The tricky part

At twelve, Martin Moran began a sexual relationship with a counselor he had met at a Catholic boys' camp, and it lasted until he was fifteen. Nearly three decades later, at forty-two, he decided to track down the man and confront him.

Moran was raised in a devout Irish Catholic household whose piety seemed beyond reproach. A great aunt was a nun in a cloistered order, and his father was a newspaper reporter. The family lived in Denver's Virginia Vale neighborhood but worshipped and sent their children to Christ the King, the parish church and school on the hill above. Within that community, Martin learned the teachings of a good Catholic boy, lessons that wrestled with questions of the soul and the body.

The counselor, Bob, was a Vietnam veteran who was building a ranch camp in the mountain wilderness. He taught the boys in his care to milk cows, repair barbed wire, and run rafts down rivers. He drove a six-wheeled International Harvester truck and could navigate by the stars. He also took notice of a boy who seemed uncertain of himself, and he began to introduce that boy to intimacy.

This memoir looks back on that relationship and its lasting influence on the man Moran became. Written with frank honesty and a sharp, wry voice, it explores a central paradox: that what seems like injury can sometimes become the source of growth and, perhaps, grace.