Chapter 8 - Sheep

"Why didn't you tell me?”

Tears in her eyes, Cindy stood, holding her lemon-coloured apron, her face white and crumpled.

Tim was about to take a step forwards and attempt to console her, but he saw so much contempt and fury flash in her eyes he stopped in his tracks.

“Why did I have to find out from the TV you’ve been seeing this man?” Cindy stuttered between sobs. “Why did I have to find out from Arlen that you’ve been lying all this time and taking meth too?”

Reeling, gasping for breath, Tim sat down on a chair. He buried his face in his hands.

“I was just so afraid you would turn against me. I was afraid how you’d criticise me. I just couldn't bear it.”

Cindy put her hands on her hips in amazement.

“Criticise you? What do you mean you can’t bear to be criticised! Here you are betraying me, telling me lies, deceiving me, concealing from me for two years that you’ve been sleeping with a male escort, and scoring meth, and you can’t bare to be criticised? What do you expect me to do? Jump on the table and do a tap dance for joy?” Cindy cried, wringing the ends of her apron. “I thought you were a strong man, but it’s clear to me now you’re as weak as water! Will you ever show up? Will you ever take responsibility for what you’ve done?”

“How I wish I’d never done it…”

“How can I ever trust you again?" Cindy burst out, her voice trembling. “If only you'd told me about Rob Owen! If only you'd said something! I'm sure we could have found a way to deal with it. We could have found a way forward. If you'd recognised that going to that Rob Owen was wrong and dangerous, I'm sure we could have talked it all out, and put our lives but on track. Who knows? Our relationship might even have been the better for a crisis like this. But the fact that you didn't tell me shows me just how little respect you have for me.”

Tim got to his feet. He was breathing fast: he was pale, and his lips trembled.

“No, no, it’s not true!” he cried. “I always respected you. I didn’t want to hurt you, Cindy.”

“Remember that book you wrote about honesty, Tim? Where is that honesty now?"

“I was scared you'd leave me! I really tried to fight these feelings for men. But they were too strong. I couldn’t help myself. It’s in my genetic make up, I guess. I didn’t chose to be gay. Nature made me that way. I just wasn’t allowed to live out that love. Society didn’t let me. All kinds of pressures stopped me. I felt like I was exploding inside. It was like an addiction. I went and got my fix and I was okay for a while. I thought I could keep going like that. I care so much for you, Cindy!"

"Care for me? What do you mean? You sound like some kind of court jester? We're not talking about some silly impulse here. We're talking three years of treachery! Three years of lies!"

"I can’t explain it, Cindy. I couldn't stop myself. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself going. I craved it. I craved him like a drug. I feel so embarrassed, so ashamed of what I did!"

"Oh dear!" Cindy said, sarcastically, "so embarrassed, so ashamed! Oh, it makes me laugh. Of course, you're the very same man who's always preaching against gay sex and gay marriage. Let others practice what you preach, eh, Tim? You'll just bask in the glory and bank the big salary."

"No, no! If you only knew, Cindy, how I felt….I craved love, yes I hungered for love! I just love men more. For years I've been fighting these feelings. I really wanted to live a clean life and be a good husband. I begged for God to help me! To help me fight my desire! But it was there, raging inside me. I felt so ashamed. I didn't want to admit it to myself I was gay. I didn't want to admit to myself that I was so depressed either."

"Depressed?"

“I’ve just had this feeling that there’s nothing worth living for. All I do is work, work, work, but I don’t know even what for. Maybe I’m just suffering from burn out. But I just feel my life is so futile, so pointless! There were days when I thought about ending it all.”

“Why didn’t you talk to someone?”

“Who?”

“Someone in the church?”

“You think they want to know?” Tim said, his eyes glittering with anger. “You think they want to know what’s really going on in other people’s hearts and souls? All they want is more people coming to the church and more money so they can build even bigger complexes and afford even bigger houses for themselves. I’m just the entertainer to bring in the crowds. I’m just expected to perform, function, day in, day out, no matter what, give my sermons, the Bible Study sessions, the TV shows. Yes, all they want is from me is more revenue! Results! Results! If the attendance drops one Sunday, then they’re already on my back. I feel so much pressure like I’m a CEO of a company. I spend most of my time in meetings discussing revenue streams, marketing campaigns, and budgets than anything else. Money, money, money. Everyone wants to be promoted, get a bigger salary. How could I talk about how I felt in that cutthroat atmosphere? That’s how it is in our church!”

“Not Arlen. Arlen is sincere.”

“He’s one of the few.”

“What about Jude?”

“Yeah, but what say does Jude have? Zack Montgomery is the henchman. He tyrannises his wife and kids. But come Sunday, they'll thump that Bible! You call me a fraud, but what about them? After all, a pastor in our church earns 120,000 dollars!”

“Great! So you’re saying that everyone else is as corrupt as you.”
“It’s true. I didn’t feel I could talk to anyone about what I was feeling without getting all the sanctimonious baloney that just serves as a cover to cut my salary or make me work harder or throw me out. I’ve always felt so alone, so isolated, left to cope with all the pressure myself. I’ve always known that if I failed, everyone would turn on me. I was sick and tired to living a lie. But I was scared of losing everything I had: my house, job, the community….You know I’ve been taking speed just to get through my sermons on Sunday. I went to Rob Owen because he lifted me up. If I didn’t see him, I thought I was going to die."

"Oh, you were going to die, were you?" cried Cindy. "You didn't die, though. What a shame! Instead, you just made me suffer and, worse, our kids suffer! How do you think they feel knowing they have a liar, a cheat and a hypocrite for a father! They're bursting with pride, oh yes, to know that their father has been going to a gay prostitute for two years. Gerry always looked up to you like a hero! How do you think he feels now? Do you think about that? Do you think about what this means to us? I mean, there are so many beautiful, positive, wonderful things in life. I want to think about them. We all do. Our kids do, too. They have a right to think about that side of life. Now we find ourselves having to think about the ugly, sordid, dark side of life. That’s what you have given us. A ticket to the dark side of life. Well, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life living in a place of the darkness because of you and your actions. I owe myself something too. I owe it to myself and my development as a human being to find an environment that supports me in my desire to live a good, loving life. If you don’t offer me that environment, then I owe it to myself to quit you and find another better place for me. I owe it to our kids too to find the best environment for them. For their sake, I have to show them that some things can’t just be brushed aside. If I don’t, they might begin to think it’s okay to lie and deceive and have gay sex with escorts and take meth! It might be easier to stay put, but the easy route is not always the best one.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“I want a divorce!”

“What about our marriage vows? Our marriage?”

“What marriage? How can I believe anything you say any more? Without trust, I don’t see how there can be a marriage. When Christ said, let no man tear asunder what God has joined together, he meant the spirit and soul of a man and woman, not their conniving, fake, selfish, egotistical shells!”

"Please Cindy, I wish you’d at least try to understand….If you understood how empty I felt, how down I felt!”
"Oh, poor Tim. As if you're the only one in the world to have it hard. You know, I was talking to one woman from the church yesterday whose husband was killed in Iraq. Now she has to raise three kids on her own! Now that's what I call a tragedy. But she doesn't collapse in a heap of self pity and started going to escorts!"

"I know," said Tim. "I'm so ashamed. But I had this pain…."

"I understand your pain. I do. I do really. But what I don't understand is the way you chose to deal with it. Why didn't you ask for help? Why didn't you go speak to a psychologist or a counsellor if you couldn’t talk to me or someone at the church?"

Tim wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

"It was my pride, I guess. I always wanted to be perfect pastor, the paragon of virtue, the hero. I was in total denial but these feelings became more uncontrollable, the more I denied them!”

"If only you'd told me, Tim. I’m sure we could have worked something out. I could have dealt with you having sex with another man! I wanted so much to love you. I was sure I would…"

"But you couldn't, right?" Cindy cried out, her face crinkling in scorn.

Next moment, her expression changed. She rushed up to Tim, went down on her knees, clasping his legs.

"Tim, I know I'm useless," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Other people might blame you for what you did, but I don't. I know I'm a useless woman. I can't give you the kind of love I should have. I can’t give anyone that kind of love. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I always want to be perfect, to please everyone, to live up to everyone’s expectations. I'm always so frightened I might say or do the wrong thing. I'm always afraid you might turn away from me disappointed. I'm afraid I drove you to this because I never gave of myself and of my heart. Yes, yes, you’re right. I loved you, but not enough."

Tim looked at Cindy, amazed.

"No, no," he muttered. “It was all my fault. I didn’t deal with my problems. I didn’t face up to my responsibility. It has nothing to do with you. Nothing!”

"It does,” Cindy said.

Tears were streaming down her cheek. She wiped them away, trembling.

“I know it’s true. I know things between us haven’t always been what they should have been. That’s why you went to him. You went in search of love.”

“No, you have always been the best wife!”

“If I had loved you, you wouldn't have gone to that awful man!” Cindy said.

Tim's expressed changed. Eyes glittering, he jumped to his feet.

"Why do you assume he's awful! Rob Owen isn't! He's a gentle, kind and honest man!" Tim cried.

Cindy's eyes blazed up with fresh hatred.

"If he's so fantastic, then go stay with him," she cried.

"Don't be ridiculous!”

“You’re being ridiculous! You love him, do you? Really? Well, what kind of love is that? You paid him 300 dollars for an hour! I bet his life as an escort is no piece of cake. If you had really loved him, you would have helped him to get out of that life. Instead, you exploited his situation. And now you make out you love him! Oh, Tim loves Owen! Tim idolise this escort, this druggie?”

Tim walked up to her, his fists clenched.

"Don't talk about Rob Owen like that!" he cried, his eyes blazing.

Cindy took a step back in fear.

"Like what?" she muttered.

"Like he’s scum or filth. He isn't! He’s a great man in his own way!"

"You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe he's some kind of Mahatma Gandhi?"

“If you knew him...”

“Oh, yeah, you can always introduce us! "Hi Rob, I'm the wife of Tim, who's been paying you for sex for two years. It's so nice to meet you, and may I ask where you got your curtains from? I like that floral pattern.”

"It was all my fault!"

"Say that again!"

"For Owen it was just business. It was me who nrrfrf more……. ….."

"That's really putting my mind at rest. I mean, telling me how I left you feeling so empty that you had to go to gay prostitutes to satisfy your need for love! Yes. Even a gay prostitute is more capable of satisfying your needs than I am!"

"I didn't mean it like that! It was a mistake."

"It's more than a mistake, more than a little hiccup, a hi jinks. How can I ever trust you again? If you told me today is Monday, I'd double check my calendar!"

"I'm really sorry, Cindy!"

"Sorry? You're just sorry you were caught red handed, that's all!" She cried, scornfully.

Tim shook his fist in paroxysm of rage.
“You’re right! Why am I saying I’m sorry?” he cried. “The truth is I’m not sorry. The truth is if that Rob Owen had taken me, I would have gone to live with him. I’m sick and tired of always trying to please you, always trying to make you happy. I’m sick and tired of giving and never getting anything in return.”

“Nothing in return? I always loved you…”

“Not enough!” Tim cried, turning scarlet. “You were right when you said that. I always felt you only loved me if I measured up to your expectations. I never felt you loved me for what I was.”

“What…?.”

“You wanted the perfect pastor husband, the man with no flaws, the big success, the big earner!” he shouted, his eyes bulging with fury.
He was breathing rapidly. Hatred distorted his face.

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to get irritated? Ask any wife on this planet earth if she gets irritated with her husband from time to time and she’ll say yes…”

“Ask any wife! That’s it!” Tim shouted out. “That’s what I’ve always found so annoying about you! You have no mind of your own! You’re like all the rest of them in the church. Sheep! Bahh! Bahh! No mind of your own! Sleepwalkers! It doesn’t matter what the people church say, you’ll say Amen as long as it comes from some figure of authority, some government official. Yes, you'd march straight into a FEMA camp if they ordered you and die there behind barbed wire without lifting a finger to escape. And you know why? You’ll say yes just because everyone else is saying yes! You'll march into the FEMA camp if everyone else is marching into the camp. You'd accept martial law here in the US! Yes, you'd accept UN troops shooting other Americans! Now you’ve got the cheek to claim you would have accepted that I had feelings for men if I’d told you. That’s baloney, Cindy! I’ve lived with you for 26 years and I know how bigoted and narrow minded and mindless you are.”

“That’s not true...”

“It is true!” Tim shouted. “You just married me because your father told you to. That’s all! You were afraid of facing life on your own back then without your father or some other figure of authority. You’re afraid of facing it on your own now. You just want to hide all the time from life and its harsh realities like so many weak women. Hide behind your father, hide behind me, hide behind the church, hide behind the government. You hate new things. You hate risks. All you want is to play it safe. You’re always judging me, putting pressure on me to act just the same way as the other husbands of your mediocre feebs of friends. You’re terrified that I might put a foot wrong and your status might slip. Well, now I have failed. I have failed totally and it’s almost liberating to be free of all these chains.”

Cindy tried to say something, but Tim interrupted, his voice hoarse.

“Yes I’ve broken out of the little box you and all the others have tried to put me in,” Tim continued with a euphoric gleam in his eyes. “I’ve smashed the lock open. I’m free of the burden of living up to all your tiny minded expectations. Now you have to face the truth about what I am really like and you can’t, can you? You can’t face the truth that I am not a 100 per cent sheep and a 100 per cent cliché and not 100 per cent under your control. I’m not a machine without feelings or desires of my own,” he shouted, his eyes blazing.

Cindy tried to interrupt him but Tim carried on regardless, his eyes blazing.
“In your book, Owen is the lowest of the low, a male escort, a drug dealer. But Rob Owen dared to be himself! And Owen never hurt anyone. He never lied. I lied. He didn’t lie to himself either. In fact, he was the only honest man I’ve evermet. Everyone else makes the choices according to what their parents, peers or church wants. They let other people, figures of authority, tell them what to do. All they want to do is shirk, shirk life.”

Tim stopped. He was trembling all over: paroxysms of rage shook his body.

Cindy looked at him, her eyes flashing, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I can’t believe what you’ve just said!” she cried. “You just want to blame me for your own weakness! Why don’t you take responsibility for what you did? Why don’t you step up to the plate and say: look this is what I did, and I take full responsibility? Why do you say these awful things about me. You think it doesn’t hurt me when you call me a fraud and bigot? Why do you turn on me like that? Well, here’s some news for you. I’m not taking the flak. No, I’m not. I’m not going to be punch bag, the scape goat, the fall guy. Okay, I accept I don’t challenge the church and what it teaches me. But when it comes to our marriage, I’ve always tried to do my best. I always put my own wishes to the side just to be there for you. Now you’ve thrown that in my face, too. You say I did it our of weakness. Not true. I made an effort to keep our home going and our family together. Someone has to step back and do all the work. And if you were really so unhappy with me all these years, then why didn’t you leave me long ago? Why didn’t you say something years ago? No, you just wanted your bread buttered on both sides, didn’t you Tim? Well, I’ve got news for you. I’m not going to be the scapegoat! I’ve been holding the family together while you focus on your career and on your adventures for too long! It was me who was expected to make all the sacrifices. You always wanted everything your way. You were the one who wanted to be the great pastor and go on TV. I’d have been happy with a quiet, family life. And now when it turns out you are weak and deceitful fraud, you blame me. You say I didn’t keep you happy! Pardon me! What more could I have done? Well, listen to this Tim, you are not making me happy! Yes, you’re making me depressed, down and empty. I’m not going to be blamed for your character flaws! I’m going to get a divorce! You’ve never cared for me. The news about Rob Owen is just the last straw! That’s it! Over! Finished!”

Cindy said. She turned and stopped on the doorstep to wipe the tears from her eyes, so devastated she could barely lift her handkerchief to her face. Then she walked on, slamming the door behind her.