James Frey - The Final Testament of the Holy Bible

If you say so.

Jacob moved towards Jeremiah, who was still sitting. And you. I pulled you out of a den of sin, out of the depths of Hell, from the grips of queers and sinners. I saved you. Brought you into the loving arms of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

The closer he got the angrier he looked. His jaw was clenched and his veins in his neck were bulging. How dare you faggots? Disgusting perverted freaks. He rushed Jeremiah, hit him like a football player. He knocked him straight back over his chair and started choking him and slamming his head against the floor. Esther and Mrs. Avrohom started screaming. Caleb and I stayed where we were. We knew there was no stopping Jacob when he got something in his head. And for a second I thought Jeremiah was a dead man. That Jacob was going to kill him. Then Ben grabbed the back of Jacob’s shirt and pulled him off. He dragged him a few feet back and pushed him down. Jeremiah was bleeding and had choke marks on his neck and stayed on the ground. Jacob got up and started after him. Ben pushed him back. Jacob screamed at him.

Do not touch me.

Ben looked at him, very calm.

Do not touch him.

I’ll do whatever I want to him.

No.

Jacob went after him again, and Ben pushed him back.

You want to hurt someone, hurt me. He’s walking out of here to live the life he was born to live.

Jacob pushed Ben. Jacob was breathing heavy, raging. He’s going to die of AIDS and burn in Hell. You both will.

Love’s going to kill us?

Jeremiah was up, crying, bleeding, breathing heavy. Esther and Mrs. Avrohom were tending to him. I looked to Caleb and back to Ben and Jacob, as if we should do something. Caleb shook his head. Jacob took a step towards Ben. God’s gift to you and the rest of your kind will kill you. He pushed him. Ben just smiled.

You can’t hurt me, Jacob. No matter what you do.

Jacob pushed him harder. Jeremiah was on his feet, still crying. Esther and Mrs. Avrohom were moving him away. Ben spoke again.

You’ve always hated me. This is your chance. Let Jeremiah walk out and I won’t resist. Take out what you feel about him on me. Unleash your mighty God’s wrath.

Jacob pushed him harder. Ben glanced back, saw Jeremiah being led from the room. He looked back at Jacob, smiled. Jacob pushed him again.

That’s it?

He did it again, and harder.

That’s not much from a powerful man of God.

And again, harder.

Seems more like a faggot’s push. You sure you aren’t…

And Jacob attacked again. He threw Ben on the ground and climbed on top of him and started punching him in the face and on the head and on his body. Ben did not resist at all. From what I could see, he almost looked like he was smiling. Jacob was screaming faggot at the top of his lungs, and just kept hitting him. Caleb and I both stood, knowing we’d have to stop Jacob at some point or Ben would die. We came around the table and Ben was clearly out. His body was limp and his face was covered in blood. It was also all over Jacob and all over the floor. And Jacob kept hitting him. Brothers and sisters, a man can only allow so much. A man can only watch so much. Whatever Jacob was doing wasn’t about God anymore. I didn’t understand or endorse gay behavior. Frankly, I found it sickening and wrong. But Jacob was killing his brother over a kiss. And kissing, and loving, whatever kind it may be, is not something the Holy Father would condemn someone to death for doing. At this point in my life, I believe-actually, brothers and sisters, I know-that God believes love, even between men and men, and women and women, is still love. And it is something beautiful, the most beautiful thing there is in this world. Let more of it exist. In every form. I say hallelujah. So we pulled Jacob off of him. His hands and face and shirt were dripping. He was still screaming, and we were struggling with him. He was yelling he deserves to die, I am God’s soldier, he deserves to die. We took him out of the room and to his bedroom and convinced him that the best thing for us to do was pray to the Lord above for guidance and strength. I knew Ben was going to be needing a doctor. So I left the room to use the telephone. Caleb and Jacob were on their knees, holding hands, praying. The phone was in the kitchen, and I had to walk through the dining room to get there. I was going to check on Ben, make sure he was still breathing. When I came into the dining room, it was empty. There was a silhouette on the floor. And where the feet would have been, there was the ankle bracelet. I picked it up and it was still functioning. Wasn’t broken and hadn’t been cut. It was supposed to be impossible to remove it. But it was removed, brothers and sisters, it was lying there on the floor. I started to go back towards the other rooms to see if Ben had gone into one of them. As I did, I glanced at the table. And brothers and sisters, I am telling you, brothers and sisters, I am telling you because I saw it with my own two eyes, every glass on the table, glasses that had been filled with water a minute before, were filled with wine. They were filled to the top, and they were filled with deep red wine.

I was at home. Mercedes was watching TV. I’d just got back from the hospital, where my momma was dying. Alberto was in Rikers for killing some motherfucker. I heard a knock on the door. Figured it was the cops or some bitch from child services. Either way it’d be the same thing, some white person making threats on me and my baby, some white person saying they had the authority to tell me how to live my life and raise my girl. Like they could do better. With all their power and government money. Look what they done to the world. They couldn’t do no better.

I opened the door. Ben was standing right there. Or some fucked-up version of Ben. I hadn’t been seeing him for over a year. When he left we was wondering what happened. One day he was there being drunk and playing his video games, coming in to the club all fucked up, the next day he was gone. We didn’t know where he went to. Figured he got tired of living with black folks and took off. It happens. People get tired of living with people that ain’t like them and they go back to their own. And sometimes it’s best. Sometimes I be thinking black folk and white folk ain’t meant to be together. And you can give all the motherfucking speeches you want, it ain’t gonna change.

He smiled at me. Said hello. Some of his teeth was broken and he had blood all over him. His face was all cut and swollen, his eyes turning purple all around them. And underneath the blood and swelling, I could see there was scars everywhere, like he’d been in a knife fight with twenty men. And his clothes was nasty, something I didn’t even see ’round here with people who can’t afford clothes. He reached up and put his hand on my cheek and said it’s nice to see you, Mariaangeles . I had men’s hands on me all the fucking time. Men grabbing my ass, my titties. Men trying to put their fingers everywhere inside of me. Never had a man put his hand on me like that. Just being gentle. Just being kind. Most men looking for some pussy and someone to take care of them, cook their meals and do their laundry. That’s what they think love mean. Ben just touch my cheek and say it’s nice to see you, Mariaangeles . Nicest thing any man had ever done for me.

I was wondering what he was doing. His apartment wasn’t his apartment no more. After he left it stayed empty for a few months. My brother broke in and stole the TV and the video games and all the beer in the fridge. Said he’d give it back if Ben came ’round again and ended up selling it all to buy a gun. After a while white people with clipboards and phones on their belts came ’round and opened it up. Some old man moved in and died like two months later. Went to sleep and didn’t never get back up. Then some family moved in. Woman and six kids and her husband, who didn’t do nothing but yell and beat the shit outta all of ’em and blame all his own shit on the Jews. He got arrested for something, don’t even fucking matter what, ’cause he just another brother in the pen, and the woman and them kids went back to Puerto Rico, where they from. Now there was some girl like me. Eighteen and three kids with three different daddies, none of them giving a shit. Didn’t think she’d want him coming in there, and she could have pro’ly whooped his ass, specially looking like he was looking. I was thinking what to do when he smiled and spoke.