Waterways (8 page)

Kory laughed. “I’ll have to ask the group about that.”

“Your online one?”

“Yeah. Hey, did you want to join?”

“Maybe. What kind of stuff do you talk about?”

Kory scooted to the computer to show him some of the old messages, kicking off another round of conversation about
Foundation
and about the friends in the online group. Before they knew it, Kory’s mother was knocking on the door to take Samaki home.

Kory scooted into the back seat with Samaki rather than ride shotgun, their tails bunched up on the seat between them. They started off talking about books again, but his mother intervened at the first pause in the conversation. She took up where she’d left off at dinner, and the half hour dragged on, Kory staring at the fox’s white tailtip on the seat between them, forcing himself not to reach out and touch it. Twice he looked at Samaki and caught the fox looking back with a bright white grin as he answered some inane question or another.

At the Rodens’ house, Kory got out to say goodbye. As they shook paws, Samaki said, “My mom was serious about you coming for dinner. Let’s set up a time.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to my mom and work it out. Maybe next weekend.”

“Sure. Hey, Kory…  thanks again. For being cool.” Samaki squeezed his paw.

“No problem,” Kory said. “I don’t want to find someone else to talk to about
Foundation
.”

Samaki laughed and waved, walking back to his house. Kory watched his tail wagging behind him as his mother pulled away. He felt warm and good, a feeling that lasted exactly halfway home.

His mother was talking about how nice Samaki seemed, even though she hoped he wouldn’t visit often because the smell lingered. That made Kory think of the scent as the fox had sat on his bed and told him he was gay. He started to wonder if they could remain friends, with one of them potentially interested in the other, even though Samaki had said he wouldn’t push anything, and he didn’t even know if the fox
was
interested in him. The lurking feeling that his body was interested, even if he thought he wasn’t, made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. He stared morosely out the window. Samaki
is
gay, he thought. I acted like an idiot, when I could have asked him… what? Not that I wanted to try something, he thought, though he knew he was only saying that to reassure himself. His body knew what he wanted more than he would admit to himself. Whenever Samaki was around, it told him so, loud and clear.

If this happened every time he thought about Samaki, he might have to stop seeing the fox, and he enjoyed the fox’s company more than he enjoyed being with any of his other friends. To cut himself off from that friendship felt wrong. But the alternative… he didn’t, he couldn’t.

He barely noticed when his mother handed him his cell phone. “I’m tired,” he said, but instead of going to bed, he sat at his desk surfing the web, looking for anything about high school kids attracted to the same sex. The only postings that made it through the parental filter were both stories of boys in high school talking about how they’d realized that they were gay. One was a wolf; one was a muskrat. Both of them said the same things.
I liked looking at boys. Girls didn’t do it for me. I finally had to admit to myself that I was gay.

Frustrated, he switched off the computer. That’s not me, he said to himself, pacing around the room. Finally, he undressed and dove into the water, letting its silence surround him. His mother rarely swam anymore, and Nick was already in bed, or else had snuck out as he often did, so he had the indoor pool to himself. He swam round and round in circles, thinking about nothing, rushing through the warmth and looking around at the uniform blue all around him.

After a ten minute swim, he really was too tired to continue. He climbed out and lay down on his mat on the floor, and fell asleep while he was drying off.

Everyone else had brought their swimsuit to the pool, but he was naked. If he got in the water, he thought, they wouldn’t notice. And nobody seemed to, until it was time to do the couples swimming. He looked around and grabbed Jenny’s wrist, but when he looked into her eyes, they were violet, and her muzzle was black and slender. 

“Hey,” someone said, “are you gay or what?” 

No, no, he tried to say, but he was holding Samaki’s wrist and they made him get out of the pool. But when he got to the locker room, Samaki was Father Joe, looking sternly at him. The sheep said, “you know better than that, Kory. It’s only okay if you come see me.” He made Kory lie down. 

“No, no,” Kory moaned, shifting back and forth on his mat. The pool, the locker room, he could smell them, and he just had to get up… 

Dazed, he opened his eyes, expecting to see the big sheep’s horns. Instead he saw his ELO poster and felt his own mat under his damp fur. He got to his paws and knees and crawled into bed, where he pulled the covers around himself, shivering. His room was dark; his mother must have looked in on him and turned out the light. He closed his eyes, willing himself to get back to sleep, but as soon as he did he saw the locker room again. His eyes shot open. He tried tracing the patterns of the stars on his ceiling, but they brought him no rest.

Jenny had given him a small stuffed dragon to hold at night because they couldn’t stay overnight together. He found it under the bed, where he’d kicked it weeks ago, but it gave him no comfort. Samaki’s scent overwhelmed even the faint traces of Jenny’s that Kory wasn’t sure he wasn’t imagining. Kory shoved the dragon away and pulled his pillow over his muzzle. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t equal to this kind of temptation.

He didn’t sleep. All night he stared at the ceiling, wondering if he would be fighting his body and its urges his whole life. If not, if he gave in…
would that be so bad?
whispered a voice into his head, as the serpent must have whispered to Eve, he thought. He remembered reading stories about people who’d given in to temptation, how it was the first step on a slippery slope that led them to ruin. I like girls, he said firmly back. He thought about the great times he’d had with Jenny when his mom was away, rolling around on the bed, and the voice came back and whispered,
they weren’t that great, were they really?

They were, he told himself firmly, and besides, I was never attracted to other guys. I never wanted to sleep with Sal.

Oh no?
the voice mocked him.
What about that time at camp when you got him to go skinny-dipping?

That wasn’t… 

Or the time you slept over at his place and managed to work it so you were in the same bed?

I was nine!

Or the time… 

Stop!

He pressed his paws to his eyes, feeling the dampness leak out through the pressure in his head. Was it… could it be? Could it be that he wasn’t upset about Jenny dumping him, not because he didn’t love her, but because he didn’t like girls? That the signs had been there his whole life that there had been this thing inside him, and he’d never known? He wished he’d never met the fox, never gone to the municipal pool.

He would find out how to fight this. The dream was just a dream. As the pearly light of morning crept through his windows, he decided to go see Father Joe.

The church was very different on Saturday morning. Empty of the Sunday crowds, it felt larger and more imposing, yet at the same time more personal because he was the only one there. Father Joe wasn’t anywhere about, so Kory took a moment to look around.

He’d never been in the church by himself. For years, it was just the place where he was dragged every Sunday. In the last two years, he’d begun to see what his mother saw in it, a repository of strength for the troubled, guidance for wanderers, love for all. He rarely acknowledged it, because none of his friends talked about church except to lament the loss of a Sunday morning or to cut short a Saturday night. Now, standing alone in the light of the stained glass and beatific muzzles, he felt their love focused on him. He looked up to the rafters far above and took a moment to fortify himself. They will help me, he thought. This is my trial.

Towards the front of the church, he found a sign that showed the way to Father Joe’s offices. They were actually in a small building beside the church, he discovered when he followed the signs and found himself outside. He knocked on the door and heard the sheep’s cheery, “Come in.”

Father Joe smiled and motioned for him to sit down. Warily, Kory did, taking the small stool closest to the modest desk, reading Father Joe’s name on the simple nameplate. The crucifix on the wall to his left depicted a Dall sheep Jesus, but the portrait opposite was a popular rendition of Jesus Lion, with the medieval-style halo and a tear visible on the tawny cheek ruff.

“How are you, Kory?” The priest moderated his booming voice to the small quarters of the office.

His idea that Father Joe might want to take advantage of him seemed ridiculous now, in this placid and proper setting. “I’m okay,” he said automatically, and then said, “well, not really.” Fatigue pulled his shoulders down; he slumped in the chair, confused about what to say next. Want to tell me about your dream?”

“No.” He couldn’t talk about that with anyone, not yet. He had to start somewhere, though. “I want your help. I want to fight it.”

The sheep’s large yellow horns bobbed sympathetically. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on?”

“I met this guy… this fox… I want to stay friends with him, but I keep thinking… see, he told me he’s… you know…” He hissed in frustration, one webbed paw squeezing the chair arm. “He’s, you know, he doesn’t like girls.”

“He’s gay,” Father Joe said.

Kory met his eyes, seeing no judgment there, nothing but understanding. “Yeah. So anyway, he, uh, I really like talking with him, but not.”

“Did he make a pass at you?”

“No. Well, sort of, the first day we met, but not like touching or anything.”

“Are you worried that he will?”

“No.” He looked at the sheep, begging him to figure it out so he wouldn’t have to say the words.

Father Joe inclined his head slightly. “Are you worried he might ‘turn you gay’?”

Kory squirmed in the chair, looking away from Father Joe, but that turned him toward the crucifix, which was no better. “No. I mean, I keep thinking… but it’s not his fault, I know people are just born that way.”

“Do you think you might be gay?”

There it was. He looked in the other direction, at the Lion on the wall. “I still like girls,” he said defiantly.

“Kory,” Father Joe said gently. “This is a confusing time of life for you, and a confusing issue to be dealing with.”

“I don’t want to deal with it,” he snapped. “I want to fight it. I know what the Church says.”

The sheep’s horns bobbed again. “I know what the Church’s official position is. I also know how I want to minister to my flock.” He reached into his desk and pushed a small card across the desk. “I happen to hold out hope that the Church will moderate its views. In the meantime, these people can help you out. It’s a Catholic group. I know David.” He tapped the card. “He used to be a priest. He felt he could better serve by leaving the Church, though it was a hard decision for him. He’s a good wolf.”

Kory stared at the card. He could read the words Dignity/USA on it, but nothing else from his position on the chair. He made no move to pick it up. “You’re supposed to tell me I’m going to hell if I give in.”

“Yes, I suppose, but if you knew that, you wouldn’t have needed to come see me.” The sheep looked shrewdly at him. “You came here to ask my help, and it may not be what you wanted to hear, but it’s the best I can do. In this day and age, it’s not a crime to be gay. The best thing you can do is find out whether the Lord made you that way. Popular culture gives us all sorts of ideas that might be right for us or they might not. It might just be that in meeting a gay person for the first time, you’re curious about what it’s like. Or it could be that for the first time, you’re opening yourself to something that’s been hidden in you all along. What’s important is that you find out what God’s plan for you is. Remember the Gospel of John?” He grinned when Kory shook his head. “Upon seeing a blind man, the disciples asked Jesus whether the man was blind because of his sins, or the sins of his parents, and Jesus told them it was neither, that he was blind ‘that the works of God may be made manifest in him.’ Jesus was saying that his affliction was not a punishment but a part of God’s plan.”

“But doesn’t that mean that it’s something I should fight? I mean, don’t blind people want to see?”

“They do, but sight may not be granted to them. In that case, of course, it was; Jesus healed the man and restored his sight. But I don’t think homosexuality is an affliction.” Kory winced at the word. “Yes, God does set trials for us. But I believe God loves us, and the trials he sets for us are designed to make us better people. I have seen the ordeals some people go through trying to fight their own nature. I do not believe that those trials are set by God.”

“Then why would He do this to me?” Kory hated to hear himself whine, usually.

“It is not for us to know God’s plan,” Father Joe said. “It is for us to live the best we can. Please take the card, Kory. They can help you more than I will be able to.”

Kory reached out and took the card in his fingers. It had a name and a web URL on it. He slipped it into a pocket and stood up. “Thanks, I guess,” he said. He’d been hoping for more, something definite, something supportive, rather than just vague ‘we can’t know what God wants for us.’

“One more thing, Kory. I just want you to hear again: God loves us. Maybe this is His way of showing you love.”

Unable to think of a response other than to repeat his thanks, Kory did so, and walked out.

Sal had invited him out to celebrate the end of his grounding, but he put him off ’til dinner. He wanted to be away from people he knew, and in the water. Samaki worked Saturday afternoons, so the municipal pool would be safe. Rather than swimming and racing through the lanes, he floated on his back with his paws behind his head and closed his eyes. Here, it was peaceful, and with his ears under the water, he couldn’t hear the shrieking of the guppies running around. The water helped settle his thoughts, helped him organize and sort through them. He kicked lazily off of one wall, paddled gently to the other, turned around without using his arms, and kicked off again. For over an hour he drifted back and forth, tail waving lazily in the water below him.