Free Thinking Straight by Robin Reardon Page A

phrasing it, so I was thinking that he wouldn’t be going. And, for that matter, that I wouldn’t. But at some point Charles turned to Sheldon and me and explained that although Danielle would accompany him, everyone would go. He talked about it being a great time for Fellowshipping. Made me wonder why anyone would care about having a “companion.” I mean, if you wanted to go someplace with a date, wouldn’t you want a little quality time alone together? It made no sense to me. But I was new here. And, I reminded myself, Charles was gay—he had to be. So how much quality time would he want with a date named Danielle, anyway?
    Sean pulled me aside as soon as I got back to the laundry room, and we went into the office just inside the entrance. He closed the door.
    â€œTaylor, I need to coach you about something. This morning at the folding table, you were humming. Is that correct? Nod if it is.”
    Good thing he said to nod; I was about to say, Sure, so what? And then, How the hell did you know that, anyway?
    â€œAnd the song you were humming had FI lyrics. Do you remember what that is? From the Booklet?”
    I had to think about that one. I wasn’t quite sure what the FIs were all about, anyway. Former Images—what did that mean? I must have looked puzzled, ’cause Sean opened a drawer and pulled out a Bible. He flipped through to find the spot he wanted and read.
    â€œEphesians, chapter four, verse twenty: ‘But you did not learn Christ that way; if indeed you heard him, and were taught in him, even as truth is in Jesus: that you put away, as concerning your former way of life, the old man, that grows corrupt after the lusts of deceit; and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new man, who in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of truth.’”
    He set the Book down. “We all need to remember to leave our old selves behind. I’m sure you felt those songs were great in your former life, but they have no place here. They have no place in your new life, and they don’t suit the new you. In fact they make it harder for you to come into your new life. They help trap you in the old one, the one you have to leave behind. So it’s bad for you, and it’s bad for others, too, to hear those songs. Do you understand?”
    I should have nodded, I suppose. He’d made it clear enough what he’d meant. But instead I had to be a wise ass. I went over to the desk, found a pen and pad, and wrote, “I hear what you say.”
    Sean’s teeth ground together. “Don’t make this harder for both of us, Taylor. If you resist, it means I’ll have to report you, and I don’t want to do that. I hate doing that, do you understand?” He actually looked like he meant it. “Now, please, nod to let me know you’ll stop. Please.”
    He looked almost desperate. I nodded. But then I wrote again. “How the—could they hear me in there?”
    Sean obviously didn’t know how to answer that one, so I scratched it out and wrote, “Who told you?”
    Sean’s eyes closed just for a second. “I can’t tell you that. Now, come on. Let’s go to the washers so I can show you how to use them.”
    So I had three hours before my “quiet time” to think about what had just happened. Someone who recognized that tune had ratted on me to Sean, who seemed like he didn’t want to be the disciplinarian. Someone who must have been close enough to me to hear what I almost couldn’t hear, myself, and close long enough to figure out what I was humming. I tried hard to conjure up the faces of the two guys who had been nearest me, but all I could remember was that one of them was short and had really black hair.
    At break, around two thirty, we went in single file through a door in the back of the room that led out to an enclosed yard. There was a green