The Transplanted Heart
 by: Hankster

© 2009 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

The small town of Arborville, a suburb of Atlanta, GA, has a population of approximately 7,500 pious, church going souls.  There are three churches in town to choose from; Southern Baptist (all black), Southern Baptist (all white), and Southern Baptist (fairly well integrated.)  Practically everyone in town goes to one of the three churches. 

In the all black, and in the fairly well integrated churches, the good pastors always preached the lessons that Jesus had handed down to us, generally about the power of love and forgiveness.  More importantly, they practiced what they preached.

On the other hand, in the all white church, Pastor Jimmy Winningham kept up a weekly barrage of hate spewing sermons.  In one way or another he admonished his flock to hate and reject every human being who wasn’t white, Baptist and heterosexual.   He swore that these folk were all bound to burn eternally in hell!!!  He was particularly venomous when it came to the ‘queers.’  He constantly blamed the homosexuals for every ill visited by God on this, His chosen planet.  He reviled the ‘gay agenda’ which sought to convert our youth to their sinful ways.  This was particularly ironic because not one member of his congregation would be inclined to admit that he had ever met a homosexual or heard of one living among them.  The assumption must be made that in a town of 7,500 souls, at least a handful of gay men and women were unhappily buried in the closet, and would move out of town at the first opportunity.  Poor Pastor Jimmy!  He didn’t have a clue, but he was one of those closeted homosexuals.

He would hurry home after church every Sunday and hole himself up in his small apartment behind the church.  While his flock were all enjoying Sunday family lunches, Jimmy would whack off, all the while dreaming he was being raped by, or he was fucking, one of the handsome young bucks in his congregation.  With all that going on in his masturbation fantasies, it never occurred to him that he might be gay simply because he had never acted on his obsessions,.

One Sunday morning, Pastor Jimmy pounded on his lectern, and advised his flock that all the ‘queers’ would most certainly populate hell.  If nothing else, he was very repetitive, and in spite of his ranting, most of the congregation found their minds wandering away.  His voice got angrier and angrier.  His face became more and more pinched, and his eyes got beadier and beadier.  He was only 38 but at the moment he looked 58, especially with his hair slicked back, giving him a wolf like appearance.

Suddenly, those who were not day-dreaming, noticed that Jimmy’s neck had turned a deep scarlet.  Slowly the redness was rising up his face.  At last his forehead was blazing red, and then it turned ashen white as the preacher slumped to the floor. 

The good people of Jimmy’s congregation sent for the town’s only doctor, who did not attend any of the three churches.  He was glad to see that Jimmy was breathing on his own, but he had obviously suffered a massive heart attack.  Clearly you could blame the homos for Jimmy’s heart attack, since he was raving against them when he collapsed.  The doctor gave Jimmy interferon and forced an aspirin down him.  He sent for an ambulance and Jimmy was transported to a very fine, well equipped hospital in Atlanta. 

The doctors at the hospital performed a triple by-pass, but declared that the prognosis for Jimmy was not good.   Unless he received a new heart within a month, he probably would not survive.

In a neatly kept white bungalow, about one mile from the hospital, dwelt seventeen year old Robbie Cutler.   Robbie was out and proud, and had the support of his adoring parents.  Unfortunately Robbie was very effeminate, and very flamboyant.  The not quite, but almost feminine clothes that he wore to school, were scandalous.   In school, he did everything he could to avoid attending PE, and finally the teachers allowed it, since nobody wanted him on their team anyhow.  He was teased and abused constantly, but Robbie faced his tormentors, stuck out his chin and put on a ‘fuck y’all’ face.

About a week after Pastor Jimmy was admitted to the hospital, Robbie was walking home from school.  He turned a corner, only to face his perpetual tormentors.  One look at them and he knew that something had changed.  Gone were the grins on their faces.  They had always laughed and hurled epithets at Robbie, but had rarely actually touched him.  Now they were not smiling and each of them held a baseball bat securely in his hands.

Robbie had never seen such hatred in their eyes before, but he had no time to think about it.  He lost consciousness with the first blow of a bat.  He never even heard one of them yell, “I’m sending you to hell, faggot.”  They beat Robbie repeatedly without mercy until the fun and joy left them, and they ran away.

Moments later a passerby spotted Robbie.  He saw a bloody face and immediately called 911.  By the time Robbie’s parents reached the hospital, Robbie was on life support.  His brain was dead and there was no chance of recovery.  After several hours of grief therapy, the Cutlers agreed to pull the plug and donate Robbie’s organs for transplant.

One of the doctors informed Robbie’s parents that there was a rather young Baptist Minister in the hospital who would die if he didn’t get a heart very quickly.  If they were to request that Robbie’s heart go to the minister, who didn’t have much time left, he wouldn’t have to wait his turn on the donee list.  The doctors already knew that Robbie’s heart would be compatible and receptive in Jimmy’s body.  The dear, kind Cutlers had never known a minister who was less than charitable and loving and so they readily assigned Robbie’s heart to Jimmy Winningham.  They saw it as a sign from God and a good omen for Robbie.

When he woke up for the first time after surgery, Jimmy wasn’t quite lucid, but he was aware of two things.  First off, his chest pained him, but it was nothing he couldn’t stand.  It just wasn’t that bad.  Secondly, he no longer felt as if a vice was squeezing his body.  For a few weeks prior to his heart attack, he had been feeling as if something was crushing him and now he felt nothing and he was free of the unknown grip and it felt good.  Jimmy relaxed and fell asleep again.  He slept until the next morning.

When he woke up, his eyes fixed upon a rather large black man.  The man was smiling at him and he said, “Hi Pastor Winningham.  My name is Peter.  I’m your nurse this morning and I’m going to get you all cleaned up and fresh as a daisy in case you get some visitors today.”

Jimmy thought back.  In the days following his by-pass surgery, he had not had a single visitor.  He had no reason to expect one now. Jimmy was a loner, and he liked it that way.  Instead of ministering to his flock in their sicknesses or their mourning periods, he preferred to stay home alone and feed his hatreds.  A strange feeling of guilt invaded his thoughts and he vowed to change all that when he got back to his ministry.

As Peter took a soapy sponge in his hand, and started towards Jimmy’s brow, Jimmy started to recoil.  No African skin had ever touched him before.  Wisely he came to his senses.  He was in no position to complain to hospital authority.  Peter bathed him all over and discreetly offered him the sponge and indicated that he should do his own private parts.   The truth is that Peter was so gentle that Jimmy found himself totally enjoying his sponge bath.  Jimmy was particularly impressed at the skill with which Peter changed his linen while he was still in the bed.  As if he could read Jimmy’s thoughts, Peter said. “We’ll get you out of bed in a couple of days and this will be a lot easier.  When the stitches come out, we’ll get you into a shower.”  That thought made Jimmy feel good all over.  He liked Peter and the good work he did.  He didn’t think that he could ever show gratitude to a black man, but he did, and to his surprise, it didn’t disturb him at all.

Peter was in and out of Jimmy’s room all day.  He had to administer more pills and more IV’s than Jimmy could count.  Each time he came in, he straightened Jimmy’s bed sheets to make him more comfortable.  At the end of his shift, Peter introduced Jimmy to the night nurse.  Mandy was a young white girl just out of nursing school.  She was as cute as a puppy, but Jimmy was to find out that she didn’t have Peter’s velvet touch.  Jimmy was surprised that when Mandy left the room, Peter stayed behind and sat on a chair.

“I notice that you had no visitors today,” Peter said.  “Do you mind if I visit for awhile?”

“Not at all, but don’t you have family to go home to?” Jimmy asked.

“No sir,” Peter answered respectfully.  “I divorced about five years ago and my two boys are now in college.  One goes to Tulane and the other goes to the University of Florida.  My ex lives there now.”

Jimmy was amazed.  He never knew any black men who went to college.  In fact, he knew very few white men who did.  He was roused from his reveries when Peter asked him if he would like to meet the parents of the boy whose heart was now beating inside of him.  “They want to meet you and wish you well, but I need to get your permission.”

“Oh yes, by all means,” Jimmy said and he meant it.  He wanted to put his arms around these people and thank them for their singular act of charity.  Jimmy was aware of his feelings, but frankly he was confounded by them.

“Do you play cribbage?” Jimmy asked Peter.

“Yes, I love the game, but I don’t have a board around.”

“Could you bring a cribbage board tomorrow, and I’ll challenge you to a game.”  Jimmy actually smiled at Peter and once again he wondered what was going on with him.  He decided he just felt good, and he should stop wondering why.

The next day Jimmy got two visits.  The Cutlers arrived about 10 AM.  The three of them embraced, cried and tried to comfort each other.  Things were going well until Jimmy asked a fatal question.  “How did young Robbie die?”  he asked.

Mrs. Cutler began to cry so Mr. Cutler said that Robbie was the victim of a heinous hate crime.   “He was a loving person and a loving son, but none of that mattered to those bastards because he was gay.  He never harmed a soul and he didn’t deserve this at all.”

Jimmy lay dumbfounded in his bed.  The heart of a gay youngster was beating in his chest, sustaining him, keeping him alive.  At first Jimmy wanted to rip his heart out and die.  Of course he knew that thinking like that was irrational so instead he said, “Nobody deserves to die like that.”  Then he said to himself, Thank you, Robbie, for your heart.  I’ll prove to you that I deserve it.  He began to cry so the Cutlers wished him well and left the room.

When they were gone Peter came in with another round of medications.  “Did you know that my heart donor was gay?” Jimmy asked Peter.

“Yes, everyone in the hospital was appalled at the brutality those animals afflicted on an innocent boy.  As a minister you’ll have plenty of opportunity to speak out against such terrible hatred. I know you’ll make Robbie proud.”

Jimmy cringed and wanted to disappear from the room.  “I’ll do my best,” he said. 

“Do it for my boy in Florida also,” Peter added.

“Your son is gay?” Jimmy asked.  “But I thought he played football.”

“Right! He’s gay and he plays football.  I hear there are lots of gay football players,” Peter laughed.

Jimmy was too amazed to respond.  He was getting quite an education in the big city.  

“I’ve got the cribbage board,” Peter said.  “We’ll have a go at it at the end of my shift.

“You’re on.”

Jimmy’s next visitor arrived at about 2 PM.  It was one of the hospital chaplains.  Jimmy greeted him warmly even though he found out that Father Graham was an Episcopal Priest.  It was just nice to get visitors, especially another clergyman.  They chatted for a while and Jimmy made him promise to visit again.  Jimmy liked Roger.  He was a little younger than he, but he was very handsome, and Jimmy felt himself wanting to be Roger’s friend.  In fact, Jimmy had a desire to masturbate for the first time since his heart attack.  He was no stranger to whacking off, but he was surprised that Father Roger had that effect on him.  He wondered if having a gay heart was making him gay.  Strangely, he didn’t care.

Just as Roger was about to leave the room another young man came in.

“Joey,” Roger cried.  “Where have you been?  I haven’t seen you in ages.”  The two men embraced warmly and then Roger turned to Jimmy.

“This is Rabbi Joseph Brill, Jimmy.  He roams the hospital halls also, so I guess you’ll see a lot of him before you go home.”  Jimmy had never seen a Jew in his life, much less a rabbi.  Where were the horns, the hooked nose?  The young man standing before him was good looking.  His hair was stylishly cut and he didn’t look any different from anyone Jimmy knew.

“How’s your boyfriend?”  Joe asked Roger.

“It’s off again, on again,” Roger answered.  “Right now it’s off.  I guess I’ll have to keep looking for Mr. Right.”

When he left the room, Joe sat down in the chair next to Jimmy’s bed.  “It’s nice to meet you at last,” Joe said.  “Your story is all over the hospital.”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy asked.

“Well, it’s all about the irony.  A young boy is murdered in a hate crime and God directs his heart to a clergyman.  It’s the stuff O’Henry stories are made of.”

“I suppose,” Jimmy said.   He had never heard of O’Henry.  “Now I’m under pressure to be worthy of it.” 

Joe smiled and laid his hand on top of Jimmy’s.  This made Jimmy distinctly uncomfortable, but he said nothing and he didn’t move.

To break the silence he asked, “Is Father Roger gay?”

“Oh yes.  He never hides it.  His entire congregation knows.”

“Wow! Unbelievable.  How about you Rabbi?  Are you gay?’

Joe broke out laughing.  “Hell no!”  He reached into his wallet and pulled out a picture.  “This is my wife and son,” he said.  Jimmy looked at the picture.  Joe’s wife had blond hair and blue eyes.  She looked like she could have been a cheerleader for Bama.  His little son was also blue eyed and had red hair and a freckled face.

Jimmy stupidly said.  “Your wife’s not Jewish, is she?”

Joe laughed again.  “Sure she is. 100%.  Look, the reason for my visit is to clue you in on a few things.  The Cutlers are members of my congregation.  When the story got around, dozens of my congregants came to the hospital and donated blood for you.  They wanted to keep Robbie’s heart alive through you.  They don’t expect any thanks, but it would be nice if you sent our temple a little note when you are up to it.”  He handed Jimmy his card with the temple’s address on it.

After Joe left with a promise to visit again, Jimmy had time to think.  His whole belief system was falling apart.  The kindest, most intelligent nurse he had ever met in his life was black, and his son was gay, but he played football for the University of Florida.  The hospital chaplain was also gay, and the rabbi and his family didn’t look any different than the people who lived on his street.  The Cutlers didn’t look different either.  Most amazing, the heart beating inside of him and keeping him alive was Jewish and gay, and it had been fortified by other Jewish blood.  Jimmy’s mind was working overtime trying to reconstruct his prejudices, and this was causing too much stress to his belief system.  Fortunately, he was saved by the bell, when Peter came in to play cribbage.

The next morning after his sponge bath, Peter announced that he had orders to get him out of bed and walking a little bit.  Jimmy’s new heart was working well and showed no signs of rejection.  Jimmy was convinced that Robbie was making sure of it.  He was also sure that Robbie had not gone to hell, but was looking over him in heaven.

Peter walked him to the bathroom so that he could try to pee standing up and go potty in a normal position.  Bed pans were so awkward.  Jimmy was frightened but Peter left him alone.  When he was finished, he washed himself and looked in the mirror.  He could not believe what he saw.  Except that he needed a haircut badly, he looked ten years younger.  In fact, he looked younger than his 38 years.  All the wrinkles, or rather stress marks, on his face were gone.  His ashen complexion was a healthy, ruddy color.  Overall there was a look of happiness and relaxation in his reflection.  He thought, Robbie, whatever it is you have done to me, I like it.  Thank you.

When he got out of the bathroom, Peter was there to make sure he was all right.  “Can you get me a barber?”  Jimmy asked.

“No need,” a familiar voice said.  “I brought my personal barber to take care of you.  “Mark, make this man look like a million bucks,” Roger ordered.

Well this is one stereotype which didn’t shatter, Jimmy thought.  Bill is a hairdresser and as flaming as they come.  Jimmy was surprised that he was able to let Bill touch him, and that he didn’t turn to stone or spontaneously combust.

When Mark held a mirror for Jimmy to see the results of his makeover, Jimmy almost cried.  He never knew how handsome he was.  A new do can’t make you change from ugly to handsome, but a new attitude can.  At the moment, Jimmy didn’t hate anyone.  He even loved himself, and the face staring back at him was radiating joy and love.   Thank you Robbie for your heart.

Finally everyone left the room and Roger and Jimmy were alone.  Roger took Jimmy’s hand in his and shivers ran up and down Jimmy’s spine.

“You look fantastic,” Roger said.  “I just hope you feel as good as you look.”  As he said that he squeezed Jimmy’s hand.  Jimmy held back tears.

“Forgive me,” Jimmy said, “so that I can forgive myself.”

“For what?” Roger asked.  He was truly confused.  He didn’t know the old Jimmy.

Until I came to this hospital, I never knew a single black man, or a Jew, or a gay person, but I raved and ranted against them.  Robbie knew that we are all the same underneath.  We are all God’s children.  Robbie’s heart is now my heart and now I can see all that he saw.  I will never betray Robbie’s heart so please forgive me and ask God to forgive me.

Without realizing what he was doing, Roger wrapped Jimmy in his arms, and held his head close to his chest.  “God and I have forgiven you.  Now you must forgive yourself.”

Jimmy looked up into Rogers dark blue eyes.  They smiled at each other.

“I know it’s crazy and probably immoral,” Jimmy said, “but I love you, Father Roger.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Roger said as he leaned down to kiss Jimmy on the lips.  Jimmy offered no resistance even when both their lips parted and he could taste Roger’s tongue.

To be continued...

Posted: 08/07/09