Free Ray of Sunlight by Brynn Stein

so I was ready to hear him out… at least for a while. When he saw he had my attention, at least temporarily, he continued. “I heard that you needed volunteers for something you’re doing for the kids. Is that right?”
    I cocked a hip onto the banister. “Why, Pete? You volunteering?”
    “Yes, damn it. I am.” He was getting a little huffy, which was really unlike Pete… well, this huffy anyway. But he continued. “And I think I can do even better than that.” He stopped, probably to make sure I was still listening. “Our youth group is always looking for opportunities to help out.”
    That was true enough. I had made fun of him enough times, giving up his Saturdays to go build crap for people. I still couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to give up their Thanksgivings, though. And I said as much.
    “Well, we won’t know if we don’t ask, right?” Pete smiled and picked up the phone.
     
     
    A N HOUR later, the youth pastor from Pete’s church was in our living room.
    Pete and I were in the doorway, just before entering the room.
    “Why did he have to come over in person?” I whispered.
    “I didn’t have all the details, and I thought it would be better coming from you.” Pete grinned and started toward the couch. I couldn’t help but think that Pete was enjoying my discomfort far too much. “Come on, Russ. Pastor Roy doesn’t bite.”
    “Come in, son,” the pastor said. “Tell me more about this Thanksgiving project you’re trying to put together.”
    I stuttered through the explanation of everything. And I really was getting tired of going over and over this. If it wasn’t for CJ, I would just tell everyone to forget about it and stomp off. That would have been more in character. But, I found I really wanted to make this happen. So I struggled through. I really didn’t like talking to people… never really had, but I’d been getting even more solitary as I got older. I really didn’t want to do this. But I did… for CJ.
    When I was finished with the explanation, the pastor asked if I would come to the church Sunday and explain what I had just told him. This was getting out of hand.
    “I don’t think—”
    “Pastor,” Allen said, “I didn’t want to interrupt you earlier, but you don’t want to get mixed up in this. Did you know the boy you will be helping is gay?”
    Pastor Roy looked at me. “He doesn’t mean me, pastor.” I didn’t mention that it was only because he didn’t know I was gay, or bi, or whatever. Not because I wasn’t. “He means my friend CJ. This was mostly his idea… at first anyway. We kind of bounced off of each other.”
    He seemed confused. “And CJ is gay?”
    “Yes, pastor. He is. Or at least he was a year or so ago. Right now, he’s dying of cancer, so I don’t think sex… with either gender… is really on his list of most important things to do.” I got up to leave. I didn’t really need round two of how a supposedly loving God was going to damn CJ to hell just because of who he loved.
    “Where are you going, son?” Pastor Roy really did sound puzzled. “You haven’t answered me about Sunday.”
    “I figured that offer was rescinded. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with the friend of a dreaded gay person.” I wiggled my fingers like I was saying something scary.
    Allen came back in full force. “Cut the attitude, Russell—”
    But the pastor interrupted him. “Come back and sit down, son. I really don’t care about your friend’s orientation… well, I care, but it has no bearing on what we were talking about.”
    “Why? He’s damned to hell, right? Just because he kissed one boy, a year ago. Isn’t that why God is killing him?” I was getting a full head of steam and the real Russ Michaels would be back any minute. The out of character, stuttering, wimp who was foolishly trying to do something to help someone, was gone. Sarcastic shithead was now firmly back in place.
    “I don’t believe God kills people,