The Book of Joby (36 page)

“My son,” Father Richter said, steeling himself for greater severity than he had ever shown Joby before, “I must be clear. The wages of sin is
death.
Our Lord taught that it would be better to sacrifice any part of our bodies and enter Heaven crippled, than to be cast whole into the fires of Hell. Is any passing pleasure really worth the loss of your soul? God called Abraham to
sacrifice his own son. Next to that, how difficult is the small sacrifice of flesh that God asks of you?”

Of course, God had
spared
Abraham that sacrifice at the last moment, but Father Richter had no intention of weakening the boy’s resolve by including that point. Given the raging storm of hormones any boy of Joby’s age endured, it was unlikely enough that Joby’s virginity would last much longer. Why give the devil any extra help?

“You say this young temptress was a
stranger
?” Richter asked.

“Yes,” Joby whispered.

The anguish in that whisper nearly broke Richter’s heart, but he knew there was no room for sentiment here and asked God for strength. “Have you a girlfriend?” he asked, knowing the answer, of course. “Someone you
truly
care about?”

“Yes,” Joby murmured forlornly.

“Do you realize,” Father Richter pressed, “that it was not merely God you wished to betray last night, but this girl you love, as well?”

There was an even longer silence. “Yes,” Joby said at last, sounding on the edge of tears.

“It is good that you do,” Father Richter said, suddenly feeling terribly weary. “Have you other sins to confess?”

“No, Father,” Joby murmured.

“Then I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” Father Richter said. “For your penance, I want you to prove your worthiness of God’s love by devoting yourself to loving the girlfriend you speak of without any lust whatsoever, and valuing
her
spiritual welfare as well as your own at all times, lest you subject
her
to an ordeal like that which you, yourself, have suffered. Do you understand me, my son?”

“Yes, Father,” Joby said with audible resolve. “I will never be unworthy of God or her again. . . . I promise.”

“Then go with God’s forgiveness, and sin no more,” Father Richter said, and slid the panel shut between them.

As they walked, hand in hand, toward her front door, Laura smiled at Joby and leaned up to kiss his cheek, eliciting a smile twin to her own. The evening had been everything she’d hoped her senior prom might be. She’d been the envy of every girl there, dancing in the arms of their class valedictorian, so tall and handsome in his black satin tux. During their senior year Joby had finally become taller and better looking than Laura thought Kevin Branscom had any hope of being. Seeing even her lascivious friend, Karen Tyler, cast covetous glances at Joby that evening, Laura had barely restrained herself from drifting over to murmur, “Not bad—for a
twelve-year-old
—is he,
dahling!
”

As it happened, Laura’s parents were gone for the entire week. By some miracle, they’d won a cruise trip in some contest they couldn’t even recall entering. With the house all to herself, Laura had decided earlier that evening that the time had come to do Joby, and herself, one last, huge favor before graduation forced them to part.

For two years now, Joby had been sweeter and more sensitive than any boy she’d ever known, even Benjamin. He’d carved tremendous amounts of time from his frenetic schedule to spend with her. He had always listened when she wanted to talk, seeming both to care and understand. He was always surprising her with small insights, little gifts, and kind gestures. He had become a
very
good dancer, once she’d convinced him to try. And yet, there was still a part of him Laura had never gotten within shouting distance of.

From the very beginning, Joby had kept everything between them so terribly chaste. He kissed her often, but only as storybook princes kissed; lips warm and soft but barely open; embracing her with grace but never real passion. As he’d grown taller and more beautiful, she had hoped this would change, but it never had, though the passion missing in his kisses was more than evident in his eyes and voice. In the fall, Laura would leave for Brown in Rhode Island, while Joby went to Berkeley. But Laura had grown more
determined than ever to have him completely, if briefly, at least once before she had to let him go.

At the door, she turned, and Joby kissed her as sweetly, and as inaccessibly, as ever.

“It was
wonderful,
Joby,” she said when he leaned away. “I wish it wouldn’t end.” She smiled plaintively, taking his hands in her own. “I’m not
ready
for it to end yet. Come in and keep me company for a while. . . .
Please?
”

Kallaystra stood gazing down on the pretty couple, sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, naked but for the girl’s covers wound about them. In one way at least, the unfortunate girl was not deluded: Joby really had become a very beautiful young man. Looking at him now, Kallaystra even felt some small regret at having failed to seduce him herself at that party two years earlier.

Steering the
girl
through this seduction had been child’s play. It was never difficult to compel such creatures toward what they so deeply wanted to begin with, though the child might recall some of her tactics this evening with great discomfort in the morning. Winning past the
boy’s
defenses, however, had required a subtle skill and surgical precision that left Kallaystra once again in awe of Malcephalon’s abilities.

Her part in this finished, Kallaystra took one last appreciative look at Joby, and murmured, “I hope you enjoyed your meal, pretty lad.” She glanced at Malcephalon, looming in the shadows beyond their bed, and quipped, “Here comes your waiter with the check.”

Joby woke in darkness without opening his eyes, still clinging to the most deliciously sinful dream he’d ever had. Thankful that God didn’t hold him accountable for dreams, he opened his eyes and began to stretch. As the muzzy confusion of sleep suddenly receded, however, two things became apparent. He was in a room he did not recognize, and he was naked, though he
never
slept naked.

With a jolt, he sat up and turned to find Laura lying beside him, as naked as he.

Oh God!
he thought, immobilized by shock.
What have I—How could we
—

His mind raced backward, scrambling for explanations, but everything was fuzzy and disjointed. For an instant, he even wondered if Laura had slipped him something somehow, then shoved the idea furiously away. Slowly, it all started coming back. There had been . . . an argument, about
why he wouldn’t ever touch her, why he wouldn’t even look at her as she . . . as she had let her
dress slide to the floor.

He shook his head in denial.

“You think I’m ugly, don’t you,” she had wept. “You must despise me!”

She
couldn’t
have done that. She would
never
have . . .

He half-remembered his own urgent denials, his attempts to explain, his need to stop her tears, to comfort her, to hold her, the warmth of her through his clothing, the dampness of her tears on his face and neck as she clung to him. The elusive sense of manhood he had always longed for and never found within himself; the chance to be everything he’d ever seen in Benjamin; an answer to his father’s shame; an end to the terrible gaping hole that had haunted his wounded, empty heart for so many years; every physical pleasure Joby had ever denied himself and hungered for; all this had suddenly been his—to seize or lose forever.

Despite the darkness, Joby covered his eyes, desperate to avert the memories even as he felt himself stiffening with new desire. Shame and dread leapt up inside him with explosive intensity. He had
used
Laura
terribly,
betrayed her love
completely,
broken
every vow
he’d ever made to God, ignored
every warning
Father Richter had ever given him! Yet, on the very heels of such horrendous treason, he
ached
to wake Laura and do it all again!

As stealthily as panic allowed, Joby slipped from bed and began to pull his clothes on. Laura drew a sudden breath and turned beneath the covers. Grabbing the rest of his things, Joby ran from the room before she could awaken and confront him. Fumbling for his car keys, he dashed from her house in his pants and shirt, tossing the rest of his clothes into his mother’s car, then jumping behind the wheel to start the engine. As he lurched from the curb he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Laura’s pale form, robed now, sway onto the porch, illuminated in the green glow of street lamps. There was just time to see the dismay on her face before he gunned the engine and sped away.

By the time he got home, the first gray smudge of dawn had cut distant hills from the sky like paper silhouettes. There was no way to change what he had done, nor any way to live with it, so he had just retreated altogether into numb denial. He dragged his shoes, socks, tie, and coat from the backseat, shuffled up the walk, and opened the front door to find his mother standing there in her nightgown.

“Where have you been?” she asked, sounding torn between fear and fury.

“Out,” Joby said, his gaze falling to the hardwood floor in shame at his half-dressed state, a virtual confession.

“Out
where
?” she demanded.

“Just out,” Joby said without looking up. Then memory of his father’s departure hit him like a pile driver; his parents’ fight, their final words:

Out.

Out where?

Unable to endure it, he pushed past her and walked woodenly toward his room.

“Come back here!” she snapped.
“Don’t you dare walk out on me that way!”

Oh God, the very words!

Some barrier inside him shattered, and he ran for his room, gasping animal cries of misery. Behind him, his mother’s silence suddenly seemed more filled with fear than anger.

Joby flushed the toilet and finished tucking in his shirt just as the second bell rang. One more class, he thought dully, and he could flee all these people. He didn’t know where he would go. Not home certainly. He had spent the weekend locked in his room, despite his mother’s pleas that he come out and tell her what was happening. Maybe he would just wander all night. If he was lucky, he thought, he would simply lose his mind soon, and forget himself entirely.