.

Sandra was still asleep so I called home from her phone and spoke to Jon.

“I can’t get to you in time to take you to practice. Can you get a ride with someone?”

“I’ve already asked the coach.” They were the first words that he had spoken to me since the baseball game but he didn’t sound as if he had forgiven me and he didn’t bother to say goodbye before handing the phone to his sister.

“Dad, where are you? I’ve been worried sick.”

“It’s okay, Suzy. I’m fine, I just…just couldn’t get home last night that’s all. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“I thought you had got drunk and fallen over or something. You could have been lying in a gutter someplace.” She was crying.

“I’m sorry, baby. I should have called. I know.”

“It doesn’t matter. This can’t go on like this. I can’t cope. The electricity company cut off the power. We have no lights. We can’t use the washing machine. The refrigerator isn’t working but that doesn’t matter because there’s no food in the house anyway. Bobby’s hungry and all you can do is spend your money on booze every day.”

“Suzanne. Shit! Look, I’ll be back soon. I’ll sort it out. I’ll call the electricity people.”

“It’s too late, Dad. I’m taking Bobby to Todd’s house and Jon’s going there after his game. You need to get some help. You're not well but it’s not fair on us. I’m sorry.”

“Suzanne, wait….” She hung up on me.

My daughter made me feel like the worst parent ever, an honor that maybe only Darcy could compete with me for. I knew I had to change but I had no idea how.

It was a mistake to spend the night with Sandra. I should have been home with my kids. She was quick to point to my mistakes.

“You’re taking on too much. Trying to be a mom and dad at the same time. Something has to give.” She was right but she didn’t know all the facts and I got the feeling she was trying out for a position that wasn’t yet available. My guilt was multiplied when I brought Kate into the equation. I had cheated on her, betrayed her even. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Too much, too soon. I blamed it on the drink but I needed another before heading home that day.

I was gradually losing my kids. They no longer had any respect for me and I could see why. It’s difficult to have any respect for a person who is in a constant state of inebriation or to believe in someone who rarely, if ever, kept his word. My shortcomings were clear for all to see, bottled and wrapped up in a brown paper bag. Yet I wasn’t ashamed enough to stop.

*     *     *

I was drunk on the way home and fell asleep on the “T” missing my stop. I wondered what Sandra saw in me. I was a wreck. An alcoholic fool who could hardly stand upright in the middle of the day. The type of person who even young kids would pity. Their mothers dragging them away from me in case I turned violent or threw up over them.

It was late in the afternoon when I finally arrived home, stumbling uneasily across the front lawn. Ahead of me, sitting defiantly in front of the door was next door’s cat. My pesky feline foe was in the mood for a fight.

“What the fuck do you want?”

He looked at me with contempt and hissed a warning before running away.

The house was unusually quiet. I had been dreading that moment walking into an empty place. Even the dog had gone. I suppose he had to eat too. My home, which for so many years had been such a happy place, was now empty and lifeless. It reminded me of Darcy’s house and that thought made me shiver.

It was the culmination of a slide that started before Christmas when Kate died. I thought I would be able to cope but the size of the task had ultimately proved too much for one person. I had been swimming against the tide ever since in the knowledge that I would inevitably fail.

I punched the table in frustration, then paced the room. I was hot and frustrated. There was no food and when I checked my pockets I had only a couple of bucks. Not enough to go shopping or buy what I needed.

David would have some money on him when he got home from work. Enough for some food. Suzanne hadn’t mentioned him or Simon so I assumed they hadn’t moved out as well. Todd lived in an apartment with only one spare room so he wouldn’t be able to have the whole family living there. When I looked in David’s room, his stuff was still there. It was a Saturday; he would be working late and Simon was probably with him.

I traipsed around the house looking in my secret hiding places but each one was empty, even the desk was bone dry. The moment I realized there was nothing to drink, it began to hurt. Frustration manifested into anger which turned quickly to violence. I hated myself and vented my hatred on whatever I could find in my way. Chairs were thrown around the room, I ripped a cupboard off the wall, and even ripped the bathroom door off its hinges when it wouldn’t open straight away.

After trashing the house, I sat in the corner and faced a situation I had been avoiding for a long time. I was becoming sober.