I stood on the front lawn tugging at my collar. Sweat poured off my forehead in beads, but it wasn’t the heat that made me uncomfortable as much as it was my clothes. Just yesterday I made a quick trip to a thrift store in Lexington and found the perfect costume consisting of a long sleeve white button down shirt and black slacks. I couldn’t find cheap dress shoes so decided to go in my sneakers, until Aunt Debbie asked why I was getting all dressed up. When I told her I was going to church, she made a big fuss and insisted I wear a pair of Bubba’s black dress shoes. As I adjusted my clothes, I, the lone wolf, attempted to blend in by imitating the sheep.

I took a deep breath before opening the big wooden door to the lion’s den, or perhaps the flock as they would call themselves. A chubby hand was thrust in my direction and that was my cue to grasp it firmly and shake. My cool, sweaty palms gave away my unease, but I looked into the plump, well-dressed, young man’s narrow set eyes and smiled, trying my best to look confident. He squeezed hard and patted my back. I returned an equal if not greater force to this subtle masculine contest where men are judged by first impressions.

“Hello friend, I’m Pastor Morrell. It’s nice to see a new face.”

“Nice to meet you too, Pastor. My name’s Travis McAllister. I’m in town visiting relatives and decided to check the place out.”

“Well, Travis, I hope you enjoy this morning’s service,” he said adjusting his tie.

I nodded, smiled and passed beyond the borders of the profane to the sacred.

The high ceiling, white, sterile walls and stained glass windows embodied that creepy feeling of holiness that I remember as a child. God, the terrifying ancient man with a long, white beard, dealt out punishment with a thunderous voice for sins committed against him.  Juxtaposed with Jesus, the emasculated, meek, and pure of heart son, they seemed more like Doctor Jeckle and Mr. Hyde. The bipolar nature of God terrified me. Until I met Ben, this was the image that haunted me my entire life. I scanned the room looking for that one familiar face that I longed to see among the pack of men in suits and women in dresses. Sitting near the back row, Jeff was easily recognizable by his unmistakable big nose and dark brown hair. He sat to the other side of his parents. I felt eyes dissecting me as I walked down the aisle. I claimed the space beside my resurrected lover on the smooth mahogany pew. He glanced over at me as I sat down. My heart pounded, and I entertained fantasies of reaching over and taking his hand. I kept my gaze forward, hoping that he might peek at me again.

Once we were all settled, pastor Morrell stood behind the podium and began the sermon. I caught Jeff looking at me. I pretended not to notice and smiled as if enjoying the speech.

“Please stand and turn to page 46 in your hymnals. We shall sing Rock of Ages.”

I stood without a hymnal and mumbled the words. Jeff glanced over and noticed my unease. Smiling, he patted my back and held his hymnal between us to share. I nodded, smiled and sang the words with him. A warm feeling poured through my soul. Tears welled in my eyes as we belted out the song. The pastor noticed our zeal and nodded. Jeff turned to me and smiled. He too put more force into his voice. I imagined us becoming friends again as my old crush was renewed. My happy tears contained the same hope that guided their faithful lives. To pass beyond the veil of death and greet awaiting loved ones in the next life was their hope and my reality. At that moment, I was in heaven.

The pastor directed us to sing another song “Shall We Gather At The River.” As we sang, it reminded me of the day Ben became a fish. I held back tears. Jeff put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. Others noticed Jeff’s gesture of affection and smiled.

Brother Morrell spoke on the topic of brotherly love. His words hit home. In a state of bliss, I sat beside my resurrected lover, yet he didn’t remember me. Later they passed the collection plate and I put in five bucks. Not only had I been entertained, but I was starting to feel some sort of bond forming between me and the flock.

When the service was over, we filed out row by row. Jeff turned to me and shook my hand.

“You seemed moved by the service. My name’s Jeff, by the way. What’s yours?”

“I’m Travis McAllister, and yes, it really affected me.”

“Nice to meet you, Travis. Travis, this is my mom and dad.”

A tall, gaunt, white-haired man presented a large calloused hand to be shaken. “Nice you meet you, son. I’m Paul Stewart and this is my wife Rachael.”

She wore a long, blue dress, black glasses, and an old lady curly perm. She gave me her frail hand and clasped mine with the other.

“So, where you from boy?” Paul said in a deep voice.

“I’m living in Chicago, but I’m here now visiting my uncle Bubba and aunt Debbie Hill. I was born and raised here.”

“I used to know a Peter McAllister near Judyville,” he said.

“Yeah? That was my pappaw. His son Jim is my dad and he lives in Phoenix now,” I said.

“Travis, would you like to join us for lunch?” said Rachael.

Jeff looked at me and smiled. “Mom makes great fried chicken,” he said with a wink and patted my shoulder.

“I suppose I could.”

As we filed out the door, pastor Morrell hugged the worshippers and shook their hands. He smiled and extended his hand to me. “I hope you enjoyed our service today, Travis.” He patted my arm as we shook hands.

“Yes, I found it quite moving,” I said.

In the parking lot, Mr Stewart showed me their car and told me to follow close behind. Jeff explained that his brother and their family would probably be at the farm along with his girlfriend. He winked and patted my back.

“See you there, Travis.”

I felt the dart sting as it pierced my heart. “Girlfriend? Did he say girlfriend?” I got in my car and sat behind the wheel. The excitement had died. “A girlfriend?” I rolled my eyes and started the car. They waited for me up ahead and waved their arms. I, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, pulled out of the parking lot and followed them down the road. I almost let myself believe that maybe I could have become one of the flock up until the moment Jeff said, “girlfriend”.

I arrived at the small farm at the edge of North Middletown. The gracious family invited me into their humble home. The men invited me to join them in their male bonding ritual of watching the Cincinnati Reds game, while the good womenfolk were expected to don aprons and prepare the food. Jeff sat beside me laughing and joking. He was just as lovely and masculine as I had remembered. Leonard, his wife and two kids showed up. They ran to Jeff with open arms.

“Hi, pops.” Leonard said as he kicked off his shoes by the door.  

“Leonard, this here is Travis. We met ‘em at church this morning. He’s here visiting family and we invited him to join us for lunch,” said Mr Stewart.

I stood and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Travis. Be right back, gonna say hi to Mom.”

Rachael walked in a while later and said lunch was ready.

The phone rang and Leonard answered, “Hello…yes he’s here. Jeff it’s Chloe. She said she will be here in a few minutes.”

Jeff yelled out, “Bye, Chloe!” as Leonard hung up the phone.  

We sat down to a big feast of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and rolls. Their dining room was small and cozy. Soon there was a knock at the door. Jeff perked up and ran to the door.

“Hey babe,” I heard him say from the other room.

“Am I late?” a female voice replied.

“Nah. We just now sat down,” said Jeff as he entered in the room with his arm around this beautiful young blonde woman. Jeff smiled and introduced me to his girlfriend Chloe. She smiled and waved.

“Nice to meet you, Travis.”

She took a seat next to Jeff and he kissed her cheek tenderly when they sat down.

“Can I help you, Mrs Stewart?” Chloe said.

“No honey, everything is ready. Come on in the kitchen and help yourselves.”

They were kind and asked me all sorts of questions. I told them about my brush with death this past spring and how I felt as if I were given a second chance. Mrs Stewart says it must have been God’s plan to have brought me back from the brink of death. I felt like an impostor as I sat eating lunch. My heart ached as Jeff and Chloe held hands, looking like a couple in love. My acting abilities were put to the test as I tried to hide my sadness and jealousy. The pattern once again repeated itself. Having a crush on a guy, then to fall in love, only to lose the guy to a girlfriend. This is what their God wants and expects from his followers, I thought. I’m the abomination in the eyes of their God. Surely this was my punishment for being gay. They did look like a great couple though, and that just made the pain worse.

After dinner, I thanked them for their hospitality. Jeff and Chloe hugged me warmly before I left. I smiled and waved as I pulled out of their driveway. Once safely out of sight, the dam that held back my tears burst, and I found myself sobbing and weak. I, the defeated wolf, yanked off the white shirt and drove away with my tail between my legs.