(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders, © copyright 1998, all rights reserved)

Brian and Patsy were happy, life was good to them. They had a parcel of kids, three daughters and two sons, and a sixth child on the way. Brian had a good job, Patsy had a nice house. Then, to top it off, they and the new priest, Father Denny, had taken a liking to each other. Far from his origins, they had become his adopted family.

Father Denny took a meal with them at least once a week. He was included in their family celebrations and holidays. They made an event of his birthday. With all these kids, it was handy to have the eyes of another adult available, not to mention the beneficial influence of such close contact with a man of the Church.

When the new baby arrived, the infant Matthew and Father Denny formed an immediate and special bond. The child delighted in the Priest’s presence, a condition that persisted from year to year. The parents thought it charming and it was a sight to see them together, a rugged, handsome man in black and a beautiful boy with flaming red hair.

Some people are beautiful for a season, for a year or two, before they become ordinary again. Many never have even that. But Matthew was unusually good looking from the beginning. Now, at almost thirteen, they called him handsome, though it was beauty in fact, a definite masculine beauty, but beauty none the less.

The youngster was always dragging Father Denny off to his bedroom for private chats, whenever he could get away with it. Brian and Patsy sometimes wondered what they had so much to talk about during the last few months. This became clear when Father Denny suggested to them that it was just possible Matt might be interested in the priesthood. But he cautioned them not to speak of it, because the boy was not yet ready to make a commitment. It was difficult for Patsy, in particular, to contain herself, such was her joy.

*****

Matt and Father Denny were not feeling joyful. A few months ago, in confidence, Matthew had informed the priest that he believed himself to be Gay. Dennis advised the boy that it was quite normal for a youth his age to have temporary feelings of this sort. Matt insisted that he had been having these thoughts for quite some time, had resisted them, that they had grown stronger not weaker, and that he was as certain as he could be..

When some time latter nothing had changed, Father Denny told Matthew of his own homosexual feelings, how he had struggled with them, the role they had in his becoming a priest. Since the only correct option for a Gay person was celibacy, this was an honorable way to serve the community and the Church. He insisted, though, that Matthew was too young to be sure of his sexual orientation.

Matt indicated that the priesthood might be the right thing for him. But the times were different than the 1950’s when Father Denny had been young. Neither Gay liberation nor AIDS were new anymore. Everyone knew about them and everyone knew, like it or not, that there were opportunities now that did not exist then. Being Gay no longer necessarily meant a life of misery and hiding. One might lose friends and even family, but there were other friends and other family to be found, the boy said. Dennis counseled against such ideas.

The training one received in preparation for holy orders, Father Denny pointed out, enabled a person to withstand temptations, to bear difficulties, to accept loss, to face anything. The sacrifice of one’s sexuality was nothing as compared to the suffering of the Lord. This life, after all, was brief, the joy of being one with God was for eternity.

Things got worse. Matt confronted Father Denny demanding to know if he was Gay himself. Dennis countered that he had never done anything, so he wasn’t. Matthew said that he was in love. With who, the priest wanted to know. The answer fell like a blow, with him the boy asserted. And wasn’t Dennis in love with him, he insisted on knowing.

Of course, Father Denny assured the lad, but not that way. This was the truth, if not the whole truth. For Dennis, Matt had not yet reached the age that he found most erotically stimulating. But when the boy became a youth of eighteen, maybe even as young as sixteen, given that he already had a deep emotional attachment to Matthew, he would then have a serious struggle on his hands. It would be particularly difficult if Matt still wanted him and was prepared to take the initiative.

*****

One Saturday in early fall, after serving as alter boy at morning Mass, Matt went to Cinema 10. In a depressed mood, he deliberately selected a movie that he thought no other kids would choose. He didn’t want to be in a crowd. In fact, practically no one wanted to see this film.

Theater number 7 was deserted. He had gone in fifteen minutes before the scheduled start. He went two thirds of the way down the aisle and took the last seat on the left, next to the wall. They were showing advertising slides of drug stores and car dealerships. He watched them repeat twice and then, still feeling morose, he closed his eyes until he heard the beginning of the coming attractions. Looking about, Matt saw that only a few people had taken seats, all far away from him. He was glad of that.

However, shortly after the start of the feature presentation, a man entered his row and sat in the seat next to him. At first this annoyed him, but he didn’t change his seat, even though the man’s knee was touching his. The glimpse he had was of an ordinary person in early middle age wearing a tan wind breaker and brown pants. When the man pressed his knee more firmly against Matt’s, he remained inert, allowing his leg to be moved, but not returning the pressure.

When Harry did this, he expected that the boy would scoot, perhaps making a fuss that would require him to leave quickly. It had been necessary to force himself to move from the back of the theater where he had been watching. He was both fearful of the risk he was taking and exhilarated by it. Twin feelings of panic and desire were growing within him.

When the man placed a hand on the top of his leg, it was Matt’s turn to feel fright and excitement. He was tired of not having the life he was meant to have, and a bit angry about it. On the other hand, this was not really what he had in mind, an anonymous man and a quick feel in the dark. Maybe he didn’t want this, but what else had been offered him. He made himself be still, neither accepting or rejecting. Nor did he react when the man gave his leg a gentle squeeze.

Harry was thrilled when the boy did nothing. The lad may be somewhat dull, he speculated, that would explain this docility. The beginnings of a plan entered his mind, but first he wanted to test matters a little further. Gradually, he slid his hand to the inner thigh and up toward the boy’s crotch. There was no reaction.

Matt could feel the edge of the man’s hand against his scrotum. His erect penis was positioned to the other side. and in the crease made by his left leg and abdomen. Twice the man rubbed his hand against his testicles. It occurred to Matt that the man might open his pants right there in the theater. Instead, the man whispered to him.

“How about if I buy you a hamburger?” Harry suggested. The boy said, “OK.” Harry stood and the kid followed carrying his sweat shirt. In the lobby he said, loud enough for anyone to hear, “I’m sorry son, not a very good movie I’m afraid.”

Outside Matt noticed that the man was starting to get bald and that his shoes were plain but new. He walked with the fellow three blocks to a side street where his car, a two year old Chevy, was parked. He waited at the curb while the man unlocked the driver’s door, got in, and flipped the lock on the passenger’s side. He got in still holding his sweat shirt.

When they passed by the two most likely fast food establishments, Harry anticipated that the kid would get anxious. “I want to show you a favorite place of mine, first,” he said. This seemed satisfactory as the boy did not fidget.

At the outskirts of town the man pulled into the entrance of Forest Grove Park. Matt was relieved that the guy wasn’t going to take him out of the city. So this is where it’s done, he realized. He could easily come out here on his bicycle.

There were only a few cars in the parking lot and Harry chose a slot away from these. The boy left his sweat shirt in the car and followed along behind him as he took a path into the woods. Five minutes latter he left the path, guided by land marks familiar to him, finally pushing through some thick brush that led to a small, deep basin.

Matt liked the leaf strewn spot with the sun streaming through a hole in the canopy of trees. The man came to him, put out a hand to stroke his cheek and his neck. Then he undid the top button of his shirt.

“Time to get everything off,” he said.

“It’s kind of cool today,” Matt commented. He had expected the man to take his pants down, but had not figured that he would be stripped naked. He did not care for this turn of events. This was hardly the man of his dreams, then again, that man wasn’t available. He decided to accept what was available.

“It will only be for a few minutes,” Harry countered, noting that the lad did not resist as his shirt was removed. Barely able to control his own shaking, he squatted down to finish the job. When he had untangled the boy’s pants and shorts from around the ankles, he stood up. The kid’s face was expressionless, but he had a hard on.

Placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders he turned him around. He was perfect. Harry’s heart was pounding and his head was reeling with terror. This could be the only chance he would ever have, he thought, unzipping his fly. He had to do it, he told himself. He had to. Roughly taking the boy to the ground, he shoved into him.

Matt was shocked and in pain. He had landed on a stick and the broken off stub of a branch was gouging into his ribs, matching the distress in his rectum. He struggled, but the man was too heavy. This made the pain in his side worse and the other pain less. Then the man got off him.

Although the kid had not yelled, Harry could see tears running down his cheeks. Now another kind of panic seized him. The boy would tell, he was sure of it. As Matthew struggled to get into his pants, Harry picked up a rock about the size of two fists and smashed his head in.

*****

The body was found late that afternoon by a couple of older teenagers. Matt had been carrying identification, so there was quick notification to the family of what had happened. The news spread through the neighborhood and to the rectory. Father Denny went to the house as soon as he heard.

Patsy was grief stricken, the two youngest daughters had been tranquilized, Brian was silent, withdrawn. Brian, Jr. was openly hostile to him though he did not say why. Dennis knew that Matt must have said something to his older brother that prompted this attitude. The mother’s only solace was that Matthew had just been to confession, so must have died in a state of grace. The priest doubted this and kept it to himself. As Matt’s family became increasingly less hospitable to him, Father Denny stayed away.

Dennis had no one to help him with his grief and self doubt. He pondered his own role and responsibility and wondered if he had failed the boy. He was sure that he had done the proper thing, had he done the right thing? He prayed for the soul of Matthew, for his family and for himself. He read the gospels and meditated on the message of redemption.

The day before the funeral, he was interviewed by the police for the first time. They asked about the nature of his relationship with Matt. Later, at the police station, he was asked for his movements on the day of the rape and murder. He had spent much of the day alone in his room. He had no alibi, but neither was there any evidence against him. He hadn’t done it after all.

The case remained unsolved. Dennis’s usefulness to the parish diminished and he was reassigned out of state. Every few year’s the case was revisited by the newspapers and investigators. Matthew’s father, beyond all reason became convinced of Dennis’s guilt. They would send someone to New Mexico to question him yet again.

*****

Harry didn’t sleep or eat for the first four days and nights. He watched the news, read the papers and drank coffee. He was disgusted by what he had done, but it was either him or the boy. It was his awful obsession that got him into that sordid situation. He had resisted it as long as he could. Killing the kid was horrible, but an act of self defense.

As a salesman, he was supposed to call in daily with a list of contacts made. Instead he called in sick. After two weeks of that, he was fired. He packed up and moved to another city a thousand miles away. He soon found employment.

In his new apartment, rather than go out, he spent long hours watching television. Cute boys tried to sell him breakfast products or were busy helping adults solve crimes. He sometimes took out Matthew’s sweat shirt and would sit holding it to his breast, rocking back and forth. It reminded him of the terrible act that he had committed, and it reminded him of his desire.

It was a whole year before he could make himself go to the movies.

*****

Initiation of the hunt, danger of a false move. Opportunities for success, fear of discovery. Excruciating discipline yet self controled, Deliberate and calm while fiercely excited. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of arousal. The excitement, the terror, the ferment, the risk. The danger! The rush! The fear! The thrill! Ah,! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

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