Part III. Judgment Day
Eric and Annie Camden sat on the futon that served as a couch in their son's tiny apartment, sipping at the glasses of lemonade he'd given them. Both kept sneaking quick peeks around the room, which was sparsely and cheaply furnished but extremely neat. Simon knew that they were trying to guess what he was like now by studying the things in his apartment, which they had never seen before, and once again he felt a pang of guilt at having distanced himself from them so thoroughly. He was determined to try to make it right. He took a deep breath and told himself, zero hour. Now or never, Simon, just spit it out.
"Mom … Dad … um … well, the fact is, I wanted us to come back here to my apartment before dinner because … um … there's something I … um … I wanna say. To you."
Oh God, he was screwing this up. He sounded like an idiot. He swallowed and tried again.
"Actually, there's something that I've got to tell you. Something important."
Eric and Annie sat and looked at Simon expectantly. His mother was smiling at him, and his father still had that I'm-proud-of-you-son gleam in his eyes. They had no idea at all.
And with that realization, his courage failed completely. I can't do this to them, he thought wildly. I just can't. I don't know how they'll take it. What if Mom cries? What if Dad has another heart attack? Simon's own heart seemed to be pounding furiously in his throat; how would his father's weakened heart be able to handle the stress?
Then Lucy caught his eye from her perch on the barstool in the corner. "Simon, you can do this," her look told him, as clearly as if she had spoken out loud. He felt his determination come flowing back. He had to go on. It was too important.
Closing his eyes, he said it at last. "I guess what I want to tell you is that I'm gay."
He opened his eyes. They were still sitting there in the same exact positions on the couch. Their faces had changed, though. He watched as the realization of what he'd said and what it meant played over their faces.
Panicking again, he blurted out, "The thing is, I've known this for a really long time. I know you're going to say that I'm too young to know for sure, but you're wrong. I've known for years, and it's not from going to school here, either, because I knew it before I came here. You're going to say that I might change my mind later, but I'm not going to. I've tried to change before, I really did, and the only thing I learned is that I'm not going to change. Well, that's not true, because I also learned that I don't have to change. So you see, I went out here to try to work through this without having to hurt everybody, and I've done it. Now I want to tell you, because you're important to me, and I don't want to have to hide from you guys for the rest of my life. And that's why I'm telling you now." His voice trailed off finally, and he slumped in his armchair, unable to look at his parents, waiting for them to respond.
Silence blanketed the room. Simon heard the ticking of his alarm clock on the windowsill and with each tick his dread grew. He'd blown it. This was going to be even worse than he'd expected.
His mother spoke first. "Well, thank you, Simon," she said witheringly. "Thank you very much for telling me exactly what I'm going to say about all this. I really appreciate you taking care of that for me."
From her corner, Lucy mumbled, "Mom, please …"
"You keep out of this, Lucy," Annie snapped. She turned back to her son. "The thing is, Simon, you actually haven't figured out what I am going to say about this. You haven't even come close."
Simon started to say something, but his mother just talked right over him.
"There's so many things that I'm angry about right now," Annie stated, "I don't even know where to begin. But I think I'll start with your incredibly insensitive lack of timing. The first time you see us in two years, when we've flown out to just to see you because we've missed you so much, and you decide to spring this on us."
"Well, I tried to explain that --"
"But over and above that, you seem to have conveniently overlooked that fact that what you are telling me is wrong. Morally wrong. Were you hoping that I would be so dazzled by your logical explanations that I wouldn't notice that?"
"No, of course not. I don't know why I said all that, it just came out --" He winced.
"Simon, are you pulling my leg?" Annie's voice rang off the walls of the tiny apartment. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
"No! I'm telling you the truth! Listen, Mom, I know I'm not explaining myself very well, but –"
"No, Simon, you listen to me. This is not the way that I raised you. When I sent you off to college you were a good boy. You had values. And now you're going to come to me and tell me something like this!"
"Mom," Simon said desperately, "I still do have values. I'm the same person I've always been; it's just that now I'm trying to be completely honest with you, and I never was before."
"Simon, you don't know what you're talking about. I raised you to believe in God's law, and you know what God's law says about …"
"There's another perspective on that, actually. I've talked to ministers, spiritual people with a lot of learning about the Bible, and they say –"
"Oh, and you believe these people before you believe your own parents? Is that what they've taught you at this school?"
"Mom, if you'd just calm down for a minute and let me explain --"
"This is no casual little disagreement and you know it. It drove you away from your family for two years already. But without getting into all that, I want you to tell me how you know you're . . . that way. Have you actually been living like that for the past two years, while we were supplementing your tuition payments and sending you care packages?"
Simon said nothing. How could this get any worse? he wondered.
"Answer me, Simon!"
"Yes," Simon replied through gritted teeth.
"Well, I guess you're not exactly living by what we've taught you, are you? Your father and I have always taught you that sex outside of marriage is wrong, and none of your brothers and sisters seemed to have any problems with this."
"But it's not the same thing at all! You said that everybody has feelings, but we should resist temptation until the time is right, and then your feelings will be right too. But according to you, my feelings are nothing but wrong, all the time, and they can't ever be right! Why do I have this burden that nobody else has?"
"Why? Because we're talking about sin here!"
Very quietly, Simon said, "Mom, if you believe that being gay is a sin, then you believe that I'm a sin. Because it's what I am."
"That is completely untrue! Simon," Annie pleaded, sitting down again and looking into her son's eyes, "Trust me, I know that's not what you are. I am your mother." She was definitely crying now.
Simon felt as though he was trying to breathe around a giant ragged wound in his chest. "It's just not that simple. It's not something I chose or some sin I committed, it's me. I … I guess I can't really explain it any better than that."
Annie stood up again, raising herself to her full height. "Well, if that's the best you can do, I'm sorry, but you've failed to convince me." She grabbed her purse and fished around in it for a minute, finally pulling out a long, thin envelope. "I just want to show you this before I go. This –" she threw it down on the milk crate that served as a coffee table – "was a surprise for you. It's a plane ticket back to Glenoak. I was foolish enough to think that you might want to come back and see your family. But now I realize, you've got everything you need here. You've got your life all worked out, and you've got people who will tell you that what your parents raised you to believe is wrong, and living in sin is right. So I guess I should have saved my money."
"Mom," Simon whispered, "please don't do this."
Ignoring him, Annie stomped over to the door and opened it. "Sorry, but I think I'll be skipping dinner tonight." The door slammed resoundingly behind her, and the three Camdens left in the room listened as her footsteps rang out on the linoleum floor in the hall until she reached the door to the stairwell and slammed it as well.
In the silence that followed, Simon looked at his father, who still hadn't said a word. The reverend's face looked more shocked than anything else. Simon stared desperately at him, wanting him to say that he understood, that Simon's words hadn't changed everything just like he'd feared they would.
Eric cleared his throat. "I think your mother has probably said everything I could say." He spoke in the clipped, angry voice he had always used to his kids when he'd grounded them.
So that was it, Simon thought; there wasn't any reason to go on hoping. Now all he could do was wait for the scene to play itself out to the end.
"Simon, just because you have an excuse doesn't mean that you're right. I hoped that you'd learned that by now. You know very well that these feelings are misguided, and that you need to reject them. These are not my rules, they're God's rules. Remember that. You always did think that you had all the answers, even when you were barely old enough to talk."
Simon decided to try one last appeal. "Dad, I know I've been lying to you, and I'm sorry. Now I want the lying to stop. I've worked so hard to try and get my life together, and now I've found a way to be happy and to be myself, and I really want us to be a family again. Can we maybe just agree to disagree for now? You know, just think it over, and maybe when things are a little more calm, we can try to talk about it again? I don't want to just end here, like this."
"No, Simon, I don't think I can agree to that."
"Oh." Simon hung his head so his father wouldn't see him trying not to cry. "Okay then. I guess that's it."
Eric Camden stood up and crossed his arms, facing his son, who was slumped down in his armchair, looking defeated. "Well, I'd better not keep your mother waiting any longer. I think you know that what you are doing is wrong. I can't punish you anymore, so it's up to you to do the right thing yourself. I really hope that's what you decide to do."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Lucy sat frozen. The air still rang with her mother's angry words and her father's recriminations, and she felt consumed with shame and guilt. If she was feeling this way, what must Simon be feeling?
He was still sitting in the armchair, looking down at the floor. He stayed in place for several minutes, holding his back rigid as if he was warding off blows. Then she heard him sigh, and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the chair.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. "That went well, wouldn't you say?" he asked, smiling wryly. She could see that his eyes were full of tears, but he was trying hard not to shed them.
"Simon, they don't mean it. They're upset, that's all."
"Oh. I don't know about that. I think they do mean it. They certainly seemed to make that clear."
"No, you can't believe that," Lucy insisted. "You have to look at it from their point of view. You've been gone two years; now they come out to see you and they hear something they never expected. They're … surprised. You just have to give them time. They're not ready to accept it yet."
"So says Lucy Camden, eternal optimist."
"Oh come on, Simon. I know you're not as cynical as you always pretend to be. They'll have to talk to you again eventually. You're their son."
"Only because they haven't formally disowned me. They did remember to banish me from the house, though."
"Stop it, Simon! You can't think that way. You have to give them a chance. You knew they were going to be upset when you told them, just like I was upset when you told me, but you gave me a chance to get over it and realize that you're more important to me than … somebody else's opinions on what's right and what's wrong."
"Don't you mean God's opinions, Lucy? That's what Dad says, and he would know. Aren't God's opinions important to you?"
"How can you play devil's advocate at a time like this?" Lucy cried, feeling her own tears rising in her throat. "Look, Simon, you know that I follow my heart, I always have. And my heart tells me that no matter what, God would not want people to feel scared and alone all the time. God is not about making people hate themselves. I really, truly believe that. And since Mom and Dad are the people who taught me to believe these things, I think that sooner or later, they'll come to that conclusion themselves." Trying to calm down, she clenched her fists and took a deep breath. "I know I'm not saying this well. I'm sure, if you tried, you could find all kinds of holes in my thinking and pick them apart. You're good at that kind of thing, and I'm not. All I'm really saying is that I love you, Simon, and I want you to be happy. I can't put it any other way."
Simon was scowling down at the carpet again. She watched him as he rubbed the toe of his shoe against the milk crate/coffee table for several minutes, getting control of himself. When he at last raised his head, the tears were gone, and his face seemed more peaceful.
"Thanks, Lucy." He leaned back against the chair again. "Believe me, none of this is anything I haven't been over in my head a thousand times. I don't really know what to think of it all either. But I've found people who believe that you can be gay and still have faith. I'm trying to work it all out for myself." He sighed. "I just wish it didn't have to be so difficult. I mean, why me? Why do I have to be different? Sometimes I think it would be so easy to just pretend I am who they want me to be. Hide all the parts of my life that Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of. Live two lives and never let them overlap at all, just the way I've been doing here at college."
"But you can't."
"No, I can't. It hurts too much. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. I was hiding something from everybody, all the time."
"Well, for what it's worth, I admire you for having the courage to do this."
"And I am really, really glad that you were here to help me."
"Not that I was much help."
"More than you realize. Believe me."
He was smiling for real now, and she smiled back, grateful that he seemed to be feeling a little better. He got up and collected the glasses that Annie and Eric had left half-full. She saw his face as he spotted the plane ticket to Glenoak that their parents had left behind. For a moment his expression grew stormy again; then he shook it off and picked up the ticket to hand it to her.
"Here," he said, "you might as well give it back to them. They can cash it in and use it for Ruthie's Stanford fund."
She smiled sadly. "Are you sure you won't even think about coming home?"
"You heard what they said. I don't think I'd be welcome. As you said yourself, I've got to give them time. Maybe it will help. And if it doesn't …" His voice wavered, but he swallowed and went on. "And if it doesn't, then I'll just have to find a way to live with that."
They held each other's eyes for a moment as she took the plane ticket from him. A sudden memory floated into her head, from the time when they were little and had stayed up so late they'd been sure it was midnight at the very least, hiding in the fort they'd built out of blankets and sofa cushions. They had talked about who was their parents' favorite child, finally agreeing that Simon was Mom's favorite and Lucy was Dad's favorite, and then they had sworn a pact not to tell the other kids because they didn't want to make them uncontrollably jealous. Sitting Indian-style, facing each other, on the living-room floor, holding their fists together, they had recited the special chant that bound them to secrecy forever. His eyes were the same fierce blue now as they had been then.
Finally, she turned away and picked up her own lemonade glass. "Are you still up for dinner? Because if you are, I'd like to take you."
"Oh, I don't know, it's been such a long day."
"Just something informal. Please, Simon. I really don't want to leave you alone, not now that I'm finally getting to know you again."
She could tell that he appreciated that. "Well, I guess we've still got to eat," he said. "But I'm paying. Is pizza okay?"
"Okay," Lucy replied. "But we're going Dutch. Still a pizza fanatic, hmm? I guess some things never do change." She grabbed her purse and followed him out the door.