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Authors: Lloyd A. Meeker
Tags: mm
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strode to the bar, and got himself a glass of water. “Do you think I’ve just been doodling on a notepad for fifteen years? No, you don’t think at all. I have no Richardson genes. Thank heaven. But I do have DNA samples from myself and the children recorded at two different labs, both of which are recognized by the courts. Enough of the blood tests were authorized by Leigh for other reasons, so you can’t claim I’ve committed some kind of fraud. And I have certified copies of all of them.
“Those are documents beyond your control. They will prove your paternity beyond a doubt.” James raised his glass in a cynical salute. “Copies of the relevant ones are poised to be mailed to some of your fiercest brothers in Christian ministry. I suspect you know what they might do with those. The very same thing you would do with them if the shoe were on the other foot.”
Howard Richardson’s face had gone grey. “Please—”
“Oh, you want mercy? You are so pathetic.” James laughed, joyless and hard. “You cruel, selfish little man. Long ago you abandoned the last scrap of human decency you may have once had. But now when you’re caught with your pants down, you want mercy?”
James dashed to stand in front of Howard, and I braced for physical violence. None came. “When did you show me mercy?”
His voice became a wail. “You let those men fucking torture me! A boy died while I was there, and not by suicide. Death by therapy.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Do you even know what they did to me? Do you?”
He wiped a string of spittle from his chin. “No, you don’t. You didn’t want to know.”
He turned away with a sob. “Listen to the songs on that album again, Howard. You might get a whiff of how bad your shriveled, decaying heart stinks. What’s the term our HR department uses in our employment agreements? Moral turpitude? That’s you, Howard. You should be fired.”
Richardson’s face crumpled, but James wasn’t finished. “It’s your turn, now. It’s time you climbed up on the cross of changes. For the rest of your pathetic life.”
I surprised myself by breaking the long silence that followed. “Tell us about those lyrics, James?” Three heads swiveled in my direction.
Howard opened his mouth, but James cut him off with an abrupt hand wave. “Sure.”
He raised one hand, thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “That following summer, 1994, I was this close to suicide. I couldn’t function with a woman, didn’t even want a woman, and I didn’t dare touch a man. I was drowning, without hope. I was eighteen, trapped in his phony righteousness.” He tilted his head toward Howard.
“Then I heard that song, 'Return to Innocence.’ It saved my life. I knew it was a sign from the real God, the one that wanted me to be me. I played that song over and over. I wore out tapes, then I wore out CDs. It was my secret treasure. It became my battle cry.”
He took a drink of water. “I had to be patient. But I knew that if I kept the faith, the next step would come. Meanwhile, Howard, you just kept digging your own grave without any help from me or anyone else.
“I found men here and there, decent guys, all very short term, since I wouldn’t tell them who I really was. Then I met Raul. I knew he was the one. We’ve been lovers for three years, and we’re very happy together. We’ll live in Mexico.”
His eyebrows arched, as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh, by the way. I’ve emptied all the church accounts I had signing powers for. That came to about a hundred grand, in case you’re wondering.”
James pointed to the duffels next to the briefcase. “So now it’s time for this money. Andrew, you can do the honors.”
Kommen got a nod from Howard, clicked open the briefcases and began putting the bundled bills into the bags. It didn’t take long. “How do we know you won’t keep asking for more money?” he snarled, stepping back.
“You don’t. I don’t
“Those are documents beyond your control. They will prove your paternity beyond a doubt.” James raised his glass in a cynical salute. “Copies of the relevant ones are poised to be mailed to some of your fiercest brothers in Christian ministry. I suspect you know what they might do with those. The very same thing you would do with them if the shoe were on the other foot.”
Howard Richardson’s face had gone grey. “Please—”
“Oh, you want mercy? You are so pathetic.” James laughed, joyless and hard. “You cruel, selfish little man. Long ago you abandoned the last scrap of human decency you may have once had. But now when you’re caught with your pants down, you want mercy?”
James dashed to stand in front of Howard, and I braced for physical violence. None came. “When did you show me mercy?”
His voice became a wail. “You let those men fucking torture me! A boy died while I was there, and not by suicide. Death by therapy.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Do you even know what they did to me? Do you?”
He wiped a string of spittle from his chin. “No, you don’t. You didn’t want to know.”
He turned away with a sob. “Listen to the songs on that album again, Howard. You might get a whiff of how bad your shriveled, decaying heart stinks. What’s the term our HR department uses in our employment agreements? Moral turpitude? That’s you, Howard. You should be fired.”
Richardson’s face crumpled, but James wasn’t finished. “It’s your turn, now. It’s time you climbed up on the cross of changes. For the rest of your pathetic life.”
I surprised myself by breaking the long silence that followed. “Tell us about those lyrics, James?” Three heads swiveled in my direction.
Howard opened his mouth, but James cut him off with an abrupt hand wave. “Sure.”
He raised one hand, thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “That following summer, 1994, I was this close to suicide. I couldn’t function with a woman, didn’t even want a woman, and I didn’t dare touch a man. I was drowning, without hope. I was eighteen, trapped in his phony righteousness.” He tilted his head toward Howard.
“Then I heard that song, 'Return to Innocence.’ It saved my life. I knew it was a sign from the real God, the one that wanted me to be me. I played that song over and over. I wore out tapes, then I wore out CDs. It was my secret treasure. It became my battle cry.”
He took a drink of water. “I had to be patient. But I knew that if I kept the faith, the next step would come. Meanwhile, Howard, you just kept digging your own grave without any help from me or anyone else.
“I found men here and there, decent guys, all very short term, since I wouldn’t tell them who I really was. Then I met Raul. I knew he was the one. We’ve been lovers for three years, and we’re very happy together. We’ll live in Mexico.”
His eyebrows arched, as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh, by the way. I’ve emptied all the church accounts I had signing powers for. That came to about a hundred grand, in case you’re wondering.”
James pointed to the duffels next to the briefcase. “So now it’s time for this money. Andrew, you can do the honors.”
Kommen got a nod from Howard, clicked open the briefcases and began putting the bundled bills into the bags. It didn’t take long. “How do we know you won’t keep asking for more money?” he snarled, stepping back.
“You don’t. I don’t
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