Sunday, July 3, 2016

The Colors of Hate - 49



Dean stared at his father in shock. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Pastor Lou Travers nodded towards the man standing a few feet away. “He knows his job and does it well.”

“Yeah, well tell you what, you and he can leave now. I want nothing to do with you so get out!”

Pastor Travers remained seated as he told his companion to go wait in the hallway. When the man did as ordered, Dean’s father turned his gaze back to his son. “I don’t know why I bothered to come out here. Some sort of perverse need to see the creature I spawned, I suppose.”

“So says the homophobic bastard who spawned me. Have your say and vanish. I never want to see you again.”

“Believe me, Dean, the feeling is mutual.” He steepled his fingers as he stared at him. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

Dean smiled. “Hopefully I’ve damaged you and the CVA. Although I’m sure you’ll find some way to blame what I am on someone else. Hell, maybe you’ll tell the world I was seduced and turned gay when I was too young to resist. That would be your style in spades. Well have at it. But if you try, I’ll be right there on every talk show that will have me, explaining the real facts of life—and going into details on how you tried to brainwash me into believing your fanatically bigoted falsehoods.”  

Pastor Travers shook his head. “That will not happen.”

Dean’s eyebrows arched up. “I doubt you could stop me.”

“Oh I wouldn’t, not personally, but the true believers will. You can count on that.”

“Threats, father?”

“Promises.”

“So be it. Trust me, if anything happens to me the world will blame you first. The father who could not accept his son as he is and set his minions to deal with the ‘abomination’.”

“You are an abomination, you and all of your kind,” Pastor Travers spat out, his voice full of vitriol. “The world, as you put it, would be happy to know there is at least one less of you to spread your perverted ways to the innocent children.”

“Get. Out. Now,” Dean said between clenched teeth.

“Afraid of the truth of my words,” his father said as he stood.

“There is no truth in anything that comes out of your mouth. You are a hateful old man who wouldn’t know the truth if it came down on the wings of angels.”

“Do not blaspheme!”

“Father, you are the blasphemer, not me.” Dean threw open the door to his apartment. “As Troy Perry once said, ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, and he knows I’m gay’. Think about that the next time you stand in your pulpit to preach your bigoted words against us.”

Without another word, his hatred for Dean filling his countenance, Pastor Travers stalked out of the apartment.

Dean closed the door and collapsed against it. Well if I hadn’t alienated him before, for sure I have now. He chuckled softly. And damned if I don’t feel good about it.

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