The People in Rossford

“Do you want to stay the night?”

“That’s not even an option,” Brendan shook his head. “Mom’s going to be wondering what we’re doing. I mean, if she said yes.”

“Well, then I could spend the night at your place.”

“That’s definitely out now.”

“I wasn’t exactly serious. Howabout,” Kenny said, “you stay with Will and Layla. I mean, you tell your mom that. And then you just come home with me.”

In the darkness of the car, outside the Klaskos’ house, Kenny leaned into Brendan and murmured: “I’ll have the sense to close the door.”

Brendan snorted and shook his head after kissing Kenny’s mouth.

“No, we can’t do that, Ken.”

“Why not?”

“Mom’ll…”

“Fuck your mom,” Kenny said. “Which is, incidentally, not nearly as exciting as you fucking me. Or me fucking you.”

“You liked it,” Brendan said.

“I loved it.”

“I liked it too,” Brendan said in a small voice.

Kenny kissed his throat, sucked on it till Brendan moaned. He leaned forward and around so that he kissed Brendan on his mouth, and his hand went to his jeans.

“You thinking of your mother, now?”

Brendan, still caught in his kiss, shook his head.

Kenny touched him, and stroked him.

“What about now? Even when I bring her up.”

Brendan moaned and Kenny said, “I see I brought something else up. Whaddo you say?”

In a thick voice, Brendan said, “Hurry up and try not to run any red lights. Let’s go to your house.”

Layla came into the house through the kitchen and asked her uncle, “Have you seen Todd?”

“Todd!” Fenn shouted up the steps.

Todd came down, humming to himself, and Layla recognized the tune from Will’s synagogue, but could not place it.

“Adon Olom,” Todd told her.

“The Torah scroll I ordered should be here tomorrow,” Todd said.

“You’re serious?” Layla said to him.

“I am,” he said, sitting at the table while Fenn continued to cut vegetables and sweep them into the stew pot. “This is the first time I’ve ever been excited about religion.”

Layla looked at her uncle.

“How do you feel about this?”

“Does it matter?” Fenn said.

“I have never known Todd to be remotely interested in any type of religion, and now he’s buying Shabbos candles and—”

“You’re invited,” Todd said to Layla. “Tonight, be here at sunset or be square.”

“I’m going to have to be square,” she said. “Because Will’s mother request my presence at her Sabbath, excuse me, Shabbos table, and my mother, your sister,” she said to Fenn, “keeps teasing me about a Jewish wedding.” Layla thought about this. “The way things are going, she shouldn’t tease.”

“So how does Will feel about all of this?” Fenn said.

“I don’t really know,” Layla said.

“Because really, if Will isn’t into it, it doesn’t really matter. I mean, not as far as you’re concerned.”

“But I am into it,” Layla discovered, sitting across from Todd.

“I don’t know, I like church well enough. I like Jesus well enough. But I’m sure that’s not enough. When I go with Will, I find myself… more than liking. You know?”

Todd nodded, “Which brings us back to me.”

“That’s right,” Layla remembered. “All right, I did the checking. Every branch of Judaism that I know about, you have to formally convert to.”

“Shit,” Todd said.

Layla said, “You have to go through the mikvah, which is like being baptized. You have to give allegiance to a particular synagogue and attend it for at least a year, and—”

Todd shook his head.

“I don’t want to go to a synagogue. I found a way that I like. I’m not making my peace with a synagogue. I’m making my peace with my God. I don’t like that. I don’t like having to go through people to get through God. And jump through hoops. I spent years going to church and being a Catholic. That’s just the same shit over again.”

While Todd was shaking his head, he stopped, looked at Layla, and prompted her saying: “Is there anything else?”

“What the—Todd, are you circumcised?”

Fenn choked, but Todd said, “God, yes! Who isn’t? I think that shit looks gross.”

Layla shrugged. “Some folks like it.”

“Well, since you’re not circumcised, you will have to be pricked and bled. Though I’m not sure where, and I read one article that said they prick you on your wee wee.”

“Fuck no!” Todd said.

“I think that’s barbaric,” Fenn finally said.

“Then there are three other things,” Layla said. “There are these Russians who practiced Judaism, but did not convert, called Tabotchiks or something like that.”

“Tabotchiniks,” Fenn placidly corrected, adding rice to the soup pot.

“And then there’s another group called the Children of Noah, and they’re just called a Righteous Gentile if you don’t convert.”

“I don’t like it,” Todd murmured, shaking his head and stroking the patch of hair under his lower lip. “If I practice Hinduism, I’m a Hindu. If I practice Christianity I’m a Christian. Right? I might have to be initiated into a particular church, but still, I’m a Christian. It follows if you practice Judaism, you’re a Jew.”

“But they say it doesn’t work that way,” Layla reported.

“No, no,” Todd murmured, distracted. “But it should. I can’t agree to something I think is foolish.”

“Do you want to be a Jew, Todd?” Fenn said, plainly.

Todd looked up at him.

“Do you?”

“I want to do the thing,” Todd said. “To say I practice it, but I’m not it, seems wrong.”

“No one will know if you are or you aren’t,” Fenn said, “You don’t need a certificate of proof, and if you get one it can be revoked, and then not all sects will accept your certificate anyway.”

“You knew all this?” Layla said.

“You didn’t tell me,” Todd said.

“You didn’t ask me. I think you’re right You shouldn’t have to go through anyone,” Fenn said. “If you convert, you’re called a Ger. It’s not the same as being a born Jew. If you convert and become something else or walk away, it’s not treated the same. There is really only one way to ensure that you are a Jew, undeniably.”

Layla and Todd both looked at him.

“You have to be born one.”

“Uh, Fenn… I’ve already been born.”

“Yes, smartass,” Fenn said, dipping the wooden spoon in and stirring the pot. “So you should claim Judaism on the basis that your father or your mother was a Jew.”

“But they weren’t. Dad was half Lebanese, and a Catholic. Mom is German.”

“And both could very well be Jews. As likely as not they are.”

Todd puzzled that out.

“If your mother’s mother’s mother was a Jew, or her mother or her mother… then you are undeniably a Jew according to Orthodoxy. If your father was, which is much less likely, then you are a Jew according to the Reform. Simple as that.”

“Fenn,” Layla said, “by that logic we’re all probably Jews.”

Fenn nodded, “Yes. Probably, so. But we’re not worried about all of us, right now. Right now we’re thinking of Todd.”

That night Todd was downstairs in the living room, with a prayer book, murmuring the Hashkiveinu, which he had done ever since he’d first gone to Will Klasko’s synagogue with Layla, and Fenn was looking out of the window. He did not say, “Look, it’s the first snow,” because he did not want to interrupt the love of his life, who had never had anything like religion before. So he just watched the ice crystals fall to the sidewalk and the strip of yard outside, watched them twirl in the yellowness of the porch light. It would not stick. It could not stick. Thanksgiving wasn’t here yet. Besides, Fenn thought, I am not ready for winter.

Ready for winter? As if winter ever gave a goddamn if you were ready for it or not, and the truth was Thanksgiving was only days away now. Grandma and Mama had been calling over and over again asking, “Should I make the cheesecake, or the cherry pie? I’m already making pecan pie.”

“Buy the pecan pie and save yourself some trouble, and no, always cheesecake. We can have cherry anytime.”

“Macaroni or sweet potato pudding?”

“Both.”

“Chitterlings?”

“Absolutely not. No one in this family even eats those.”

His grandmother said, “We always had them on my table. It was just a staple.

“Lula, do you like chitterlings?”

“Well, no, Fenn. Not really. They look a little like guts, don’t they?”

“They are guts.”

“Well,” his grandmother said: “Yes.”

The snow swirled down thicker now, and even though Fenn was in his house, in the heat, he put his arms around his shoulders thinking about the approach of winter, and jumped when Todd placed his chin on his shoulder and wrapped his arms about him.

“Snow,” he observed. “First snow, Fenn.”

And then the phone rang and Todd said, “I’ll get it.”

“Who in the world would be calling at this time?” Fenn wondered.

They had any amount of friends and family. But on a week night? This close to eleven?”

“Yes,” Todd said. “Yes. All right. Fenn, it’s Barb. She was insistent on speaking to you.”

Fenn came to the phone said, “Barbara?”

Todd watched Fenn’s face change, and then Fenn said, “We’ll be right over. We will. No, yes we do.”

Fenn hung up.

Todd looked at him.

Fenn said: “Bob is dead.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Dan told Keith.

“Well, no,” the other priest agreed. “But I guess I’ll do what I can now, which is stay.”

Keith said nothing while Dan’s fingers fiddled with the pale blue stones of his rosary.

“You know what?” he said. “I feel… cheated. And I feel like I cheated them. Isn’t that stupid?”

Dan looked at him.

“I mean, Bob wasn’t young. Everyone has to go, right? But… I feel like it’s still a tragedy.” Keith spread his hands out. “Is life a tragedy then?”

The doorbell rang and Dan shouted back, “I’ll get it.

“Todd,” he said. “Fenn.”

Todd nodded and entered the house first while Dan said, “Barb is next to Bob waiting for the ambulance, and I think she’s talking to Milo.”

Milo came down the stairs, his head bent, hair obscuring his face and his leather jacket thrown on.

“Where are you going?” Fenn said.

“Oh,” Milo looked up. “Hey, Fenn. I’m going to see, Dena.”

“Todd, take Milo to your sister’s,” Fenn said.

Todd nodded.

“I can drive myself.”

Todd took the keys from Milo’s hand, handed them to Fenn and said, “Come on, Milo.”

Milo didn’t argue anymore. He just went out of the door while Todd said, “We’ll be back. At least, I will,” and closed the door behind him.

While Todd and Milo were leaving, the red lights of the ambulance could be seen through the curtains and now Barb came down. She looked upright and straight faced and she said, “Fenn, I’m glad you’re here.”

She looked at the two priests. “I’m glad you’re all here. Having an audience keeps me from falling apart, and I just can’t afford that shit right now. Someone open the door for the ambulance. Nevermind,” said Barb. “I’m here.”

The paramedics made quick work of their job.

“You know,” Barb said, “if it was life threatening they’d probably be slow as hell. But there’s really no hurry now, is there? And look at ‘em go.

“Milo called his folks,” Barb said. “They wanted to talk to me. His mother, she’s a real piece of work. I can only imagine the stuff she’d have to say. Right off a Hallmark card. I said I couldn’t put up with that right now. So they’re calling their brothers and sisters and whatever, and I guess the whole family knows now. I guess my sister will be here tomorrow. God, that woman. She’s so holy. Prays the chaplet of the Divine Mercy everyday, and always talking about the mercies of Mary…Well,” Barb sighed.

Suddenly, in the living room, bound in cloth and on a stretcher was the alarming sight of Bob Affren’s dead body.

But Barb didn’t seem to be alarmed at all, even though Dan stood with his mouth wide open and Keith, visibly shaken, murmured a prayer and traced the sign of the cross over the vague indication of Bob’s head.

“Fifty-six years,” Barb reflected, “and this is what I have to show for it. Um,” she shook her head.

And then they rolled Bob out of the door.

Dena was in her room when Layla, sitting on the bed, heard the knocking and said, “What’s that?”

Dena shrugged, pulled her housecoat on over her pajamas and opened the door, followed by her friend.

When they came downstairs, Nell and Todd were talking and Milo was coming toward the girls.

“Miles?” Dena said.

“Deen,” Milo said. “Layla.”

“What are you doing here?” She cocked her head. “Nothing’s wrong…. Right?”

Milo shook his head.

“I’ll be back for you later,” Todd said, putting a light hand on Milo’s shoulder.

Milo nodded.

“No,” Nell said. “You might as well stay with us.”

“He just went a few minutes ago,” Milo reported to Dena. “I called my folks, and then I waited for the ambulance to arrive. Todd and Fenn came over. And then Todd brought me here.”

“You know what?” Layla said. “How about you wait a minute, Todd. I’ll get dressed, and go home.”

“No,” Milo said, almost panicked. Then, “No. Please stay. I really just want my friends right now.”

Layla, ever practical, nodded and said: “Todd, skip that. I’m going to get on the phone.”

Will and Brendan arrived together, Brendan in a blue stocking hat with ear flaps. Layla told Dena, “I love Bren, but I don’t know what the hell you saw in him.”

The first thing Brendan did was hug Milo tightly, and then shake him by the shoulders and Layla, shrugging, said, “Okay, now I see.”

A little while later her brother came along with Claire, who gave the night’s second tightest hug along with a twist, and Layla commented: “You’ll be a good mother one day.”

Claire shrugged. “I’ll just be the type of mother who can’t let go.”

“I heard,” Milo said—they were all mingling in the kitchen—“that you pretended to have sex in a closet with some guy at a college party.”

“Yes,” Julian said. “It was the first party of our college career, and I was there.”

“Now everyone thinks I’m crazy. Or a slut. And no one can figure what the hell’s wrong with Julian for tolerating me.”

“And the kid?” Milo said. “The one you boned… or pseudo boned?”

“Well, technically, I was the one being pseudo boned,” Claire said. “Well, I’m sure he’s as gay as he ever was.”

“Are you sure?” Brendan said.

“Bren, honey, what the hell are you wearing?”

“Kenny gave it to me,” Brendan told Claire.

She shrugged and made a noise.

“Yes, Brendan. Chad’s just waiting for a man’s touch. If you have any free time and don’t feel like driving up for Kenny, I’m sure he’d be glad for you to show him the ropes.”

“Not funny,” Brendan said in his small, mellow voice, even though he colored.

“Besides, most gay kids already know the ropes a long time before anyone suspects they do.”

“Where do you think he is?” Milo said when everyone had gone to sleep, except for Julian and Claire who had gone back to campus, and Will was the only one left awake.

“Um?”

“I never thought about death,” Milo said. “Or heaven. Or anything like that. And now I’m thinking about it a lot. Like… where do people go? Where did he go?”

Will Klasko never spoke if he had nothing to say, and he didn’t like saying cute things, so he just let Milo talk.

“I mean, whenever you see pictures of heaven, or hear about it, it’s all these clouds and people with harps or… the Virgin Mary and Jesus sitting around God—who’s this old guy on a throne. And… I don’t know if I believe that. I mean… I don’t know if I would even want that. It seems really…”

“Lame?”

“Yeah.”

Will nodded.

“I never really thought too much about it,” Will said. “I mean, I think whenever I heard all that stuff I just told myself I was Jewish. Mind you, I’d never bothered with going to a synagogue. I mean I never got bar mitzvahed, so I just assumed it meant I didn’t have to believe in anything they told me at Saint Barbara’s. But… Jews do believe in an afterlife.”

“What’s it like?”

“We don’t know,” Will shrugged. “Some believe in reincarnation. Some believe in heaven, but don’t know what it is. Some people believe you won’t be resurrected until Judgment Day, or something like that. All they know is that… you go on, and you go where you want to be. I did some reading, and one rabbi said that when you die its because your soul, your highest soul, wants to leave. It’s ready.”

Milo was quiet a long time. Then he said: “I hope so. I hope he wanted to go.

“What do you believe?” he asked after awhile.

“I believe we go on,” Will said. “I don’t know how, or where. I just believe we go on. And… I just think if there’s a God we get to go on together. I just think that’s true. And I’m not entirely sure that the only reason I feel that is because it sounds good. I mean, I really feel like I’m sure of that. The rest…” Will shook his head, “I don’t know about.”

Milo Affren, looking out into the darkness where white flakes of snow swirled down, nodded considering this, but said nothing.