Sacred Sins

Sacred Sins

Justin Azure

Copyright © 2015 Justin Azure

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, mechanical, electronic or by any other means including without written permission from the author and publisher except in the case of brief quotations for the purposes of articles and reviews.

Sacred Sins is a work of fiction. All characters, events, places and businesses are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, living or deceased, or places is purely coincidental and unintentional.

ISBN: 1517531381

ISBN-13: 978-1517531386

I dedicate this book to all my friends that helped me through my own rough times. I love you all.

CONTENTS

1. Suffering

2. The Saint

3. The Good Boy

4. The Youth Ministry

5. The Pastor's Son

6. A Tissue Addiction

7. Aunt Jenny and Her Special Friend

8. The New Deal

9. What I Can do to You

10. Repent for Salvation

11. So Long

12. Independence Day

13. The Heaven's Gates Gathering

14. It's Not a Date

15. Back to Work

16. A Day in Dallas

17. Whispering Softly

18. The Second Chance

19. Misfortune

20. Homecoming

21. All Christian Men

22. No Longer

23. Summer Setting

24. Sacred Sins

Chapter One - Suffering

Braden never thought he would miss boarding school until he found himself going home for what he hoped was the final time. Sitting in the back seat of his father's car in uncomfortable silence only made him more eager to leave for college, but he would have to endure the entire summer vacation alone. His friends were all over the world, enjoying their vacations with the families that loved them. Braden would have to suffer through a long and hot summer with only his mother and the Colonel for company.

I can't even remember the last time we were here, the Colonel said. He was Braden's father, but Braden never thought of him that way. He was always the Colonel, never dad nor even father. He was a distant man; a man of few words and few memories of his son. Braden didn't dislike him, he simply had no opinion toward him. It's hard to have an opinion of a person who was barely an acquaintance, even if he was biologically Braden's father.

I think the last time we came here when Braden was ten, dear, Braden's mother said. Outwardly, she appeared to be a loving mother and devoted wife. No matter where she was going, she always dressed her conservative best. Unlike his father, Braden's mother left lasting impressions on him.

We were here two summers ago, Braden grumbled to himself. Sure, it was just Braden and his mother that summer, but the Colonel stopped by for a few days. It just showed Braden how little interest his parents had in him.

Braden, on the other hand, couldn't forget that summer. Every second was torture. It was hot and humid. Since his parents refused to get air conditioning, Braden had to suffer through it. As a child, Braden didn't mind the heat. He always found things to do, but he was sixteen and bored out of his mind. That was the summer that Braden learned isolation.

When he wasn't at boarding school, he lived at one of two houses his parents owned. His favorite was the house in the suburbs of New York. There were always places to go and things to do there. His best friend, Jade, also lived there. Jade was Braden's partner in crime since they were little. Even after he was sent to boarding school, they stayed in touch. He loved his visits to what he thought of as his real home, but that's wasn't where Braden was going.

Instead, his parents thought that it would be better to spend their summer in the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma. Between the heat and the smell of cattle, Braden couldn't think of a worse place to spend his last summer of freedom and first summer as an adult. He didn't know anybody there and knew that there was nothing to do for fun.

What was that, Braden?the Colonel asked in his normal angered tone.

We were here two summers ago, Sir, Braden said, trying to pass off his previous grumbles as the Colonel's age affecting his hearing. Braden look at the Colonel's reflection with and innocent expression. Under toned grumblings weren't tolerated by the Colonel. With more than twenty years in the military, he expected his son to sound off when he spoke.

That's right, the Colonel said, choosing to ignore Braden's undertones. This time, I'll be here the whole time. He looked over to his wife and held her hand. I promise, he added, looking lovingly into her eyes.

Braden was expected to appreciate the Colonel's gesture, but he was apathetic, believing in what he could see rather than promises. The Colonel lived and breathed the military. He claimed that he was retiring, but Braden suspected something else. There were whispers between the Colonel and Braden's mother late at night. It had been going on for years, but they didn't speak about it with Braden. Pretending that the Colonel was finally retiring was better than asking him why he was leaving his greatest passion behind.

Braden, his mother said, turning around to face him, I think you'll love it here. I've been speaking with Pastor Townsend. He says that there's plenty of room for you in the youth ministry this summer.

Again Braden was expected to delight in what his parents planned for him, and yet again Braden pretended. The last thing Braden wanted was to spend his summer spreading God's word. If he was going to hate his summer, then he wanted to do it alone.

Thanks, Ma, Braden said with a forced smile.

If the Colonel's life was the military, Braden's mother's life was the church. Her answer to every single problem in life was prayer. Braden often joked that he got the Jesus approved life lessons. Even when Braden was miles away from his family at school, his mother called every Sunday to make sure he had gone to service. He had, of course, attended service every Sunday. Braden knew it was easier to tell the truth rather than making up a fake sermon to discuss with his mother.

You're very welcome, his mother said. I think Pastor Townsend's son is about your age. He's part of the youth ministry too. Maybe you two will be friends.

Sounds great, Ma, Braden said. His cheeks started aching from forcing smiles. He really wanted to say, Hell no! or I'm not doing it, but that would incur the wrath of the Colonel or worse. It was easier for him to secretly hate his life and do as he was told.

Braden waited for his mother to look forward before he finally relaxed his cheek muscles. He went back to looking out his window at the passing farms. His parents continued talking about their mutual interests, mainly, how proud they were that Braden was going to West Point to follow in his father's footsteps. That was another decision that was made for him.

The Colonel graduated from West Point, so Braden was expected to do the same. The truth was that going to a military school was the only thing that Braden thought he should argue against. He loathed the idea of committing to the military like the Colonel. To Braden, West Point was more of a prison than a college. Braden had other interests in life. His dreams were something that he could never share with his parents. If he ever spoke his mind, he would undoubtedly cause a rift between his parents and himself.

I hate this place, Braden thought to himself as they passed yet another cattle farm.

No matter how many times they visited their Oklahoma house, Braden could never figure out how far or near they were to the house. All the streets and all the farms looked exactly the same to him. Time seemed to slow down whenever Braden was in the middle of nowhere. His isolation only exacerbated the crawling pace of time. Even thinking about the summer ahead was enough to leave him depressed and sullen.

Here we are, the Colonel announced when they passed the last farm and turned onto their street. Braden looked out his window at the blue two story house that was to be his summer prison. If Braden had to define depression, it was being stuck with his family in that house. That sense of the inescapable dark void consumed him the moment he laid eyes on the house.

Braden, the Colonel said to him, bring your bags to your room and get washed up. Your mother will start dinner. It wasn't unusual for the Colonel to decide things for his family. Normally, he told Braden and his mother what to do. They had grown so used to hearing orders that they had become numb to it.

Lucky for Braden, all he had to do was bring his bags up to his room. His parents had already sent their clothes ahead of them or else Braden would have the unenviable job of carting all the boxes from the car up to his parents' room.

Braden went straight to his room. Dust floated about in the rays of sun, bringing back childhood horrors of visiting that room. The dust was his only friend in that house; at least it listened better than both his parents. Braden flopped onto his bed and looked around the room he thought of as his prison cell. There were no posters, no TV, no computer or anything that would make living there easier. It was just a dusty, unadorned room with a bed and a dresser.

Braden dug through his bags for his only treasure. Outwardly, it was nothing but a spiral notebook. Plain, unadorned and tattered. Braden liked it that way. If his mother ever found it, she would pass over it thinking it was any other notebook. Braden hid it under his mattress for a later date. He knew that the notebook was going to be the only thing to keep him sane throughout the awful summer.

This sucks, Braden moaned before burying his face in his pillow.

Chapter Two – The Saint

It was so nice of the Connors to invite us over for dinner, Andrew's mother commented as her husband drove to the Connors house. Andrew had been to hundreds of dinners before, but never one with another person his own age.

Andrew knew very little about the Connors. He knew that the father was a Colonel in the army and that Ms. Connors was a religious homemaker. His parents told him that they were from New York and that they had visited Andrew's hometown many years ago. Although Andrew knew he was obligated to meet them, the one that he actually wanted to know about was their son Braden.

His father and mother had mentioned the Connors since the summer started. In years past, they had mentioned them as well, but the Connors rarely spent time in their little town. Andrew wanted to find at least one person in their town that he could talk to. Although his classmates had always been pleasant around him, Andrew found himself friendless. People were polite to him just because he was the pastor's son, but didn't trust him because of that. Andrew was never invited over for parties or any social gathering with his own peers.

Andrew made the best of his situation despite finding it hard to make friends. His summers were the time to make up for lost connection. The church always provided a way for him to meet people, even if it wasn't exactly what his parents had in mind.

So, Andrew asked, breaking his silence, they have a son too? Have you met him yet?

Not yet, Andrew's father said. But I hear that he's going to follow in his father's footsteps just like you.

Andrew had already committed to becoming a pastor just like his father. He had been accepted to seminary and even took classes to be a youth minister. His parents couldn't be more proud of him for wanting to be like his father. Andrew assumed that the Connors were the same way.

He wants to help you with the youth ministry, Andrew's mother said.

Great, Andrew replied. It's been so hard to get people to sign up.

Andrew had spent many hours trying to start up the youth ministry. He expected to do it alone. The entire idea was predicated upon him doing it by himself, but he had never had problems adjusting before. Having a second hand meant that he could operate the way he wanted and leave the more tedious work to his helper. Andrew could focus on his larger goals as long as he had the proper help.

I know, Andrew's father said. Our small congregation is shrinking by the day.

Andrew had noticed that as well. His father had been the pastor there for only a few years, but he was still thought of as new. Many of the congregation had left for other churches in the area, leaving them with only the most devout elderly members. Andrew dreaded the day far off in the future when he was to inherit his father's empty church. With no congregation, there was no church.

Andrew, his father said to him, I hear that the Connors boy is having trouble making friends here. I hope you'll become friends. Community is very important.

Andrew knew the feeling, but wondered what was wrong with the mysterious boy that he couldn't make friends. Andrew wondered if he just preferred to be alone or if he was the