Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen) (22 page)

“Well, that didn’t go so well,” he observed.

“Oh, just give him time to warm up to you,” she suggested.
 
“I’m sure that the two of you will be thick as thieves when you get to know each other.”
 
She laughed.
 
“You don’t really have a choice.
 
Matt can be kind of intimidating, and I think you’ll learn to be a little more open-minded.”
 
She said the last part in kind of a parental way that made Alex feel that she was chastising him.
 
He’d had enough confrontation for one day, though, and he decided not to push his luck.
 
So, once again, he changed the subject.

“I can see what Liz sees in him,” he mused.

“Oh, yes.
 
He’s got so many wonderful qualities, and it breaks her heart.”

“What does?” Alex asked, a glimmer of hope returning.

She looked at him, perplexed.
 
“That he’s gay.”

***

Matt watched them go with uncertainty.
 
“Homophobic little shit,” he muttered to himself.

He had hoped that Alex’s demeanor was a result of the drastic changes in his life in the past week, but he knew better now.
 
He was used to the loneliness of being different; he’d had to cope with that for most of his life.
 
This betrayal, however, was beyond description.
 
He would have to work with this
boy
.
 
He’d have to protect Alex.
 
He was even a little attracted to Alex, but all of that would have to change.
 
Matt knew that he would do his job—that much was not even a question.
 
But it would be so difficult now.
 
He decided he would have to approach this from a detached perspective, and that was better anyway, he concluded.

Doubt and pain subsumed him.
 
It had even occurred to Matt that Alex could be the psychological help he’d been praying for all of this time.
 
Just being around him, despite his now apparent homophobic qualities, had been comforting.
 

Ever since Matt and Alex had met, there was friction.
 
Matt had driven away the thoughts that were ever-present in his mind—the fear, the torment, the loneliness.
 
He gave Alex the benefit of the doubt, but when the concern was subtly posed only minutes ago, the response was certain.
 
Alex was afraid.
 
Fear was the primary component of homophobia.
 
Any rational person would have replied to Matt with an assurance that there was no reason to dislike him, especially since they had just met.
 
Alex, on the other hand, had merely nodded, affirming Matt’s fear.
 

Old memories flooded in upon Matt, and he had to sit down in the cool grass.
 
He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them.
 
He was so tired.
 
He was tired of fighting a battle he couldn’t win.
 
He was tired of being different, and he was tired of being powerless over his desires.
 
He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head.
 
Matt certainly didn’t want any of his mercenaries to see frustrated tears forming in his eyes.

He thought and thought about what he could have possibly done to turn Alex against him in the very short time that they had known each other.
 
Nothing.
 
He had done nothing.
 
Alex had been reared in a small town by small minds, and it was possible that he was too far gone to change now.
 
He was definitely not capable of returning Matt’s affection.
 

“Matt?” her voice called him from his inner demons.

He looked up and saw Elizabeth was confused.
 
She instantly saw the tears in his eyes.
 
He brushed them away, but it was to no avail.
 
As she peered at him lovingly, they returned.
 
She looked pained and sat down next to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s not important.”

“Oh, it is to me.”
 
She wrapped an arm around him.
 
“Please tell me.”

“You were right.
 
Jeremiah was right.
 
He’s not who I thought he was.”

Comprehension came into her eyes.
 
“Alex?”

“Yeah.”
 
Matt smiled as bravely as he could.
 
“I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Why do you say that?”

He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.
 
“He all but admitted to being a bigot.”

Her concern gave way to what looked like anger.
 
“What did he say?”

“He didn’t
say
anything; he didn’t have to.
 
He was afraid.
 
He couldn’t even look me in the eyes.
 
But it’s okay,” he added quickly, sensing her emotions rising.
 
“I knew that he wouldn’t be interested in me.
 
I just hoped that I could get something from him.
 
A friend, at least.
 
You know?”

“I don’t think that’s asking too much.”

“People like that,” Matt said, “they think that because someone’s gay they’re not safe, like I would rape him or something.
 
It’s not his fault; it’s just a small town mentality.”

“Like hell it’s not his fault.”

“He can’t help the way he was raised.”

“You’re so valiant, Matt.”
 
She brushed his hair out of his face.
 
It hurt her so much to see him in pain like this.
 
She had given up everything she cared for to come to this place—a prison, it seemed sometimes.
 
She longed for Matt as a lover, but she settled for having him as a friend—and almost brother.
 
“You have tried so hard to see past his faults, but this one isn’t going to go away quite so easily.
 
I know that you don’t want to blame him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s making his own decisions.
 
There isn’t anyone forcing him to be hateful.
 
Even if it’s a passive kind of hate, it’s still very ugly.
 
We’re expected to work together, and this kind of attitude simply won’t do.
 
We have to confront this issue—not just ignore it.”

“No,” Matt countered quickly.
 
“I don’t want any problems.”

She kissed him on the cheek very lightly.
 
Oh, how she wished it could be more.
 
She got up and stared down at him.
 
“This requires a woman’s touch.
 
I’ll smooth things out.”

***

“He’s what?” Alex asked, stunned.

“Well, I think it would be more politically correct to say homosexual.”

“I didn’t know...”
 
Alex was at a loss for words.

Marla looked doubtful.
 
“You mean Jeremiah never told you?”

“No, he said...” Alex tried to remember the conversation he had with the demon, “that Liz had her heart set on Matt.
 
I guess he never said that Matt felt the same.”

By this point, they were walking back through the foyer.
 
“We assumed, from what Jeremiah had told us, that he made clear to you what you were walking into.
 
He said he told you about Matt and Elizabeth.
 
And, well, when people describe the traits of a gay person, one of the first things they mention is homosexuality.
 
We too often forget that Jeremiah isn’t human.
 
I suppose it may not have occurred to him to mention it.”

Alex considered that, but he didn’t think so.
 
They’d had a playful conversation about Alex stealing Elizabeth away from Matt.
 
That didn’t sound like the information had slipped his mind.

Marla led Alex back to his room.
 
She opened the door and smiled.
 
As soon as Alex looked inside, he felt the corners of his mouth turning up, too.
 
There was a wonderful stereo system, complete with a stack of CDs, and a poster behind it, identical to the one he had in his old room.
 
It showed the lead singer of Alex’s favorite band, Nisus.
 

His name was Lonny Talbott, and, in Alex’s humble opinion, Lonny was the most talented musician in history.
 
He had such a way of speaking—singing, actually—the truth.
 
His words seemed to flow over Alex and take him away to a place where, though tinted by angst, Alex felt at peace.
 
He’d always believed that if he could just talk with Lonny for a few minutes, he would better understand himself.
 
A part of Alex wanted to think that, no matter how rich and famous Lonny became, he’d take the time to speak to his biggest fan, even if that fan was just a high schooler.
 
Well, he wasn’t in high school anymore.
 
Now, Alex would be entering the ranks of college.
 
He wondered if college students liked Nisus, too.

“Does this look like what you left?”
 
Marla asked.

“Better,” Alex replied, looking around the room, grinning.
 
Only then did he notice that a black light had been installed.
 
There were other posters in the room that, like his at home—if it could even be considered
home
now--were made to glow psychedelically when exposed to only the black light.

There was a giant beanbag chair in the corner, painted the ugliest and most gaudy shade of yellow Alex had ever seen, but he loved it.
 
It sat in front of a 55’’ television, and wires ran along the walls for the surround sound speakers mounted near the ceiling.
 
On the opposite wall, there was a bookshelf, and he had to walk over to it.
 
Leaving Marla standing in the doorway, he examined the titles.
 
All of his favorites were there.
 
There was a shelf dedicated to fiction (mostly fantasy), and on another shelf there were some of his philosophical favorites.
 

Next to the bookshelf was a beautifully crafted desk—the only thing in the room that made Alex wary.
 
This implied work, and probably lots of it.
 
On the desk was a book, opened to the middle with a note in it.
 
Alex took a closer look and recognized the book instantly.
 
It was the Bible, and it was opened to Psalms 119.
 
Someone had circled verse 105 in red ink.
 
Alex looked at it.
 
“Thy word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path.”
 
There was a piece of paper a few pages farther into the book.
 
Alex pulled it out and read:

Alex,

To you is given the responsibility to bring light to the world.
 
People will not want to accept you immediately.
 
It’s important that you know this book from cover to cover in order to gain the support of the powers that be.
 
Religion has always been based in love: love for people, a love of faith, a love of hope, a love of great and epic stories.
 
You must embrace these things in order to understand where you have come from and where you must go.
 
Regardless of your personal feelings about it, this book is held in the highest regards among the people who run the country in which you live.
 
You’ll need to have a working knowledge of it if you are to communicate to them on their level.