Read Online Enigma by Lloyd A. Meeker - Free Book Online
Authors: Lloyd A. Meeker
Tags: mm
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bags?”
“No,” Howard Richardson jumped up as if his chair had ejected him, his face an unhealthy red. “Answers first.”
James shrugged and sat back. “Ask away, then.”
Howard paced. “Why in heaven’s name are you doing this?” he fumed.
James was as relaxed as he’d been at the park two days ago. “Because you took my life away from me, and now I’m taking it back. With interest.”
“But why now, when my ministry is doing so much good work—work that you’ve done so much to accomplish?” Richardson’s voice had a whine in it, and I almost felt embarrassed for him.
“You are so fucking blind, Howard.” James shook his head. Apparently he’d been practicing his swear words, because this time he didn’t even blink. “Why now? Because I’m finally ready, and because there’s a lovely symmetry to this timing.”
He took a swig of his drink. “I was released from the prison you sent me to on March 31st of 1994. Easter was April 3rd that year. On that morning, you paraded me like a prisoner of war in front of the congregation and the cameras, claiming I’d been raised from the depths of temptation, restored by everyone’s prayers.”
James Richardson had probably never had such complete attention from the reverend and Kommen. They were spellbound. Maybe it was the first time they realized how serious he was.
“Easter was April 4th this year. Enigma’s first letter arrived on April Fool’s Day. So close to Easter, so apt. This time, I sat quietly on stage while you postured and pounded and prayed, knowing that it would be the last time I’d have to do it.” He took another sip of whatever he’d poured himself and smacked his lips.
“In the fifteen years between those two Easters, I spent every moment I could planning my escape and your punishment. At first, I wanted you dead.” Everyone’s eyebrows went up, including mine.
“But I realized that would be far too easy on you. I want you to live a long time with the knowledge of how you crippled your little empire, and how you have no one to blame but yourself.”
“But I’ve done nothing—”
“Nothing? Shut up, Howard, and listen. You ready?” James started counting on his fingers.
“One. You turned my mother’s pregnancy into a bargaining chip to seize control of old man Evans’ church. And money.
“Two. You signed my commitment papers to reparative therapy illegally, since you are not my father, but only my stepfather.
“Three. You were already fucking Leigh when you introduced her to me, and you didn’t stop when we got married. And yes, there have been others. I have only a partial list, but it’s plenty long.” It was as if all the oxygen had left the room. Both men stared at James in silence. Neither one of them moved for several seconds.
“Four. Most importantly, once you realized I wasn’t going to sire children to support your conversion myth, you got busy. You’ve had three children by the wife that you arranged for me. You had the gall to pretend they were mine. Leigh readily agreed, of course, because she’d do anything for you. Anything. Your willingness to use people,” James choked up, shook his head as if to open the pipes again, “is staggering.”
James let his hands drop. The room was utterly silent. I looked at Kommen. His aura was shocked flat, in full defensive mode. I guessed he hadn’t known this stuff, and now it looked like he was busy figuring out how to distance himself from the good reverend.
“I’ll deny it.” Howard stood up straight in what he must have thought was a gesture of defiance. “Leigh will support me.”
“You idiot!” James shouted. “How can you be so fucking stupid? Do you really think you can pray away reality? Pray away the gay? Pray away the DNA?” James slammed his glass on the table and stood up. “Reality, especially inconvenient reality, is part of God, Howard. It’s time you figured that out.”
He knocked back the rest of his drink,
“No,” Howard Richardson jumped up as if his chair had ejected him, his face an unhealthy red. “Answers first.”
James shrugged and sat back. “Ask away, then.”
Howard paced. “Why in heaven’s name are you doing this?” he fumed.
James was as relaxed as he’d been at the park two days ago. “Because you took my life away from me, and now I’m taking it back. With interest.”
“But why now, when my ministry is doing so much good work—work that you’ve done so much to accomplish?” Richardson’s voice had a whine in it, and I almost felt embarrassed for him.
“You are so fucking blind, Howard.” James shook his head. Apparently he’d been practicing his swear words, because this time he didn’t even blink. “Why now? Because I’m finally ready, and because there’s a lovely symmetry to this timing.”
He took a swig of his drink. “I was released from the prison you sent me to on March 31st of 1994. Easter was April 3rd that year. On that morning, you paraded me like a prisoner of war in front of the congregation and the cameras, claiming I’d been raised from the depths of temptation, restored by everyone’s prayers.”
James Richardson had probably never had such complete attention from the reverend and Kommen. They were spellbound. Maybe it was the first time they realized how serious he was.
“Easter was April 4th this year. Enigma’s first letter arrived on April Fool’s Day. So close to Easter, so apt. This time, I sat quietly on stage while you postured and pounded and prayed, knowing that it would be the last time I’d have to do it.” He took another sip of whatever he’d poured himself and smacked his lips.
“In the fifteen years between those two Easters, I spent every moment I could planning my escape and your punishment. At first, I wanted you dead.” Everyone’s eyebrows went up, including mine.
“But I realized that would be far too easy on you. I want you to live a long time with the knowledge of how you crippled your little empire, and how you have no one to blame but yourself.”
“But I’ve done nothing—”
“Nothing? Shut up, Howard, and listen. You ready?” James started counting on his fingers.
“One. You turned my mother’s pregnancy into a bargaining chip to seize control of old man Evans’ church. And money.
“Two. You signed my commitment papers to reparative therapy illegally, since you are not my father, but only my stepfather.
“Three. You were already fucking Leigh when you introduced her to me, and you didn’t stop when we got married. And yes, there have been others. I have only a partial list, but it’s plenty long.” It was as if all the oxygen had left the room. Both men stared at James in silence. Neither one of them moved for several seconds.
“Four. Most importantly, once you realized I wasn’t going to sire children to support your conversion myth, you got busy. You’ve had three children by the wife that you arranged for me. You had the gall to pretend they were mine. Leigh readily agreed, of course, because she’d do anything for you. Anything. Your willingness to use people,” James choked up, shook his head as if to open the pipes again, “is staggering.”
James let his hands drop. The room was utterly silent. I looked at Kommen. His aura was shocked flat, in full defensive mode. I guessed he hadn’t known this stuff, and now it looked like he was busy figuring out how to distance himself from the good reverend.
“I’ll deny it.” Howard stood up straight in what he must have thought was a gesture of defiance. “Leigh will support me.”
“You idiot!” James shouted. “How can you be so fucking stupid? Do you really think you can pray away reality? Pray away the gay? Pray away the DNA?” James slammed his glass on the table and stood up. “Reality, especially inconvenient reality, is part of God, Howard. It’s time you figured that out.”
He knocked back the rest of his drink,
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