Searching for God - 1. Chapter 1

"There's no such thing as God. And it's assholes like you, believing that crap, that has caused all the problems in the world." Ernest raised his voice. The rant was directed at his son. "Religion is for the weak and weak-minded."

Steven stood at the edge of the gold-colored living room carpet. He stared furiously down at the floor. “But—”

“But nothing. I can’t stop you from going to church or whatever you want to do. But I’m not surprised you were lured in.” Ernest was seated on the sofa. He picked up the newspaper he’d been reading, shook it and held it up to continue reading. “You’re weak. Get out of my sight. Go to your room. When I come up there, that room better be clean. You know what’ll happen if it’s not.”

Blinking back tears of frustration, Steven climbed the stairs to his bedroom. I hate him. He never listens. He looked around the room. It was pretty tidy, but he folded his pajamas and put them neatly at the end of the bed. The young boy straightened his books and ensured all the collectible figures were put away on his shelves.

Knowing he’d be in trouble if he didn’t, Steven sat at his desk and opened his math homework. The young boy had nearly completed it when his father walked in.

Steven turned and watched his father searching for anything out of place. There’s nothing wrong. Go AWAY. I hate you. I HATE YOU!

His father moved to stand over his son. “What homework do you have?”

“Math and Geography, sir. I’m nearly finished both.”

“That’s a change. Maybe you’re finally learning.” Ernest looked down at the beige carpet. “What the hell is that?”

Steven’s throat closed involuntarily. He looked down. “I…I… don’t know, sir.”

“How can you not know? This is your filthy room. You wallow in it like a pig.” Ernest had bent closer to Steven; his words were an angry whisper. “Pick it up, boy.”

Steven saw a tiny brown thing on his carpet. Bending to retrieve it, he clung onto the desk for stability.

The boy examined the speck he'd picked up. It was a tiny pencil shaving. Steven stared at it. He looked at his father in horror. “I’m sorry. It must have come out when I sharpened my pencil.”

“Put that in trash where it belongs.” Ernest’s eyes turned dark. He undid his belt. “Now get your pants down.”

Steven dropped the tiny piece of wood into the garbage bin beside him. He didn’t move.

Ernest now held the thick brown belt in his hands. "Well?"

“No.”

Anger reached boiling inside Steven's father. "NO?" He grabbed his son's upper arm, bursting blood vessels as he did. He dragged the boy from the chair, shoving him roughly toward the bed.

Steven fell. His knees hit the floor while his upper body landed on the mattress.

“Get your pants down or else.” Ernest’s breath was shallow and ragged. “How dare you say no to me?”

“No. I’m nearly fourteen. I won’t let you anymore.”

Ernest smiled. “Is that right? We’ll see about that you rude, scheming brat. You will do as you’re told while under my roof.” He swung the belt, the buckle end flying, and beat his son. The battering stopped when the buckle opened the boy’s cheek. “Get a towel, you’re messing up the carpet.”

The bedroom door slammed as Ernest left.

Steven’s howl brought his mother up the stairs. She had just come in from work. “What is going on?” She met her husband on the landing. “Ernie what has happened?”

“Your son has a filthy mouth on him.” Ernest did up his belt.

“What did you do to him? If you’ve hurt him ….” Maureen moved toward Steven’s door.

Ernest took two steps toward his wife with clenched fists. “What, Maureen? What are you going to do?”

Glaring at her husband, she opened the door and saw the blood on her son’s shirt. Her only child sat on the bed with his pajamas pressed against his cheek. Tears rolled down his face leaving bloody streaks as they did. His breathing sounded more like hiccups.

Maureen knelt before him. “Let me see it.” She gingerly lifted the cotton shirt and peeked under it. “Oh god, we have to get you to the hospital. Hold that back on there baby.” Rising, Maureen pulled her cell from her pocket. “Ambulance please.”

Downstairs the front door slammed.

With the call completed, Maureen assisted her son down the stairs and into the kitchen. She helped with his shoes. “It’ll be all right, Stevie.” She got up and kissed her son’s head.

“Where is he, Mom?” Steven’s voice was a whisper.

“I don’t know and I don’t care right now.” She went to the closet and put on her jacket. “Come on baby. The ambulance will be here soon. We’ll get to the hospital and get everything fixed up.”

“I hate him, Mom.”

Maureen closed her eyes and held her son close. “I know, I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. I promise.”

***

"Mrs. Williams, what happened? This is the third time you've had your son here in two months." The social worker stood beside the worried mother as she watched her son's once-perfect face being stitched. "Please don't give me the usual lines. He slipped, or he's just a bit clumsy because I won’t believe you. It’s not going to work.”

Steven turned his head to look at them. His face was full of anguish.

His mother caught the look and turned to the social worker. “Can we speak alone please, Mr. Green?” Maureen stepped outside the cubicle.

“Sure.”

The pair moved several feet away. Maureen Williams felt frightened and angry. I’m just going to tell him. I’m not going to protect that monster any longer.

Maureen sighed. “It’s his father. He hit Stevie with his belt and though I didn’t see it, Stevie said that’s what cut his face.” She thought about the promise she’d made to Stevie. I meant what I said. He will not do this again, even if I have to kill him myself.

“Steven is covered in bruises. This was a beating.”

Maureen gazed at the social worker for a few moments. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “Yes, my husband beats him.”

Jason Green’s stomach clenched. “And what happens if you try to stop him? Does he hit you too?”

“He has in the past, yes.” Maureen thought about the baby she’d lost. The precious second child she’d begged Ernest to let her have. Then he killed it and nearly her in the process. Pushing that anguish away, Maureen said, “Tonight, I wasn’t at home. I’d just come in from work, I found Stevie like this and called for help immediately. I don’t know where my husband is right now.”

“Mrs. Williams, I can help you and Stevie if you are willing. Hospital staff called the police, there simply isn’t a choice in that.” Jason decided the woman was most likely telling him the truth. “I understand they found your husband at the bar up the street from your house.”

Maureen looked carefully at the young social worker. “Is he in jail?”

“He will be for a few hours only. If you decide to speak up, it could be longer. And we can get you a lawyer. The maximum sentence for assault causing bodily harm is ten years.”

Tears of relief ran down Maureen’s face. “What do I need to do?”

Jason offered his arm and a gentle smile. “Just come with me and we’ll get everything sorted out. Steven will have a police officer with him until we return. It won’t take too long.”

***

Maureen and Steven sat in court for Ernest’s sentencing. The judge had a huge streak of dislike for abusers of women and children, and he said so.

“Sadly, I’m only allowed to sentence you for the maximum which is ten years. While you’re in there, I’d recommend taking any course or group they offer for domestic abusers like yourself. You’re a sad excuse for a man, Mr. Williams.” The judge banged his gavel and looked at the Court Officer. “Take him away, please.”

After watching his father removed from the courtroom, Steven turned to his mother and hugged her. "We'll be safe now, right, Mom?"

“Yes, we will, Stevie. We’ll be safe.” Maureen held her son tight. “You know we’ll have to make some changes like I told you.”

“I remember.” Steven released his mom and sat up straighter. “Let’s go home.” The young man got to his feet and helped his mother up.

“I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go out for supper?” Maureen put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “We could go for chicken, or Italian, whatever you’d like.”

"Could we have pizza?" Stevie looked at his mother.

They'd just passed out of the courtroom and stood in the hall. "You know what? Why not. Fresh and hot, it'll be delicious."

“Yes!” Steven smiled broadly. “I love you, Mom.”

“Mrs. Williams!”

Maureen turned to see her lawyer, Karen Myers, and Jason Green, the social worker. “Oh, Karen, Jason. Thank you so much.”

Jason smiled and handed Maureen his card. “If you have any concerns or if I can help you, please call me.”

"Thank you." Maureen opened her brown patent leather handbag and put the card inside. "I just wanted to let you know, I am selling the house and we’ll be moving in with my parents. Should I let you know the address?” Steven’s mom looked at her lawyer and social worker.

“Yes, please give us the contact information when you have it, Maureen.” Karen replied. “We just need to know in case there are changes with your ex-husband.”

Maureen felt Steven tighten as he leaned into her. “What kind of changes?

Karen smiled. “Honestly, there’s likely not going to be anything. We just need to be able to get hold of you in the rare instance that it does.”

"All right. Well, I'll make sure I let both of you know the new information." Maureen reopened her purse, pulled out her phone, and made a note.

"Thank you. I hope this sentence can help you with healing. Take care, both of you." Karen shook hands with Maureen and then returned to the courtroom.

Jason watched the lawyer walk away. He turned back to the mother and son. “Well, take care of your mom, Stevie.”

“I will.” Steven remained pressed to his mother’s side.

“Good boy.” Jason smiled at the young man. “Maureen, I wish you only the best and happiness.”

“Thank you, Jason.” Maureen smiled at the younger man. “I appreciate all the help and support you provided.”

“My pleasure.”

“Well, thanks again and goodbye.” Maureen reached for Stevie’s hand. “Let’s go, honey.”

“Okay, Mom. Bye, Mr. Green.” Steven waved.

“Bye now.” Jason waved as his clients walked toward the nearest exit. He smiled as he turned away and returned to court for his next case.

***

Maureen and Stevie walked through the revolving door together. The mother gazed at her son. “Ready for pizza?”

Steven’s lips twisted to one side in a weird sort of smile. “Yep, but first can we go into that church?” He pointed across the street.

Maureen followed the pointing finger. “Yes, if you feel you want to, honey.”

“Yes, please.”

Maureen smiled, and they walked toward the traffic lights and the crosswalk.

The pair stood outside the old ornate building. After a moment, Steven grasped his mother's hand and led her up the stairs. "Come on, Mom."

“Okay. Stevie, why do you want to go in?” Maureen walked beside her son. “We’ve never been to church.”

“Sometimes I used to go into the church near our house.”

Maureen tugged Steven to a stop. “That’s a Presbyterian church, this one is Catholic.”

“Aren’t churches, God’s houses?”

“Yes, but there are different religions.”

Steven considered that for a moment. “Why if there is only one God?”

“I'm not really up on how or why there are different religions.”

“Mom, it doesn’t matter to me. Churches are nice and quiet and I like to go into them and listen.” Steven smiled and walked toward the door. “Come on, Mom.”

Once in the vestibule, Steven looked at the elaborate interior. “Wow, Mom, this is amazing. Can we go up to the front?”

As they walked on, Maureen was uncomfortable, but she said, "I'll just sit here. You go up and look. Just don't touch things, okay?"

“Okay, Mom.” Steven smiled. He walked slowly up the center aisle. It’s so nice and quiet here. He continued his journey through the nave until he reached the altar. Ahead of him a large crucifix hung. Steven gazed up at Jesus.

Lord? You died for our sins. Why would you do that? Steven stared upward and whispered, "Why, when we never stop sinning?"

The young boy waited for several minutes and then turned around. He slowly walked back to his mother. “I’m ready to go, Mom.”

“All right, sweetheart.”

Once seated in the restaurant, Maureen ordered drinks and the pizza she and Steven had chosen to share. She gazed at her sweet young son. "Honey, why did you want to visit the church?"

Steven ran a finger through the ring of condensation on the table. “Is it wrong, Mom?”

“No, honey. It’s not wrong. I’m just curious.” Maureen sipped her water. “I mean we’ve never been to church at all. You weren’t even baptized. Your father didn’t believe in any of that—”

“It’s assholes like you who believe in religion who caused all the world’s problems. It’s for the weak. It’s a crutch.”

Maureen glanced around them. “Steven! Shhh. Not so loud. People can hear—”

"It's what Dad said. He said I was weak." Steven sat quietly and returned his mother's gaze. He opened his mouth and closed it several times before answering his mother. "I like to go in to listen."

I better tread carefully here. “Listen to who, honey?”

“The voices. Like Jesus and the still small voice.”

“Jesus speaks to you?” Maureen looked up and saw their server arrive with their salads. “Thank you,” she said when the young man placed them on the table.

“Not so far. The small voice does sometimes. He wants me to know things.”

“What kind of things?” Maureen stabbed the crisp romaine lettuce in her bowl.

“He said that he’s watching and that it’s not by his power and might that we’ll know him but through his spirit.”

Maureen’s fork stopped in mid-air. “Did you read that somewhere, Stevie?”

“No. I told you it’s the still small voice.” Steven gazed up at his mother and smiled. “Oh, look! Here’s the pizza.”

While they ate, Steven talked about school and running on the cross-country team. He told his mom about the annual eighth grade class trip. “So, we’d stay overnight for a couple of days. We’d see the government buildings and the Nature Museum and the History Museum, plus there’s a tour of the city. Can I go, Mom?”

“I don’t see why not.” Maureen smiled at her son.

Steven smiled broadly. “I’ll check online and see where there’s a church that maybe I can visit during spare time.”

What is going on? He's never wanted to visit churches or talk about religion. “Sweetheart, can I ask why you’re so interested in religion?”

After dipping his last crust in the honey garlic dip, Steven answered, “I’m not.”

“Then why all the visits to churches?”

“I can hear the small voice better in a church. It doesn’t matter about the religion.” Steven chewed the crust. “But I’m thinking about the Episcopal Church. It seems nice there.”

“Thinking about it?”

“Yes, I think it would be neat to be a priest or whatever they have there.”

Maureen sat back. She’d never seen this coming. Not even a little bit. But what can I do? What should I do? She smiled at her son. “Well, you’ve got a long time to make that decision, honey.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I like them because they don’t hate people who are different. They like people like me too.”

Maureen swallowed what felt like a scream climbing up from her gut. “What do you mean by that?”

Steven looked at his mother and smiled. “People like me. Gay people.”

***

Several years later…

Steven stood gazing into the mirror. He'd wet his beard and now added shaving soap. He carefully shaved around his scar. Nothing grew there, but he had to watch being too rough, or else it would start to bleed.

“Stevie babe are you going to be long?”

Steve pushed the brush over his face. “I’m shaving. Come in here and talk.”

"Okies." Ian looked around the door jamb into where his boyfriend stood, scraping his face. "Look, Jim and Thomas are asking when they can come over."

Steven raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ian. “What?”

“Geez. We spoke about this.”

I hate when he does this to me. Steven watched his boyfriend scowling. “Did we? If we did then I guess you know I’m not interested in screwing your friends.”

Ian huffed and sighed. “You know what? I think we’re finished. You don’t like screwing at all. You’re a freak Steven. I think you should go.”

After splashing water up to rinse his face, Steven dried it. He peered at Ian. “I think you’re right. Goodbye, Ian.”

The young man didn’t listen to the ranting of his ex-boyfriend. He pulled on his jacket and went to work.

***

Later that night, Steven sat at the dining room table with Maureen.

“Are you seeing Ian tonight honey?”

“No, Mom. We broke up this morning.”

Maureen gazed at her grown child. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie.”

Steven picked up a few strands of spaghetti on his fork, and then, holding the fork against a spoon, he twirled the pasta around the utensil. "It's okay. He's not the right person for me."

“Why?”

“Do you really want to know that, Mom?” Steven put the pasta into his mouth and chewed. He smiled. “Mmmm. That’s so good.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Maureen hesitated for a moment. “Well, yes, if it’s not too graphic.”

He started the twirling process again before he chose to reply. “Ian likes to have sex with multiple partners, like a foursome. I’m not interested in that sort of thing for myself.”

Oh, thank God. “I see. Then I suppose it’s for the best.”

Grinning, Steven said, “Yep. I’m fine with it. I wasn’t right for him either.”

“So, what will you do?”

“Oh, I’ll keep going to the church meetings and that. See my other friends, do stuff around the city. Having a boyfriend isn’t very important to me.”

“Would you like some more water, honey?”

“No, thank you.” Maureen’s son gazed at his mother. “I can tell you’re worried, Mom. You think I’m looney. Ma, you know you are. You have a gay son. Now you have a gay son who doesn’t like sex. It’s not so weird as you think.”

Maureen smiled. “Isn’t it?”

“Nope, not if you’re honest with yourself. I know I’m not like most guys. Sex on the brain, while I’d rather sit in a quiet church.” Steven ate some salad. "Please don't worry. I asked Joan, and she said it's possible I'm asexual, or I just haven't met the right person." Steven sat back, picked up his water glass, and drank. "I don't think I'm asexual. I think I'd like it if I find the right guy."

“I’m glad you’re talking to Joan about it. If your therapist doesn’t know, I’m not going to.”

“Sometimes Joan says I could be on some kind of spectrum.”

“Like the autism spectrum?” Maureen blinked.

“Maybe. But whatever it is, I’m okay, Mom. I’m happy as I am. I have a few friends, a good job and the best mother anyone could ask for.”

Maureen reached for her son’s hand and smiled. “I’m glad you’re happy. Just do me a favor and eat something other than pizza and spaghetti.”

Steven just grinned as he twirled his next forkful.

***

Six months later …

Steven ran through the rain. He stopped at the hot dog seller, who had the last shelter before the church. “Hi. D’ya mind if I hide here while the rain slows?” The soaked young man wiped the wet from his face. “I’m Steve.”

Giorgio smiled. “Sure, you can stand here with me.” The merchant stared upward. “Not so sure this rain is gonna slow down. I’m Giorgio.”

Steven returned the smile.

The pair stood and watched the deluge in silence for several minutes.

“I see you go to the church often but never to a service. How come?”

Steven looked at the food vendor. “I’m not religious. I just like the silence and I can hear so much in there.”

“Is that right. Huh, interesting.” Giorgio lifted the lid of the steamer. “I’m not gonna sell much today. Hey, you want a dog?”

The smell of the hot sausage made Steven’s mouth water. “Yes, please. They smell great.”

“I’ll only charge a dollar, how’s that?” Giorgio fixed the hot dog for his customer.

“Oh, thanks.” Steven dug in his pocket for money. He pulled out a couple of dollars. “Is this enough for a drink too?” He handed the money over.

“Sure. Thanks.” Giorgio gave Steven the food. “Condiments are right there.”

Once Steven had fixed his dog to perfection, he bit into it. He looked up at the large umbrella that protected them. He turned to Giorgio. “Rainbow.” Steven pointed upward.

“Yeah.” Giorgio grinned. “Perfect day for one.”

Still chewing, Steven moved closer to peer at the hot dog seller’s collar. “Oh, a Pride button. You’re Gay?”

“Yeah.” Giorgio felt his guard going up. Shit, not today.

“I’m Gay too.”

Relief flooded through the hot dog purveyor. He smiled.

Giorgio and Steven often spoke under the rainbow umbrella. They'd become friends of a sort but never saw each other outside of these weekday visits. One day Giorgio decided to try to take their relationship further.

“Steve? Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure, Gio. What’s up?” Steven put aside the copy of the local paper he’d been reading.

Giorgio smiled and moved closer. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I was wondering how you’d feel about maybe going out to dinner with me. Like a date?” Giorgio’s heart pounded.

“Do you mean like a romantic dinner and sex after?”

Giorgio frowned. "Well … I meant dinner." He paused momentarily and said, "Do you want to have sex?"

“No. I’m not really into sex. I think you should know that like upfront.”

He looks so serious! “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. Thing is it’s a bit early to worry about sex. I’d like to know you better first.”

Steven sighed in relief. “So, when?”

“I was thinking Friday night? I can meet you outside your office and we could walk to this great Italian place I know.”

“That sounds perfect.”

***

Several weeks later…

Giorgio stood by his stove and gently stirred a pot of spaghetti sauce. “This is Mama’s recipe. I think you’ll enjoy it, Stevie.”

Steven stood next to his now-boyfriend. He sliced a loaf of Pane Toscano. “Oh, this smells amazing.”

“It’s wonderful bread.” Giorgio smiled. “I’m looking forward to this meal. Will you have a small glass of wine?”

“I will, I think. It will make this evening perfect.”

“It will, indeed.”

After dinner, the pair sat on the sage green sofa. Giorgio slid his arm around Steven's shoulders. Steven stiffened for a moment and then relaxed into his boyfriend.

“You feel good, Stevie?”

“I do.”

Giorgio dreaded what he’d planned for a few weeks to say next. “Will you stay over?”

Steven sat up quickly and moved three inches to his left.

“Steven. Please we need to talk about this. About us.” Giorgio turned to face the frightened man next to him. “Please. Please tell me what frightens you so?”

“Gio. I told you what happened with Ian.”

“Yes, you did. But I am not Ian. I don’t want multiple partners, or sex all the time. I want you. However you are, we’ll figure it out.”

Steven gazed at Giorgio’s handsome face with his sad eyes. “But you want me to stay and have sex now.”

Giorgio sighed. “I want you to stay. I want to kiss you and hold you and sure, if it goes farther, that’s good. If it doesn’t go farther, that’s also good. As long as you are here with me.”

“Do you really mean that?”

Gio reached for Steven’s hand and held it. “Yes. I mean that. To me sex is wonderful, it's a physical expression of how I feel about someone. You. But I also know you have strong feelings and reservations." Gio tugged on the hand he held. "I respect that and I can live with it until the day comes when you are ready. But I do want you here with me, my love."

Steven sat quietly. He looked down at Gio's strong hands and squeezed the one that held his own. "I'll stay. But I need to know if there's a church around here. I haven't seen one the few times I’ve come here."

Gio smiled broadly. Churches again. “There’s one not far. I’ll take you there tomorrow. Tell me something, Stevie. Why do you go into churches? I know you told me once you like the quiet. But why?”

After gazing at Giorgio for a moment, Steven dropped his eyes. “I go because it’s quiet. Because I want to be nearer to God. God is supposed to love everyone. Not many people seem to love me.”

Giorgio felt tears well. “Oh, my love. If you want to know God truly then you must live the life He gave to you. You must be who you are. When you do, you will see and hear God always. In the bird’s song, in children’s laughter and tears and you will know it when I hold you in my arms. God does not live in churches; He lives in us every day.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes, my love. I believe that with all my heart.”

Steven smiled. “Do you think God thinks we should have sex?”

Giorgio got to his feet and pulled Steven up. “Come on. Let’s go snuggle up in bed and we’ll see what happens next.”

They walked together across the living room. Steven never stopped talking. “Do you think He watches? I mean that’s just wrong.”

Laughing, Giorgio guided Steven to the bedroom. “No, Stevie, I do not think God is a peeping tom!”

“Maybe he just listens then.”

“No, not that either.” Giorgio closed the door.

The next morning, Giorgio and Steven went to church. Giorgio sat quietly while Steven walked up to the front of the church and gazed up at the crucifix. A few minutes later, he walked back to Giorgio. They left together quietly.

As they returned to his apartment, Giorgio asked, "So, did God talk to you?"

The birds sang, and the breeze carried the scent of lilacs and roses. Steven held his boyfriend's hand. He swung their linked hands between them. He shook his head.

“No. But I told him I wouldn’t be visiting so much anymore. At least for a while.”

“Really? Until when?”

Steven stopped and pulled Giorgio to a halt as well. "Well, not until the day we get married there."

“Married?”

“Well, yes of course. Then we can have proper legal sex.”

"Of course. We could just have practice sex till then. Right?" Giorgio was rooted to the spot while Steven walked on. "Wait. I'm coming."