A Fountain Filled With Blood

“Reverend Clare, we can’t afford to have St. Alban’s name linked to any more…scandals. Not after last December. I’ve seen how you can get with these little pet projects of yours. The unwed teenage mothers. Those old drunks. Right? Let’s all get on the same page with this. Homosexuals getting attacked while cruising is unfortunate, of course, but it doesn’t have anything to do with us. I’m sure I’m speaking for the whole vestry when I say we sincerely don’t want to see you in the news again unless it’s the annual ‘What Is the Meaning of Easter?’ story.”

Clare felt the phone go slippery in her grasp and realized she had been squeezing it too tightly. “So this means you don’t think I should ride down Main Street buck naked, calling for all lesbian, gay, and transgendered people to join us in an interfaith service at St. Alban’s?”

There was a heavy pause. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Robert, are you deliberately trying to be offensive, or is it just accidental? My ‘little pet projects’? Do you really believe it has nothing to do with us? Since when does hatred and prejudice breaking out in our own community not concern us?”

Over the line, she could hear him groan. “I knew it. I told Terry Wright. I said you were probably chomping at the bit to save the gays.”

“You were talking about me with Terry Wright?” Terence Wright, senior vice president in the corporate loan department of AllBanc, was another vestry member. “Who else?”

“A few phone calls were made between members of the vestry. The situation was discussed. Some concerns were expressed.”

The passive voice was used. Clare rolled her eyes. “I’m curious. Was Sterling Sumner included in these discussions?”

“I didn’t happen to speak with him.”

“Ha.”

“What do you mean, ‘ha’?”

“I mean, ha, he’s the only gay member of the vestry.”

“Sterling is not gay! He’s just artistic!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Robert. Do you think he wears that scarf year-round because he’s cold?”

The developer, who was a good twenty-five years her senior and probably did think the flamboyant Sumner had an ‘artistic’ temperament, sputtered over the phone.

“Look,” she went on, “I had been concerned about the issues raised by the assaults on Dr. Dvorak and Todd MacPherson. But to tell the truth, I’ve been so swept away by events that I hadn’t been thinking about anything in any coherent fashion. Now I will.”

Corlew started to speak, but she steamed forward. “We’ll have a meeting. We haven’t gotten the whole vestry together since May. We’ll talk about what it means to live in a community where homophobia rises to the point of violent hate crimes and what we, as Christians, ought to do about it.”

“There’s no way you’re going to get everybody together at the church in July. Lacey Marshall and Sterling are both ensconced in their camps at Lake George, and I can guarantee you they won’t leave before September. Norm Madsen is off on one of those Elderhostel trips, picking up old pottery shards in Greece.”

“You and Terry are in town, aren’t you?”

“We hardly comprise the whole vestry. And Terry’s actually on vacation from the bank this week. I was going to take him sailing—”

“Okay, let’s do that. Where is it you sail?”

“What? Where? Lake George, of course. But—”

“Great. Let’s all meet at the lake and have our discussion there. We can do it before you and Terry go out, at either Mrs. Marshall’s or Sumner’s summer house, or—how big is your boat?”

“Forty-two feet. Are you proposing a floating vestry meeting?”

“Sure! That way, no one has to be dragged away from their summer fun.”

There was a dead silence for a moment. Then he said, “That’s a joke, right?”

“No, the transgendered liberation parade was a joke. This is a proposal. The alternative is that we drag everybody in here for a nice long un-air-conditioned meeting. I don’t want to discuss this over the phone, one person at a time. We’ll never get anywhere. And the issue needs addressing now, not in September. When were you going to meet Terry?”

“Friday,” he said.

“Great! Friday would work well for me. I’ve got home visits in the morning and then the noontime Eucharist, but I’m free the rest of the afternoon. Look, I’m going to pass you back to Lois. You let her know where and when to meet at your boat, and she’ll notify everyone else. I’m glad you called and brought this up, Robert. This will really help clarify where we, as a church, stand.”

“Reverend Clare…” She could hear grinding noises from the other end.

“Yes, Robert?”

There were some more noises. Finally, he managed to say, “I’ll see you on Friday.”