“I used to want to be a priest,” Ross was saying, “but now I don’t know if it’s for me.”
“You’ve got too many opinions,” Michael Branch said, flatly. “It’s definitely not for you.”
“But you have opinions,” Anigel argued. “You always did.”
She remembered Father Branch from high school, when he would come over to Rosary and say Mass or teach classes, and she was sure he hadn’t changed.
“Yes,” the middle aged priest agreed, “and many of them I’ve had to shut the hell up on.”
They were in the kitchen smoking, and Father Branch leaned in and pulled some more meat from the ham sitting on the island.
“Good thing no dogs are in here,” he remarked.
“When I came to the Church it was in a time when we thought things were going to change, and they did change,” Michael Branch said, “but not in any way that mattered. I’ve had to reconcile myself to that. And sense I didn’t come to be a priest, since I came to be a brother and the priesthood thing just ended up happening, it was easier for me to reconcile myself to some things.”
He looked at his nephew, “I don’t think it would be so easy for you.”
Anigel said, “So Ross shouldn’t be a priest?”
“Neither of us thinks that anymore,” Ross said.
“But what if he was a monk?”
They both looked at Anigel.
“Really,” she said, “what I wondered was, what about me?”
“You definitely can’t be a monk,” Michael Branch said.
“I meant a nun,” Anigel said. “And you knew it.”
“I knew it,” he said, “but I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Can you believe it?” she said to Ross.
“I’ve known you my whole life. Of course I can believe it.”
“I want a different kind of life,” she said. “I don’t really care about men. I mean, I do, but I don’t. But… I don’t want my life to be about that. There’s something in me, being me, me not with someone else, but me with myself, trying to be the best… no, the most I can… I think I would like that. I’m not holy or anything, and I feel cheap and stupid saying I love God. I want God. I want Him, and I don’t even really know what he is, or if I believe in Him. But I want Him.”
They had gone quiet. Their cigarettes burning idly, and they could barely hear the conversation in the next room.
“It’s like that verse I heard at church. I don’t remember much else but hearing it,” Anigel said, “And I thought… that’s me. That’s me. Where Saint Paul says, ‘Your life is hidden in Christ.’ I want my life. And somehow it is bound up in wanting God. I… can’t explain.”
“I think you have explained,” Father Branch said. “And… I think you have an eavesdropper.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Russell said.
“I’m just teasing you,” said the priest, “And it’s your house, so…” he shrugged.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Or overhear,” Russell said. “What you said was beautiful, Ani. It’s… I thought it was the way I felt. Only I don’t know how I feel anymore.”
“I don’t know how I feel from day to day,” Anigel said. “Did you want some food?”
“That’s not why I came down,” Russell shook his head.
“I came to talk to you,” he said to Father Branch.
“Oh?”
“That’s our sign,” Ross said, standing up, and holding his hand for Anigel, “to get the fuck out.”
“Language?” Michael Branch threw out his hands.
“Scuse me, Unc,” said Ross, “I meant get the HELL out.”
Ross and Anigel headed up the back stair, Ross snagging a plate of rolls, and Russell sat down across from the art teacher and the man who ran his school.
“I’m gay,” Russell said.
“Oh,” Father Branch said. “Well, congratulations.”
“Isn’t that like… a major sin?”
“I doubt it,” the priest shrugged. “If it is, three fourths of the Vatican is unrepentantly commiting it, but I don’t guess that’s what you really wanted to tell me.”
“No,” Russell agreed. “I’m in love. I’m in a relationship. I was in a relationship. I… there’s always a relationship it seems these days.”
“Well, now you’re just bragging.”
“No, I mean I’m in love with Cody. He’s here.”
“Wait… Thom’s son? Your brother.”
“Only he wasn’t my brother. No one knew until recently. And by then we already… The feelings were there.”
Father Branch let out a short, heavy, “Oh.
“That’s rough. That’s real rough.”
“Yeah, and I don’t know what to do.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, who is his mother?”
“His mother?”
“Yes,” Father Branch said, “who is Cody’s mother.”
“Justine. Justine Barnard. Only, I guess her last name wasn’t Barnard. She lives on Colum Street.”
“Justine,” Father Branch frowned, and his eyes were slits. Smoke poured from his nose as if he was a dragon. “I do remember her.”
“Really.”
“I remember a lot of things, Russell. Some of them not very helpful. Is there anything else?
“I have feelings for someone else. He’s here too. He came with Ross and my cousins.”
“From Saint Alban’s?”
“Yes.”
“You’re in love with two fully, grown ass men?”
“Father!”
“Well,” the priest shook his head. “I think I need a second cigarette.”
“Can I get one too?”
“It might be best.”
They sat smoking, long haired teenage boy, middle aged black suited priest, and finally Father Branch said, “Most of your situation… is over your head and ridiculous. You need an exorcist.”
Russell almost wanted to laugh, but sort of didn’t dare.
“But part of it, maybe I can help you with.”
“Okay? I mean, I’d be glad for help in any part.”
Michael Branch scratched his chin and said, “When this is over… When your father has time to answer questions, ask him who Bob Wynant is?”
“Bob Wynant?”
“Yes,” Michael Branch said. “Just ask.”
“I was thinking we could keep watch really early,” Gilead said.
He and Mark had taken Russell’s bed, but they weren’t the only ones. Jason and Ralph had angled themselves on the side and bottom, and Chris and Cameron made a pallet on the floor.
“Yeah,” Mark whispered.
“I was thinking,” Mark started, “I was thinking how this would have been good for Joe. You know. I wish we’d done something like this. It seems like we all forget. I don’t wanna forget, Gil.”
Mark was scooped up in Gilead’s arms and Gilead’s lips were pressed to his ear.
“You know I didn’t mean it as a racist thing when I said the good part of Westhaven, right?”
Mark turned around and looked at him.
“Be quiet.”
“I’m serious.”
“Since you got here this afternoon,” Gilead said, “I’ve wanted to be with you. Since you came in smelling like you’d just gotten out the shower, squeaky clean, I just wanted you to myself.”
Mark grinned at him.
“It’s so funny,” Gilead said. “I used to be so nervous in gym class about taking my clothes off in front of other boys, and now all I want to do is lay down with you and have nothing between us.”
Mark stroked Gilead’s cheek with the back of his hand.
“Not here,” Gilead said, “of course.”
“Can you imagine?” Mark grinned, pressing his blue jeaned knees to Gilead’s.”
Gilead looked down at Ralph and Jason and said, “No. No I can’t.”
Mark took Gilead by the chin and kissed him, and they began to make out quietly on the bed, and then Gilead rolled away, pressed himself off the bed and held out his hand to Mark. Mark rolled over and climbed off the bed, and they went down the hall. Downstairs was filled, but the spare room they’d been in earlier was empty with only the blue light of the TV.
“Should we?” Mark grinned and looked startled.
“We will,” Gilead said, and squeezing Mark’s hand, he pulled him toward the room, and then they shut the door, clicking the lock.
Kristin stood in front of the refrigerator, forgetting what she was there for and then, taking out a half gallon of milk closed the door and was surprised by Thom.
“He waited for you.”
“What?”
“He waited for you, Kristin.”
She tried to shrug it off and poured the milk.
“I guess.”
“You know.”
“I loved him, Thom,” Kristin said, closing the milk carton. “I don’t know if you’ll get it. I loved him. He was my… Papa… Things weren’t easy. They should have been better. They should have been so much better.”
“I didn’t make up with him. I didn’t do what I should of. I didn’t go over there and see him, I didn’t.”
“Thomas,” Kristin put a finger over her brother’s lips.
“You didn’t owe him anything. You did what you could.”
“Did I?”
“You did what you could. That’s the only thing you can do.
“And you,” she told Russell who was coming around the hall—
“Need to go bed.”
“Yes,” Kristin said. “You’re not going to miss anything. It’ll be plenty of your elders screaming and falling apart tomorrow. You need rest.”
“Yes, Aunt Kristin.
Then Russell went toward her and kissed her on the cheek.
“You’re taller than both of us,” she said. “And you need to shave. But for real. Get out of here. Go to bed.”
In the deepest part of the night, the lights are still on in the Lewis house. Chayne and Rob have gone upstairs to sleep in Thom and Patti’s room without even asking, which is a Chayne thing to do, and on the let out bed, Ross Allyn snores beside Anigel, and Macy McLlarchlan is sprawled on one side of him while Jimmy Nespres is sleeping on the edge by Anigel. Faye sleeps in an easy chair, and like a giant cat, Chuck Shrader is curled at her feet. Jackie is asleep in a spare bedroom beside Reese, and the baby even sleeps in the cradle they put up beside them.
“You all are in a band?”
“Chilli Comet Sundae,” Nehru told Kathleen
“Sing us something.”
“Are you sure?”
“It won’t bother him,” Kathleen sat back and took out her cigarettes.
“And it’ll keep me awake.”
It was well past midnight, into the very darkest part of the night, and RL Lewis looked deep in peaceful sleep. Nehru was humming and then he sang:
“I wonder about the love you can't find
And I wonder about the loneliness that's mine
I wonder how much going have you got
And I wonder about your friends that are not
I wonder I wonder, wonder I do.”
“Rodriguez?”
“Yeah,” Nehru said to Kathleen.
“No one remembers him.
“I do. I love him”
Upstairs, dyed blue and blue white by the night, in the midst of a rumpled bed, Mark and Gilead lay naked, holding each other. In their sleep, Mark spooned Gilead, pressing into him, and Gilead murmured as Mark’s tongue touches his ear…
I wonder about the tears in children's eyes
And I wonder about the soldier that dies
“They said,” said Cody, “at his last concert, the audience wasn’t responding and so he sang them one last song, said good bye and then blew off his head.”
“That’s deep.”
“It’s also nonsense,” Brad said.
“Then where is he?”
I wonder will this hatred ever end
I wonder and worry my friend
I wonder, I wonder, wonder don't you?
Downbelow, in a lightless basement room, Flipper Sanders, who has traveled two hours because he loves someone, lies on his back, eyes closed, occasionally blinking at the ceiling. He’s sprawled out on the bed like a starfish, his head propped on a pillow, and now and again he sighs as he lowers his hands to Russell, who lies long and white and nude between his legs, and he massages the thick hair of the boy whose mouth moves up and down, under his belly, head circling, while he nurses his cock.
“Who knows?” Nehru says.
“Who knows where anyone is…. Or where anyone goes?”
Grey light comes through blinds in the RL’s room when Gilead Story, half asleep in a deep chair, stirs and looks around the room. Russell, Flipper, Ralph, Jason and Mark are all half passed out. Kathleen Lewis has rarely left her estranged husband’s side.
Gilead stretches, then moves out of the room into the hall where he stretches his legs and wiggles his feet. He goes down the little hall and into the kitchen. He has been here enough to know where the coffee is, and he makes a large pot. Several people are going to want it. After he turns on the coffee maker, Gilead goes out into the cool almost Easter morning and smokes a cigarette. He thinks how he can’t wait to get back home, shower, sleep in his bed and see his mother again. But there is something powerful about this, something beautiful about the night that has passed, and in a way he doesn’t really want it to end.
He makes himself coffee and goes back into the room.
Gilead has only had two sips when he sits up. There is a change in RL’s breathing. He leans over and shakes Kathleen. She is awake immediately. Gilead is the most sensible friend Russell has. She looks to him like another adult.
“His breathing.”
Kathleen blinks, looks over him, puts the back of her hand to his nostrils.
“Gil, go wake Kristin and the others.”
The others are the children. Gilead knows what that means. He shakes Jackie awake, and goes upstairs to Thom and Patti’s room, rapping hard.
Thom opens the door.
“It’s time,” he says. “Where’s Mrs. Keillor?”
“Down there. I’ll get her.”
“I’ll get her,” Gilead says forcefully. “It’s time.”
The boys have cleared out of the room except for Russell. His arms are around his father, and his chin is on Thom’s head, as if he is the parent. Finn looks agitated. Jackie looks the same way she’s looked since yesterday, same red face, same slow tears. Kristin Keillor looks like Gilead imagines he will look when the time comes for him to say goodbye to a parent. In the hallway, Reese Keillor and Patti are in the room. Gilead just feels Mark, who is gripping him so hard it hurts.
“Sorry,” Mark says, and Gilead holds his hand.
Kathleen looks up at Thom.
“He’s gone.”
Gilead feels like there is a sudden pit in his stomach, but it’s a change in the air, a pit in the room. He moves out of the hall and takes Mark with him. It’s like he knows something is about to happen and it is, because sobbing starts in the room, and relief starts in the room, and when Gilead is in the dining room, he sees Kristin Keillor walking out, rubbing her arms. She goes through the kitchen and out into the backyard, and Gilead finds Chayne, who is pouring coffee for Rob in the kitchen and looking out of the window at Thom’s sister.
At the same time Anigel comes down the stairs a howl breaks out in the yard, and they turn away from Kristin who is wailing as she bows to grab her knees. Only Chayne sees when she kneels in the wet grass, weeping as the sun rises.
ONLY THREE CHAPTERS LEFT, MY LOVES, TILL THE END OF NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
