Sing You Home

“Objection-”

The judge frowns. “Sustained.”

“I’ll withdraw,” Angela Moretti says.

“Actually, I’d like to answer,” Dr. Newkirk says. “I can point Ms. Moretti to numerous studies that prove a boy who grows up without a father is more likely to become a delinquent, and to end up incarcerated.”

“What about your claim that same-sex marriage opens the door for polygamy? In the years since gay marriage has been legal in Massachusetts, has anyone petitioned the legislature for a polygamist union?”

“I don’t follow the legislation in that state…”

“I’ll help you out. The answer’s no,” Angela says. “And no one’s asked to get married to a rock or a goat, either.” She begins to tick off points on her fingers. “Let me just sum up what I’m hearing from you, Dr. Newkirk. Homosexual parenting leads to all sorts of devastating developmental downfalls for the children involved. Homosexuality isn’t innate, it’s learned. If you have homosexual parents, you’re likely to experiment with homosexual relationships. If you grow up with heterosexual parents, you will grow up to be heterosexual.”

The psychologist nods. “That’s about right.”

“Then maybe you can explain something else to me,” Angela Moretti says. “How come most gay people have straight parents?” She turns around and walks back to her seat while the psychologist is still trying to find a response. “Nothing further.”

Angela Moretti really doesn’t want Pastor Clive to take the stand. “Your Honor,” she says, “if Mr. Lincoln is a character witness for Max Baxter, there’s no need to qualify him as an expert in his field. The study of Max Baxter is not an academic discipline.”

“Pastor Clive is a religious leader and scholar,” Wade argues. “He’s traveled all over this country preaching the word of God.”

“And you know the one place he can’t preach it? In a court of law,” Angela replies.

“I think I want to hear what he has to say,” Judge O’Neill says.

“Of course you do,” Angela mutters.

The judge scowls. “I beg your pardon, Counselor?”

She looks up. “I said I’m a Jew.”

“Well, I never would have made that assumption, given the fact that your last name comes straight from Federal Hill. But thanks for sharing,” he adds. “It puts some of your earlier objections in a much different light. Attorney Preston, you may call your witness.”

When Pastor Clive walks in from wherever he’s been sequestered, accompanied by a sheriff, the gallery reacts. The members of the Eternal Glory Church call out hallelujahs and amens; the Westboro Baptist group starts clapping. For his part, Pastor Clive ducks his head humbly and walks down the aisle.

He asks to be sworn in on his own Bible.

“Please state your name for the record,” Wade says.

“Clive Lincoln.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m the pastor of the Eternal Glory Evangelical Church of God.”

“Do you have a family, Pastor?”

“Yes,” Pastor Clive says. “I have a wonderful wife, and God’s seen fit to bless us with four beautiful daughters.”

Three of them I know-they’re fresh-scrubbed preteens who wear matching dresses and sing with Pastor Clive on Sundays. The other one sits in the back during services and doesn’t say a word. Rumor has it she hasn’t accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior. I can’t imagine what a personal embarrassment that must be for someone like Pastor Clive.

I guess we all have our crosses to bear.

“Do you know the plaintiff in this matter?”

“I do. Max joined our congregation about six months ago.”

“Are you familiar with Reid and Liddy Baxter as well?” Wade asks.

“I’ve known Reid for fifteen years. He’s a business whiz, frankly-he’s managed the church’s finances for over a decade. We may have been the only nonprofit that made money during the recession.” Pastor Clive rolls his eyes upward. “Then again, we just might have had Someone looking out for us in the stock market.”

“How long have you been the pastor of this church?”

“Twenty-one glorious years.”

“Pastor, what does your church teach about homosexuality?”

“Objection,” Angela Moretti says. “I don’t see how this testimony furthers his understanding of the plaintiff’s character.”

“Overruled.”

“We believe in the word of God,” Pastor Clive says. “We interpret the Bible literally, and there are multiple passages that state marriage is meant to be between a man and a woman, for the purpose of procreation-and many others that directly condemn homosexuality.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“Objection!” Angela Moretti stands. “The Bible isn’t relevant in a court of law.”

“Oh, really?” Wade says. He gestures to the King James Bible the clerk keeps on his desk for swearing in.

Angela Moretti ignores him. “Your Honor, Mr. Lincoln’s interpretation of Bible verses is a direct melding of religion and justice-which violates the very principles of our legal system.”

“On the contrary, Your Honor, this is entirely relevant to the best interests of the pre-born children, and the sort of home in which they wind up.”

“I’ll allow the testimony,” Judge O’Neill says.

A man in the back of the gallery who’s wearing a shirt that says CLOSETS ARE FOR CLOTHES stands up. “Go fuck yourself, Judge!”

O’Neill glances up. “Motion denied,” he says drily. “Sheriff, please remove this man from my courtroom.” He turns toward Pastor Clive. “As I was saying, you may proceed. But I’ll limit you to choosing a single verse as an example. Ms. Moretti is right about one thing: this is a trial, not a Sunday School session.”

Pastor Clive calmly opens his Bible and reads aloud. “Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable. And if a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads. I know those are two verses, but they’re practically on the same page.”

“How would you and your congregation interpret those passages?” Wade asks.

“I don’t think it’s just me and my congregation,” Pastor Clive says. “It’s spelled out to anyone who reads it- homosexuality is an abomination. A sin.”

“For Pete’s sake,” Angela Moretti says, “I object. For the hundredth time.”

“I will give his testimony the weight it deserves, Counselor,” Judge O’Neill says.

Wade turns to Pastor Clive. “I’d like to direct your attention to the pre-born children at the root of this case,” he says. “When did you learn about them?”

“Max came to me for counseling, very upset after having a conversation with his ex-wife. Apparently, she is now living a life of sin-”

“Objection!”

“Please strike that from the record,” the judge says.

“Max’s ex-wife wanted to get custody of these pre-born children so that she could transfer them to her lesbian lover.”

“How did you advise Max?” Wade asks.

“I told him that this might be God’s way of trying to tell him something. We discussed what sort of family he wanted his children to grow up in-and he said a traditional, good Christian one. When I asked him if he knew anyone like that, he immediately mentioned his brother and sister-in-law.”

Liddy, I think and feel a pang in my chest.

What if I suggested we raise the babies together? We could tell Wade, and he could tell the judge, and then all of a sudden the biological father-me-would be added to the equation. Then I wouldn’t be giving the babies away; I’d be keeping them for myself.