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"Lacey Anne, this isn't for us to talk about," he says. "It's Dean's business, and I have no idea. But the thing is, in this town, I don't think he'll ever know."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I mean that if he is gay, or questioning, or whatever, he'll never have a chance to find out," Ty says. "He'll squelch that part of himself because he'll see himself as evil. Because you all see it as evil."
"That's not true," I say. "Hate the sin, not the sinner."
"So you wouldn't hate him for being gay unless he actually *acted gay'?" Ty asks. "If he never did anything *wrong' by your standards, could you still be friends?"
He uses air quotes when he says "acted gay" and "wrong," and I don't like how he's making me sound like a zealot.
"The born-gay myth is pervasive," I say. "But h.o.m.os.e.xuality is a choice people make, and it's a choice to sin. Dean would never make that choice, because he's a good person who lives his life with G.o.d."
"Are you quoting a pamphlet?" Ty asks.
He looks at me with such disappointment that I turn my eyes to the gra.s.s so I don't have to see his face. The truth is, I am quoting what I've learned in church. Not a pamphlet, but my father and Pastor Frist for sure. They've always been the voices in the back of my head. I try hard to find my own words so Ty will know what I believe.
"Even if he did make that choice," I say, thinking about Dean possibly being gay, possibly exploring that world, "I know he would come back to the church."
"And you would forgive him," says Ty, sounding distressed.
"Yes!" I say. "We would welcome him home."
"As long as he gave up the gay lifestyle," says Ty, "and denounced who he is."
"Do you really think he's ... gay?" I whisper it this time, almost convinced now that it's true.
"No," Ty says. "I don't know. I don't think he knows. But I'm his good friend and I want him to be able to be who he is, either way."
"Oh my gosh," I say. "Dean might be gay."
"Lacey, don't get caught up in that," Ty says. "It isn't what I wanted to say. I was just using that as an example of your *bigger picture.' "
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"The church," Ty says. "I just ... I have these doubts."
"I know, we've talked about doubts," I say. "And I've had mine too-you know that better than anyone else." I think about how to phrase what I want to say, and I feel like I'm in a cla.s.s, discussing big thoughts and ideas, trying to get my head around it all. It feels exciting.
"The doubts are just because of these tiny things," I start again. "Things in our own lives that we're caught up in because we're sixteen and self-involved."
"Now you're quoting my father," Ty says.
"Well then, he's right," I say, smiling again, urging Ty to see things my way. "We're worried about the day-to-day drama, but G.o.d's got the whole universe on His mind. Like you said-it's the bigger picture. Even our h.e.l.l House isn't a huge part of that plan, but it's much, much bigger than the trivial things going on at school with Dean. Or even Dean being gay." I can't help but smile uncomfortably. "Ty, seriously, do you think he is?"
"Lacey," Ty says, staring mock sternly at me. "I'm trying to talk to you right now and you're stuck on that. It was just an example."
"Okay, go on," I say, stifling my nervous giggles.
"With Tessa, then," Ty says, "is it trivial that everyone at school talks like it was her fault alone that she got pregnant, like she sinned and Jeremy somehow didn't?"
"No one thinks that," I say, though I know they do. And I was fighting with my father about this very thing.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts-this isn't about Tessa. I'm trying to stay calm, almost like I'm channeling one of Pastor Frist's sermons, because this moment feels important.
"Okay," I say. "Maybe some people do say that about Tessa. But G.o.d has a bigger plan-He doesn't have time to care for each of our issues individually. That's why some unfair things happen in this town ... I mean, that's why people starve sometimes. And kill. There's a higher power at work, and there's not time for every issue to come out right."
"And it's our job to work on this higher level with G.o.d instead of paying attention to the individuals right in front of us, the ones we can care for and comfort now?" asks Ty.
He's so good at this-at talking and throwing ideas back at me. He reminds me of my father right now. I feel exhilarated and frustrated at the same time. I want to hold my own.
"It's our job to bring people to G.o.d," I say. "So that He can care for them and teach them how to act in His image."
"Well, Geoff and Jeremy are in the House of G.o.d all the time, but they sure don't *act in His image,' " says Ty.
More air quotes.
"Well, it's probably harder for some people than others," I say. Then I smile. "Or maybe Geoff still wants to play Mary like he did in kindergarten."
I nudge Ty, and his lips turn up a little bit but he won't give me a real smile.
"I'm kidding," I say. "You remember joking around?"
Ty smiles then, and I can tell he's picturing Geoff carrying around that Baby Jesus doll.
The air feels lighter around us for a moment, but then Ty frowns again.
"Lacey, this is serious," he says.
"Ty, I'm trying to understand you," I say, sighing.
"I know," he replies. "It's just that there's so much you don't know."
"I may not know a lot about the world outside of West River yet," I say. "But I know you. I know you're a good person." He turns his head away from me but I can tell that he's listening.
"I know you think h.e.l.l House is extreme," I say, trying to get the conversation going the way I want it to. "You're right-and it's meant to be. That's how we get people to understand how important having Jesus in their lives is."
"Lacey Anne, there are other ways," Ty says.
" *Others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire,' " I say, quoting Jude.
"Stop coming at me with other people's words," says Ty. "I want to hear your words. What do you think? How do you feel?"
"That is what I think," I say. "Those words tell the real truth of how I feel, without my own self-involvedness confusing me. That's what the Bible's there for. For me to lean on when I get in my own way."
Ty looks at me and his eyes go sad. His mouth slacks into a disappointed line.
I replay what I just said in my head. "That's what the Bible's there for. For me to lean on when I get in my own way." Sometimes I wonder why I don't trust my own thoughts. Should I be more brave? More confident, like Ty?
Before I can express any of this, though, Ty speaks.
"You're not the person I thought you were," he says. Then he stands up and walks away, leaving his sleeping bag with me.
I'm alone in Ulster Park, and I sit there for another few minutes, thinking about what Ty said, thinking about Dean, thinking about Tessa, thinking about G.o.d. I've always had these words, other people's words, in my head. They've rea.s.sured me, they've guided me, they've helped me choose the right path so many times. The Bible leads me, my pastor teaches me, my father rea.s.sures me.
But where are my words? No one's ever asked for them before. Ty is the first person to wonder what I think, deep down. How I feel. I thought I knew, but now I'm so confused.
How can I love this boy? He asks me questions and wants real answers from deep inside me. He challenges me and fights with me.
He kisses me. He makes me think outside myself. And maybe deeper inside myself too.
Did I mention that he kisses me?
I wonder how much the kissing scrambles my brain.
I watch the sun streaking in bright pinks and oranges, and I wait until it's dipped below the horizon before I get up to go home.
Chapter Twenty-four.
Ty isn't in school on Monday, and I consider showing up at his house after cla.s.ses-I'm not giving up on him-but then Dad calls a special Monday night h.e.l.l House rehearsal. We spread the word through our texting tree; each of us has to text two other YL members. He puts in a few understudies-one for me in Abortion, one for Graham Andrews in Domestic Violence, one for Ron Jessup in Cyberp.o.r.n-so some of the primary cast can walk through and see the effect of the scenes from the audience's perspective.
Starla Joy offers to be the Demon Tour Guide for the night, and I'm so proud of her as she gets into the role. Usually, the demons are all guys, so it's a big deal that she got this part. She's breaking boundaries. I make a mental note to tell Ty about that aspect of the show this year, how it's progressive.
Gay Marriage is still powerful-though I cringe a little bit knowing that Ty feels the way he does about the issue, and I can't help but let my mind wander to Dean again. I look over to where he's watching. His hands are tucked into the pockets of a black sweats.h.i.+rt, but his hood isn't up, at least. His new haircut has been growing out, and I know he's taking a little teasing because of the asymmetrical thing-the standard around here is pretty close cropped. But I've always been proud of Dean for being who he is. I don't like thinking that he might be hiding something. I push that thought from my mind. Ty said himself that Dean was just an example. He's not really ... he can't be.
After Mrs. Sikes takes her dying breath-which I think is a little overacted, to be honest-Starla Joy leads us into the choir room.
Domestic Violence is even better now that Dean has the breakable chair prop ready. He's been using the art room at school to put together a lot of the props, and he painted the chair bright red to make it stand out in the white-walled room.
Cyberp.o.r.n is hard to watch because the understudy, Brian Crosby, has to act really degenerate and simulate touching himself. "That's right!" yells Starla Joy, egging him on. "Your perverted desires will lead you straight to h.e.l.l, and you won't be able to log off from what Satan has in mind for aberrations like you."
When we get to Abortion, Starla Joy starts the lines that people hear in the hallway, on the way into the nursery, where my scene is staged.
"You've seen movies and read books about young love," she growls. "I want you to believe in that! I want you to believe in that feeling, that rush of sick pleasure that goes through your body when you're touched by impure thoughts!" Her voice is getting louder now, and she's practically yelling at us. I hadn't heard this lead-up to my scene performed, and I flash back, guiltily, to the night Ty and I were kissing in his car.
I wonder if Starla Joy is thinking of Tessa and Jeremy, of the way their relations.h.i.+p has gone. There is young love, isn't there? It isn't always wrong and dirty. Half of our parents were high school sweethearts. I try to catch her eye, but Starla Joy is too far gone. She's in character, and she's playing it well.
"Are you ready to see the s.l.u.t?" she shouts, spit flying from the corners of her mouth. "Are you ready to witness a wh.o.r.e making a choice?"
I feel my chest tighten a little, and when we walk into the room, I see that the hospital bed has arrived. I watch Laura Bergen say my lines. "It's my choice!" she's screaming. "It's my choice!"
"That's right," Starla Joy says, and now her demon voice is in full effect. She's rasping and snarling. "Kill your baby. Sin and belong to me! It's your choice."
She hisses, and I can't see anything of my friend in her eyes. She's transformed. It's a little shocking to see her this way. She's always been bolder than I am, but I had no idea she had this kind of dramatic energy inside of her.
Watching the action from this side is intense. The doctor, Randy Miller, is running around while Laura lies dying on the table. Dean has a new kind of fake blood this year that he promises looks completely real. It will be dripping down my legs as I slowly die from the procedure. I mean, not me, Abortion Girl. Seeing Laura play the role makes me all the more determined to do it justice. She's screaming, but it sounds softer than I want it to-I'm going to shriek like a banshee when I'm in that hospital bed.
Then there's the drug scene, where a guy who's become a junkie convinces his friends to shoot up with a needle. The script calls for the evil guy to be goth, with eyeliner and white powder on his face, but Dean objected to that and got Pastor Frist to agree that evil comes in many forms. "Regular-looking sinners are even more dangerous," Dean argued, and everyone saw his point.
The drug scene is followed by Drunk Driving, which is the first outdoor scene. We'll have a tent ready in case it rains, but the air in October is usually crisp and clear. We walk into the parking lot behind Starla Joy as she snarls, "Have another beer." She's facing Zack Robbins, who's stumbling around like he's been drinking a lot already, and Demon Starla Joy continues to entice him. "You'll fit in. You'll be cool. You'll be one of us." Then she cackles maniacally, and we watch as Zack gets behind the wheel of a car with two friends in it.
This was the scene I was originally cast in, and Jessica Thatcher is now in my role as the drunk guy's girlfriend. She's in the front seat, laughing and smiling until the moment that Zack acts out driving into a tree. Everyone in the car screams, jerking forward and backward, and the sound of breaking gla.s.s startles me. I didn't know that part was ready yet, but I look over at Dean and smile. "I have some of the audio rigged early," he says, and I can see he's really proud of his work.
Suicide is the scene we see right before heading into the Judgment part. We're out in the parking lot, and Geoff is just as powerful as he was when I saw him the other night. He's shaking with pain. I lock eyes with Starla Joy and I know she sees it too-how good he is, how right this part is for him. She says her lines to him. "Your parents hate you, you're a bottom feeder, you're trash. No one loves you. Where's your Jesus now?"
Geoff writhes and cries, holding the shaking gun up to his head. Starla Joy screams, "Do it!" and there's the sound of a single gunshot. Maryanne Duane jumps again, but the rest of us were ready for it. Geoff slumps over onto the sidewalk, and we hear the sound of loud hand clapping coming from the back of the parking lot.
"That's my boy!"
It's Mr. Parsons, Geoff's dad. As he walks toward us and into the light, everyone can see that he's stumbling drunk, his car keys jingling in his hand.
I hear Ron and Graham whisper back and forth nervously. "What's he doing here?" asks Ron.
Geoff looks up at his dad, and I think I see fear in his face. No one moves.
"I liked that, boy!" shouts Mr. Parsons, clamping a hand on Geoff's shoulder. Then he clenches his teeth and growls, "I like you telling the world how useless you are."
Maryanne gasps, but the rest of us just stay frozen.
"Dad, come on," Geoff says, standing up. "Let's just go home, okay?"
He reaches for the keys, but his dad jerks his hand out of reach. "You get your grubby hands away from my car!" shouts Mr. Parsons.
"Dad, please," Geoff says. And I can hear the desperation in his voice, see it in his eyes as he looks around and knows we're all watching, seeing, listening.
I knew there was something going on with Mr. Parsons, like that he's gotten into trouble at the local bar a few times and that he's not usually at church on Sundays, just sometimes, like on Easter. But now that I'm seeing it, what it really is, I feel a wave of sympathy wash over me. I look to my right, where Dean is standing. I can tell he's feeling it too.
There isn't another adult out here-no one's sure what to do. I look to Starla Joy, but she's just watching them.
I hear the back door of the church open and I see the outline of Pastor Frist's figure. He must be coming out to see why we haven't moved on to the next scene. I watch him scan the parking lot, and he sees what's going on instantly.
"Jimmy Parsons!" he says, jovial as always. He walks over to Geoff and Mr. Parsons and puts an arm around "Jimmy."
"Pastor Frist," says Mr. Parsons. "I'm gonna drive my boy home now. It's time for him to come home."
Geoff stares at the ground like the blacktop of the parking lot is the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
"The kids have rehearsal now," Pastor Frist says. "Let's go get a cup of coffee in the lobby. How does that sound? A nice cup of coffee."
Mr. Parsons lets Pastor Frist lead him inside, and Pastor Frist nods at Starla Joy as he pa.s.ses her. "Keep going," he says.