(by Edward Zeusgany and Alex Anders, © copyright 1999, all rights reserved)

The Rev. Alan Whittier’s problems began when his assistant minister left for a church of his own in upstate Maine. No doubt, in time, the recently departed would gradually work his way back south to the more prosperous congregations. Reverand Whittier, in the middle of that same journey, was now in the town of Eastfield, Massachusetts, a populous, lower middle class community.

As is the usual arrangement, the assistant had directed youth programs. The minister’s call for volunteers to manage these tasks until a new person could be found, probably a June graduate from some small theological seminary, had received a lukewarm reception. All too gradually, he had found someone for everything except their entry in the church basketball league, an activity developed for boys of junior high school age.

His protests that he wasn’t qualified to direct this effort were laughed off. This wasn’t high level sport, after all. All that was required was a driver’s license and the ability to handle the Church van when it was full of adolescent boys. They were taking on extra tasks, so could he. The counseling of engaged couples might take place on Saturday afternoons just as well as mornings. So the Reverend Whittier sat on the bench with the other substitutes, while the captain of the team and best player ran things.

Paul always managed to set next to him. A tall, but awkward player, he was used sparingly. Instead he engaged Alan in nearly continuous conversation. The boy was a bag of insecurities and in constant need of reassurance. The minister tried to help, but as soon as he seemed to be getting somewhere with one problem, Paul dropped it and advanced another. The youth hung on Alan’s every word and gazed at him with fervent eyes.

The youngster was so earnest, so needy, so becoming. Looking at the kid was torture. Alan was forced to remember his own youthful struggle. He had been terrified of his attraction to other boys, he knew it was wrong, perverted, sinful. Only church and prayer gave him the control to fight against the thoughts and feeling that flooded his mind and body. Even so there were temptations.

*****

The first week of the summer of Alan’s fourteenth year, he attended a camp run by his denomination. Each little cabin held only two beds. Unluckily for Alan, his cabin mate, Bobby, was an attractive, cheerful boy from another town. They found that they enjoyed each other’s company and quickly became friends.

One morning on the way to breakfast, thinking that Alan needed to be lifted out of his still drowsy state, Bobby goosed him. They tousled a bit and Alan, without considering the consequences, retaliated with a goose of his own. After that he was lost. The wrestling and goosing continued with increasing frequency, particularly when they were alone in the cabin.

One afternoon, Alan was on top of Bobby, on the other boy’s bed. Alan’s hand was firmly wedged in his chum’s backside, giving him the goose of all time, when Bobby started to cry. Alan, shocked by his own behavior, jumped up, retreating to his own cot. He quickly apologized and promised not to do anything like that again.

Then Bobby turned over, laughing. It had been a joke. But it was not a joke to Alan. A few minutes previous, while the two boys were entwined, Alan had decided that, when night fell, he would see if Bobby would let him come into his bed. Except for the prank, he would have tried, and might have been accepted. Alan knew how close he had come to disaster.

The relationship between the two boys was altered. Alan became more reserved. A few weeks after returning home, he received a letter from Bobby. The other boy hoped they could visit each other. Alan did not respond. He was sad because he liked Bobby so very much.

*****

Alan’s Protestant denomination tended to be liberal and he felt that his church was not strict enough for him. Eventually he heard, overheard actually, that there was a more conservative congregation in a neighboring community. As soon as he obtained his driver’s license, he joined it. There he received the reinforcement he wanted. Alan felt comfortable with the other people and finally with himself. He adopted their views on all matters; theological, cultural, and political..

The boy’s fervor attracted the attention of his new pastor. Summoning the lad to his office, the minister asked Alan if he had ever thought of becoming a preacher. Until that moment, he hadn’t, but it made perfect sense to the youngster. He loved Christ and the Church, why shouldn’t it be his whole life.

Although the conservative wing of his denomination was small, they did support a bible college in Pennsylvania and a seminary in Vermont. Alan thought that a number of his fellow students were suffering from the same affliction that bothered him. Their sweet sincerity would have been more troubling, if he had lived in the dormitory. Instead he resided with a local family consisting of a man, a wife and two daughters.

Because of his outstanding scholastic record and staunch beliefs, fostered gently, he was called immediately to his own church in northern New York. For some reason, the conservative churches tended to be small and located in the poorer communities. These he served for ten years, while his views gradually moved toward the middle. He had seen the effects of excessive strictness in some families and on his own advancement.

During this time, Rev. Whittier married the oldest daughter of the family he had lived with in Pennsylvania, a nice girl, who aspired to be a minister’s helpmate. They were good friends and had two children, a boy and a girl. It was a model Christian family, as befitted a man of the cloth, and a substantial asset in Alan’s quest to shepherd a larger flock.

In Eastfield, only the Catholic Church was bigger. Officially mainstream, members of his new congregation held diverse views, but with more conservatives than liberals and a large group that was neither. The search committee recommended the compromise candidate and Alan was chosen to replace the retiring and much loved Rev. Andrews. Before moving to Arizona, the Rev. Andrews had four weeks to equip the Rev. Whittier with essential knowledge of the history of church, its influential members, and hidden pitfalls. There was barely enough time.

*****

Six years later, people still made occasional mention of how Rev. Andrews used to do things. Then the assistant minister, a man Alan had recruited, filling a position Alan had worked hard to get his governing board to create, left for better things. The young man had done a good job. Prior to his arrival there hadn’t been much of a youth program. Now everyone wanted the opening filled as soon as possible.

One Thursday afternoon, a troubled Paul came to see Rev. Whittier in his office. There was a large window with a view of an adjacent blank wall. But there was also a window seat that Alan often used in order to put people at ease rather than face them across a desk. Even so, Paul was having a hard time getting to whatever was bothering him.

Finally he managed, “Some of the kids keep calling me a fag.”

“Kids can be cruel,” the Rev. Whittier began, “They don’t ...”

“But I am a fag,” Paul interrupted.

“Paul, you’re too young to know ...”

“I know,” the boy said, despondently. He began to cry.

Alan put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Now Paul, you can’t know,” he said softly. “I had the same sort of feelings when I was your age.”

“You did?” the youngster murmured incredulously, between sobs.

Alan rocked the lad gently, then made his mistake. He kissed Paul on the forehead, the same as he might hold and kiss one of his own children. Paul misunderstood, or didn’t, throwing his arms about Alan’s neck and kissing him on the lips. For a while they were both out of control, touching and clutching in mutual desperation.

*****

There was no going back for either of them. Since both of Paul’s parents were employed outside the home, it was possible for them to rendezvous in Paul’s bedroom on weekday afternoons. Alan would undress the boy with his own hands, kiss his whole body, ending with fellatio. Occasionally Paul was in a particularly good mood and would use his mouth on Alan, but usually offered only a hand, requiring Alan to finish by himself more often than not.

The sensitive Paul was aware of Alan’s unexpressed feelings of guilt. This further undermined his already fragile self confidence. They tried to be happy together, but the result was forced and hollow. They needed each other, but were unable to connect in a really meaningful way. Each was dissatisfied, but unwilling to give it up.

*****

Previous to beginning his affair with Paul, the Rev. Whittier had noticed, but not thought much about, the boy’s friendship with another youngster. Lance was not a member of the basketball team, but the two boys often formed a pair at other church functions. Their whispered conversations were animated and punctuated with the sort of tittering one expected more from a couple of girls.

Alan wasn’t sure what it was that annoyed him. He thought that Paul should be less demonstrative, that his behavior called attention to itself in a way that was unwise. But perhaps he was jealous that the two boys could be friends openly, while he had to pretend to be indifferent to the lad. Then again, what was Paul saying to Lance that was so funny?

*****

Lance thought of Paul and himself as being like sisters. They talked about clothes and hair and shared their fantasies. They told each other everything, or so Lance thought until he began to notice that something was going on between Paul and the Rev. Whittier. He saw the two of them in brief exchanges with Paul trying to look casual. Other times he saw them pass each other without a glance. When he asked Paul about it, his friend pretended that he didn’t know what Lance was talking about.

He was pretty sure that he knew what was going on and was annoyed that Paul was holding out on him. Deciding to check things out for himself, Lance went to Rev. Whittier’s house on a Saturday afternoon and said that he needed to speak to him in private. Not knowing how much Lance knew, Alan agreed.

The Whittiers had a medium sized camper that they took on vacations. Parked in the side yard, Rev. Whittier used it as a home office the rest of the time. It gave him a quiet place to prepare his sermons and to counsel parishioners. Certain that he wanted privacy for this chat, Alan brought the boy there.

“I suppose Paul has told you that he and I are really close,” the youngster began. Rev. Whittier nodded. “We’re the only gay boys in our class,” Lance continued as though the Reverend already knew this. He followed this with the non sequitur, “We both think you’re really handsome.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alan relaxed his guard. Visions of blackmail had been floating in his mind. They should have been, but it wasn’t money Lance wanted. “I give a great blow job,” the boy said.

Even under these conditions, Alan was highly stimulated by the sight of the youngster kneeling between his spread legs, his head bobbing up and down. It turned out that Lance was a lot more agreeable to be with than Paul. He saw the lad on Saturday or Sunday afternoons and sometimes twice on a weekend. Whatever feelings of coercion Rev. Whittier might have had at the beginning soon dissipated.

*****

Lance could not resist telling Paul about his boyfriend. At first he hinted around until he got Paul asking questions. Pretending reticence, he wouldn’t give the name, but said that it was someone Paul knew. In between clues, Lance would ask his friend if there was anything new happening in his life. “I can tell something’s going on,” Lance teased. He couldn’t believe that Paul hadn’t figured it out, the hints were so obvious, but the shock on Paul’s face when Lance named his lover was proof.

Paul broke off his friendship with Lance and his affair with Rev. Whittier. He was so depressed that one of his teachers noticed and bought it to the attention of the school guidance counselor. Ms. Owens called Paul in and asked the youth if anything was bothering him. Paul shook his head no in a way that meant yes. Ms. Owens assured Paul that anything he said was confidential and would go no further. She only wanted to help him if she could. Talking about one’s problems often helped a person to feel better, she said. However, what Paul told her about were multiple instances of child sexual abuse that, by law, had to be reported to the police.

*****

Paul admitted everything and implicated Lance. Lance admitted everything. Faced with the statements of the two boys, Rev. Whittier admitted everything. He pled guilty and received a five year, suspended sentence.

*****

Paul became suicidal, but couldn’t think of a way to do it that wouldn’t hurt or be messy. His parents sent him to a psychiatrist. Dr. Marchetti told Paul’s parents that the youngster had plenty of problems, but that his homosexual orientation, per se, wasn’t one of them. He recommended two sessions a week. Astounded, they refused. Paul didn’t get professional help until he had graduated from college and had a good job in Albany. He has had a large number of unsatisfactory relationships and is still in therapy.

Lance’s father beat him up and threw him out of the house. His mother arranged for Lance to go to her unmarried sister in Chesterfield. Agnes, a lesbian separatist, wasn’t pleased about having any “swinging dicks,” as she put it, around her place, but recognized her duty and did it. Realizing that his welcome was strained, Lance got a part time job, with Agnes’s encouragement and assistance. This was not for board and room, because his mother saw to that. Right after high school graduation, Lance moved to San Francisco, got a job at a gay bar as a cocktail waiter/bus boy/go for/drudge and worked his way up to bartender. When he returned to Agnes some years later, both had grown up quite a lot. This time she was sorry to see him to go.

The Rev. Whittier lost his job, his wife and his family. One of the few parishioners who would speak to him told Alan about the ex-gay movement. It seemed like salvation. Looking into it, he found that they were delighted to help. He did so well that he got his own church again, in Indiana. Alan married for the second time, a divorcee with two children, five and six. The neighbor women all said that the handsome boys were sure to be heartbreakers when they grew up.

Table of Contents :