President Ballard was accusing him of something very severe, and the only way to get out of that was to go along with his requests.Īs he removed his clothes and stripped down his garments, President Ballard could see his body’s frame and build. His strong, confident demeanor began to weaken, shocked by the impropriety of this request. Stand up and take your clothes off.”Įlder Edwards rose to his feet, feeling his hands tremble as he reached for the buttons of his suit jacket. Every script he’d memorized now failed him for this moment, and he didn’t know what to say. It was a break from all his known practices and routines. This seemed wildly improper and irregular. President Ballard stared him in the eye, meeting his gaze with a firm, dominant look. After all, how do you prove you don’t feel something? In a rush to response affirmative and cooperative, Elder Edwards answered, “Absolutely.” “Are you willing to prove that you don’t have these feelings?” He wasn’t sure why, but something about President Ballard made him hot. It was a quick and incidental action, but enough that it made Elder Edwards nervous. His chair was a careful distance away, but as he scooted himself to the edge of his seat, his knees brushed against the missionary’s. “I’ll also you again: have you ever had sexual thoughts about men?”īallard moved himself closer. He felt his heart race as he tried to think of a response. He could see Ballard looking at him-through him. He felt stripped of his tools, his shields, his guards. And that you kept looking.”Įlder Edward’s face was now a bright red. “It’s my understanding that when he came out of the shower, that’s when this occurred. “That’s not exactly what I heard,” he continued, shifting the tone in his voice from idling questioning now to one of condemnation. He knew this boy was beautiful, but it was what he keep inside the he was after. The boy’s tie seemed to help exaggerate their color… yet another tool to keep the boy’s appearance distracting and disarming. He seemed interested and understanding, but that was it.”īallard watched as the boy’s eyes intensified, widening to reveal more of the blue, crystalline pools. Something that he shielded with his model-like good looks, perfect posture, and good grooming.Įlder Edward’s face, naturally a pinky pale hue, began to redden around his temples and cheeks. And Ballard could see there was something behind the boy’s clear, blue eyes he was holding on to.
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Every young missionary was taught well by men like him how to speak with moral conviction.
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Still, President Ballard was too keen to fall for the lines. He could have run for office, he was so well rehearsed.
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“Never.” Edwards continued to dole out the standard line about childhood discretion, little innocent exploration here and there, but holding firm to his rejection of his past sins and his journey toward piety. He barely heard the question before he was able to fire off the appropriate answer. “No.” It came out as emphatically as if he were rejecting Satan himself. After all, there was a paradoxical pride to be had in chaste humility. He knew to always confirm his short comings and be ready with corrective actions. “Yes,” Edwards answered with the confidence and strength of a well-trained missionary. “Have you had sexual fantasies of any kind?”
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This time, Ballard seemed singularly focused, something Edwards had not prepared for and didn’t fully know how to respond. And even now, as he sweated out President Ballard’s interrogation, he did not falter in those early lessons.Įlder Edwards was used to worthiness interviews, discussing with his local bishops and priesthood leaders his past sins, his repentance, and his diligent efforts to avoid them in the future. He’d been taught his whole life to always stay poised and confident and to present himself with the utmost attention to detail. Elder Edwards sat with his chest out, shoulders back against the chair, keeping his head held high.