By That Sin Fell the Angels

By Jamie Fessenden

It begins with a 3:00 a.m. telephone call. On one end is Terry Bachelder, a closeted teacher. On the other, the suicidal teenage son of the local preacher. When Terry fails to prevent disaster, grief rips the small town of Crystal Falls apart.

At the epicenter of the tragedy, seventeen-year-old Jonah Riverside tries to make sense of it all. Finding Daniel’s body leaves him struggling to balance his sexual identity with his faith, while his church, led by the Reverend Isaac Thompson, mounts a crusade to destroy Terry, whom Isaac believes corrupted his son and caused the boy to take his own life.

Having quietly crushed on his teacher for years, Jonah is determined to clear Terry’s name. That quest leads him to Eric Jacobs, Daniel’s true secret lover, and to get involved in Eric’s plan to shake up their small-minded town. Meanwhile, Rev. Thompson struggles to make peace between his religious convictions and the revelation of his son's homosexuality. If he can’t, he leaves the door open to eternal damnation—and for a second tragedy to follow.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DSP Publications
• Release date: Aug 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781634763530

Jamie Fessenden

Jamie Fessenden is an author of gay fiction in many genres. Most involve romance, because he believes everyone deserves to find love, but after that anything goes: contemporary, science fiction, historical, paranormal, mystery, or whatever else strikes his fancy. He set out to be a writer in junior high school. He published a couple short pieces in his high school’s literary magazine and had another story place in the top 100 in a national contest, but it wasn’t until he met his partner, Erich, almost twenty years later, that he began writing again in earnest. With Erich alternately inspiring and goading him, Jamie wrote several novels and published his first novella in 2010. That same year, Jamie and Erich married and purchased a house together in the wilds of New Hampshire, where there are no street lights, turkeys and deer wander through their yard, and coyotes serenade them under the stars. Visit Jamie: jamiefessenden.wordpress.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Jamie-Fessenden-Author/102004836534286 Twitter: @JamieFessenden1

Book preview

cover.jpgimg1.png

Copyright

img2.jpg

Published by

DSP PUBLICATIONS

5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886  USA

http://www.dsppublications.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

By That Sin Fell the Angels

© 2015 Jamie Fessenden.

Cover Art

© 2012 Paul Richmond.

http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact DSP Publications, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dsppublications.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-63476-352-3

Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-353-0

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015906691

Second Edition August 2015

First Edition published by Itineris Press, August 2012

Printed in the United States of America

img3.jpg

This paper meets the requirements of

ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).

Dedicated to all those who struggle to reconcile their faith

with who they are.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’D LIKE to thank my friend Claire Curtis, who always provides valuable critiques of my work, and Cooper West, whose encouragement helped convince me that this story was worth releasing to the world. And I would also like to thank my stepfather, Bob Rennie, and Robert Stiefel, both of whom exemplify to me what the word Christian really means.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2010

3:00 A.M.

Terry

THE FIRST thing that went through Terry’s head when his cell phone buzzed at three in the morning was Oh God, it’s Dad’s heart again! But the voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t his sister. It was a young man—a teenager, by the sound of it.

Hey. A quiet cough and then, Hi. Is… this the gay men’s group?

It was and it wasn’t. Terry hadn’t given out his personal cell number in connection with the group since he stopped printing up flyers over three years ago. All the regulars had it, of course. But they knew better than to give it out. If they wanted to introduce someone new to the group, they’d just bring him.

How did you get this number? Terry asked, sounding a bit more curt than he’d intended. But part of him suspected this was a prank—a teenager finding one of the flyers and calling to see if the fags were still holding their meetings, his friends snickering in the background….

I’ve had it for a while. The voice sounded distant. Not like a bad phone connection, but just… far away. I guess I shouldn’t have called.

Something in the young man’s voice disturbed Terry. The kid sounded so… lost. Maybe it wasn’t a prank, after all.

No, wait! he said quickly, before the boy could hang up. This is the gay men’s group. But do you know what time it is?

I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just… it’s so quiet and cold here. I wanted to hear another voice.

Jack came out of the bedroom. The moonlight coming through the living room window softly illuminated his beautifully sculpted naked body as he crossed the floor to Terry’s side. Who is it? he whispered, concerned. Is it your dad?

Terry shook his head. He put his hand over the receiver. I think it’s one of my students.

That wasn’t such a far-fetched conclusion to jump to. Terry didn’t recognize the voice, but Crystal Falls Regional had fewer than a hundred students, all told. Chances were good this kid had been in Terry’s music classes at least one semester.

He wasn’t surprised to see Jack’s eyes go wide. Terry wasn’t exactly out at the high school where he taught. Gay rights might have come a long way in the past decade, but that didn’t mean the school board would look kindly on a gay teacher. Did the kid know who he was talking to? Terry hoped not.

But he was less worried about that at the moment than the sound of desperation in the boy’s voice. Look, don’t worry about it. You needed someone to talk to. I understand.

No, Jack whispered, and Terry could practically see his lawyer hackles rising. You tell him to talk to his parents or the school guidance counselor. Then you hang up.

The guidance counselor? The same guy Terry had heard laughing about Eric Jacobs being a fag?

I had sex with another guy. A bunch of times.

Okay, Terry said carefully, ignoring Jack. Was it something you both consented to?

The boy laughed bitterly. Why would that matter?

Oh God. Not a rape. Or molestation. Jack was right; Terry wasn’t trained to deal with shit like that. Look, son. Maybe you should—

I mean, yeah, we both wanted it, but he’s not saved. I’m the one who knows the Bible better than… well, practically anybody. I should have been the one to save him. Instead, I brought him down even more.

Christ. The kid was a Bible-thumper. Terry really wasn’t prepared to deal with that. He’d turned his back on religion decades ago. He could barely remember anything he’d read in the Bible, apart from the passages he was always hearing the religious right spout off. And he couldn’t claim to know those well, either.

I’m not really a religious man myself, he said, floundering. It’s never made sense to me that God would have a problem with two—he almost said consenting adults—people doing something together they both enjoy, and that really doesn’t affect anybody else.

What are you telling this kid? Jack hissed at him. If his parents have told him that homosexuality is wrong, and they find out you’re telling him it’s okay, that’s corrupting a minor!

Terry waved his hand at him to be quiet. The boy was at some kind of crisis point, and Terry couldn’t just turn away.

It’s against the way we were designed. And God hates imperfection. It sickens Him. If Christ hadn’t intervened, the Lord would have cast the lot of us into hell two thousand years ago and started over.

Terry restrained a groan while Jack paced back and forth behind him, muttering darkly about Maine state law concerning sex offenders. Just like he almost did with Noah and the ark too.

Yes.

See, I don’t get that. What’s so wrong with imperfection?

I don’t know. I always thought it made people more interesting, myself.

Exactly!

But it isn’t for us to question the Lord.

Well…. Just keep him talking. Was the kid depressed enough about all this to do himself harm? Kill himself? Terry desperately wished he’d had some kind of intervention training. Look… maybe we could talk better in person. Can you tell me where you are?

At the edge of the abyss.

Terry laughed, trying to sound casual. I know the feeling. Especially since I moved to Crystal Falls. Maybe the boy would feel safer meeting somewhere public, where he could get help if the older man on the phone turned out to be creepy. Maybe we could meet at the truck stop diner? It’s open all night.

No! Jack’s eyes went wide with alarm. He reached for the phone, but Terry twisted away from him.

It’s too late. I gave up trying to fight it a long time ago—I know I’m not strong enough. But every time I give in, I drift farther away from the Lord. I have to do something to stop that. The boy sounded apologetic. I really shouldn’t have bothered you. I guess I was just being selfish, hoping for a little sympathy.

"I do sympathize! Of course I do."

A soft laugh. Thanks. I’ll let you go now.

No, you don’t have to hang up!

Bye.

Terry made one last desperate attempt. Can you tell me your name?

My name is ‘God Is My Judge.’

Then the line went quiet.

Well, that was melodramatic, Terry thought. But his hand was shaking as he stared at the phone. He brought up the list of recent calls, hoping he could dial the number back. It was blocked.

You don’t ever arrange to meet up somewhere with a minor! Jack snarled at him, snatching the phone out of his hand. "Especially to talk about sex! Do you want to spend the next five years in prison?"

But Terry could barely hear him. All he could think about was that he’d failed. He didn’t know what he could have said or done differently, but that didn’t matter. Somewhere in town, at that very moment, something terrible might be happening. And he’d just lost any chance he had of preventing it.

SUNDAY, 6:00 A.M.

Jonah

JONAH WOKE to the sound of his mother screaming. He jumped out of bed, grabbed his robe, and nearly collided with his mother’s twenty-six-year-old boyfriend in the narrow hall outside his bedroom door.

Christ! Bill snarled, though Jonah couldn’t tell if it was aimed at him or at his mother. The man rubbed his eyes, growling like a bear awoken from hibernation. What the fuck is all the racket about?

Bill was naked, though perhaps too groggy to care. He staggered down the hall ahead of Jonah and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. The boy had to stretch his six-foot-two frame to see over the man’s freckled shoulder.

Shirley Riverside stood against the wall near the fridge, her gaze fixed on the floor, her mouth trying to say something. But no sound was coming out. Jonah had never seen her so frightened.

Pressing up against Bill’s back—but not too close—he was able to see his mother had walked through a puddle of something in the early morning half-light. Her bare feet had left a trail of dark prints on the worn linoleum. Her hand was still on the light switch beside her. Apparently, she’d turned it on to see what she’d stepped in.

It was blood.

Somehow a large puddle had formed in the center of the floor. Jonah saw something small drop into the pool, causing ripples to spread on its surface. He looked up. Blood was seeping through the suspended ceiling, spreading along the seams between the tiles and collecting at the corners to drip down.

Jesus H. Christ, Bill muttered, and it was an indication of how frightened Shirley was that she didn’t rip him a new one for taking the Lord’s name in vain. Never mind running around bare-assed in front of her son. Call 9-1-1, Bill ordered. Then, when she didn’t appear to hear him, he added impatiently, Can you do that?

Shirley was staring at her bare feet, as if she wanted nothing more than to get the blood off them, but she nodded mutely.

Jonah had to flatten himself against the wall to let Bill get past him. The man turned on his way to the bedroom and pointed back at him. You’re going upstairs with me to check it out, soon as I get some pants on.

Okay.

Jonah was disgusted with himself for letting his eyes linger on Bill’s tight ass as the man turned to enter the bedroom. Jesus, forgive me for lusting after my mom’s boyfriend. But Bill wasn’t all that much older than him, and hours of putting up sheetrock had made him lean and muscular.

A few moments later, Shirley was sobbing into the phone, pawing desperately at the soles of her bare feet with a wet paper towel. Her hand was covered in blood.

Bill emerged from the bedroom in ripped jeans, still shirtless and barefoot. Jonah followed him out of the apartment and through the beauty salon his mother owned in the front of the building. Bill grabbed the key ring hanging on a nail just inside the door and stepped outside.

On the side of the building, a staircase led up to the second floor, built of unfinished wooden boards the sun and rain had bleached over the years.

The sun wasn’t up yet, and the sky was slate gray, the air sharp. Jonah hadn’t thought to grab slippers, and the damp, red maple leaves on the steps felt icy cold on the bottom of his feet.

He followed Bill up the stairs and through the locked door at the top. They didn’t bother turning on the light switch. The pale light coming in through the dusty windows was enough to see by.

The entire second floor was one large room, and it had been rented from Shirley for the past nine years by the Assembly of Christ church. The décor was spartan: a beat-up old piano, a folding card table in the back for coffee and cookies, an old bookcase for Bibles and hymnals, and a simple podium at the head of the room where the reverend stood. Behind the podium was a large acrylic painting of Jesus, its edges yellowed and curled with age. Jonah no longer remembered just how long it had been there or who painted it. There had been talk of building actual pews, but no one had gotten around to that yet, so most of the space was taken up by the same metal folding chairs that had been there nine years earlier.

What caught Jonah’s attention right then was the young man lying on the bare wooden floor between the chairs and the podium. He was stark naked and lying in a huge pool of blood. Most of the blood was on his crotch and on the floor near his waist, as if he’d cut his wrists while they were in his lap, then lain or fallen back, spreading his arms out as he did to spray the blood in sweeping arcs at his sides. The pattern made by the spray resembled crimson wings, and to Jonah he looked like an angel, fallen to the ground and shattered. He certainly had a face like an angel—sandy blond curls and delicate features like something carved by Michelangelo.

His name was Daniel. He was the reverend’s son and one of the most popular kids in school. Jonah knew him through the school choir but mostly through the church. He couldn’t really say they’d been friends, though he’d always thought Daniel was cool and amazingly attractive. That last part was the problem. Whenever he’d looked at Daniel, the stirrings in his groin drove all thoughts of Christian fellowship from his mind. It was bad enough he was feeling these… urges toward other boys in school. But the reverend’s son? That was just sick.

Now, for the first—and last—time, he was seeing Daniel naked. If it hadn’t been for all the blood, he would have been beautiful. As it was, Jonah’s dick didn’t seem to be aware of the fact he was looking at a dead body, and it started to stiffen, which disturbed him. He forced himself to look away.

Bill was squatting by the boy’s head, bare feet standing directly on some of the bloody marks on the floor, as he pressed his fingers to Daniel’s throat. Pretty sure he’s dead.

No shit. Jonah had thought that was obvious. And wasn’t there some law about messing with a crime scene? Suicide was still a crime, wasn’t it?

It certainly looked like a suicide. The razor lay on the floor right next to Daniel’s hip—one of those old-fashioned straightedge kind that nobody ever used anymore. Although Jonah figured somebody had to use them, or they wouldn’t still sell them. But what the hell had the pharmacist been thinking? Well, would you look at that! I haven’t seen a teenager buy one of those blades since Kennedy was assassinated. You want shaving cream with that? No? Well, suit yourself.

Fucking idiot.

He followed Bill back outside and down the steps to find his mother standing at the bottom. She’d thrown her pink winter jacket on over her nightgown and covered her curlers with a scarf. She must have washed her feet, because she was wearing her slippers.

What is it? she asked anxiously.

The Thompson kid. Killed himself.

Oh Lord!

The idiot took all his clothes off, then cut his wrists. It’s a fuckin’ mess up there. Go see for yourself.

Bill Kendall, Shirley replied sternly, if that poor boy’s dead, I have no intention of going up there to gawk at him! You show some respect. She didn’t mention the swearing specifically. Before she’d found Jesus six years ago, Shirley Riverside had had a mouth like a sailor. Jonah knew she didn’t like the fact that her son and boyfriend still swore too much, but he figured she knew to pick her battles.

Bill snorted. He didn’t show me much respect, did he? I’m the one who’s gonna have to clean that shit up, sand that mess out of the floorboards, and put up new ceiling tile in the kitchen.

"You stop that kind of talk, right this instant. Somebody’s died!"

Surprisingly, Bill did shut up. He even had the good grace to look embarrassed. You gonna call his father?

Jonah’s mother hesitated before saying, The sheriff is on the way. I’m sure he’ll call the reverend. She shook her head. The poor man. This is going to destroy him.

Before Jonah realized what was happening, his mother had grabbed his hand and one of Bill’s. Link hands, you two. Let’s pray for that poor boy’s soul, and for his father.

Bill rolled his eyes but lowered his head. Jonah took the man’s callused hand and closed his own eyes as his mother began to pray fervently in the odd, choked voice she reserved for passionate prayer. Jonah tried to put the strength of his own prayer behind it,

Reviews for By That Sin Fell the Angels

[macyj_8 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Hmm...there is just so much to say yet I am not sure if I can really express it. This book was just a tad bit different than I had originally thought but I have to say I was definitely drawn to the story. I tried many times to put it down but I couldn't.

It is emotional and at times a little hard to read. I found myself feeling everything as I read it. Sadness, happiness, rage and disgust. There were parts that were funny and there were parts where I felt the tears building up.

A phone call at 3 am and the suicide of the preacher's seventeen year old son irrevocably change the lives of an entire town.

***********(This May Possibly Contain Spoiler's)**********************

Terry Bachelder the high school music teacher runs a gay men's support group in his small town where it is not widely known that he is gay, especially to those at the school. He knows what can happen if people in town find out he's gay and has been teaching their kids. The last thing he wants is to lose his job that he loves because of the narrow-minded members of his community.

Daniel Thompson is the seventeen year old son of Reverand Isaac Thompson. He knows the bible inside and out and has a strong belief in God. He knows he is Gay and has come to accept it but he also is very unhappy and can't go on any longer the way he is.

Daniel calls the number of the support group that he got off of a flier to tell Terry that it's all too much. Without giving anything away about who he is (although he leaves a small clue about his name) or his plan, he hangs up leaving Terry to ponder who had called him and whether or not he could have helped him more.

The next day he finds out it was Daniel and that he killed himself in his father's church. He is racked with guilt that he wasn't able to do anything and wonders what will happen if anyone finds out he spoke with the boy before his death. He soon finds out and his worst fears come true as the schoolboard, parents and church set out to crucify him.

Jonah Riverside was in Daniel's class, went to church with him, sang with him in the choir and admired him from afar. He and his mother's boyfriend discovered Daniel's body and now he can't get it out of his mind. He doesn't want anyone to know he is gay but he needs to talk to someone and he doesn't know where to turn. His only options seem to be the only openly gay kid at school Eric Jacobs and his favorite teacher Mr. B.

Eric is the only kid at school comfortable enough to live out and proud but he is also tormented by everyone. He has no friends and is constantly being targeted by the school's homophobic students. No one knows that he and Daniel had secretly been seeing each other. No one knows the pain he is in now that Daniel is gone.

As Terry goes through a police investigation, the possibility of losing the job he loves and having to deal with the town hating him for being gay he realizes things in this town need to change.

Jonah has to go through the emotional turmoil of being gay and too afraid of the consequences of admitting it along with building a friendship with Eric the school pariah.

Eric has in his possession something that can help clear Mr. B's name and convince everyone that he didn't have an inappropriate relationship with Daniel. Unfortunately what clears Terry in turn causes the entire town to hate Eric even more and has the potential to ruin his life as well as others.

This book deals with it all: suicide, religion, drugs, sexuality, bullying and even murder. It also deals with love, forgiveness and redemption.