Disappear with Me

Chapter 1 1910, Southampton, England Reverend Leander Norris straightened his clothes again. A storm brewed downstairs. Time to face the inquisition. He stole one final glance in the mirror, drew in a deep breath, and went downstairs to his office. When Leander opened the door, Bishop Charles Greene squatted behind his desk as if it were the bishop’s own. Leander reached out to shake the bishop’s hand. His superior ignored the gesture. Leander took the seat in front of the desk normally reserved for visitors. The knothole in the floor caught his attention. Emil had tried to fill the hole many years ago, but now it was empty again. “Do you know why I’m here today?” “Oh yes, sir, I think we both know why you’re here.” The tendons in the bishop’s neck flexed. “And you are aware of the charges being brought against you?” “Yes, Charlie, I am very well-versed.” “And you are aware if you step off this soapbox, we can reassign you quietly, and this whole ordeal can be done away with?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared down at the knothole. “Reverend, did you hear me?” the bishop asked. “Oh yes, sir, I am quite aware of the consequences that lie ahead, quite aware.” “Reverend!” the bishop shouted, his face suddenly red. “Ah, yes, sir?” “Your fate hangs precariously in your own hands at this moment. Now what do you have to say for yourself?” “I have nothing to say, Charles.” “You do understand you are accused of heinous acts against God and nature? Acts punishable by hard labor?” “I understand.” “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “Love isn’t a sin, Charles. There was a time when I think you felt the same way.” “If you plead guilty to these charges, we can reassign you. We’ll give you an academic position somewhere. Back in Cambridge maybe or London.” “Will you allow my ward to come away with me?” When the bishop didn’t answer, Leander said, “He’s not involved in this in any manner.” “I realize that, Leander—” “But it’s the others? Right? We’ve been down this road before, haven’t we?” The bishop let out a heavy sigh. “You know they will not allow a man accused of sodomy to continue to raise a child, even if he were the man’s natural-born son.” “Then I lose either way.” “Your impertinence is not looked upon kindly, Reverend.” The red-faced bishop stared at him. “Charles, what you are asking me to do is to denounce myself as something evil and deny myself any hope of contentment in the future. That I cannot do. I am a child of God, created in His image. God doesn’t make mistakes. I cannot admit I have done anything wrong in good conscience, sir, and live with that admission for the rest of my life. Whether I take your deal or not, I lose my ward—my son. Peter means the world to me. I need to prove my innocence so I may raise him as I have been charged to do.” The bishop took off his reading glasses, squinted his eyes shut, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Be that as it may, Leander, sodomy is a crime in England. Times are changing, but the change you’re advocating may not be possible in our lifetime.” “When we were at university, you felt differently.” “If this were anyone else, the deal I’ve offered you wouldn’t be an option. Do you realize a trial could be years away?” “Yes, I’m aware.” “Are you aware of the evils that happen in jails, especially for a man of the cloth like yourself? We can’t protect you from those men.” “My Lord will protect me.” “All sorts of things happen behind those bars none of us want to think about.” Leander smiled. “So in effect, it’s like you’re sending me to the lion’s den?” The bishop mistook his tease for understanding. “Yes, yes, it would be like sending you to the lion’s den.” “Then I guess you should call me Daniel.” The bishop leaned forward in his chair and spoke in a low, calculated tempo. “Reverend Norris, this is your last chance. If you refuse reassignment, I will have no choice but to contact the constable and have you arrested on charges of sodomy. You will be tried and found guilty.” As Leander stared down at the knothole, tears formed in his eyes. The knothole looked like it was flooding. “So be it,” the bishop said. “Stay in the house until the constable arrives.” Leander didn’t move from his seat. Only the Lord can save me now. I hope the God I’ve been worshipping all these years is more merciful than the law he claims to be upholding. “You may go, Reverend,” the bishop said again. Leander returned to his upstairs study. He entered the room and looked out the window. Some birds fluttering through the trees and then some flowers bending in the gentle wind distracted him from his current woes. In a moment, he was back to his current situation. He wished he were accused of a common crime. Petty theft, loitering perhaps? In his mind, no crime had been committed. Yes, he had sworn vows to a human institution; nothing he had ever studied indicated the Lord ordained those vows when He lived so many years ago. All he did was express love for another human. In his case, it happened to be another man. He sat at the desk and opened his Bible. The familiar smell of the gift, given to him by Father John when he went away to Cambridge, offered some comfort in spite of the situation. No matter where he looked, though, the words blurred. He finally settled on Mark, Chapter 1. He loved the seventeenth verse, one of the first he’d learned from Father John. “Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men.” He slammed his fist on the table. Tears spilled out of his eyes. How did I get here?