Camp Damascus(49)

“You’re way ahead of me.” I laugh. “I’ve only done one.”

Saul sighs loudly. “Well, keep it at that,” he suggests. “There are no answers, Darling. Once they’ve got you tethered, there’s no going back.”

“But what is tethering?” I ask. “If you know there’s no escape, then you must have a pretty good idea how it works.”

Saul hesitates, staring off into space. “You’re the one who actually remembers it,” he finally counters. “Why drag me back into this? What else could I possibly offer?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, growing a little frustrated. “Listen, I understand this whole thing has become too much for you, but I’m not there yet. I’m still trying to sort it out, so if there’s anything I should know, just tell me.”

Saul straightens up a bit. He takes another drink of whiskey, but it’s not the same casual sip as before. This time he downs the whole glass, as if to get that out of the way so he can focus on delivering his information. “Tethering means possession,” he states bluntly. “It’s demonic possession.”

“But the church is doing it!”

Saul shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “Kingdom of the Pine runs Camp Damascus, the most successful ex-gay conversion therapy program on the planet,” he expounds. “This whole city, whether it’s the congregation or the tourism or just local traditions, it all revolves around the success of that program.”

I’m listening closely, nodding along.

“Have you ever stopped to ask yourself how Camp Damascus is so successful?”

The official answer is that it “just is,” and they can get away with this nonresponse because the numbers speak for themselves.

There are several rumors, however. One theory is the program relies on cutting-edge cognitive studies, developed with the help of Pastor Bend’s Silicon Valley business connections who would rather remain anonymous. Using huge swaths of online data, they’ve determined exactly what steps one can take to remain pure.

Another theory is Prophet Cobel left behind additional sacred texts, a trove of hidden documents containing secrets of the universe from Jesus himself. These informational writings provide the congregation with a leg up against our competition.

Of course, the most common response is the classic one: it’s just God’s will.

I immediately recall these answers, tired regurgitations of congregation propaganda, then push them aside. “I have no idea,” I finally admit.

“The church is invoking their own possessions,” Saul explains. “They assign a demon to each member of their program—a watcher to keep every graduate in line. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

I nod, picturing Pachid’s filthy, broken grin.

Saul climbs to his feet, heading to a study in the next room and calling out while he roots around. “The demons will keep you free from sin. They’ll scare you away from impure thoughts and, typically, that’s enough. In extreme cases, the demons will resort to violence. Sometimes they’ll torture the one who’s possessed, sometimes they’ll eliminate the target of desire. Either way, Kingdom of the Pine has a thriving business with a spotless success rate.”

“What about you?” I retort. “You’re not a success. I’m not a success!”

Saul returns with a thick, leather-bound tome in hand. “We’re not successful conversions? Really?” he retorts with a laugh. “I’m certainly not living the gay lifestyle I envisioned.”

He’s right. While our trips to Camp Damascus have left chaos in their wakes, any shred of my homosexuality has been pushed deeper into the closet than I could’ve ever imagined. Forget acting on my desires, it’s dangerous for me to even think about them.

“But … you’re still gay,” I finally counter. “I mean, it doesn’t actually work.”

Saul is clearly intrigued by my choice of words.

“I’m still gay,” I continue, using myself as the example.

Saul nods. “You’re right,” he admits.

“How did you learn all this stuff?” I continue, overwhelmed with curiosity. “I keep hitting dead ends.”

Saul drops the weighty book on the table before me, the loud rattle making me jerk. “Spiritual study,” he reveals, returning to his seat. “Prayer.”

I stare at my host awkwardly. “Wait, after all this, you still believe in prayer? You believe in God?”

“You don’t?” Saul counters with a laugh. “There’s a demon attached to you, Darling! Are you really saying the devil is out there doing his wicked work, but now God is a bridge too far?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. He’s got a fair point. I’ve been so wrapped up in my disillusionment with the church itself that I didn’t even see what was sitting right in front of me, the mountains of evidence that something else is out there. Of course, it’s difficult to tell what that something is, but throwing out the whole cosmic realm might not be the most logical course of action.

I haven’t been pushing through this journey with as much balance as I’d like, mostly because swinging hard to the opposite side of belief feels so good right now. I’m angry, after all.

Deep down, however, I’m analytical enough to know this isn’t the best approach.