In the name of the Father

Chapter 3 - The Fornicator, the Pacifist, the Anarchist, and the Heretics

Chapter 3 – The Fornicator, the Pacifist, the Anarchist, and the Heretics

Was this what Dante Alighieri felt like when he voyaged through the nine circles of hell in atonement for his sins? I had read his story plenty of times in different versions of literature, watched the grisly animated movies on television, and have played the gruesome video game on Xbox. I did it all and realized that to sin was worth it. For to sin was to truly live and be alive.

I used to be a priest who prayed for the souls of those who’d likely burn in the inferno they themselves created. I too was riddled with sins, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d have to journey the same path Dante took to find my own redemption. I would like to give it thought. However, at this moment of crooked repentance I didn’t think I could, for I was again thrown in the crux of my desires with Jeanne enticing my body to submit in carnal behavior I yearned for.

With tousled hair, frayed breaths, a pounding heart, and a body doused in sweat, I retired to my side of the bed after Jeanne and I made love. I thought that he’d allow me rest but he was quick to pull me back against his chest so that we’re spooning. The warmth of his hairy chest against my bare back felt titillating. His signature heady scent was hard to resist. We were a mix of passion, warm bodies, and pure bliss. I sagged lovingly against him, riding and stretching out the strands of a euphoric release that had taken me to heaven and back.

Jeanne was a potent man, strong and surprisingly virile for his age. One would think he’d fail with lovemaking seeing that he’s fifty, but he hadn’t. His body was made to fornicate, and to my surprise mine was too. Our bodies were born to make love. Our souls were made to sin.

Just when I was about to doze, his index found its way in my mouth. It parted my lips, and with insatiable hunger I suckled. It felt crude to lap at my own essence I thought, but his mixed with mine was a flavor I welcomed. At this moment of ecstasy I realized that we were in the realm of lust. It was an inferno we shared. I didn’t care if fornication was sin, because I never felt so alive.

Was this what Gray felt like during all those mornings I pestered him while scrounging on my father’s breakfast at the kitchen isle? I knew that I had been mean to him ever since he arrived because I felt he was going to be more than just a brother. There were signs that he was more to my father during those first few nights. I was quick to ignore them for I didn’t care much. However, once I heard those wanton screams that were loud enough to break the windows out of our house, I knew that I had to start caring. But my concern was expressed the wrong way. I seemed to alienate Gray the more I thought I cared. I considered that to distance myself was the right thing to do. I mean, they were a scandal. I had to be the pacifist. I just didn’t know how.

I kept telling myself that Gray was father’s version of the truth. And the truth was that his heart didn’t beat for mother or any other woman. Father was a good man, but he wasn’t always there to show me how to become one. I grew up alone, focused, and headstrong. And so I pursue this wicked prayer of lust and anger. I ached for a love that was true just like what he and Gray have. But first I needed to douse the flames of my anger and emotionally open up to a closed world.

The death of mother and its weight upon my shoulders would still haunt me in my sleep. The more I grew the more I became farther away from my family. The life I had with them was my prison, and so I had to find ways to escape and emancipate myself. I wished I hadn’t. I wished I had more faith back then. I was young and reckless. I was trying to relieve myself of the problems our family had, only to breed wrath in the end. I did my life wrong. Now I had to pay.

I never had faith in God, yet I prayed that I would soon wake from my nightmares. I just wanted to dream again and feel alive for once. I secretly wished that I had someone like Gray in my life. But of course I wanted a woman. I sighed and mulled over all these thoughts as my superior’s voice grew louder into my ears. I stood languidly on the second floor of an unfinished building, taking all his noteworthy criticism. This was definitely what Gray felt like during all those mornings I mocked him. Now I knew what it was like to be pestered in the morning. And I hated it.

I dropped out of law school early to pursue my dream of becoming an architect. And at twenty-five I became one. I graduated top of my class and had been breeding success ever since; except this morning, for my douche of a supervisor decided to spit his venom on the drafts of my floor plan for this would-be, multi-million dollar, high-rise hotel in the middle of commercial Columbia in Washington D.C. And as his voice rose to several octaves, I thought of Gray. Me torturing Gray with silence, and my superior doing the exact opposite felt degrading on so many levels. Now I really knew what it felt like to be Gray in the morning. Was this karma? It sure felt like it.

A strong wind blew from the distance. It wasn’t a cause for commotion because I was just in the second floor and no harm would come to me. However, the airstream was strong enough to blow the blueprints from my table. The papers flew everywhere. Some fell to the ground. I made haste to gather them. I scrounged for each piece as they skated over the rough patch of newly-formed cement. I was cursing at the thought that my day had gotten worse. Indeed, this was karma.

I was about to pick up the last piece of sketch when a set of hands met mine. I glanced at perfectly polished black leather shoes before standing up. He was only five foot six with a build of a lean yet scrawny teenager, while I towered a great six foot two with a body of a quarterback, yet I felt small before him despite my body and height advantage. Our eyes locked and I felt something move in my chest. My blues captured his lovely grays, and for some inexplicable reason I felt my heart lurch and drop to my stomach. It squeezed to a warm feeling of admiration that I never felt before. ‘Oh Lord, what is going on’ was what I thought as I looked at those gray eyes.

This was what Jeanne looked like at the time when he kissed me in the bathroom of the hotel we stayed in during the night of the Seine incident. My heart pounded violently and pulsated in my ears. I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel this way but for some unexplained reason I was, and I didn’t like it. I looked down on my hands holding pieces of paper only to feel his grip building warmth around mine. Jake towered over me with a body that could pulverize me in an instant.

He and his father were both quarterbacks during the prime of their college life, which probably explains Jeanne’s potency in bed and his unquenchable thirst for lust. My stupor was broken when Jake let go of my hand. ‘Thank goodness’ I thought as I smiled and handed him pieces of the blueprint that billowed into the air just as I was making my way up to bring him lunch.

“Gray,” he nodded nonchalantly.

“Jake,” I nodded professionally.

“So—” we started in unison.

I was the first to break into a laugh, while he remained prim giving only a slight chuckle. He smirked and at that moment I realized how he reminded me so much of Jeanne, only younger. I brushed the thought away before it could give birth to wayward imaginings. I knew that Jake was an anarchist, and was hell bent on making me feel the inferno I so courageously braved with his father, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to rebel against him, especially not at this moment with a smile on his face. I thought my heart stopped thrashing violently in my chest, but I was wrong. ‘Come on Gray, say something’ was my thought as I stood silent before the son of the father.

This was what Gray looked like at the time I kissed him in the bathroom. His eyes then were fraught with fear and nervousness, but he was quick to glaze them with the kind of gluttonous desire that I knew I also had in mine. I was glad to see him working the kink out of my son. They weren’t the best of pals when this whole thing started. I introduced Gray to our home and I knew that my son understood his presence was going to be more. Jake wasn’t too keen to pounce on him like a cat would to a ball of yarn. He’d rather chew Gray like how a dog would a stray meaty bone. At this moment of silence where I stood a few meters away from them, I thought that strangely they looked good together. With that picture in mind I strode forward feeling jealous.

“Hey,” was how I started as I swung an arm across Gray’s shoulder. I knew it must have been stupid to look at, but Gray made me feel exuberant and youthful like that of a teenage boy hogging his girlfriend protectively in the presence of competition. Not that I felt Jake was competition, but it was almost a reflexive action that my body did. I felt timeless with Gray, and I had to thank the love I felt for him because it made my body and soul feel ageless and infinite.

“Hey dad,” my son stated blandly, his face losing the luster it had a moment ago before I arrived.

I was quick to change tack to melt whatever it was that I thought bothered my son, “Is your boss giving you a hard time?” I asked purposefully to veer his attention away from Gray who stood lethargically by my side.

Jake looked miffed but was quick to exhale the annoyance through his mouth, “Nah, it’s all in a day’s work. I’m good.”

I felt eyes were starting to pile so I peeled my arm from Gray’s shoulder, coughing at the action as if it was nothing but a friendly gesture between two close friends who happened to be men. “Um, okay then…”

With that note Gray and I turned to walk away. He was to accompany me to the office, thus he wore his best suit. We left Jake to continue on with his work. I knew that Gray was making progress with him. It won’t be long before we could finally call ourselves a family. And as I walked with Gray towards the car that was waiting for us, I couldn’t help but wonder that the three of us were in Dante’s Inferno, assuming the role of heretics as we observed each other.