2043

"But for me, this is all real, and for me this always stays real.   I cannot get away from it.  Unlike the rest of you, who all seem programmed to forget the Refuge. to forget Christ in his youthful resurrected form, to forget the glory and beauty of that sacred place. "But we still remember from time to time", say I, "and like you I have a schizotypal diagnosis, for what it is worth, which ain't a lot." "But we are not sick." "Of course we're not.  And we all have and share with you the lived experience of the Refuge, which now we have in writing, and soon to be posted on my own fridge door." "Our fridge door", retorts Carl. "Don't quibble", says Francois. His tone of voice betraying clandestine irritation. "When did you first realize your...your alternative identity", says Carl. "My true identity", says Ethan.  "Not long after I came to live with Kim, I began to attend church with her, and soon was baptised and confirmed.  I must have been fifteen by then.  Just when the priest placed in my hand the host on my first communion, suddenly I saw not him, but a strange and very beautiful boy, sixteen perhaps, dark golden hair, piercing green eyes and the kindest and most loving smile I have ever seen.  I didn't know it was Jesus.  He said to me almost in a sweet whisper, tonight, I will come to see you and then I will reveal all.  I returned to my pew, unsure of what the priest might have been thinking when he saw me standing there, remaining behind the others, slack jawed and wide eyed.  I sat down, flanked by both Kim, and your mom, Kenny, both laying their hands on my shoulders, because they could see I was crying..."