Mark Smythe Esquire Naked in SchoolChapter 24
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“Dr. Goldman, why did you and Ms. Clarke enrol my son in the Naked In School program? Honestly, why? It’s against every principle and precept of our Christian family! My husband is an ordained Baptist minister and preacher of the Gospel. This is very much the opposite of what we believe!” Mom glared at Dr. Goldman, who simply shrugged before he spoke, while Becky blushed and squirmed for some reason, trying not to stare at me.
“Because his name was drawn randomly out of the lottery system that we have these days. It’s actually turned out, mostly, well for him, and for Chloe and Adela here, too. We have three students enrolled in the Naked In School program this year, in fact,” Dr. Goldman held firm.
“And Mr. Smythe has been very cooperative, in fact. He’s been a good sport about it all, including the reasonable requests, not all of which were reasonable at all, from what I heard,” Ms. Clarke proved herself incapable of keeping her foot out of her mouth.
“Has he? Well, we’ll just have to see what his father has to say about that!” Mom gritted her teeth and plainly refused to offer any refreshments to our guests, which was not like her at all.
“Well, while you’re at it, tell Dad that I have a girlfriend, and that’s Chloe here. I’m also engaged to Adela. So, yes, I have a girlfriend and a fiancee, if you’re keeping score,” I grew bolder, since I was already in trouble, I could tell.
Mom went white in the face, while Becky blushed even more, but before they could speak further, I then told them, “Oh, and Marcie is my booty call. Sarah is my slave. And Katrina, let’s just say that we’re friends with benefits.”
“My baby brother the stud!” Becky laughed out loud in spite of herself.
“Rebecca Leigh Smythe, how dare you encourage such immorality!” Mom chided her, “It’s not funny. It’s a path of sin that leads Mark astray, away from God. It’s the work of the Devil! We didn’t adopt you to have you do this to us!”
“You adopted me and you keep throwing it in my face every time we turn around, too! As if I should be pathetically grateful that you took me in as a stray! Look, I appreciate that you did that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am a grown woman now and have to make my own choices. Oh, and by the way, Mom, I’m black, in case you forgot! Is there any reason why you raised me to be so white? Aside from the fact that you’re white yourselves?” Becky proved a bit more defiant than I expected.
“I will not be disrespected in my own house, young lady!” Mom roared at Becky and I dreaded what came next, especially as that was the moment that Dad walked into the house.
“Okay, now, this is not I wished to come home to today, after a long day of visiting shut-ins, potential members, and lost souls seeking God’s light! Clearly, Satan is working overtime here, causing my daughter to act out, and maybe my son, just guessing from the appearance of the school principal, who I just saw at the open house, as I recall. What is the matter? What has Mark done and why is Becky mouthing off to her mother? I will not abide such sass in my home! This is a Christian family and a Christian household! Honor your father and mother, Becky. That is the Fourth Commandment and the first one with a promise!” Dad almost immediately broke into a sermon, being the preacher that he was.
“This was not intended to be disrespectful at all, just honest and perhaps shocking, in order to bring you back to Earth with the rest of us mortals,” Becky stated, softening her tone just a bit.
“So, you’re basically saying that we’re not being realistic or practical. About what, exactly?” Dad insisted on knowing.
“Well, for one thing, a black girl should be kept aware of her black heritage, even if you’re raising her white. Not totally cut off from black culture, you know. Or was there something about black culture that you find offensive?” Becky confronted Dad now.
“That’s just college PC nonsense, has nothing to do with the Lord or the Gospel, or any other such things. It’s a distraction from what matters. Black and white don’t matter in the sight of God and you know that. Black culture, white culture, it’s all American culture, anyway. What matters is where you stand with God!” Dad tried to convince my sister.
“Well, here’s a bit more of that PC college stuff, Dad ... I’m not a virgin anymore, or a Christian for that matter. So, deal with that!” Becky shocked everyone with that statement.
“I’m very disappointed and saddened, of course, but if you were saved once, God will lead you back. If not, I pray that you will get saved before it’s too late,” Dad continued sermonizing.
“That makes two of us upsetting you, then. I don’t believe in everything that you teach or preach. I have a girlfriend, a fiancee, a booty call, a sex slave, and at least one, maybe more, friends with benefits. And I’m bisexual. I love you, Mom and Dad, but love doesn’t mean that I have to share your views. Or the Bible’s, for that matter,” I told him upfront.
“I’m ... very upset with this. The difference here is that you’re not 18 yet, so I can and will ground you for your sins. I don’t know if you’re saved or not, acting as you do, but I will try my best to lead you back to God’s will,” Dad insisted.
“Yes, you’re grounded, Mark. When not at school or church, and yes, you are going to church, you’re staying home until your attitude changes. This is your doing, isn’t it, Dr. Goldman?” Mom demanded of my principal.
“My doing? No! I don’t agree with your religion and I don’t think that Mark has done anything worth punishing him over, especially with the reasonable requests that are asked of him, but I’m not one to proselytize. I’m a Jew. We don’t do that. A very secular Jew, anyway, so I’m not likely to want to convert anyone to the Faith, either. Try and understand that the Naked In School program is mandatory, and with that come the reasonable requests, and that’s a fine line between what is compulsory and what is optional there. Mark complied with the rules and in the process developed feelings for certain people, that’s all. What’s the wrong in that? Is he drinking, smoking, using drugs, partying? No. He’s a good boy. He just likes women, a lot ... and some guys, too,” Dr. Goldman retorted, trying to reassure my folks.
“That’s a very harmful and sinful path, don’t you see? It’s wickedness, the very same thing that God punished Israel for in the Old Testament. This is what is destroying America from within. Sin. Immorality. Tolerance of evil. Godlessness. I don’t expect you to grasp that, but it’s the truth. And we’re pulling him out of high school. This was a mistake, putting him in a public school. We’ll put him in a Christian school ... This is just not acceptable! It’s wrong!” Mom ranted.
“You will not, Mom and Dad! I love you, but I can’t follow your path, even if it leads to Heaven. I just can’t. It’s not who I am. Do you love me or the Christian version of me, a fundamentalist like yourselves? I don’t buy it, guys. I just don’t! Do I have any recourse on this?” I asked Dr. Goldman and Ms. Clarke.
“You can file for emancipation or seek to make Becky your legal guardian. At your age, the courts would at least consider your views, being so close to eighteen,” Ms. Clarke assured me, “but it would be better if Reverend and Mrs. Smythe simply let you be yourself. Where’s the harm in that?”
“The harm is that he might end up burning in Hell for eternity, just like you, Ms. Clarke!” Dad stormed off now, truly upset, “I love my son too much to let him suffer the wrath of God forever if I can help it!”
“I respect your views, but seriously, there is no Hell and I think that we’re all grown-up enough here to admit that fact. I mean, scientifically, it doesn’t add up. Nor historically, Mrs. Smythe. I love your son too much to let him deny himself over fairy tales,” Adela spoke her mind now.
“I would agree with that. By the way, I’m transgender, and if you don’t like that, too bad! I love your son and I respect you for bringing him up, but I wish him to be happy in this life, the one that actually exists. If you want to hate me, hate me for who I am, and yes, I’m Mexican, too! I’m a Mexican transwoman who happens to be in love with your son, ever since he stood up for me! He is a man of great morals, just not yours,” Chloe declared.
“This is what happens when you turn down nice Christian girls, Mark. What’s the matter with you? Why would you not want Donna Davis, a godly Christian girl, unlike these two?” Mom asked me, truly unable to grasp my tastes in women.
“I’m not cut out for that kind of woman, that kind of life. I love these ladies. I love you. I love Becky. I love Dad. I just have different kinds of love. Oddly enough, I do care about Donna. Just like a younger sister or cousin or something. Not like that. We’re just not compatible, at least not how she is. Look, I don’t want to hurt you guys, but this is me. The real me. I can’t become someone who I’m not, live a lie, just to please everyone. That’s not living. It’s just existing. To me, that is what Hell is, not an afterlife that I don’t believe exists at all.
“I think that it’s best that I live somewhere else, even before I turn eighteen, which is only months away, anyway. I don’t have to win an emancipation fight ... I just have to drag it out at this point until I’m eighteen and it’s moot, anyway,” I observed, fighting back tears because I didn’t want to hurt my parents, but I had to be my own man for a change.
“This is your doing! We should sue the school for doing this to our son!” Mom burst into tears, while Becky tried to comfort her, but she refused to let her, “You’ve stolen our son!”
“Come live with me, Mark. I know that it’s gonna be a while before Mom and Dad can handle this, if ever. You don’t need to deal with all that. I’ll try to become your legal guardian or something for the last few months, in case you need something, but in the worst case, we can tough it out until you come of age. That’s New Year’s Day, anyway, not that far off at all. How appropriate, really. New Year. New life. I don’t want my brother being grounded for being himself and I don’t want you being kicked onto the streets or living in a shelter,” Becky invited me, “but once you graduate, you’ll get a job, right? Not before then. I would rather that you focus on school until that point.”
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