Steve Petersen has been hoping his homosexual feelings are "just a
phase." But as a nineteen-year-old embarking on a two-year Mormon mission
in South America, he realizes those feelings are still there, and that
he’s attracted to another missionary -- the companion he’s been assigned
to be with twenty-four hours a day.
Set in 1972, less than three years after Stonewall, these missionaries
have been taught by their church that homosexuality is an abomination, and
those who suffer from those tendencies must repent. Worse, they're told
that with God’s help, fervent prayer, and mind over matter, they can
become heterosexuals. Steve's conflict is real and heart-wrenching; he’s
an official representative of his church, but he's falling in love with
his companion. Can he reconcile his church doctrine and the feelings in
his heart?
Excerpt
"Elder Petersen, I'm assigning you to Cali. It's a big city with about
a million people. Elder Evans will be your companion. He's new to Cali as
well. He's transferring from Armenia today. My assistants will
take you to the airport and give you the address of your
house in Cali. I'm sure Elder Evans will be there when you arrive.
He's from Salt Lake too, and will finish his mission in late August.
I'm sure you'll make a good team. His picture's next to yours
there on the board."
I looked at the picture and recognized my new companion
immediately.
"I know him. Sort of..."
The President smiled. "Small world. Don't call him by his first name.
Remember, he's Elder Evans now. I'm sure you'll make a great team."
I flew to Cali and gave the cab driver the address I had been given.
There were deep potholes in the residential side streets of my new
neighborhood. The cab driver found the house, pulled over and turned out
the headlights. Elder Evans came out to greet me and help me in with my
luggage. He had removed his tie and had undone the top button of his
characteristic white shirt. I gulped when I glanced from his face to his
Adam's apple and the dimple below it, then again into his smiling eyes.
They were blue and sincere. He had light brown hair and was six feet tall,
with a slender, muscular build. He had powerful shoulders and arms.
"Welcome to Cali," Elder Evans said as he gave me a hug. His hands were
strong, but felt gentle as he patted me on the back. "I'm new here too, so
we'll learn our way around together. I've worked with several of the
missionaries here before, though. Where are you from, Elder
Petersen?"
"Salt Lake. The same part you're from. I recognize you from high
school."
He looked at me quizzically, but with a guilty expression. "Sorry, I don't remember you. Did we know each other?"
He looked at me quizzically, but with a guilty expression. "Sorry, I don't remember you. Did we know each other?"
"Not really. You were a senior when I was a sophomore. I just remember
your face."
Our high school had nearly 3,000 students in grades 10 through 12. We
had overlapped only one of our three years there. I had been a tenth
grader, a sophomore, who didn't stand out from the crowd. I remembered him
as a twelfth grader, a senior, who was an elected student officer, on the
football and wrestling teams, and involved with several other student
groups. He had been hard for me to miss. Not only had he been involved in
so many extracurricular activities, but also I remember noticing him in
the crowded hallways at school simply because I thought he was drop-dead
gorgeous.
Of the approximately 1,500 male students in our school that year, there
had only been about six that I found really exciting to look at. And here
I was, assigned as a missionary companion to one of them. I would have to
be careful to keep my thoughts in order. We were sometimes reminded that
even if we didn't do anything, it was a sin to "lust in our
hearts."
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