Brendan Dude

Joey, Luke and I were sitting in my living room, bored out of our brains and watching infomercials, when Luke bit his lip, leaned forward, and gave us an offer:

“Listen, guys, uh…” he started, elbows on his knees and shaking the hair out of his eyes, “I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced or anything, but…”

Joey elbowed him. “Spit it out.”

Luke sighed. “Like…if you guys ever wanna come to my church if you’re lonely or something…I’ll be happy to take you.”

The room kinda died.

My head swam in his words.

“I mean, you don’t have to, just -”

“I don’t wanna be preached to about some fairytale in the sky,” Joey deadpanned. “You don’t haft’a worry about me comin’.”

Something flickered across Luke’s face; he froze for a second. There was a little look of shock. “Look, I never -”

“Blah, blah, blah. I heard it all,” he rolled his eyes.

“Joey, shut up,” I growled at my brother. “Don’t trash him.”

His eyes nearly burned a hole through me.

“Let’s just drop the subject,” Luke whimpered.

“Yes. Let’s,” Joey grunted.

“No, let’s not. Joey, you’re a jackass,” I assured, being sure not to drop the subject. Luke was never mean to him. What gave him the right to be a little bitch?

Luke blushed, gesturing wildly as he scrambled to defend. “No, like, I shouldn’t have…said anything.”

Fucking A, Joey. Brat. He was playing with his hair now, not paying any attention to anything. It didn’t surprise me.

“Don’t you think we could at least try it?” I told Joey, shrugging. Really. What’s the worst that could’ve happened?

“No. I’m not going to some -”

“What have we got to lose?”

Joey, fidgeting across the room from me, licked his lips and went crosseyed for a moment.

“It’s worth a shot,” I mumbled further.

He snickered. “I’m gonna get struck by lightning the second I walk in, though.”

Luke smiled real wide and patted his back. “Nah, God loves you. That isn’t gonna happen.”

“Unconditionally?” Joey cocked his eyebrow.

“As long as you’re willing,” he explained.

My brother stared into space for a moment, biting his lip as if in thought. “Well…like…how are the people there?”

“Accepting.” Luke’s answer was almost immediate.

“Hm,” Joey coughed.

“Well, I’ll go,” I spoke up. “Why not?”

Luke grinned at me for a second, but looked back over at my brother, who was busy still thinking. I could almost hear the mechanical gears turning. I hope the idiot didn’t hurt himself.

Finally, he threw his arms up. “Fuck it, I’ll go.”

Boy, that’s just so charming, especially for a kid going to church. “Nice language,” I deadpanned.

Luke laughed. He’s a good kid.

- - -

Boy, it felt like ages since I’d worn a polo shirt. Even at David’s funeral, I felt that way. They were so itchy, you know? The cotton was so thick, and ‘cause I basically left them to rot in my closet, they smelled funny, like old people and books.

I sniffed my shirt.

Luke snorted. “Dude.”

“What?”

He shook his head, smirking. “Nothin’.”

Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook – Luke’s foster folks – were in the front seats of the car; Joey, Luke and I were crammed in the backseat. Thank God it was only a short drive (pun intended).

Joey sneezed. Luke said, “Bless you.”

Then after about a minute of silence, Joey started drumming his fingers against the door handle, sighing heavily. The car was quiet except for him just having an episode.

After a while, the beat he was tapping morphed into an angry blob of random noises. I looked at him behind Luke’s back; he was crazy shaking. Damn.

“Dude, chill,” I said to him.

Joey ignored me. Weirdo.

Luke leaned over and whispered something in his ear that was too quiet for any of us to hear. Joey took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.

I looked at his hands again, but this time Luke was holding one of them.

Hm.

Before too long we arrived at the church, a tiny little congregation that looked more like a corner store than a holy center. Luke had once told me that it used to be a convenience store.

There were people walking through the front door, mostly old people and little kids; I think we were the only teenagers there. We got out and slowly made our way over to it, but Joey was back to spazzing out again and whimpering like a three-year-old. When I looked back at him, he was pouting and had his arms crossed. Hair covered one of his eyes, and the one left exposed looked weary.

Luke walked back and put a hand on his shoulder again, telling him something I couldn’t hear. Joey’s arms separated and his face softened, and pretty soon they were walking again, once more hand-in-hand. A couple questions had flashed through my head.

Eh. I might ask later, I thought.

It had been ages since I’d been to church. What was it, like, third grade when I last went? My family, aside from my Italian mother, had hardly been religious. I could’ve told them I was an Atheist and they wouldn’t have minded. Of course, I wasn’t one, but I think Joey was. Either that or he just didn’t give a crap. David believed in a god, I knew that. I think I did, too.

Still, going to church felt pretty foreign.

As we sat in the rickety pews and waited for the sermon to begin, a few memories came back to me.

I remembered that church was incredibly boring.

Instinctively, I yawned.

“When’s it start?” Joey asked.

“At eleven,” Luke answered.

They were still holding hands. I decided to let sleeping dogs lie this time.

When the pastor – a scrawny cat who looked to be in his early fifties – started the sermon, I just kinda zoned out. I’d known all these stories from the Bible. I was familiar with the Ten Commandments. So basically I was only there in body.

About midway through, though, Joey started crying. The pastor stopped for a moment and smiled directly at him. Luke was busy trying to comfort my brother, but that was failing.

“Well,” the pastor spoke, “it seems like we have some new family here.”

I cracked a little smile while Joey buried his head in his hands. Suddenly I felt fifty pairs of eyes on me.

“What’s the matter, friend?” (What was this guy, a hippy?)

Joey couldn’t answer. He was sobbing too hard, even with Luke hugging him tightly.

“It’s okay, young man; whatever is ailing you,” the pastor shushed, stepping down from the front, “God can help.”

Joey peeked out from under his mess of hair. His face was flushed scarlet as he choked out, “It’s too unreal.”

Luke squeezed his hand harder.

“What’s unreal about it?”

“I just can’t believe some guy in the sky’s gonna solve all my problems,” Joey sobbed.

“But you can at least have faith that he’ll help,” the pastor assured. “God loves you.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

“Even if I…I…” Joey coughed. “If…I like…boys…?”

My heart kinda stopped. Matter of fact, I think everyone’s did. Even Luke’s. Regardless, his arm was still locked tightly around his shoulder.

The pastor smiled warmly – something that could melt even the coldest hearts. “Yes. That is no reason not to love you.”

Joey looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “Really?”

Luke nodded along as if the question was addressed to him.

- - -

Since that little activity, Joey decided to go with Luke and his family to church every week. I chose to stay behind; I wanted to sleep in on Sundays, and God probably wouldn’t mind that.

I never asked him what he meant when he said he liked boys. Maybe he was gay or bi or something else. It didn’t matter to me. And like the preacher said, it don’t matter to God either. And apparently it didn’t matter to Luke, since he and Joey grew to become pretty good friends.