The Battle for Jericho (16 page)

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can the Bible be wrong?”

“No.” You know the bang a door makes when you slam it really hard? That’s how that “no” sounded coming from Mom. Stark, final, unequivocal. End of discussion, let’s get on to the next topic.

I stuck with the topic anyway. “But… what if something the Bible says doesn’t—”

In a sharp, sudden move, Mom spun around to face me. “Jericho, the Bible is the infallible word of God. You
know
that.”

The look on her face made clear that it would be wise of me to agree with her. “Yes, ma’am, I know that.”

Mom visibly relaxed, but she kept staring at me as if trying to tune into the thoughts rattling in my head. “Why did you bring this up? Is there a particular passage in the Bible that you’re having trouble with?”

“No, Mom. I’m not having trouble with anything.” I took my jacket and my sports drink and went to my room.

I
WAS
lying on my back in bed, dead asleep. Something woke me. I opened my eyes slowly. A little line of drool had run from the corner of my mouth and down the side of my face. I wiped it off with my hand.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

I raised my head. Hutch was straddling the chair from my desk, smiling at me.

“Hey,” I said in a sleep-slurred voice. I sat up slowly. “How long have you been there?”

“I just got here. Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything to embarrass yourself.”

A yawn bulged out of me. “I was having a having a hell of a dream.”

“Must have been a sex dream.”

“Nah. I was, like, this really cool prince, ruling a country. I was having this beef with some guy who was the country’s minister of affairs or something. He kept telling me I had to do a certain thing, but I wasn’t having it and I sent his butt off to jail.” Parts of the dream were still vivid, but fading fast from my memory. I shook the whole thing off. “What’re you up to?”

Hutch shrugged. “I got tired of playing video games. I asked my dad for some money for the movies, and he told me to go to hell. So I came over here.”

“Wow. Thanks a lot.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. “I don’t mean this is hell, you nut. This is like my home away from home.”

“Always glad to be your backup plan, dude.” The aroma of baking chicken drifted down from the kitchen. It made me hungry. “What time is it?”

“Almost four.”

I stood up. “Come on and take a walk with me.”

“Okay.”

I grabbed my jacket from the closet as Hutch got up and shrugged into his. Dad was sitting in the easy chair reading some book when we crossed the living room, heading for the door.

“Where the hell are you two going?” Dad asked.

“Just out for a walk,” I answered.

“Your mom’s going to be ready to serve dinner in an hour.”

“We’ll be back by then.”

“See that you are. Will you be having dinner with us, Barry?”

Hutch grinned. “Sure, Dr. Jiles, if it’s okay with you.”

“You’re always welcome here, boy.”

H
UTCH
and I stepped outside. The sun was setting, sending the shadows of the houses on my side of the street stretching over to the other side. The air was a lot colder now than it was when I finished the basketball game. I zipped my jacket and, as an extra guard against the chill, turned the collar up to my chin. Then I shoved my hands into my pockets.

“Damn it, it’s freezing out here.” My teeth chattered.

“You were the one who wanted to go walking,” Hutch said nonchalantly. He slipped his hands into his own pockets.

“I want to talk, and I don’t want to do it in there,” I said, nodding toward my house. “Come on.”

We turned north on the sidewalk, as if we were heading to school. The street was deserted, which I thought was a good thing. I sighed nervously.

“So what are we talking about?” Hutch asked.

I hesitated before answering, embarrassment making it hard for me to get the words out. “Hutch, how do you know that you’re gay?”

He chuckled. “Because feeling up boys is a lot more fun to me than feeling up girls.”

“Girls don’t turn you on?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.”

“You never want to kiss a girl? Touch her breasts or anything?”

He made a face, as if he’d taken a bite of something that tasted terrible. “You’re making me sick here, man.”

“Damn,” I said with amazement. “So when did you first know that you’re gay?”

“Well, I knew I was attracted to boys back when I was ten, but I didn’t really think about what that meant. It wasn’t a big deal or anything because I didn’t understand what I was feeling. I used to hear the older guys in school talk about fags. They made it sound like being a fag was the worst thing in the world a guy could be, and I knew I didn’t want to be one of those. But then I turned fourteen, and I started getting this flutter in my chest every time I looked at this boy in my Religious Studies class at Holy Madonna. He was all I thought about, and when I thought about him in bed at night, I would fantasize about being naked with him. That’s when I knew I was one of those fags the guys hate so much.”

“Did it scare you?”

He paused, and I could see that he was reviewing his memories. “Yeah, it did,” he said. “Not only was I afraid of what the guys at school would say or do to me if they found out, everything I’d been taught in church and in school said that I was going to hell for what I was feeling.”

I felt a shimmer of fear myself. “So you believe being gay is a sin?”

“I did at first, but I don’t believe that now. The whole idea is just so stupid. I mean, come on, why would God punish gay people? We can’t help the way we feel.”

“But the Bible does say that gay people should be put to death, man.”

“Jerry, the Bible says a lot of stupid things.”

I took a giant step back from Hutch.

He looked at me and grinned, puzzled. “What the…? What are you doing?”

“I just don’t want to get hit when God drops a comet on your head.”

His grin shrank down to a little apologetic smile. “Sorry. You believe in the Bible, and I shouldn’t have knocked your belief.”

“So… you’re an atheist now or something?”

“No. I still believe there’s a God.”

Now I was very confused. “Wait a second. You’re saying you believe in God, but you don’t believe in the Bible? That doesn’t make sense.”

“I said there are a lot of stupid things in the Bible, which was probably not the best way to put it. I guess what I should have said is that a lot of things in the Bible don’t make sense to me.”

“Like what?” I was afraid to ask but I did it anyway.

“You mean, aside from the one about God wanting a whole group of people put to death for being the way he made them?” A gust of wind blew locks of hair down over Hutch’s eyes. He brushed them back with his hand. “Well, how about the whole idea that God is jealous,” he said. “You had people back in those times who would carve a god out of stone and worship it. And the Bible says God was jealous of that. God is all-powerful, all-knowing, everlasting, but he’s jealous of a rock. That doesn’t make sense to me. Jealousy means that you’re feeling envious and insecure. I’m supposed to believe that the Almighty is envious of a rock? I’m supposed to believe the creator of the universe can be intimidated by a stupid
rock
?”

We started walking again. There was this bristling sensation in my chest. “I think you’re twisting things, man,” I said. “When the Bible talks about God being jealous, that’s simply saying that he’s the only god we should be worshipping.”

“I know that. But the Bible doesn’t just say that we should only worship God. It specifically says God is jealous. The Bible also says God had chosen people, and on occasion, he’d order his chosen people to wipe out whole tribes of people that he didn’t like, right down to the children. They even had to wipe out the tribes’ animals, oxen, sheep, donkeys, all of them.”

He paused. I turned away from him, looking out over the street ahead. The Tillmans’ front yard was covered by a dense blanket of brown leaves. That was like sticking their hand out for a citation from the town council for violating the lawn ordinance. They had twin boys, twelve years old, a pair of lawn-raking machines that apparently had been idle since September. My parents only had one lawn-raker, and they’d kept me busy all season. That didn’t seem fair to me. If you think my brain was digressing, you’re right. Thinking about the lazy Tillman twins was better than thinking about what Hutch was saying.

Hutch went on. “Children, man? God wanted his chosen people to wipe out the children of these hated tribes? God wanted his people to kill
babies
? And what sin did the livestock commit that God wanted them dead too? That bothers me on so many levels, I don’t even know where to start. Every human being is a creation of God, so how can he have a ‘chosen’ people? Wouldn’t a loving God care about all human beings, even the ones who are evil or don’t believe in him? Would a loving God want children brutally murdered even if they are members of some tribe he considers his enemies? And how could God or his chosen people have enemies? What threat could a bunch of humans pose to God or his chosen people that he couldn’t wipe out in the blink of an eye? That kind of stuff is so stupid—”

“So my mom and dad are stupid, huh?” I snapped, spinning on him. We both stopped in our tracks. “That’s what you’re saying, right? My parents are stupid for believing in the Bible. Only somebody with a head full of Froot Loops would take anything in the Good Book seriously, is that it?”

“What?” Hutch looked upset. “No, man. That’s not what I meant at all. You know I’d never say anything like that about your mom and dad. I’m just trying to explain why certain parts of the Bible don’t work for me. I think everybody’s entitled to his or her own religious beliefs. You and your family live by whatever belief works for you, and I’ll live by what I believe. In my opinion, no one should try to force another person to live by his religion.”

A little twitch hit my right eye. I was filled with irritation, and it seemed to be exhausting me. Suddenly, I just wanted to sit down somewhere.

Hutch studied my face carefully. “Look, I’m sorry, Jericho. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry.”
I just want to drop a comet on your head myself
. Damn it. I didn’t even understand why I was so upset with him. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the frosty air. It made shiver. “Come on. It’s too freaking cold to walk. Let’s go back.”

We turned, heading back down the street to my house.

Chapter 14

M
AC
’
S
mood had soured again. I went next door after getting home from church on Sunday, but he was shut up in his room, and he wouldn’t let me in. I wasn’t really in the mood for being around anyone myself. I spent the afternoon in my room, and aside from a quick telephone conversation with Lissandra after she and her parents returned home from Atlanta, I lay on the floor in front of my television watching football games.

I was back at Mac’s house Monday morning so we could walk to school together, but he had gone ahead without me. Hutch was waiting at the corner again. I got my first smile of the day from him. We stayed away from all talk of religion and same-sex desires, instead passing the time on our commute by discussing yesterday’s NFL games.

Walking through the main doors of the school building, Hutch headed off for his homeroom, and I went straight to Mac’s locker. He was there, digging around inside the compartment for something. He looked angry and uneasy, emotions I was all too familiar with myself lately. I thought I was justified in being moody, but not him. He’d spent Saturday afternoon with a hot, spicy honey whose parents were nowhere around. He should have been sporting a grin as big as the moon and bragging about all his freaky moves with Gina Marie.

I walked right up to him, a look of fake offense on my face along with a crooked smile. “What the hell, man? You ran off and left me this morning.”

He snapped out a curse, which I won’t repeat here because it was so masterful I’m thinking about getting it trademarked. “I didn’t know you couldn’t find your damn way to school without me,” he said harshly. “What’s next? I gotta hold your dick to keep you from peeing down your leg?”

The offended look wasn’t so fake suddenly. “What’s wrong with you, damn it?”

“Get a flipping life, Jerry!” He slammed the locker door, flashed me a look that would turn a certain Gorgon to stone, grabbed up his backpack, and took off down the hall.

At the other end of the hall, Lester Graff, one of the other guys from the football team, suddenly came around the corner. Roughly the same size as Mac, he had been on the team since last year, and it was no secret around school that he wasn’t happy to have Mac—who was faster and more agile—overshadowing him on the field now. When he and Mac spotted each other, they both froze for an instant, both looking very uncomfortable. Then they continued on their respective ways, each passing the other in the hall with his eyes on the floor.