Chapter Text
The ramp up to sectionals was crazy. Mr. Schuester invited the competition to come and perform at McKinley, and the glee club recorded a commercial for a local mattress store. Despite Mr. Schuester being disqualified and the competition somehow deciding to do every single song that New Directions had planned, they were still able to pull it out and win, thank to Finn stepping up.
Despite Kurt’s best efforts, Finn was still interested in Rachel, not him. Kurt had had the brilliant idea of dressing Rachel up like Cat Woman, à la Sandy from Grease, knowing full well that Finn preferred a more wholesome look for his girlfriends. Rachel almost figured out why he did it, but she was so upset when he threw out, “I just wanted to remind him that his girlfriend is pregnant and he has a moral obligation to take care of her, not you!” that she let go of the idea that he might be gay. Sometimes, being known as a pastor’s kid came in handy.
Kurt’s proudest moment came not when they handed the trophy to New Directions, but when he looked out into the audience, seeing his father standing and cheering just as hard as he had when Kurt kicked the winning point at the football game.
After the competition, the club decided to go out to eat to celebrate. Finn was there with his mom, even though he stayed away from the majority of the group. Kurt’s dad came for a little while, but left early to make final preparations for his sermon for the next morning. After he said goodbye to his dad, Kurt approached Finn’s table.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Kurt, have you met my mom? Mom, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is my mom, Carole.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Hudson.”
“Kurt, nice to meet you. Please, call me Carole.”
Kurt looked over at Finn. “Thanks for coming in to save the day, today. We were all freaking out until you got there.”
Finn smiled sweetly. “It was no problem, man. I’m glad things worked out.”
“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. . . Carole.”
Carole smiled brightly. “Nice to meet you, too, Kurt.”
Such a simple interchange. A quick thank you. Kurt couldn’t get it out of his head. When Finn smiled at him, it had warmed Kurt from deep inside his gut. Finn’s mom was so kind. She was a single parent raising a son, just like his dad. Kurt’s brain started turning.
Parent-teacher conference night was the following week. Kurt went with his dad to help him find his way to all of Kurt’s teachers, and was pleasantly surprised to see Carole Hudson walk through the door.
“Dad! Come here. There is someone I want you to meet!” Kurt grabbed his dad’s arm and dragged him towards Mrs. Hudson. “Burt Hummel? This is Carole Hudson. You both have dead spouses. You should talk.”
It didn’t take long for Burt and Carole to become fast friends, then to start dating and finally to begin discussing a more permanent relationship. Finn practically blew a gasket when he realized that Kurt had introduced their parents without talking to him first, but it was even worse when they started talking about marriage. Finn and Kurt went downstairs to Kurt’s room while their parents were cooking Friday Night Dinner.
“Shouldn’t we at least try living in the same house before they get married? What the hell?”
Kurt scoffed. “Seriously, Finn? My dad’s a Baptist pastor. He’s not going to live with his girlfriend without marrying her.”
“Whoa, dude. He’s a pastor? How did I not know that?”
Kurt glared at Finn. “Perhaps because you don’t pay the slightest bit of attention to anything that doesn’t involve you?”
“That’s totally not fair. I thought my girlfriend was pregnant with my baby. My best friend turned out to have knocked her up. Despite all that I still showed up and saved your asses at sectionals.”
Kurt replied, “Well, yes, you did have a bit going on in your world. I suppose a little self-centeredness would be expected in your situation.”
“Whatever, dude. I can’t believe my mom is going to be a pastor’s wife. That’s so weird. Where am I even going to sleep?”
“There really aren’t a lot of options in our house. Pretty much your choices are the living room couch or my bedroom. We can easily put –“
“NO WAY. I can’t sleep in the same room as you! Are you nuts? Look at this place! You’re totally going to be staring at me all the time. This is crazy.”
Finn stormed up the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Mom, we need to talk!”
After Finn declared that he couldn’t sleep in that “faggy room”, Carole quickly grabbed him and made an exit, yelling at him the whole way out the front door. “Finn Christopher Hudson, how dare you use that word? Haven’t I taught you better than that?”
Kurt stood in the doorway to his bedroom, looking stunned, as the whole scene went down. His father looked absolutely gutted as he watched his girlfriend and her son storm out of the house.
Burt looked over at Kurt and said, “Well, that could have gone better.”
Kurt snorted, turned and went back down into his room and shut the door.
A bit later that evening, Burt knocked on Kurt’s door. “Can I come in, bud?”
Kurt sat up from where he was trying to read his English assignment, hoping that he wouldn’t have to have this conversation. He certainly didn’t want to discuss why Finn called him faggy, but it looked like he had no choice. “Yeah, dad. Come on in.”
“Well, so much for a family dinner, huh?”
Kurt snorted. “So much for your new family?”
Burt looked wounded. “My new family?”
“Well, I’m not asking for one.”
Burt sat down on Kurt’s bed. “C’mon, bud. You introduced us. You set us up. What’s all this now?”
Kurt stood up and moved across the room with his back to his father. “I don’t know. I didn’t realize you were going to go from introductions to marriage in under two months, Dad.”
“When you know, Kurt, you just know. It was six months with your mom. It’s been two with Carole. I don’t know how to describe it to you.”
Kurt whirled around. “How about I really want to get laid, Kurt, but the bible says I can’t so I need to marry her?”
“Hey, that’s uncalled for,” Burt bellowed.
“I call it like I see it, Dad,” Kurt retorted.
“What is your deal lately? What happened to my little angel boy, Kurt?”
“I grew up, Dad. I learned a few things about the way the world works.” Kurt stomped up the stairs, grabbed his car keys, and took off.
Once again, Burt Hummel found himself on his knees, praying for guidance from his Lord.
*********
Despite the tumult of their family dinner attempt, Burt and Carole continued to date, but talks of a whirlwind marriage went by the wayside. Finn avoided Kurt at school as much as possible, if only because he was afraid Kurt might pull out a swatch board and ask him about color schemes for their room, or start serenading him in public.
Their next attempt at a family dinner was at Breadsticks, and Burt made some attempts to get to know Finn a little better. It wasn’t long before sharing football stories and offers of tickets made Finn open up and smile. Kurt, however, began to realize just how much Finn was like the boy he could never be.
The conversation in his bedroom that night went even worse than the last one, but this time it was Burt walking away after Kurt asked him to leave. The next afternoon at school, Kurt found Finn in the hallway and they made a pact to break up their parents, once and for all.
A few days after that, Kurt waited outside the side door of Finn and Carole’s house, watching his dad talk to Finn and profess his undying love for Carole, calling her an angel from God to wake him up and make his life better, and promising to take care of her and be her hero. Finn, the traitor, invited Burt to sit in his dad’s chair and watch a game. Defeated and in tears, Kurt turned and went home, alone.
He sat in his room, reflecting on the week. “A little guy talk . . . I am a guy. Mom’s been dead eight years, but he still doesn’t know me at all. ‘I thought you said you wanted me to be happy’ . . .Well that was before I knew you being happy would rip out my heart and stomp all over it. You love her? She’s an angel? What about Mom, Dad? What about me? We were your angels.”
Kurt punched his pillow, rolled over, and cried himself to sleep.
**********
Kurt was astounded when his Dad caught his attention in the school hallway not even a week later. “Hey, Kurt!”
“Dad? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“I’m here to pick up Finn. A member of the congregation scored me a couple tickets to the Reds game and Carole told me Finn’s never been to a major league game.”
“Why wasn’t I invited?” Kurt wondered out loud.
Burt laughed in his face. “Are you kidding me? You hate baseball. Every time I sit down to watch a game you complain about their uniforms.”
Kurt was stunned. The next thing he knew, Finn was waving at Burt from the crowd, his dad was saying he’d be home at midnight, and he was left alone, again.
The assignment in glee club that week was to find a song that represented his voice. Kurt selected one of his dad’s favorites in an attempt to try and connect with him. He chose clothes like Finn’s, a hat like his dad’s and consciously tried to speak in a lower voice in an attempt to be more of a man’s man. After he finished performing his song, Brittany approached him and offered to let him “tap this” since he wasn’t “capital G gay” like she thought.
Well, that would be one way to make his dad forget the word faggy. He invited her over to their house after school and brought her down to his bedroom in the basement, leaving a sign on the door for his dad. He lit candles around the room and turned on some French music, attempting to make the scene as romantic as possible, even if romance with Brittany didn’t seem at all possible to him. They snuggled in on his couch, her legs tucked under his, him on his back, her next to him, leaning over the top of his chest. She dove right in and started kissing him.
Kurt tried desperately to get her to keep her hands to herself while trying not to imagine he was kissing a boy. Instead, her hands kept wandering down his hips towards his ass and he kept getting distracted by her lip gloss, which tasted like root beer. Eventually, he couldn’t help himself and he asked her “What do boys lips taste like?”
When his dad got home, the sign on Kurt’s door didn’t keep him out. Instead, his dad barged into his room asking questions.
Kurt interrupted him. “Uh, Dad, I really need you to respect my privacy right now. Brittany and I were just about to have sexual relations.”
Burt waved Kurt over to the other side of the room. “What the heck do you think you are doing? It is absolutely unacceptable for you to be having sex with a girl in my house. The Bible says it is to be reserved for the marriage bed only.”
Kurt responded, “Dad, you and I have more in common that I would have thought. The flannel, the Mellencamp, the ladies . . .”
Burt interrupted, “Be that as it may, whoever you think you are this week, you are not to have sex in this house.”
Kurt smiled. “I guess we can head over to her house then. Good bye.”
Kurt offered his hand to Brittany and they walked up the stairs, while his dad stared in stunned silence.
The next day, his dad showed up at school again. Kurt and Brittany were walking down the hall, hand-in-hand. Of course, he wasn’t there to see Kurt. He was there to take Finn out for hoagies.
“Can you excuse us a minute, Boo?” Kurt asked.
Brittany looked confused. “What?”
“Just go away.”
Kurt glared at his father. “Didn’t you think that might be something I might want to do with you?” The anger started bubbling up so fast Kurt could barely contain it.
“Look, Kurt. Finn really needs this right now. He really needs to talk about his dad with someone. It’s a really good thing for him.” Burt clapped him on the shoulder. “Look, I’ll hang out with you as much as you want, just not tonight.”
Kurt walked off, and found his way to the auditorium. He sat for a minute on the edge of the stage before tossing off the hat and vest he had so carefully chosen that morning. He stood up and imagined himself dressed in his usual style, with a blue button down, a gorgeous silk scarf wrapped around his neck, and tight plaid pants.
All that work and what did it get me,
I had a dream.
I dreamed it for you, Dad.
It wasn’t for me, Dad.
Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn?
Don’t I get a dream for myself?
Starting now it’s gonna be my turn,
This one’s for me!
Kurt had no idea his dad watched the entire performance until he started applauding in the dark auditorium.
“That was some serious singing, kid!”
“That was Rose’s Turn.”
Burt walked up the stairs onto the other side of the stage. “I could get into that, maybe.”
Kurt, still breathing heavily from his exertion on the stage, had to ask, “Dad, what are you doing here? What happened to the hoagies?”
“I blew it off, you know, too much cholesterol.”
Kurt pulled his face into a tight smile. “Finn must have been disappointed.””
“He understood, once I told him how bent out of shape you were about it.”
“Me?” Kurt took a deep breath and shimmied his shoulders. “I’m fine.”
“Kurt, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid. I might have some idea what that song was about, but I know this for sure, fine does not sing like you just sang that.”
Kurt held in a sob while his dad took a step closer, hands opened out and down to his sides.
“I know that you’re upset about me doing stuff with Finn, but I think there’s more to it than that.”
Kurt stared at him in silence.
“Look, Kurt, when you were a baby, I dreamed about taking you to games and talking to you about girls. Of course I did. A lot of fathers do.”
Kurt snapped, “I had no idea how disappointing I was,” as he whirled around to storm away from his father once again.
“Hey now, stop it right now. I’m talking straight to you. Don’t go playing the victim.”
Kurt turned back, an angry glare in his eyes with tears streaming down his face. “Straight? You’re talking straight to me, Dad? The hell with you. I’m not straight, Dad. I’m gay. I’m an abomination. Go find your new son, your better son, your normal son, your easy son. I’ll be moved out when you get home.”
Burt stood there with a stunned look on his face, watching as Kurt turned his back to him and sobbed. He stepped closer, raised his hands as if to put them around Kurt but then dropped them back to his sides. He said brokenly, “Kurt.”
Kurt whispered through his tears, “Goodbye, Dad.”
“No, Kurt. You listen to me.” Burt put his hands on Kurt’s shoulders from behind. “I’ve known you were gay since you were three years old. Your mom told me. She was so sure. She was so good with you.”
“You knew?” Kurt turned around slowly, his dad’s arms wrapping around him.
“Of course I knew. All you wanted for your birthday was a pair of sensible heels. You’ve been dancing ballet since you were two. Until that daffy cheerleader showed up, I’d never seen you take an interest in girls.”
Kurt huffed into his dad’s shoulder. “Brittany. I was trying so hard, Dad. I wanted to be what you wanted me to be.”
“Hey, you don’t ever have to change anything for me, Kurt. Your job is to be yourself,” Burt paused. “And my job is to love you, no matter what. That, and our salvation in Jesus Christ? That’s all we’ve got.”
The two men stood eye to eye in the darkened auditorium, tears streaming down their faces.
Burt continued, “If we stick together, kid, we’re gonna be great.”
Kurt sniffled. “I missed you, Daddy.”
“Come here.” Burt wrapped Kurt in a giant bear hug. “I love you. Forever and always. No matter what.”
Kurt began sobbing again. Through his tears, he said “I love you, too, Dad. I’m so sorry.”
“No need for sorrys, kid. Let’s move on.”
***************
Once his dad knew his biggest secret, Kurt no longer felt the need to hide at school, either. The first person he came out to officially was Mercedes. One day at lunch, he pulled her aside.
“Hey, Cedes. Can you come to the choir room with me? I’ve got something I want to try.”
“Sure, Kurt. Let me grab a tray and I’ll meet you there.”
A few short minutes later, and Kurt was sitting at the piano working on his scales when Mercedes came in. “What’s up, homeboy? What do want to play for me?”
“Um, actually, I don’t have a song to sing. I just need to tell you something.”
“Is everything okay, boo?”
“Well, I hope so. Can you sit down?”
Mercedes took a spot on the bench next to him. “You’re scaring me, Kurt! What’s wrong?”
Kurt stared down at the piano keyboard, tapping at an F sharp over and over. Mercedes grabbed his hands. “Kurt?”
Kurt took a deep breath and looked over at his best friend. “Mercedes, I need to tell you something. I know that it might change everything about our friendship, but I can’t hide it anymore.” Kurt closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her face when he told her. “I’m gay.”
Mercedes stilled completely next to him. He looked over at her and saw tears filling her eyes. His heart fell. “I’m sorry, Cedes. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was too scared. I get it, though, if you can’t be my friend anymore.”
“WHAT?” Mercedes shrieked. “You think you can get rid of me that easy, you’ve got another thing coming, Kurt.”
Kurt looked up sharply. “Really?”
Mercedes smiled through her tears. “Really. Besties for life.”
Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and grabbed Mercedes’s hand as they walked out into the school together, side by side.
The next person to find out was actually Rachel. Mercedes and Kurt were in his bedroom, looking at one of the vintage muscle magazines that April Rhodes had given him. He had stashed them under his mattress so his dad wouldn’t find them, but now that wouldn’t be as devastating, so he brought them out on occasion.
Kurt and Mercedes hadn’t heard the doorbell, but Burt let Rachel in and told her where to find them. As she walked down the stairs into Kurt’s room, she overheard him saying, “Now this one’s more my type, see? He’s more compact, trimmer waist. Not as muscley. I like the thinner ones, not so bulky.”
Rachel stopped short and squealed, “Kurt Hummel, are you looking at porn?”
Kurt jumped up. “No! Not really! Just, keep it down, Rachel, will you?”
The three of them curled up on the couch, one girl on either side of Kurt, and he held the magazine on his lap while they dished on the fake tans, debated the benefits of muscles versus muscle tone, and generally drooled over the men in the magazines. “Too bad they’re all wearing clothes, though,” said Rachel. “It might be nice to see what this one has under his loincloth.”
Kurt blushed to the roots of his hair. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Rachel.”
Once Rachel knew, it wasn’t long before the whole glee club knew, and as rumors do, the news traveled fast around the school. Once the jocks had it confirmed that Kurt was not just gay, but out and proud, the bullying stepped up immensely. Kurt couldn’t walk down the hall at school without being slammed into a locker at least once, usually more than once. Sometimes he even ended up on the floor because they’d knock him off his feet.
He started going through four or five outfits a day because of all the slushies being thrown his way.
The bullying wasn’t only at school, either. He heard it at the coffee shop, the mall, the music store, and most especially, he heard it at church. Once the members of his dad’s congregation found out that he was out of the closet and officially gay, his dad was fielding phone calls from the adults, offering suggestions for camps and therapists to send him to that might “cure him”, while their children were taunting him at every opportunity.
Some of them were genuinely trying to convince him that he was living a life of sin because they were concerned for his eternal soul. Those that were genuinely loving were no less annoying or hurtful than those that just wanted to put him in his place, though. The worst of them all were the guys who had never been friendly, never cared, and continually bullied Kurt since he was a small boy dancing in the sanctuary. They had simply found a new reason to torture him.
Kurt would leave church on Wednesday nights with marks all over his clothing from pencils that had been shoved into his back, arms and legs. He found vaguely threatening notes tucked in the pocket of his Bible case, usually stating the author would send him to hell themselves. Kurt spent the rest of that school year longing for the freedom of summer break and cabin season.
The church youth group essentially shut down for the summer because so many people took off for the weekends. Three solid months between Memorial Day and Labor Day when no one would bother him, no one would notice him in the back row, reading his books, ear buds tucked under his hats so he could listen to show tunes instead of hymns.
Inevitably, the school year started up again, and the bullying became even worse. Burt was still seeing Carole, and Finn and Kurt had worked out an amicable truce after Finn defended the rest of the glee club, Kurt included, during Lady Gaga week when the football players cornered them in the locker banks. Finn and Carole had started attending Burt’s church with them on a regular basis, but it didn’t stop the rest of the jocks from tossing slushies at Kurt at school, or stabbing him with pencils and tormenting him relentlessly with words at church.
One week, Kurt had had enough. He needed a break from the constant torment.
Monday morning, his dad reminded him, “Don’t forget that Finn is coming to youth group on Wednesday night. Can you pick him up on your way?”
“I’m not going this week, Dad. Remember? It’s the Sing-Along Sound of Music at the Old Royal Theater. It’s a once a year event.”
“And I suppose next week it will be something else, right? Not okay, Kurt. You’re the pastor’s son. You need to show up unless you’re on your death bed.”
Kurt scoffed. “Right, Dad. It’ll just give them something else to gossip about. The harpies at church don’t give a crap about me, they just care that they have someone to pick on.”
“That’s not fair, Kurt. Those people love you, love us. Give them a chance.”
“Like they’ve always given me one? No way. I’m not going.” Kurt turned to walk out the door.
Burt said quietly, just loud enough to hear, “I gotta tell you Kurt, I’m real disappointed in you.”
Kurt just rolled his eyes and stalked out of the house, slamming the door in his wake.
Later that afternoon, Kurt was sitting in French class, insulting Azimio in perfect French that the jock had no hope of understanding with his Neanderthal brain. Kurt was very pleased with himself until he heard Mr. Schuester’s voice.
“Kurt? Can we talk to you outside?”
The ride to the hospital was the longest ten minutes of Kurt’s life, followed by the longest hour as they waited for the doctor to come out and give an update on his father’s condition. When the doctor finally arrived, Kurt couldn’t understand a thing he said. All he wanted was his daddy back, and all he could hear was “I don’t know”.
I don’t know if there was brain damage.
I don’t know when he’ll wake up.
I don’t know IF he will wake up.
His first glimpse of his dad in that hospital bed attached to all the wires was completely overwhelming. He needed to be alone with his dad.
“Dad, can you hear me? If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand. Please? Just squeeze my hand.”
Kurt sank down into the chair beside the bed, wishing that somehow he could believe that there was a God who cared about him, but knowing that it wasn’t going to happen. If there ever was a God, he’d walked away from Kurt Hummel the day his mother died. Now it was possible that his father would die as well, and Kurt had never felt so alone.
The next day at school, Finn approached Kurt in glee club, absolutely furious that Kurt hadn’t thought to tell him about Burt’s heart attack. For the first time since Mr. Schuester had entered the classroom the day before, words came easily.
“Well I’m sorry Finn. It didn’t occur to me to call you because he’s not your father.”
A few more minutes of Finn babbling and Kurt decided to move his bag and allow Finn to at least sit next to him. Finn tried to put his arm on Kurt’s shoulder, but Kurt would have none of it. Finn was not allowed to all of a sudden pretend to be his brother when he had barely cared before. Then the parade of well-wishers and concerned people started, including beautiful songs of faith that Kurt couldn’t get into at all. Mercedes sang like an angel, but Kurt just couldn’t make himself pretend anymore.
“Mercedes, thank you. Your voice is stunning but I don’t believe in God.”
Quinn and Tina gasped, and Tina asked, “Wait what? Isn’t your dad a pastor?”
Kurt huffed. “You’ve all professed your beliefs. Now I’m stating mine. When I was a kid, God was a comforting character in a story book, much like Santa Claus or Paul Bunyan. When my mom died, I realized that there really isn’t a perfect, all-knowing, all-loving being. If there were, why would he take such a perfect creature away?”
Kurt couldn’t look at anyone else in the room, but once he started talking, he just couldn’t stop. “I mean, He makes me gay, then has his followers going around telling me it’s something that I chose. As if someone would choose to be mocked every single day of their life.” Kurt’s eyes filled with tears. “And right now, I don’t want a heavenly father. I want my real one back.”
Mercedes attempted to step in, then Quinn got angry, and Kurt had had enough. He stood up and left the room with one parting statement.
“You all can believe whatever you want to, but I can’t believe something I don’t. I appreciate your thoughts, but I don’t want your prayers.”
Even after making his wishes clearly known, he showed up at the hospital to find Carole, Finn, Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes, and Pastor Jones singing hymns and praying around his father’s comatose form. Kurt waited outside respectfully until Rachel finished the song she was singing before he walked in.
“What’s going on in here?” Kurt tried desperately to push past his fatigue and grief and maintain a calm expression, when inside he was livid that his friends had gone against his expressed request.
Rachel turned away from where she had her hand on Burt’s head. “We’re just praying for your dad.”
Mercedes jumped in. “Rachel, Quinn and I are taking turns. We are all from different denominations and religions, but it shouldn’t matter, right dad?” She turned and looked at her father.
“Kurt, Mercedes told me about your change of heart, but I know your father. He is a man of God, and he would want us here right now,” said Pastor Jones. “I know you are angry and troubled, but please, think about your father’s wishes, too.”
“I didn’t ask you to do this,” snapped Kurt.
Carole reached out. “Honey, I know you’re upset about what’s happening, I get it. But, friends help out even when you don’t ask.”
At that moment, an acupuncturist came in dressed in a turban. “Mr. Kurt Hummel.”
“Whoa, dude! Why didn’t you just say you wanted to pray in Muslim?” Finn asked.
Kurt rolled his eyes as the woman retorted, “I’m not Muslim. I am Sikh.”
Kurt kicked everyone out of the room so the woman could start the procedure on his dad. “Amazingly, needles pierce the skin better than Psalms.”
The next day at glee club, Kurt stood in front of his friends to sing his own expression of love to his father. He stood near the piano and began speaking. “On the day of my mom’s funeral, when they were lowering my mom’s body into the ground, I was crying. I mean, that was the last time I was ever going to see her.” Kurt clasped his hands together in front of his body, gripping himself to try and gain the strength he needed to tell the story. “I remember I looked up at my dad and I just wanted him to say something, anything to make me feel like my whole world wasn’t over.
“And he just took my hand and squeezed it. Just knowing those hands were there to take care of me? That was enough. This is for my dad.”
He sang out clearly through his tears, allowing all the emotion of the week to pour out into his song. He allowed himself to remember all the moments of his life where he and his dad were happy together: the tea party on the lawn, learning to ride his bike, the proud smile on his dad’s face when Kurt sang in church or kicked a field goal or danced in a recital.
The rest of the glee club wept in silence as he finished the song and walked out.
He went straight to see his dad after rehearsal. This time when Kurt arrived at the hospital, there were several church members praying over his father. Kurt took a deep breath, steeling himself, and walked in. Three of the women looked up at him and smiled hesitantly, but the fourth turned to him and said, “This is all your fault, young man. You and your sinful choices have caused God to send a punishment to your family.”
Kurt gasped, but before he could formulate a response, one of the other women stepped forward and said, “Lucinda Brown, how dare you! God loves this young man just like he loves you and I. Get out of here with that attitude of judgment. Pastor certainly wouldn’t ever preach like that, and if he were able to, he’d be kicking you out himself.”
Mrs. Brown stalked out of the room, muttering to herself about false prophets and like-minded fools, while Kurt turned to his rescuer.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, Kurt. I’m so sorry she said that to you. She doesn’t have a clue about God if she thinks it’s okay to talk to one of his precious children like that.”
Kurt’s face twisted into a wry smile. If only you knew, he thought, If only you knew what “God’s People” are capable of.
That Friday, Kurt was walking through the day like a zombie, not wanting to think about a Friday Night dinner without his dad, and definitely not wanting to think it might be the first of many. Mercedes approached him in the hallway by his locker.
“Kurt, I know you’re going through a really scary time right now, but I feel like I don’t know how to be around you anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Kurt responded. “I know I shouldn’t be pushing my friends away right now, especially friends as fabulous as you.”
“Can I ask you one favor then?” Mercedes asked, looking up at him uncomfortably. “One thing? Come to church with me this Sunday?”
Kurt took a deep breath and was about to decline when Mercedes interrupted him. “Our church does this thing where we dedicate the service to someone, and I got them to dedicate this Sunday to your dad.”
“I don’t know,” Kurt replied, uneasily. “I can’t imagine the people at your church are going to be any more accepting of me than the people at my dad’s.”
“You get to wear a fabulous hat,” she wheedled.
Kurt broke into the first smile he’d worn since Mr. Schuester interrupted his French class. “Mercedes, you had me at fabulous hat.”
She chuckled. “Come on, let’s go to class.” She put her arm around him and they walked down the hall together, Kurt feeling just a tiny bit more hopeful than he had that morning.
The service at Mercedes’ church that Sunday was something very different than Kurt had ever experienced in his own church growing up. The thing with being a pastor’s kid was that Kurt never got to experience anything but his dad’s church. He had to sit still and listen and be perfect or expect hell from the members of the church. His dad preached in jeans and flannels most of the time, and the congregation dressed accordingly. There were no suits or Sunday best for the kids in his Sunday School, no one except Kurt.
Walking into Pastor Jones’ service, everyone was dressed in their finest suits and dresses. The ladies wore beautiful hats and bright printed dresses, and the men were all wearing ties. Another big change was that Mercedes was allowed to speak before she sang with the choir. In his dad’s church, women weren’t allowed to preach or speak to the church as a whole. His mom led the choir when she was alive, but he couldn’t ever remember seeing her pray in public or explain a song. It was always done by a man.
When Mercedes’ soothing tones washed over him and the congregation, it was like a balm to his soul. He was startled to see the congregation stand up and begin to clap along. He was even more astounded when the woman sitting next to him grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He felt cracks begin to form in the hard shell around his heart as memories flashed through his mind again, like the Friday Night dinner with the raw chicken.
That afternoon, he headed back over to the hospital. The Sikh acupuncturist would be coming back. He couldn’t help but tell his dad all about his Sunday morning experience.
He wrapped his dad’s hand in his own and began. “I’m sorry about the other day, Dad. I should have let those guys stay and pray for you. It wasn’t about me, it was about you and it was nice.” Tears began streaming down Kurt’s face as he confessed, “I don’t believe in God anymore, Dad, but I believe in you, and I believe in us. You and me. That’s what is sacred to me. And I am so sorry I never got to tell you that.” Kurt dropped his head down and allowed himself to weep openly.
He felt a small movement in his hand. “Dad?” He couldn’t believe what he was feeling and seeing. His dad’s hand was trying to hold his. He was going to be okay.
After Kurt’s dad was well enough to come home from the hospital, he and Kurt sat down and had a heart-to-heart about church. Kurt wasn’t sure if his dad had heard anything while he was in the coma, but as it turned out, he remembered enough.
“I know what you’re saying, Kurt, but I can’t believe that everything you knew as a child is just gone!” Burt tried to stand up and fell back to the couch.
“Dad, calm down. Your heart can’t take this kind of stress.” Kurt hovered around his dad, adjusting the pillows to make him more comfortable, hands in constant motion.
Burt sat up straighter. “This isn’t about me, son. This about you and your relationship with God.”
“That is a non-existent relationship, Dad. If there was ever a sign that there isn’t an all-loving being in the universe, being a gay teenager in Ohio certainly proves it.” Kurt sighed. “Nobody likes me. I have to sing a duet by myself in glee club this week.”
“Wait, what?”
“Never mind. Eat your soup. You had a serious arrhythmia, Dad. You need to take it easy until your stress test.”
“You’re my stress test.” Burt looked seriously disturbed. “We need to finish this conversation, though. What do you mean, nobody likes you?”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you? I am the only openly gay kid at school, in this town. No one wants to be friends with the gay kid. No one wants to ‘catch the gay’. Why can’t I walk down the hall hand-in-hand with the person that I like? Why can’t I slow dance at my prom?”
Burt anged his head and sat back on the pillows. “Come here.”
Kurt came and sat next to his father, perched on the edge of the couch.
“Do you think I don’t want those things for you? I do. But until you find somebody as open and as brave as you, you’re just going to have to get used to going it alone. I’m tired now, but we’re not done talking about this, Kurt. God loves you and He made you who you are for a reason.”
Kurt pondered his dad’s words all week. He reflected back to his mother and the Veggie Tales tagling they used to share: “God made you special and He loves you very much.” Even so, watching all the other glee kids performing their duets drove a stake into his heart. Feeling lonely wasn’t a new thing for Kurt. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t lonely in some way or another since his mother died. Performing Le Jazz Hot by himself was just an outward sign of his inner battle. It even got Rachel out of her self-centeredness for a few hours to offer him a duet at the end of the week. Her words echoed through his mind, “You might be lonely, but you aren’t alone.”
As Kurt went through the motions of caring for his dad, connecting with Carole and Finn, and maintaining grades at school, participating in the production of Rocky Horror, it never left his mind that he was going to have to go it alone. He watched the kids around him talking and laughing, kissing and holding hands, and then he’d get shoved into a locker to clear his head.
One afternoon, Burt came down to Kurt’s room as he was changing his shirt.
“What on earth is that on your back, Kurt?”
Kurt quickly pulled on a shirt. “It’s nothing, Dad.”
“That don’t look like nothing; that looks like a bruise.”
“I’m fine, dad.”
“Take the shirt off, Kurt. Let me see it.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Now, Kurt, before I get all worked up and stressed out.”
Kurt slowly peeled his shirt up and over his back to show his dad the layers of bruises he’d been dealing with, day after day, week after week, month after month.
Burt gasped. “Oh, Lord, Kurt. Who is doing this to you?”
Kurt looked his dad in the eye, checking to see if there was any hint of disappointment or rejection in him, but seeing only compassion and sorrow.
Kurt took a deep breath. “It’s the jocks, dad. They are the biggest homophobes you’ve ever met, and that’s saying something, because I’ve met the people who go to your church.”
“This can’t continue, bud. We need to do something about it.”
The next day, when Kurt got home from school, there was a brochure and a box on the dining room table. Kurt picked up the paper and looked carefully. His father had underlined some of it just for him.
Dalton Academy for Boys
A private, non-denominational preparatory school
High academic expectations
Excellence in the arts
Zero tolerance bullying policy
Kurt went to find his dad, who was sleeping on the couch.
“Dad, wake up! Dad!”
As Burt regained consciousness, he smiled at the brochure in Kurt’s hand.
“You saw it, huh, bud?”
“What is this?”
Burt’s eyes lit up. “Carole found it. It’s a school over in Westerville. They give scholarships to pastor’s kids and missionary’s kids.”
“You want to send me to a Christian school? Are you nuts? They’d kill me, or at least kick me out when they find out I’m gay.” Kurt scoffed and tossed the piece of paper back onto the table.
“Kurt, hear me out. I’ve already talked to the headmaster about it. He has already worked out the logistics for you to come, and he assures me that you will be safe there.” Burt looked at Kurt earnestly. “No bullying allowed, Kurt. And it won’t even cost us a dime.”
The following Monday, Kurt walked in for his first day at Dalton Academy. He was in awe of the grandeur and majestic architecture and art. It was culture shock compared to McKinley. After his first class, the entire student body streamed downstairs, excited for something, but Kurt didn’t know what was going on at all. He turned to the first friendly face he saw – a dark-haired, brown-eyed boy coming down the stairs.
“Excuse me, I’m new here.”
