Stories about & for us Queers

how he had enjoyed the way Russ had helped him, with his homework and with his fitting in.

“Remember all those times I got into trouble with Father Mike? And how you defended me and kept me from getting expelled from Sunday school?”

“Oh yes, I remember that.... you and Father Mike certainly locked horns a few times, if I recall.”

“Yeah we didn’t exactly see eye to eye, wonder what ever happened to him? There one day, gone the next.”

“Yes, well he had a few problems that needed some time away from the parish.”

“Yes, he did, ..... do you remember when you had to tell me that my dad had passed away Father Russ?”

This was certainly turning into a strange conversation. Here he was, his undershirt on, a robe covering him and his underpants, while this tall handsome ex choir boy stared at a wall of pictures of young boys. Well, the Lord did move in mysterious ways, didn’t he?

“Yes I do Kevin.”

“I do ..... I remember how you held me when I cried, how your arms held me tight against your chest, and I could feel your heart beating. The way you caressed my head, as I cried into that black cassock of yours. Do you remember that time Father?”

“Yes I do Kevin... it was a most difficult time for you then, I only hope that I was able to help in some small way.”

“Oh you did Father, you did. ....... it was then, while in your arms that I came to realize just exactly what I was.” “What you were? Uh.... I don’t follow you Kevin?”

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