Chapter Text
“East of Eden: Behavioral Correction Summer Program?” I look up from the pamphlet my parents had given me. “But why?” I looked at them with uncertain eyes and almost trembling lips.
“Well, we’ve seen a spike in certain behaviors…” My father spoke awkwardly, clearly trying to step around the subject. Sadly I started to understand where this conversation was going and why we were having it. I was always pretty far from a traditionally masculine boy. I’d been called dozens of synonyms for gay since middle school, but I never saw that as an issue. I honestly didn’t know my parents saw anything wrong with me either.
“Is this about Oscar Wilde?” I asked apprehensively with an awkward smile, a bit too nervous to face this “problem” head on.
“Well, kind of… Not exactly…” My father continued jammering on, seemingly as nervous about this conversation as I was. “There is nothing wrong about wanting to read the classics!” My father defensively assured me.
“No Azi, it’s about more than that!” my mother chimed in, sounding slightly annoyed. “You’re a year away from graduation, and if you don’t fix yourself into a more proper man before college, who knows how you'll be tempted?” I could sense the worry in her tone, which simply confused me further. While I knew I wasn’t a manly man, I never thought of myself as an improper one.
“Tempted?” I was taken aback; even if I had the odd thought or two about men crossing my mind, I never acted on anything. In fact, my desires never seemed to go much beyond kissing. Regardless, I was kind and respectful to others, mild mannered, well educated, and a frequent church goer. I thought that those characteristics certainly more than made up for anything that could be seen as a sexual failure on my part.
“We’re just trying to keep you on the path of God's plan, son!” My father patted my shoulder. I must admit that framing clarified this situation to me, if only in part. This was not about who I was, but how it could affect my relationship with God.
“It’s just for the Summer, Azi, then it will all go back to normal. In fact,it will go back to better than normal!” Mom’s smile was bright, her eyes were kind; they must’ve really thought what they were doing was best for me.
“I’ll do my best.” I sighed slightly and tried to give my most convincing smile.
“Thank you sweetie,” she said sweetly before giving me a hug. “Now go start packing up, Azi dear, we’ll have dinner soon.” I nodded and then headed up to my room.
As soon as I got there I closed the door and slid down on the floor. I stared up at the ceiling, unsure of how to proceed. I knew I should start packing but there was so much to take in. I could feel myself starting to break down. I knew I wasn’t normal by any means, but I didn’t realize my eccentricities had gotten so burdensome. I took a few moments to myself, allowing tears to flow. I was just trying to let these nerves pass, trying to work up the gall to put this venture in motion. But I knew doing so would make it far too real. Despite my hangups I somehow managed it; I found myself able to place a few comforting books in my luggage.
The rest of the week went by both far too slowly and all too quickly. While my daily life hadn’t changed much, my thoughts were filled with dread for the impending experience of this whole camp venture. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t as if I had any solid plans for the summer (other than reading of course); perhaps this could be a good chance to broaden my horizons, so to speak. And if there was something wrong with me, I should do my best to fix such behaviors. This was going to be a good thing in the end; at least, I kept telling myself that…
-
The morning before camp started, it almost felt as if it would all be okay. My mother made a rather large and sumptuous breakfast. The scent of the kitchen was heavenly; the air was kissed with my favorite earl grey tea. The table was dressed with platters of fluffy blueberry pancakes, crisp bacon, and a variety of vibrant prepared fruits. It was a joyous sight, but the feeling didn’t last long. The longer I looked at the beautiful feast, the more it felt like a last hurrah, a calm before the summer storm.
“Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Father.” I sat down quietly.
“Good morning, son! You ready to get a crack on?” My father greeted, putting down his newspaper.
“I suppose so.” I smiled softly at him, hiding my unease.
“There you are, sweetness, I made a bunch of your favorites!” She kissed my cheek before proceeding to serve me a plate full of home cooked goodies.
“Thank you, Mother.” She then sat down and Father led us in saying grace.
The rest of breakfast went rather well; the taste of blueberry pancakes was only heightened by the lovely conversation about the Cherubim Players’ upcoming charity production of Into The Woods this Fall. While it wasn’t my favorite Sondhiem musical (That honor would go to Sunday in The Park with George ) it was still absolutely splendid and I looked forward to being able to see it when I returned home.
After breakfast I grabbed my belongings and we got in the car. I wasn’t even a mile away from home yet and I missed it dearly. I knew I’d miss my parents, I’d miss my mother’s brilliant cooking, I’d miss feeding ducks in the park, and I’d certainly miss my book collection. I could only bring so many of those books with me, after all.
The rest of the car ride was fine enough. My parents put on their The Sound of Music CD, which was far from my favorite, but it mostly faded into the background of my parent’s conversation. I was happily able to make the hour or so travel time into a reading opportunity.
“Here we are, Azi dear,” My mother said as we stopped the car. The area we stopped at was a rather lush looking sprawl of greenery, and in the center of it was a series of rather modern looking buildings. This was far from what I expected. I had hoped that this campsite would be more rustic and charming. Instead it felt almost corporate, and quite cold.
“Well, goodbye Mom and Dad, I suppose I’ll see you at the end of summer.” I grabbed my assorted bags and exited the car.
“Goodbye, Azi! We love you very much!” My mother’s voice sounded a touch tearful.
“Do try to make friends while you’re here, son!” My father added before they drove away; leaving me to head to the large building all alone.
The walk honestly wasn’t bad, but it felt much longer due to my ever pervasive melancholia regarding my whole situation. On my way inside I passed a sign that said “Welcome, Warriors of God”, so that was at least a smidge comforting.
When I got inside the lobby I signed in without issue. I was then told by a slim woman named Ms. Uriel (who was presumably one of the counselors) to wait in a fairly large dining hall. Despite all the fellow campers occupying it, it still felt quite empty. This wasn’t an issue; I was used to being left to my own devices. I was a rather awkward individual, and not a particularly interesting brand of such if my classmates had anything to say about it. To top it off, I wasn’t what anyone would call conventionally attractive; I was very pale, a bit on the short side, and as my mother would say, “rotund.” So others found little reason to want to get to know me. I found myself an empty table and pulled out a book.
Three chapters into The Odyssey, my attention was pulled away to a small but loud spat between a rather large, bald man who was also probably a counselor (or at least hopefully was) and a boy around my age. He was dressed like a stereotypical rebel type, red partially slicked back hair, dressed in black head to toe (save the gold-ish symbol on his shirt),and despite being indoors, wore sunglasses. To my dismay they seemed to be approaching me.
“Why Mr. Sandalphon, be careful! You don’t want to get too close. You don’t want to inspire any impure thoughts now, would you?” The boy with the sunglasses antagonized the counselor, a defiant grin plastered on his face.
I tried to ignore the commotion and focus on my novel, but as the thinly veiled venom flowed between them it seemed that wasn’t an option.
“Why don’t you sit here where it’s nice and quiet, and focus on keeping yourself out of trouble? Sound good, Anthony?” His tone invoked more of a threat than a suggestion. The man then gestured to the seat beside me. I bit my lower lip trying to refrain on giving my opinion on the display.
“Crowley!” The boy with the sunglasses corrected as he was practically pushed into a seat… Or perhaps he said Crawley? I could have easily misheard in my unnerved state.
“All right, Mr . Crowley,” The large man chided, flashing a wide toothy smile, studded with silver and gold teeth. It was rather unsettling, as if he was also trying to antagonize the redhead. This behavior seemed uncalled for from a fellow camper, but it was outright inappropriate from a counselor. He gave me a softer smile before walking away, presumably to deal with the other campers.
“Well, that was a warm welcome!” The other boy sneered and turned to me as if expecting a response.
“Huh?” was all I could manage to say as I stared at them blankly. I was caught off guard to say the least; someone who seemed as if he wouldn't have been out of place as the protagonist in a YA novel was speaking to me.
“The being shoved in here and such,” He continued, seemingly determined to continue a conversation of sorts. I assumed it was out of boredom.
“Yes, it all is rather off-putting” I gently placed a bookmark in my novel and turned my attention to this new associate. “Crawley, was it?” I asked with a soft smile.
“Crowley,” he corrected with far less bitterness than he had for Mr. Sandalphon.
“So sorry! Crowley; got it!” I made a note, tapping my temple as if to signify to him my doing so. I then gave a brighter smile, trying to be polite. I assumed that now that he’d vented, the conversation would come to a close and then I’d go back to my book.
“And you?” He pressed on. He shifted his body to face me, placing his elbow on the table leaning his head into his hand.
“Oh, it’s Aziraphale.” I said with a slight nervous smile as I tried to gauge his reaction through his dark lenses.
“Your parents are super churchy or something?” Crowley cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Well…” I motion towards the banner on the wall decorated with the words “Welcome Back to God’s Path” on it. “It’s sort of why I’m here,” I laughed nervously.
“Fair ‘nough.” He shrugged. Just then a familiar and unwelcome face came up to me, seemingly only to make my day worse.
“Aziraphale! It’s great to see you, sunshine!” Gabriel beamed at me, causing me to retreat inwardly. “You parents told me you’d be joining us this summer.” As he spoke the pit in my stomach began to grow.
“Yes well…” I faked a smile and tried to sound pleasant despite having nothing to say.
“Don’t worry Sunshine, we’ll kick this thing! Who knows, maybe we’ll even shed some pounds in the process.” He “playfully” poked my stomach with an overly bright smile plastered on his face and then walked away to meet the other participants. The conversation was quick but I desperately wished it ended sooner. I could tell in the periphery that Crowley looked very unamused.
“You know that knob?” Crowley gestured at Gabriel.
“He’s my cousin.” I smile sheepishly.
“He seems like a real piece of work…” He sneered.
“That he certainly is.” Gabriel was the shining star of the family. He was successful, conventionally attractive, a man of God, he volunteered his summers working with wayward teens, but above all he was, as Crowley so perfectly put, a “knob”.
“Guess that explains why you were sent here then,” He said wryly as he slumped onto the table, placing his head atop his folded arms.
“Yes well… Wait w-what do you mean by that?” I sputtered out.
“If their preference is that,” He motioned to Gabriel, “Then of course they sent you to a place to scrub you of your ‘you-ness’. That guy has the personality of a health magazine cover.” I covered my mouth, suppressing a chuckle.
“I’m not sure I’m following; my parents don’t want me to stop being me, they just want to make sure I stay in line with God’s Ineffable plan!” I try to reassure Crowley with a kind look.
“Ineffable? The fu...” He shook his head as if trying to remove a thought from his brain. “You know… Whatever, it’s fine, Angel Boy.” I was still quite confused, even more so by the nickname he’d just given me. I blushed ever so slightly, unsure if the comment was sarcastic or endearing, a small part of me did hope it was the latter.