He’d found comfort and acceptance back at St. Ignatius Academy, the Catholic school where he’d met Søren. He wasn’t Catholic, never had been, but the Jesuits at the school had been hard-drinking, open-minded intellectuals. Jesuits were notoriously liberal, at least by Catholic standards. He remembered one brave boy in a social ethics class asking Father Henry under what circumstances an abortion could be permitted. Father Henry had answered, “Never on an empty stomach,” and the class had been too shocked to laugh for a full five seconds.

Something told him abortion jokes wouldn’t be welcome in this church.

“Awful, isn’t it?” Kingsley turned and saw a young woman standing in the door to an office at the front of the church. “That poster.”

Kingsley took the necessary two seconds to reorient his brain, so he could speak without any trace of his French accent.

“It is awful,” Kingsley agreed. “My religion forbids engaging in propaganda.”

“Excuse me?”

Kingsley gave her a placid, nonthreatening and therefore entirely fake smile.

“I was wondering if Reverend Fuller was in. I’d like to speak to him.”

“He’s not here,” she said with a nervous lilt in her voice. The girl was pretty and could have been beautiful if she wasn’t hiding under a shapeless floral dress. She looked young, twenty or twenty-one, and she had a sweet innocent gleam in her eyes. “The WTL headquarters are in Stamford. He doesn’t stop by here very often. He’s a busy man.”

“I hear he’s also a very godly man.”

The girl smiled broadly.

“He is. So inspiring. Reverend Fuller truly loves the Lord, and his church loves him.”

“No one loves men of the cloth more than I do.”

“My name is Chastity. Could I do something for you?”

“No, Chastity does nothing for me.”

“Sir?”

“Actually you might be able to help me,” he said, walking up to her and putting the bare minimum of socially required distance between them as possible. “I have a friend. She has a serious problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

“She’s a lesbian.”

Chastity’s eyes widened.

“That is a problem. Have you talked to her about it?”

“I have. She’s unrepentant.” He exhaled heavily in faux disappointment.

“Those people often are. The heart of the homosexual gets hard the longer they stay in their sinful lifestyle.”

“Yes, her heart is very hard. So hard it makes me hard.”

“Oh, no, you can’t let your heart get hardened. God loves a soft heart.”

“So I should be soft?”

“You should. Soft and open to God.”

“Are you soft and open, Chastity?”

The young woman blushed a little. When she spoke she’d developed a slight stammer.

“I try to be. For God.” She coughed and took a small step back. “So, you’re here because you’re worried about your lesbian friend and the life of sin she’s living?”

“I heard that Reverend Fuller’s church has programs to help people like her. Camps, even. Is that true?”

“Yes, we do have some programs. There’s the New Paradise program. It involves intensive reorienting therapy.”

“New Paradise? Sounds promising.”

“It’s a program that helps homosexuals return to an existence like that of Eden and the Garden of Paradise.”

“So, it’s a nudist colony?”

“No, silly.” Chastity blushed and giggled. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth to silence herself. “In Eden it was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

“Poor Steve. He can stay with me.”

“Sir?”

“The New Paradise program?” Kingsley prompted.

“Right. Yes,” she said, clearly relieved to get off that train of thought. “In the New Paradise program she’ll undergo intensive therapy to help her understand a woman’s place in the world.”

“Which is?”

“Underneath men.”

“Women belong underneath men?”

“Of course. Women are submissive to men. That’s the biblical model of the family.”

“I’m a man,” Kingsley said. “And you’re a woman. So you should be under me?”

“In a biblical way,” she said, stammering again.

“That’s my favorite way.” Kingsley stepped closer, close enough he could feel her body trembling with nervousness. But this time she didn’t take a step back. “I’m worried this therapy won’t be enough for my friend. She loves to seduce straight girls.”

Chastity’s blush deepened.

“She is in deep sin, then.”

“So very deep,” Kingsley agreed. “She has short hair and dresses like a man.”

“That’s awful. A woman’s femininity is a gift from God. Women shouldn’t even wear pants as they disguise her womanliness.”

Kingsley glanced down at the shapeless dress she wore. Sam in her suits looked more womanly than this girl in her house dress.

“I agree. I try to get her to take off her pants, but I haven’t made any progress yet.”

“Shameful. She should take her pants off for you. I mean, she should wear dresses. All women should wear dresses or skirts. That’s what I mean.”