“Hold on,” Alex says, “hold on. While we are at it, why don’t we have a double wedding?”
“What?”
“Yes. John here and I. We are the perfect complement to this ceremony.”
“WHAT?”
No, he means it, Alex says. He has to make it up to John, he really does, he’s done so many terrible things during the last couple of days, especially to John, and he has apologized once too often-—we need to bring out the big guns, and marriage would fit the bill.
“Are you crazy?” I say. “How do you know I want to marry you?”
“Well, of course, you can’t marry me,” he counters, “not under Georgia state law. It would be a symbolic thing, but it would be nice.”
“Why should I marry you?”
“Why, John, on Monday, you said ‘yes’ already, at least implicitly, when I told Strada that we were working on our marriage and you didn’t object, remember?”
“But in the meantime, you wanted to separate.”
“But I failed, didn’t I?”
“You failed? You didn’t, you succeeded.”
“I succeeded? What are we doing here then, together, a thousand miles away from home?”
“Sheer rhetoric,” I say.
“We wouldn’t be here together in the bosom of the Fletcher family if we weren’t together.” He gestures at Maurice, Ben, Romeo, Juliette, even Gracelyn, all of them couldn’t agree more. Dr. Fletcher has found his Bible and rejoined us, but keeps his council.
“Alex, you asked me formally to ditch you, didn’t you-—several times—-didn’t you?”
“But you turned me down.”
“Come on. Come on.”
“That’s what I’m doing, John. A marriage proposal is a come-on. Technically. Isn’t it?”
“You know what I mean.”
“John, I know-—it sounds a bit alpha but I know—-you would be willing to marry me, still, despite all the bad things I did to you—-the worst thing was possibly the expression ‘our John’ being thrown at you, without any sense of irony, several times.”
“Yes, it was.”
“But you wonder how I could make up my mind this time, and you wonder whether I love you.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I didn’t make up my mind. I’ve
“And the love part?”
“Isn’t that what marriage vows are all about?”
He looks at Dr. Fletcher, who is too baffled to bring up matters such as non-matching genders.
“The main Catholic vow doesn’t mention ‘love’,” the pastor says. “The main Protestant one does.”
“I think I’m of Catholic stock, given my name,” Alex replies. “What does it promise, then, the Catholic one?” I ask.
“‘To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part…’” the pastor says.
“John, John, see,” Alex says. “That’s what you really want, John, isn’t it, to have and to hold. Me recumbent next to you against the bed head, play-ing with your hair while you are trying to stay awake. Isn’t that what you want? More than anything else?”
(((I weep. I nod like a little child.)))
“I promise, John, I promise. Not every night, but mostly.”
“You two are a gay?” Dr. Fletcher asks.
“Yes,” Alex answers.
“Alex doesn’t even know he’s gay,” I say. “He’s amnesic. He doesn’t remember.”
Well-—he’s sorry, Dr. Fletcher is-—but he can’t unite two men in holy matrimony, whether they are amnesic or not. The Bible doesn’t allow it.
“Dr. Fletcher,” Alex says. “Don’t you agree that the Bible says very little about homosexuality? There are very few direct references to it, and the strongest and least ambiguous one is in Leviticus.” He homes in on Ben’s father. “The same source, Leviticus, also forbids wearing mixed fabrics, like wool and silk, or trimming one’s beard, or cutting your hair at the sides, or planting different seeds in the same field, and so on. Things we do on a daily basis and nobody complains about.”
“But the penalty for homosexuality is a particularly severe one, namely death,” replies Dr. Fletcher.
“And you agree, Reverend? Death penalty for John and me?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course not.”
“What should it be then, the penalty? We still penalize murder, and theft, and rape. How about mixed fabrics? How about beard trimming? You are shaven.”
Dr. Fletcher’s is gasping for air.
“If you don’t want to penalize, then what’s wrong with it?” Alex asks. “It wouldn’t be a sin, would it? Sins are penalized.”
“Well…”
“But, Alex, you don’t even know whether you’re gay,” I say.
“How would I know about Leviticus, John? I’m not a bible thumper. I’m not religious at all, I believe. If I do know this, I must have researched it in my former life. And the only plausible reason for doing so, doing this research is that I’m an interested party. I’m gay. Speak first, think later.”
He peers at Gracelyn who—-who seems to have some iron in the fire—-because—-as much as she likes Alex & John, she’d rather have her son making a few more high-strung Valkyries very happy-—even if they pay for it—-than to have him end up in our arms.
“Martin Luther, add the love part to the vow,” she says. She takes my hand, then Alex’s, and joins them. “I’ll be the witness.”
Are you still there? Then you'll like the book:
("click")
("click")
No comments:
Post a Comment