Don’t you dare blush, I thought, as I felt my face already starting to heat up. I did not need a mirror to tell me that I was going red. If you blush it’s over. The only reason you’d blush is because what he’s saying applies to you, and everyone will understand that. So don’t you dare blush.
Usually, telling myself not to blush was like not thinking about the pink elephant. It would only make me redden more quickly and start to sweat profusely. The more I would sweat, the more embarrassed I would get, and the vicious cycle would go on. This time, however, my face began to cool. Maybe the dire nature of the situation gave me the willpower to conquer my physiognomy’s betrayal. But I’d only held back the tide. The lesson had only just begun.
“You see, the Torah prohibits it because it’s not natural,” Mr Scheftz said as he paced in front of the board, chalk in hand. “Animals do not do it, because sex is for one purpose, and that is procreation.”
I tried to focus on the words that had no special meaning for me. Animals. Purpose. Natural. Natural. Natural. Just don’t think about the meaning. I kept my head down, looking at the desk, so as not to catch anyone’s eye. I could not risk them seeing my inner turmoil.
“You hear couples say that they broke up because they ‘just weren’t a good fit for each other’. That is totally false. Men and women fit each other perfectly. They were made to fit each other. Men and men, or women and women do not fit each other.”
Jacklyn put up her hand. “Mr Scheftz. I’ve heard that gay people say it’s not a choice. How can God punish them for being born that way?”
Mr Scheftz took a deep breath in, still pacing back and forth like he always did.
“They say it’s not a choice,” he intoned. “But it’s always a choice. No one has to have sex. If a man is attracted to men and not women, he can choose not to have sex. God punishes the sin, not the sinner.”
The sin, not the sinner, I thought. The sin, not the sinner. I considered putting up my hand, just like Jacklyn had. If I was brave enough to ask a question, that would make it look like I had nothing to hide, right? But I knew that if I did that, I would go bright red and sweat would pour down my face, and then everyone would know. If only I had a little bit of composure!
I tried to focus on the words he’d said. The sin, not the sinner. I was the sinner, and I’d already sinned over and over again, hunched over a toilet. If anyone ever found out about that… The sin, not the sinner. Don’t blush. You’ve done well so far. Just keep it up.
“There are even special shuls where gay people can go.”
How could anyone go to one of those shuls? I wondered, briefly considering the option. If anyone sees you going in, they’ll know your secret.
Kerry put up her hand. “The Torah says that men can’t sleep with men, but it doesn’t say women can’t sleep with women. Are you allowed to be a lesbian?”
“That would be physically impossible for me,” Mr Scheftz said, and the class giggled. I laughed with them. “No, the Torah says that you must not follow the way of the Egyptians, and that’s referring to their sexual practices. In Egypt, women had sex with women, men cheated on their wives, and they had mass orgies.”
I could smell my deodorant, activated by the heat under my arms. I was still putting all my mental power into not blushing. I could not afford to. Would this lesson not just end? I looked at my watch. Still 20 minutes left! I could not make it, I simply could not make it that long.
I put up my hand.
“Can I go to the bathroom please?”
Mr Scheftz gave me the go-ahead. I exited the room quickly, without looking around at the rest of the class. Could they tell? I barely ever put up my hand, not even to go to the bathroom. Would this breach of character show them what I was going through?
As I walked down the corridor, I lifted my face to the breeze and felt the air cool my skin. That’s better. Finally, I was free, if only for a couple of minutes. I was alone, the only way I should be, the only way to ensure no one ever found out what type of person I was. Alone I could pretend that my red face and sweat meant nothing sinister. Alone I could collapse into myself, and hide within the heavy burden of my pathetic existence.
But I’d have to go back to class soon, and there’d still be 15 minutes of that hell. I wished for a moment that I’d get sick, faint, fall flat on the floor. That I’d wake up and the nightmare would be over, and I’d never have a bad urge again. That I’d never blush, or have to hide. That I could be myself and be proud, and not feel the immense shame I carried with me wherever I went. And that I’d suddenly be someone that mattered, and not a constant disappointment to myself.
That was a pipe dream, I knew. Better not to dream at all. My only hope was in telling myself that one thing: just don’t blush.