The God Box (16 page)

What would happen to Manuel now that he was undeniably out to the entire school?I arrived at homeroom the next day more worried than ever. Yet surprisingly, Manuel didn't get hassled any more than before. I guess the people who wanted to harass him were already doing so. Or maybe his being open made it redundant to call him names. For example:Homophobe jerk in hallway shouts, "Hey, fag!"Manuel answers back, "That's right. I'm glad you can read."I began to worry that Dakota's article could have a bigger impact on me than on Manuel. From now on, anybody who spotted me hanging out with him would know for certain I was hanging out with someone gay.When school let out for the holidays, I hurried out the door, desperate for the break.167

THE SATURDAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS I DROVE TO ABILENE AIRPORT TO PICK UP

ABUELITA. SHE GREETED ME WITH A HUG AND MY FAVORITE KIND OF

CHOCOLATE: A BRAND YOU CAN ONLY GET IN MEXICO. WHILE WE WAITED FOR

HER BAGGAGE, SHE ASKED ABOUT PA AND RAQUEL, AND DURING THE DRIVE

HOME SHE SAID, "AND HOW IS ANGIE?""Um ..." My throat tightened a little. "She's okay."Across the seat Abuelita adjusted her glasses at me. Somehow, she could always tell when something was troubling me. "Is everything all right?""Sure." I gave an evasive shrug, knowing that wouldn't be the end of it. But for now I put the discussion off and ate my chocolate.Traditionally, my family had our big holiday meal on Christmas Eve. While Pa ran last-minute errands, I helped set the table for dinner, and Abuelita asked me, "What time is Angie coming over? I have a present for her."Angie had joined my family for every Christmas Eve since I'd known her, but after our "take a break" conversation, neither of us had mentioned it for this year.168"Um ..." I gulped to swallow the lump in my throat. "She might not come over.""Mi amor." Abuelita stared me down from behind her boxy glasses. "What's going on?""Nothing," I said, dropping a fork that bounced across the carpet. "Nothing. Everything is fine." Hurriedly, I finished setting the table.For our feast Pa had invited Raquel and some friends. And, as always, Abuelita laid out an extra place setting, to remind us of those who didn't have enough to eat--and of the Lord. But tonight the vacant space reminded me mostly of how much I missed Angie. After I'd finished helping clear the dinner dishes, I decided to phone her."Um, hi." My voice trembled.

"Merry Christmas Eve." "Hi!" Angie sounded surprised. "Merry Christmas Eve to you too. I'm happy you called.""You are?" I let out a sigh, relieved that she didn't sound hurt. "Yeah," she said. "How was your dinner?" "It was fine ... Um, I missed you."The line was silent till Angie said, "That's good. I missed you, too. Hey, I have a present for you.""Really? I got you one too."

After all, it was Christmas, and even though we weren't dating, I still considered her my best friend.We agreed to exchange gifts after our choir concert on Sunday. It felt so good to be talking with her, and it made me wish things could go back to how they used to be between us--before Manuel. But could they ever again? That doubt made me even sadder than before.After bedtime prayers I flopped into bed, still feeling kind of down, till my cell phone chirped with a text message from Manuel: Fe/iz Navidad!I texted him back: Merry Christmas to you too!Then I went to sleep, feeling a tiny bit better.169

THE SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS WAS OUR CHURCH'S CELEBRATION OF JESUS'

BIRTH --THE BIG EVENT MY YOUTH CHOIR HAD BEEN REHEARSING FOR SINCE

OUR LAST CONCERT. WE LIT SPARKLERS OF HOPE, WAVED FLAGS FROM

COUNTRIES WHERE WE HELPED MISSIONARIES, UNFURLED RED AND GREEN

BANNERS--AND I NEARLY SANG MY LUNGS OUT.After the service Pastor Jose stopped by the choir room to tell us, "You made the Lord proud today." Then he patted my shoulder.

"How's it going, Paul?""Good." I tried to smile, while squirming inside my shoes. How could I begin to explain how it was really going?That afternoon Angie came over to my house to exchange gifts and see Abuelita. And for the first time in Angie's nearly million visits, I felt a little awkward. What should we talk about? Should we sit next to each other--or across?Abuelita peered at the two of us and scratched her head, like she knew something was up. Then she gave Angie a silver flower pin. Angie gave her a shimmering turquoise-colored shawl. And I gave Angie a pink cotton sweater.170"I love it!" She pulled it on. It looked great on her. In turn, she gave me a pair of Thinsulate gloves (made without harming any animals) that I really liked.I'd hoped Angie would hang out for a while like she usually did, but after only a few minutes she said, "I wish I could stay, but I've got to go to the mall with Mom."Did she really have to go? I wondered. Or did she just feel too uncomfortable?I walked her to the door and said good-bye.

Then I returned to the kitchen, where Abuelita had started to make a pot of chicken stew for supper."I'm so happy she came over," Abuelita said. "Can you help me cut up some vegetables?"As I began to chop up some carrots, I expected Abuelita to say more about Angie.

But instead she asked, "How is your friend I met last time, Manuel?"What had made her think of him? "Um ... he's fine."Abuelita stirred the stew pot and gazed over at me. "Does he have a boyfriend?"I nearly chopped my finger off. Why had she asked that? What made her suspect that Manuel was gay?"Um, he used to, but..." My throat felt like a chicken bone had caught in it.

"They broke up.""Well, that's too bad. He seems like such a nice boy. He should have someone."I peered cautiously across the kitchen at her. Didn't it bother her that Manuel was gay?"But homosexuality is a sin," I told her.She gave me a stern look. "You know, when I was growing up, I never even knew the word 'homosexual'--not till I left your abuelito and moved to Monterrey with your papa, and tried to find a job. No171one would hire me"--she wiped her hands on her apron--"except the owner of a hair salon. I was so grateful to him. Then I began to hear gossip that he was a homosexual--and how supposedly sinful that was. But I thought, If this man is so bad, why was he the only one willing to help me?" She tapped the old, seasoned wooden spoon on the stew pot. "I think that unless people are told to believe homosexuality and God are in conflict, there is no conflict."As I listened to her, I sliced some celery--carefully, so as not to cut myself. "But what about what the Bible says?""Pablito, the Bible was meant to be a bridge, not a wedge." Abuelita nodded her head at me. "It's the greatest love story ever told, about God's enduring and unconditional love for his creation--love beyond all reason. To understand it, you have to read it with love as the standard. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Always remember that."My nervousness eased a little as she spoke, and, emboldened, I ventured another question: "Then, you don't think, um, gay people should try to change?""Change?" Abuelita snorted, pulling a big red onion out of the fridge. "Anyone who expects a person to change something as private and personal as who they hold in their arms at night needs to change their own judgmental attitude." She slammed the fridge door. "The Bible says a lot more against judging others than against homosexuality. Remember First Samuel Sixteen?""Yeah." I knew she meant 16:7, one of my favorite verses in the entire Bible: The LORD sees not as man sees; man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.I had never thought of it in terms of the gay debate. Now my mind bubbled over with confusion. How had Abuelita known Manuel was gay? And more importantly, did she think I might be gay too?If she did, she didn't seem terribly troubled by the possibility. But I still was--though maybe a tiny bit less than before.172

WHEN I INVITED MANUEL OVER TO MY HOUSE THAT WEEK, ABUELITA GREETED

HIM ALMOST AS HAPPILY AS SHE HAD ME, WITH A HUG AND A CHOCOLATE BAR.

"CALL ME ABUELITA," SHE TOLD HIM, AND THEY TALKED IN SPANISH LIKE

THEY'D KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR YEARS.Manuel and I hung out several times over the holidays. One afternoon he and I drove to a skating rink in Abilene with his brother, Jaime, who was home from college.For a Christmas present, Manuel gave me a battery-operated desktop cactus that waved its arms while its body danced to mariachi music. It was pretty funny. I gave him a key chain with a miniature license plate that said manuel."Is this for the key to your heart?"

Manuel grinned slyly."You wish." I pretended to be annoyed, not knowing how else to react. No one had ever flirted with me so directly, not even Angie, and definitely not any guy. Even though it made me uncomfortable, it also felt good. My feelings for Manuel were continuing to grow, but I had no idea how to handle them. Should I push him away? But even though he riled me, I wanted to be with him.173"Hey." Manuel phoned one evening. "Want to go to the (s)mall?"My skin prickled at the thought. Being seen with him in public in my own town still made me wary."Why don't you just come over to my house?" I suggested."Nah. I'm sick of being cooped up. I want to go somewhere, and there's nowhere else to go. Come on!"Should I risk it? I flipped the switch to the cactus on my desk and it began to dance."Okay," I agreed against my better judgment. "I'll meet you at the music store."As I drove to the mall, another norther was blowing in, and it started to sprinkle a little rain. When I got to the parking lot, I turned my jacket collar up to keep the wind out before climbing from the car. Then I shoved my hands into my pockets, realizing I had forgotten the gloves Angie had given me.As I started across the parking lot, a pickup truck rumbled past me, blasting its horn. It was Jude and one of his goon friends, Terry Skidmore. I avoided eye contact, kept walking, and whispered a prayer for them--and for me.At the music-and-movies store, I found Manuel browsing DVDs in the comedy section. He had told me that he liked over-the-top goofy movies, the kind where everybody acts totally stupid.

"There's a new one showing at the theater," he said."Oh, yeah?" I replied, not paying much attention.We listened to sample CDs and then walked through the mall, looking in store windows.

Each time I spotted somebody from school, I ducked beneath my jacket collar, hoping they wouldn't see us."Are you okay?" Manuel said, noticing me."I wish we could go somewhere else,"

I mumbled.174"Okay. Where?""I don't know." There really wasn't anywhere else to go.As we strode past the theater, Manuel paused in front of the poster for the movie he'd mentioned. "Hey, you want to see it?"I recalled our last time at the movies and how I'd pressed my arm against his.

My heart stirred at the thought, while a voice in my head whispered, Danger!"Nah." I buried my hands in my jean pockets and kept walking."Why?" Manuel's eyes glimmered with mischief.

"You afraid someone will think we're on a date?""No." I glanced over my shoulder."Then why not?""Because, I don't want to.""Oh, come on!" Manuel tugged at my jacket sleeve, like a little boy wanting to play. "It's Christmastime. I'll treat."I tried to pull away, but his touch melted my resistance. He could have suggested we run away to Mexico in that moment, and I would have said yes."All right," I agreed. At least it would be dark inside, so people wouldn't see us.The lights were dimming as we entered the theatre. In our small conservative town, if two guys went to a movie together without dates, they always left an empty seat between them, so they wouldn't get called "queer." But tonight when I tried to leave a space between us, Manuel stood again and moved into the seat beside me.Not wanting to get into a discussion about it, I merely gritted my teeth. Besides, the fact was: I wanted him to sit next to me. My heart sped up as I pulled my jacket off and smelled the clean scent of his hair.The film began, and my gaze kept shifting to the armrest175separating us. I expected Manuel to lay his hand on it, like last time, and press against my arm. But he didn't. Instead, he watched the movie and laughed.I pretended to laugh too, while inside my head I debated what to do. Should I lay my own hand between us? No! Why couldn't I just calm down?Slowly, I laid my hand on the vacant armrest.An instant later, as if he'd been waiting for me to make the first move, Manuel raised his hand . . . and without a word of explanation he brought it to rest on the back of mine.I fought the urge to leap out of my seat. Was he joking? Or serious? Or crazy? Pressing arms was one thing; holding hands was another.My pulse quickened as I glanced around the dark theater. Everybody was laughing, though fortunately not at us. I should pull my hand away. Now! But it might as well have been bolted to the chair.Sweat trickled down my back, and Manuel's fingers gently stroked mine. His touch felt softer than I had expected. And, as though my hand had a mind of its own, it turned over. Our palms touched, and my heart beat so loud I thought certain everyone in the theater would hear it.

Nervously, I looked over at Manuel.The screen light flickered across his face, giving it a warm glow. His bangs dangled carelessly toward his mischief-filled eyes and their long, curly lashes, while his lips curved into a laugh. I'd always liked his laugh--both playful and earnest. He was everything I could want in a guy--smart, with good looks, a kind, joyful heart, and a passion for God.I remembered being in his bedroom and wishing we'd kissed. Now, as I looked at his mouth, I wished it again.As if reading my mind, Manuel gazed back at me, his mouth176open a little.

Our eyes met and held, just like the first morning I'd seen him. And, like that time, every part of me felt drawn to him by a force stronger than my own. My skin tingled beneath his touch, and my stomach quivered as he leaned toward me.Then it happened. His hand brushed my wristband, and something snapped inside me. I'm not sure what--maybe all those messages of sin and threats of hellfire. Or was it fear of what I felt toward him? For whatever reason my excitement abruptly spiraled into panic. What was I doing? Was I nuts? I yanked my hand away from his, fumbled for my jacket, and sprang to my feet."Hey, what's the matter?" Manuel leaped up after me.I stumbled across the dark row and up the theater aisle. As I burst out the door into the lobby, Manuel trailed behind me. "Wait! What's going on?"I bounded toward the mall exit, wanting more than anything to get outside to the fresh air."Whoa, are you all right?" Manuel tried to grab hold of my arm, but I shook him off and threw open the door to the parking lot.It had started to rain harder. Jude and his friend were hovering beneath the entrance awning, smoking cigarettes and jabbering. Upon seeing us, Jude called out, "Faggots!"I wanted to punch him, but instead I cringed and hurried toward my car."Wait up!" Manuel chased after me. "What the hell's the matter with you?"As I fished out my keys, I turned to him. "Why did you do that?" "Do what?" Manuel stared blankly at me. "You know what.""Hold your hand?" Manuel's face crinkled in confusion. "Because I wanted to. You didn't exactly seem to mind. If you didn't want to, you could have said no."177I snapped a look at him, annoyed, though of course he was right. I tried to jam my keys into the car door, but they fell onto the wet pavement.Manuel bent down and picked them up. For an instant I thought he might not give them back. I didn't care. I'd walk home--rain or not."Hey, come on .. ."