Borders of Heaven, Part 2 of 2
Previously published in B magazine
Before I knew it the hounds of war were upon me once again. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around in my chair.
“Why Hello There!”
“Hello.” I responded.
A well muscled blonde haired high school graduate greeted my eyes; he must have been into wrestling or football. Beautiful eyes too, a clear opalescent green complete with utterly unblemished milk-white skin. I may not be on varsity but I think I’d definitely let him wrestle with me anytime. It had to be sports of some kind, something rough, like lacrosse with lots of stick play – you sure as hell don’t get that kind of physique from sitting on your ass eating brownies.
He interrupted my moment of undisguised gawking with a well-rehearsed speech, restarted from the beginning of a training tape somewhere and repeated for my edification: “Hi! Have you ever heard of the Church of Latter Day Saints?”
I did not waiver for a second. I knew my next line. The company of the nice Mormon boy would be nice to have as an art piece, but not good for much more. At this point mine was not to question why, but mine was just to do and die.
“I’m sorry.” I said to him “I’m just way to gay to be a Mormon, ever.” He looked shocked and confused, maybe despondent. Apparently no one had ever used this line on him. Just call him an annoyance, an unchristian heretic or an ignorant follower of Brigham Yong’s bullshit – no doubt he had heard it before and was prepared for it. But this? He had no answer. Just panic. In a daze he silently got on his bike, clad in his tight Mormon biker missionary attire, and rode away.
Alex interrupted my thoughts again, nudging my side with his elbow, “Works like a charm.”
“Sure does,” I said.
We then finished our lunch in peace.