Chapter 3 The Church

The old 1985 Honda Civic continued driving down the old but busy business district streets of Greenfield as this fuming furnace of a vehicle on a hot summer day continued to make the whole Johnson family more miserable.

"Can we roll down the windows in the back?" begged Curtis as he sobbed, his 7 year old body miserable in sweat as he sat in his badly fitting dress clothes, tie and dress shorts.  The long broken air conditioner was really proving to me more than just a little annoyance. 

"No Curtis!" declared Dean impatiently.  "You know better than that!"

Curtis continued whimpering in misery from the back seat of the car with Grandma and Justin.  He left his hand on the old manual window crank lever, sadly pretending like he was allowed to crank down the window.

"Curtis," moaned Naomi sympathetically, "Those windows don't roll up and down very good anymore and they might break in the down position.  What will we do if it rains later or something?"

Curtis started crying again. 

Justin just sat there in misery as he clearly sympathized with his brother now, totally hot and sweaty as well.  Curtis began to reach for the neck of his clip-on tie.

"No Curtis!" scolded Naomi angrily as she peered to the back seat and saw Curtis' sweaty hands go for his tightly clipped on tie.

"But I'm getting too hot in my tie and dress shirt!" wept Curtis in humid agony.

"But your aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy are 'gonna want to see you all dressed up!" scolded grandma in shock to both boys.   Curtis continued crying as his tight too-small dress shirt began to feel like as toaster oven in the hot car, not to mention the tight clip-on tie choking his neck.

Justin was miserable as well, only he couldn't remove his tie as easily as Curtis could have.  As the old Honda drove past a few aging blocks of light industrial and construction related businesses, they came to a railroad crossing.  It was currently clear, but Dean stopped the car at the crossing bucks line anyways.  Justin couldn't understand why his dad had stopped the car.  Dean quickly looked both ways down the track, or what he could see of it. 

"Dad!" objected Justin.  "Why are we stopping !?  There's no train coming!"

Indeed there was no train coming and the other cars around were bewildered at the behavior of the old white 1985 Honda Civic.

The car behind them angrily honked on their horn a couple of times as Justin peered back to see at least half a dozen cars directly behind them on the road.  Curtis began to whimper again.

"But there is a train coming now," announced Dean, having just seen one in the distance heading down the tracks.

"But hurry then before the lights and the gate come down!" pleaded Justin, wanting to get to the church and get on with the day as quickly as possible so they could get out of the miserably hot car. 

"I think you boys can learn some patience," Dean nagged coldly from the front of the car, refusing to press forward.

"I think that's a good idea," snarled Naomi bitterly to her boys as at once the red lights on the Railroad Crossing signs began flashing and ringing, and the gate began coming down. 

"Dad!" whined Justin angrily.  Curtis began crying loudly again.  The car behind them honked their horn again in understandable frustration at what Dean had just done.  The flashing gates came all the way down as the railroad crossing sign lights red lights blinked on and off, on and off, and on and off.  Justin peered out the side window as best he could to see the train that was coming.  To his disgust, Justin saw it was a very long train chugging along slower than molasses. 

"Dad!" whined Justin, "This is all just a big waste now!"  Curtis just continued crying. 

"No it is not!" snapped Dean angrily.  "The waste is you boys just doing your piddle things in your rooms!  You need to focus on the important things like seeing your aunts and helping out at the church where we are going." 

                Justin sunk in his hot seat in disappointment as the train finally reached the crossing and chugged along at the speed of a senior citizen jogging.   Normally both Justin and Curtis liked seeing the trains go by, but not today!  Today the train was a bitter menace!  Justin looked at the crossing signs in boredom- though he had always liked road signs to a degree.  In the Republic of Reimar, the railroad crossing bucks were white outlined in red with "Railroad Crossing" written in all-capital bright red letters.  The gates were striped black and white with red flashing lights, and the crossing bucks were tilted at a low angle so the 'x" was a somewhat horizontal rectangular shape. 

They sat, and they sat, and they sat in the miserably hot car as the train slowly, slowly, slowly chugged along.  It must have been fifteen minutes now , though Justin was not really watching the radio clock display.  The clock on the radio that Dean only listened to when in the car when it was him by himself, or occasionally when with the boys but not Naomi.  Naomi said the radio was just "for the weather" and would not risk the boys hearing any "satanic" rock and roll music when flipping through stations.   

"Can we turn on the radio?" pleaded Justin.  "I'm bored."

"No!" snapped Dean angrily. 

Justin thought to himself what he could do.  He couldn't reach the old radio dial from where he was at in the back seat, but he knew his mom was naive and did not know how to work the radio. 

"Mom?" asked Justin.

"Yes?!" grumbled Naomi bitterly.

"Can you press the button marked 'power' on the dashboard next to the radio?  I can't reach it from back here," asked Justin as innocently as possible. 

"But what's it for?" Naomi asked suspiciously

Dean stayed silent.

"Mom!" whined.  'Just do it, please!"

Naomi let out a tired sign as she pressed the 'power' button.

At once, the blare of a well known early '80s rock song filled the whole vehicle.  For maybe a fraction of a second, Justin had his way.  But at once, Naomi began wailing in horror.  "No, no, no!" she screamed.  "Turn it off, turn it off!" waving her hands around frantically not knowing what to do with the radio controls.  Curtis was also crying, having hated rock music of any kind.  "oh no, oh no!" gasped Grandma in desperation to get the music off. 

Dean furiously pressed the power button back off. and brought Justin's plans to an abrupt halt.

"That rock and roll music was awful!" wailed Naomi in a frantic moan.

"Maybe for you!" disagreed Justin bitterly.

"Perhaps you don't understand Justin," gasped Grandma frantically.  "That music, those drums you see will put you into a trance, and cause you to fall down before Satan and his demons!"

"Drum's aren't bad," objected Justin.

"Justin!" scolded Naomi furiously.  "Don't you defy your grandmother while she speaks wisdom to you!"

Curtis began laughing as he began mock-singing what he thought were the lyrics to the song he heard. 

Justin sneered in disgust of Curtis' mocking.

Grandma immediately and furiously slapped Curtis on the back of the head with the palm of her hand, bringing Curtis' singing to a halt.

"Curtis!" grouched Dean angrily.  "You don't need to sing it either!"  Curtis was still in shock from the brutal slap on the back of his little head.

"But  I was just making fun of it!" protested Curtis, his head still stinging a bit.

"That doesn't matter!" disagreed Dean firmly.  "That music shall not be on your lips!"

"No more songs of Satan for anyone!"  declared Grandma boldly. 

Curtis grouched in disappointment as the train continued on and on. 

"What hypocrisy!" thought Justin to himself angrily as he knew perfectly well his Dad would listen to 1970s and 1980s light rock, disco, and pop music in secret from Naomi and Grandma and certainly the other leaders in the church.  He thought about now tattling on him, but decided against it because he too liked to hear it when the others weren't around.  He thought about what to say next. 

"But what about Christian rock?" protested Justin, knowing some people who talked about this.

"Justin, there is no such thing!" snapped Naomi angrily.

"But there is!" disagreed Justin.

"Not if it has drums and those hideous electric guitars or whatever in it!" ranted Naomi furiously.  "You cannot praise God with drums and cymbals." 

"If you want to sing to God, you must use the piano and the organ," declared Grandma to Justin.  "It's with these instruments that God has blessed the Church with today."

"But  instruments aren't good or bad in and of themselves I don't think!" protested Justin.  "Isn't it just the words that make a song good or bad?"

"Blasphemy!" declared Dean furiously at Justin.

"I think you can make do with the old hymns!" nagged Naomi bitterly to him.

Once again, Justin sighed and figured he had better end this conversation.

Justin looked out the window as best he could to see if there was any end in sight to the slow moving train.  As best he could tell, there was none yet.

Grandma looked over at Justin.

"What are you looking at now, Justin?" she asked nosily. 

"I'm trying to see if the train is going to end yet," sighed Justin loudly in depression. 

"How about you try and use this time to focus on your patience, and not look up and down those tracks," said Grandma warily. 

Naomi then looked back at Justin.  "The train will be over when it's over," grouched Naomi at him.

Justin sat there in bitter unhappiness as did Curtis.  No freedom to even look up and down the tracks, thought Justin to himself.

The train continued on for a few more minutes as Justin bitterly sat there in this hot car, his anger fuming as hot as the car itself!  Finally, Justin peered out the window again and saw the end of the train.  "At last!" he thought to himself. 

"Hey!" nagged Grandma angrily to Justin.  "I thought we had agreed you weren't going to peek at the tracks out of impatience!"

"But I just saw the end of the train!" exclaimed Justin in excitement. 

"Yay!" declared Curtis in unbearable relief.

Naomi loudly signed to herself bitterly.  "You boys should not have an attitude of glimmer towards the train passing!" declared Naomi angrily.  "That was not a time to be angry and impatient but a time for reflection as we sat there by the tracks!  We were giving you time to repent of your awful behavior in McDonalds today!"

Justin angrily sat there in his seat making no reply as Curtis fell silent as well.  The word "glimmer" always had to be brought up over and over again, thought Justin to himself furiously.   The word and meaning of which was propriety to the Messianic Authoritarians of course.

Within seconds, the train had cleared the crossing and the gates had started to raise themselves up.

"Yes!" Curtis exclaimed happily.

"Curtis!" nagged Naomi furiously.  "I've heard enough out of you!"

Curtis whimpered to himself quietly as Dean reluctantly and slowly put the old car back into the drive gear and rode over the bumpy tracks.  It felt a godsend just to be moving, thought Justin to himself.  Dean slowly drove down the busy street, the other cars impatiently tailgating them. 

"I think the other cars are wanting to get around us," commented Justin.

"I think they could use some patience too!" declared Naomi proudly.  Justin sneered in disgust to himself at this remark, as all of them were sweating miserably in this nasty old hot car.  Dean drove along at a very slow 25 miles an hour when the Reimarian speed limit sign clearly said "Maximum Speed 45 MPH."  Speed limit signs in the Republic of Reimar were white vertical rectangles outlined in thick red borders with the aforementioned lettering and varying speed in all black caps. 

"The maximum speed  is 45!" complained Justin, having seen the sign.  "Why are we going just 25 miles and hour!?"

"To teach you and everyone else some patience as we go to the church in piety and reflection!" yelled Dean bitterly.

Everyone remained quiet as the car continued driving down the busy four lane city street in this old industrial zoned area.  Justin began looking out the window in boredom at the sidewalks to see if he could see any pretty scantily dressed ladies out.  One young muscular guy jogging in short gym shorts and no shirt was the only person he saw out on this particular block.  Somewhat disappointed, Justin figured he might see more people out when they got to a more residential or business area of Harveyville. 

Dean slowly sped up to around 35 miles an hour as traffic became less congested.   Indeed as Justin had hoped, the lonely and ugly industrial zoned area gave way to a more residential housed area.  Justin began peering out his car door window again, hoping to see pretty girls out this hot, hot day.  Along a row of older homes he saw a kiddy pool out with around 5 little boys running around in just their swimming trunks, but no teenage girls. 

"What are you looking at now?" nagged Grandma to Justin again!  "Oh no!" thought Justin to himself.

"Why do you always have to ask that?" asked Justin, clearly annoyed.  "First by the railroad tracks, and now by just a bunch of old houses?"

"Justin!" scolded Naomi from the front seat.  "Grandma asked a fair question.  We all need to stay accountable so we are not going after the lusts of our own eyes in anything we may see."

Justin bitterly bowed his head as he sat in the boiling hot back seat of the car.

"I was just looking at the um...various styles of these old homes," quickly lied Justin to his grandma.

"Oh really?" asked Grandma nosily.

"Yeah," replied Justin instantly.  "I'm wanting to get a look at different architectural styles so I can use them in my drawings."

Both Naomi and Grandma stared at Justin in slight bewilderment.  Curtis just kind of looked on in the misery of the heat of the car. 

"Justin, I hope you're not having feelings of discontentment about the home we have to live in now," declared Naomi to Justin in her soothing voice.  "I hope you're not going to use these drawings or whatever to greedily wish for a fancier home or something.  It is wrong to scheme to become wealthier than what God has allotted to you in the present time."

Justin again sighed to himself unhappily.  While his lie about home styles deflected off the fact that he was girl watching, even the homes comment got "worldliness" condemnations from his mother!  Holy cow, he might as well have just admitted to trying to girl-watch! 

As the car drove down the busy four lane street going through this old residential area of old one story homes and duplexes, Justin again began looking out his car window trying to see who was walking along the sidewalks, if anyone.  Silence filled the car as Justin soon recognized this neighborhood as being near their family's church.  Harold Street Messianic Authoritarian Church would only be a handful of blocks away.  Justin looked out the window and saw out three blocks ahead what looked to be two teenage girls walking down the street though he couldn't really see any details yet.

Naomi saw Justin continue to glare out the window, though she hadn't noticed the teens out walking up those blocks ahead yet. 

"Justin- I think you can keep your eyes in the car!" ordered Naomi angrily. 

"I think that's a good idea!" declared Grandma. 

Justin defiantly continued looking out the window,  just as he could faintly begin to see up ahead these were two teenage girls wearing bikini top, old cutoff jeans shorts and flip flops. 

"Justin!" screamed Naomi furiously as she angrily glared at him.  Justin reluctantly looked at his mom, who had turned her head around from the front seat to look at him. 

"Justin, you need to obey your mother here," added Dean firmly. 

"But why!" pouted Justin.  "I'm hot and bored back here!"

"Because you need to focus on God and not the things of this world!" barked Naomi bitterly.  "And that goes for you too Curtis!"

Curtis winched in misery as he too was trying to look over the windows as best as he could being sandwiched in the back seat between Justin and Grandma.    Justin bitterly and angrily bowed his head to the floor of the car as he felt his dad slowly turn the car to the left and onto the familiar residential side street that would take them most of the way to the church in this old neighborhood. 

Justin sighed to himself bitterly as he kept his head down and starred at the floor of the old and dirty Honda.  Forget the fact that he was desperately hot and thirsty- He literally had no freedom to even look out the windows!  He knew there were kids his age and younger who would roam these old streets and sidewalks near his family's church, but no- he was forbidden to even look out the windows so he decided to keep his head down.   As the car moved along down the residential street, Justin thought about the old little neighborhood park that was nearby the church. 

He began trying to daydream about pretty young teenage girls his age or a tad younger out on the streets or at that park, walking by in bikini tops on this hot day. 

"Justin!" Nagged Naomi from the front seat once again.  "What are you thinking about!"

"My thoughts are my own private business!" bitterly ranted Justin back to his mother.

"No!" disagreed Dean angrily.  "We are to take every thought captive to Christ, and as such your thoughts are not merely your own private business!"

Justin in utter humiliation lifted his head up to sit straight forward in the car. 

"Justin," ordered Naomi bitterly.  "You can sit forward, look forward, not looking to the right, left, or back of this car as you were when lusting after the McDonalds sign earlier.  You can think about your piety before God and Jesus and not think about worldly lusts or other things!"

Justin did so with an angry heart, as he noticed that thankfully they were only a couple more blocks from the next and final turn towards Harold Street where the church was on.  Justin looked to his right to see his grandmother glaring at him suspiciously.  Justin kept his head forward, trying to stare out the front windshield as best he could from the back seat. 

Justin decided to just close his eyes as he kept his head foreword.  He wouldn't be able to sneak a peek at anything outside but he wouldn't have to see his mother and grandmother angrily glaring at him either.

"Justin!" yelled Naomi furiously.  "Keep those eyes open!  I don't want you daydreaming about worldly things!"

Justin bitterly opened his eyes, trying with all his might not to lash a bitter rant back at his mother.

"Well said Naomi!," praised grandma as she too then suspiciously watched  Justin's eyes. 

The car got to Harold Street, where they turned right in this declining old residential neighborhood of older small homes and aging cars.  This was a mostly working class white neighborhood though it was slowly starting to get even dumpier as the years went by.  Grandma glared at Justin as they turned around this corner.

"I see those eyes moving boy!" nagged Grandma bitterly at Justin.

"But we were going around the corner!" protested Justin as Dean completed the turn onto Harold Street. 

"Justin!" scolded Naomi.  "After you're disobedience, Grandma is right to guard your eyes for you!"

Justin just wanted to cry out of bitter humiliation and tyranny!  He just wanted to get to the church and get this little trip over with! 

The car drove down a few more familiar blocks as both Naomi and Grandma looked right at Justin's eyes suspiciously as Justin bitterly held still until the old Honda approached Harold Street Messianic Authoritarian Church. 

This old church was on a corner and was an old two story building originally built in the 1880s.  Grey stones were the main building material of this church.  The sanctuary had two large stained glass windows  which faced the corners of the streets of which it was on.  A decorative and still-functioning bell tower was on top of the roof, and out in front along Harold Street was the old church sign.  It read "Harold Street Messianic Authoritarian Church" in old English script with "Pastor Dean Johnson" lettered on the sign beneath it along with "Church Service 10:30; Sunday School 9:00." 

The Old 1985 Honda Civic pulled into the badly cracked but paved church parking lot beside the church.  Justin noticed an aging  1985 Dodge Caravan Minivan also sitting in the parking lot along with a fairly nice and new red sedan.   The old minivan was white with accented imitation wooden siding, yet was ugly with rust and dints.  Justin knew this old minivan!  His uncle Vern Frank was there!  The newer shiny red car was unknown to him.  Dean stopped the car and parked it.  Justin was quite unhappy about seeing his Uncle's van there- this robbed him of whatever relief getting to the church had meant earlier!

Curtis was about to open the door.

"Wait!" called out Dean to Curtis.  Curtis grouched unhappily.  "Uncle Vern is here so you need to be on your best behavior," announced Dean coldly. 

"Uncle Vern is here checking up on things in dad's office as well as visiting to some potential converts who might be joining our church," spoke up Naomi soothingly.  "That's what this strange red car is doing here I think."

Justin would love it if some other people with kids would join their church, as would Curtis.  Justin and Curtis were the only people much younger than 40 in his parent's church, save for one fat badly behaved boy about Curtis' age who only came every so often.   Of about 60 people in this church (on a full Sunday when most people were there) nearly 50 of them were well over retirement age, and the lion's share of these were old widowed ladies.  There were a few middle aged couples a little bit older than his parents age but that was it- no other kids, no teenagers, and no young adults of marriageable age.   The church had declined drastically over the years and decades with no sign of revival, and Dean saw it as his mission to minister to this dying flock by trying to keep the traditions alive and bring back memories of the days of yore. 

"Does this visiting couple have any kids?" asked Justin nosily, all of them still sitting in the hot car. 

"I don't think so, Justin," answered Naomi sadly.  "We haven't had any kids join our church in a very, very, very long time."

Dean opened his door and began getting out of this car.  All of them followed suit as once again, even the hot muggy air of this miserable summer day was a relief compared to the furnace of the old car's interior.  Walking out into the old church parking lot, Curtis immediately came up to his brother and whispered in his ear, "When we get inside, I need to go to the bathroom and get a drink from the sink!"

"Okay," whispered Justin back, as he obviously had no objections to him doing this.  Justin thought he might better do this himself after Curtis was done. 

"What are you two doing!" scolded Grandma furiously, having seen the two boys whisper at each other.

"Curtis was just talking to me about how his hot clothes itch," lied Justin.

"You need to stop your complaining Curtis!" yelled Naomi as they all started heading for the back door to the church.  Getting up to the back door of the old rugged building, Dean opened the unlocked door and they all began going down the dank hallway.  There was no substantial air conditioner on in here, noticed Justin to himself in disgust.  Naomi, Dean and Grandma walked onto another short hallway where Dean's church pastor's office and study were.  Justin and Curtis stood out in the hall, the adults  anxious to catch up with Vern Frank and whoever else might be here in the church building.  

Curtis was about to make his break to the all-familiar church men's bathroom when he and Justin suddenly saw their uncle come down the hallway to greet them.  Justin was disgusted but tried to maintain some posture to this obnoxious relative he really did not like.  Uncle Vern was church Dean, as well as Naomi's brother in law- her sister Martha's husband.   He was the leader of the entire Messianic Authoritarian "denomination", around 3,000 people scattered over nearly 40 congregations.  Vern was here, needless to say micromanaging his Dad's church and probably visiting with the potential converts. 

52 year old Vern Frank was a somewhat tall and very skinny man.  He had the bony face of scowl and judgment, and balding grey hair in three separate, awkward looking bald spots.  He was nearly frail looking with his skinny build- except his fat belly made him literally look like a pregnant woman about to give birth any day!  His grotesquely unattractive physique was not helped by the fact that his tan dress slacks had been several sizes too small to accommodate his fat belly, and Justin's aunt Martha had widened them by making two large cuts down the hips from the waistline and sewn in random colored flannel cloth as a filler!  The result was Justin had to try and not snicker at his uncle's pathetic pants' situation.  It made his motley collection of patched jeans seem almost paradise by comparison!  Vern currently had on a plaid short sleeve dress shirt and a black belt loosely buckled onto his slacks.  He wore an old pair of brown dress shoes.

Vern saw the two boys enter the second hallway and walked up to them.

"My children, my childen!" he soothed passionately.  "What thou doist this holy Saturday!" 

Justin was angry so he wanted to give an arrogant answer.

"We went to McDonalds uncle Vern," declared Justin with enthusiasm. 

Vern frowned to himself in obvious disapproval of this, as Justin heard him groan.

"But my parents wouldn't let me get ice cream, my real pop spilled and I had to share everything with grandma!" wept Curtis in agony.

Uncle Vern's face quickly turned to his usual judgmental fury, as he looked down at Curtis as he raised his pointed index finger. 

"I have only been to McDonalds or any other eating restaurant once in the last 10 years and that was just for a small drink!"  yelled uncle Vern with passionate anger.  Curtis got incredibly frightened. 

Justin looked at his uncle with shock.

"When was that Uncle Vern?" asked Justin nervously.  "When was that last time to McDonalds for you?"

"It was the late summer of 1989," recalled Vern with a soothing voice.  Curtis calmed down somewhat as he listened to his uncle's story.  "It was a very hot summer day and I was out going to various stores looking for...used folding chairs for our church headquarters.   I was wearing my white polo and my itty bitty short shorts."  Justin sneered in disgust at this as he knew his uncle was trying to tell him that short shorts were the only shorts acceptable to men, in order to avoid the "worldly" baggy shorts worn by "gang members."

"I mean it was a very hot summer day, at least as hot as today," recalled uncle Vern with passion.   "I looked everywhere and everywhere for any drinking fountains for just water for my mouth but there were none!  Then finally I relented!  I gave into temptation!  I saw a crowded McDonalds and decided I would...wait in line.  After standing for so long, I got up to the counter and had thought about asking for a free water when suddenly I remembered the headache that Satan had given me!"

"Why do you think Satan had given you that particular headache?" asked Justin.

"Because of what I am about to say!" stammered Uncle Vern furiously.    "I thought about my carnal desire for something with caffeine in it such as iced tea or even pop, and there I did it!" soothed Vern emotionally.  "I gave into temptation and ordered a small drink!  I mean it was a small drink, it might even have been a child's size!"

"What kind of pop was it?" asked Justin nervously.

"I think it might have been...Diet Coke," recalled Uncle Vern who couldn't quite remember for sure.

"Curtis and I got Sprite today," commented Justin.

"But don't you understand what I did was wrong!?' yelled Vern furiously.  "My drink soothed my thirst, yet then I remembered the story of Jesus being tempted by turning stones into bread in the wilderness by Satan!  I knew I had failed, and sure enough my wife confronted me about the missing 47 cents!" 

Justin and Curtis kept nervously listening to their Uncle Vern's story.

"She wept at me and justifiably so for I had spent the Lord's money on my selfish wants on worldly fast food!" declared Uncle Vern.  "It was a rocky road in our holy marriage!"

"But I don't see what the big deal is!" protested Justin.

"Justin!" yelled uncle Vern loudly.  "We went to McDonalds before this only for your Uncle Richard's wedding!"  Indeed Justin had seen the photographs in his mother's old photo album of his uncle's wedding party going out to McDonalds, which included his parents before he and Curtis were born.  Everyone was in their wedding clothes from the dress rehearsal and this was the rehearsal dinner!

"I want you to consider that before you brag, let alone complain about a random trip to McDonalds or any other eating restaurant for no special reason other than it being a hot day!" ranted Uncle Vern angrily.   "You need to remember that....ye!!"   Uncle Vern would often burst out into old English when angry about something of a piety or religious nature. 

"But my mom said this would be a good way to finish off the summer before school starts on Monday!" begged Justin, trying not to whimper with agony himself. 

Uncle Vern immediately pointed his index finger at Justin with unmistakable fury.  "I will deal with that mother of yours!" cursed Vern at Justin with a self-righteous grimace.  Justin immediately regretted bringing this up.  "Now they would never eat out again...ever!" thought Justin sadly to himself. 

"But you went to McDonalds too!," whimpered Curtis, trying not to sob with fright. 

"I sinned!" roared Vern with anger.  "So did you!"

Vern immediately walked off from the two boys in storming fury, presumably towards Dean's study.  Justin whispered into Curtis' ear.  "If you need to get a drink from the sink, now would be the time,"  Justin spoke quietly into his brother's eardrum.  Curtis immediately trotted off towards the men's bathroom.  Justin quietly decided to slowly walk towards his dad's "Pastor's Study" where he was guessing everyone else was.    Justin hoped his brother would finish soon so he too could go into the restroom and take a drink from the sink.  Having both of them in there at the same time might arouse suspicion from the other adults, he reasoned. 

The hallway was old and dark, but he could see the room light and hear multiple voices coming from his dad's somewhat large office room.    Justin walked down the hall, still feeling hot and embarrassed in his grimy dress shirt, ugly big necktie and his bitterly hated tiny dress short shorts.  He could clearly hear his uncle Vern talking loudly in the study as he approached the large wooden door, the old sign marked "Pastor's Study." 

Justin nervously cracked open the door and saw people.  Naomi saw Justin peeking through the partially opened door, and quietly motioned with her hand for him to come in.  Justin immediately did so with quietness as he quickly looked around the room to see who all was there.  

The old office had a heavy wooden desk that his dad used, covered in papers and pens and books.  In front of the desk were two large chairs that were used for people meeting with the pastor.  Behind that was a large old black and white copy machine used exclusively for printing service bulletins, and away from the two chairs was an old padded bench that other visitors could use as extra seating.  Behind the desk were glass-doored bookshelves that were old and antique.   In these were dozens of old theological books that the Messianic Authoritarian church had approved of.  Overall, the room was old and rather worn down, and the ceiling light illuminated the room brightly.   

However, Justin noticed the different people here today.  Uncle Vern's daughter, his cousin Deborah was sitting at his dad's desk writing what appeared to be a large stack of greeting cards or something like that.  She was 26 years old, light skinned with short brown hair.  She was of medium build but had a grotesquely fat belly like her mother or uncle Vern.  Justin had always found his older female cousin to be a bit snotty and stern, and she had always been a brainwashed follower of the church dress rules.  As such she wore her white bonnet cap pinned to her head and a plain patterned blue short sleeved calf length dress.  She wore plain tennis shoes and short socks on her feet.  Uncle Vern was standing beside her by the desk.  Dean and Naomi were sitting on the old bench that had the ugly tan cushions on it.  His Aunt Martha, Uncle Vern's wife and his mother's younger sister was standing beside uncle Vern by the desk.  She was of naturally much more slender build than her sister Naomi, but she also had a giant fat belly like Vern or Deborah did.  Aunt Martha was dressed similarly to Deborah with her white bonnet cap pinned on top of her short dark brown hair.  Aunt Martha had large round oversized glasses she wore that Justin thought made her look very dorky.  Martha always thought she knew everything, and thought she was the second wisest person on earth next to Vern.  While Aunt Martha was the younger of the two sisters, Martha always thought she was now superior to Naomi because she thought she was married better.  Vern was several generational Messianic Authoritarian and Dean of the Church while Dean was a first generation Lamplighter convert and merely just a pastor of one small congregation.

   The two chairs in front of the desk were taken by the visiting couple from the red car parked outside.  The man wore a dress shirt, dress slacks, and more casual looking dress shoes.   The woman wore a dressy lilac colored blouse and a purple flowered knee length skirt with dress slippers.  The couple looked to be in their very late 50s- the  man was of medium build and had graying dark hair with a thick mustache.  The woman had shoulder length dark brown hair. 

Naomi signaled Justin to come sit by her and Dean on the bench.  Justin immediately did so, still glad to be out of the hot car but unhappy to be in his uncle Vern Frank's presence.  Curtis, he assumed was still in the bathroom. 

Justin naturally started listening to his Uncle Vern talk; Uncle Vern was always the dominating type who would rule any conversation in any group setting because in his own mind he was always right and knew more than everyone else did. 

"I will tell you why that car is such a big deal," ranted Vern to the prospecting couple as they awkwardly listened.  "The color red has always been a bold and arrogant color for dress attire and should be considered the same for picking out a vehicle.  Plus that car is too new and worldly to be a vehicle for a proper Christian to be driving!"

Justin signed to himself in disgust as the prospective couple became visibly quite uncomfortable in this church searching setting. 

"No wonder no one new has joined our church in years!" thought Justin to himself unhappily. 

"I have a neighbor who might be willing to sell us an old minivan," the visiting man politely offered.  "Are Messianic Authoritarians allowed to have minivans?  I saw an old one out in the parking lot."

Deborah immediately perked up from her writing.  "Yes, minivans," Deborah affirmed.  "Families with at least three children are allowed to have minivans."

The couple in the chairs sat there nervously stunned.  "Well, um..." the man stuttered.  "Our kids are all grown and out of the house now.  We do have five grandkids who could all ride on a trip with grandpa and grandma or..."

"Grandkids do not count," declared uncle Vern.  "Immediate household only, when considering vehicle needs!"

"Well you already told us no pickup trucks, no motorcycles, no sports cars, no coupes, and no RVs!," complained the man.

"That's because Christians need to really, really guard what amount of types and possessions they are to own so they won't fall into worldliness," blurted out Deborah unapologetically.  "'Authoritarian' simply means that the Church is authorized to make rules concerning these and other details of a person's life."

The man and his wife looked at each other awkwardly as they sat next to each other in the two large chairs across from the pastor's desk where Deborah was sitting.

"My wife's car is a black 1992 Toyota Camry," stated the man.  "Nothing fancy about that."

"Two problems," griped Uncle Vern at him.  "One, cars are supposed to be at least 10 years old for Christians to be allowed to own them in accordance with modest living!  Secondly, no household is permitted more than one vehicle at a time."  After all, in 1999 a car made in 1992 would be only seven years old.

The visiting man was dumbfounded! 

Justin simply was quietly very embarrassed about how the Franks were treating this visiting couple!  He began to have thoughts about what the church population demographics would look like 20 years from now if his Uncle kept this sort of thing up!

"But my wife works!" complained the man.  "We both have jobs, we need two cars!"

"Women are not permitted to work except under special circumstances as the church might dictate!,' scolded Vern furiously.  "Only one job or income per household, period!"

The couple again began to look more silently grouchy and isolated as they sat there.  Justin remembered about how his Uncle Richard's wife, Aunt Judy had gotten in trouble for secretly having a secretarial job that she was forced to quit after Uncle Vern found out about it.  That had about been three years ago, Justin thought.  

"If your wife would quit her job, that would deal with your little car problem then!," snapped Aunt Martha snobbishly. 

"Well," sighed the man sadly.  "At least my home is paid off.  My place is out towards the other side of Harveyville from here.  It's a modest but cozy house, I've owned the place for 20 years."

"Christians are not allowed to own their homes!" scolded Aunt Martha again. 

"Not this again!" thought Justin to himself angrily. 

"We are allowed to only rent our homes, and no you cannot be a landlord either!" continued ranting Aunt Martha. 

"But why is that!?" objected the man's wife in shock.

"Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head!" cursed his mother Naomi at this couple, remembering a Bible passage.  "If you want to glorify and be like Jesus, you must recognize Christians are to be wanderers on the earth and not own your homes like a king would his castle!"

The couple grouched their heads in bitter silence. 

"I'm assuming that if I were to sell both my cars, sell the house, my wife quit her job, and us move into a rental unit, you would have restrictions on what sort of place I would be allowed to rent?" asked the man, still trying to be polite in his composure. 

"Yes of course!," assured Deborah in somewhat shock.

"We can get to rental allowances for empty nester couples in a bit Deborah," instructed Vern to his daughter. 

"Well, can we get off the subject of all your lifestyle rules for a little bit and let me ask you what do Messianic Authoritarians actually believe?," asked the visiting man with somewhat of a whimper.  "You know, as in theology and stuff."

Deborah looked at the man somewhat funny.  "Well...lifestyle rules are very important to us," Deborah nervously said.  "If you want to get off the subject of the Church worldliness rules, then I'm not so sure how much we have to talk about then."

Justin sat there quietly, disappointed but rather unsurprised by Deborah's response.  

"Well, I'll start I guess," offered the man.

Everyone else gathered in the rather large pastor's quietly began listening to this potential convert. 

"I know this isn't your church I grew up in, but I grew up Methodist as a small child." explained the man.  All the adults somewhat glared at him with a polite disapproval.  "It wasn't my choice you know, what family you were born into- it's just the church I was raised in- like it or not. "

Everyone quietly continued listening to him.

"I'm no theologian or pastor or anything," continued the man, "but I do remember one thing.  A hymn that I remember singing in that church growing up as I child.  It went like this I think;

"Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe, my sin had left this crimson stain, he washed it white as snow."

"Jesus did not pay for it all!" yelled Aunt Martha furiously.  "He paid for part!" she stammered, fanatically gesturing with her hands.  "We must meet God half-way!  As Philippians 2 clearly teaches 'work out your own salvation with fear and trembling!'  We must earn our salvation!"

The couple looked both clearly disturbed by this as they nervously looked around at everyone else in the room. 

"This whole idea of God paying for simply everything on the cross and getting off scot-free, that's lazy-grace theology!" objected Grandma angrily.  Indeed, the church loved to use the phrase "lazy grace theology" like a broken record when condemning other churches.  Justin didn't understand all the implications of "lazy grace theology" but clearly understood that all churches outside the 3,000 member Messianic Authoritarian church community were blacklisted as "heathen" by Vern Frank and others. 

Just then, the door cracked open loudly.  Justin looked to see who was coming into his Dad's somewhat crowded pastor's study.  It was Curtis.  He briefly looked around the room at everyone who was here as everyone briefly glanced over at him as well.  Justin saw that he still had all his dress clothes and tie on but his face was somewhat wet.  Justin knew why the latter!

Vern glared at Curtis in mild disapproval as he saw him rush in the door.

"I had to go to the bathroom everyone!," declared Curtis in nervous half-truth as he felt everyone look at him. 

Justin then stood up.  "It's my turn to go to the bathroom now," he declared, his mouth desperately roasting for a drink of cold and wet anything- having politely held his urge this long. 

Dean glared at Curtis suspiciously. 

"Justin, Curtis- I need to talk to you boys out in the hall for a second!" declared Dean firmly.

"Oh no!" quietly cursed Justin to himself in agony.

Dean firmly escorted both boys out into the hallway as the others in the room awkwardly looked on.  Dean shut the door behind them, and the three of them were alone together in the old dimly lit hallway outside the noisy study. 

"Curtis!," grouched Dean furiously. 

Curtis fought to hold back the tears of fear as he whimpering looked up at his angry father.

"I saw the wetness on your mouth when you came in after being gone a long time in the bathroom!," Dean angrily scolded.  "Did you sneak a drink from the bathroom sink!?"

Curtis immediately began crying aloud. 

"But you wouldn't even let me have water at McDonalds after my real pop spilled!  I was very thirsty in there, and in the hot car!" he painfully wept.

"No!" objected Dean angrily.  "You knew that going without drink was punishment for your bad behavior in McDonalds!"

Curtis continued to cry loudly enough that everyone behind the door in the study probably clearly heard it. 

"You knew that you would not be allowed a drink of anything until we had given you the all clear!," Dean continued to rant, angrily pointing his finger at the frightened sobbing boy. 

Justin looked on awkwardly as Curtis just continued to sob loudly that it echoed down this whole dreary church hallway.

"Justin!," bitterly ordered Dean.  "Go back in the room- no bathroom until we get back home!"  Justin unhappily turned around to go back in the study, though he was relieved that no more punishment for him was immediately forthcoming.

"Curtis however!," announced Dean with a scolding fury, "You do get to go back to the bathroom- for a spanking!"  Curtis immediately screamed out at the top of his lungs as Dean started dragging the young boy down the hallway towards the men's bathroom.  Justin figured he had better get into the study quickly, as he opened the door to his dad's office and promptly joined the others back in the room. 

As Justin sat back down, the visiting man looked over at him with a smirk, interrupting Vern's endless talking. 

"Wow," he said to Justin.  "Sounds like your brother is in some trouble!"  Everyone could still faintly hear the echoes of Curtis loudly screaming from out in the halls.

"Yeah," responded Justin grumpily as he wondered how to say things.  "My brother Curtis is getting a spanking for not waiting to get home to get a drink of water, even though our car is hot as a furnace on this hot day," said Justin, deciding to covertly give this couple a bad impression of the church.

As Justin predicted, the man looked at him with a shock of disapproval. 

"Justin!" nagged Naomi with a furious whisper  at him. "No!"

"They don't let kids have water on a hot summer day!?" the man nervously tried to joke.  Naomi angrily covered her head with her hands in embarrassment over what Justin had said.

After a moment of awkward silence, Deborah went back to working on what appeared to be her stack of greeting cards.

"What's all those cards you're working on?" asked the visiting man pleasantly.

The visiting man, Justin had assumed, wanted to politely change the subject. 

"These are fundraising letters I'm getting paid to write in support of causes that are very, very dear to our church," replied Deborah quickly.  "The money will go to my mission trips so the church doesn't count it as a forbidden second source of income for our house."

"Can I see?" asked the man, as he got up out of his chair.  Justin began getting nervous as he knew the church could do some pretty strange things  as far as public statements and social stances.

The man walked up to Deborah and Justin decided he wanted to take a peek too.  As Justin got up, he saw the pile of creamy white note cards that were partially typed and partially handwritten by Deborah. He glanced down at one of them and saw what was written on it.  To Justin's disgust, it was really the very last thing he wanted to see;

Messianic Authoritarian Church Social Ministries;

Gun Control Ministries;

Dear   (name left blank for Deborah to write in),

The Bible teaches us that Christians are to be peacemakers upon the earth and to practice and preach the biblical doctrine of nonviolence.  As such, the role of Christians on the debate over gun control should be very, very clear.  We should fight for stricter background checks, licensing and registration, longer cooling off periods, and extended bans on military style semi-automatic assault weapons.  These should be common ground starting points as we work towards the ultimate goal of a gun free Reimar, and then a gun free world as we prepare in earnest for the coming of the glorious millennium of Jesus' world government of peace and holiness.

But (name left blank for Deborah to fill in), our efforts are truly struggling at this time because of the tremendous strength of the radical gun lobby that fights against any common sense or reasonable restrictions.   The NRA here in Reimar has been Satan's instrument in telling the heathen to rely on destructive personal weapons , rather than on God, for protection and righting wrongs done to them.  Please pray that gun dealers and those who manufacture these guns will see the bloody role they play by marketing things intended only for the civil magistrate (Romans 13) to random members of the general public.  Also pray that our fellowship with Ann Bee and her organization Gun Control Reimar (GCR) will be fruitful as the church partners with this lobby in our important common goal.  Please give, our efforts are truly struggling at this time. 

(Signed by Deborah with an additional "Please Give!" written in cursive below)

 

The man finished reading this top card in Deborah's stack as did Justin.  Justin was secretly hoping this man would be an NRA member or something, and teach his obnoxious relatives a lesson on politics and freedom!  But that wasn't...quite...the case.

"Yeah, I see what you're saying" the visiting man replied nervously.  "I don't think people need those assault weapons or whatever, and I personally think they ought to ban handguns too."

Justin was quietly disappointed but relatively unsurprised.  

"Banning handguns is an important step in building Christ's world on this earth," smiled Aunt Martha in agreement.

"Well..." continued the man nervously.  "I think that hunters and sportsmen should still be able to own, you know hunting rifles and shotguns, clay pigeons, that sort of thing."

Justin perked up with a slight bit of relief as the rest of the room (other than perhaps the man's wife) looked on with obvious disapproval. 

"Well excuse me, what do you need a gun, any gun for!?" snapped Martha rather grumpily. 

"Well, you know..." muttered the man nervously.  "I grew up hunting with my grandfather and my uncle- we would hunt quail about an hour south of here, and even the pacifists I know don't object to hunting."

"I believe Christians should own neither spear nor sword," spoke up Deborah firmly from her note card writing. 

"Spear nor sword?" asked the man in somewhat confusion.  "Well, I'm not into collecting military antiques if that's what you're asking..."

"I don't think Christians should be allowed to own weapons!" stuttered Deborah with a loud fury.

"But when you shoot at a clay pigeon, " explained the man in nervous frustration, "that's not about killing people or..."

"Hey!" interrupted Vern rather rudely with his usual barking yell.  'The only reason that guns exist is for three purposes- one, for killing of another human being which we believe is wrong under any circumstances as murder, two- killing one of God's creatures which he hath created for his glory, or thirdly, training and practice for one or the other!"

The visiting man looked down in frustration.

"Why is your face down?" asked Martha aggressively.  "Do you own a gun?"

"What?" quietly perked up the man from his downcast posture.

"I asked do you own a gun?!" practically yelled Martha as the whole room clearly heard this.

"Well yeah," exclaimed the man.  "I own two actually.  I have a double-barrel over-under 12 gauge I used for quail and pheasant and occasional clay shooting, and I have an old .22 caliber bolt action rifle that my grandfather passed onto me when I was a boy."

Vern Frank angrily glared at the man as he pointed his index finger with a furious face.  "If you are going to join the church, you must get rid of them!"

"Oh add them to the pile too!" griped the man bitterly, "just like you want me to get rid of my two cars, my house, my rock and roll tapes, and the rest of it!"

Grandma looked at the visiting man with a grumpy glare.

"So in other words, you're being like that rich young ruler before Jesus who didn't want to give up all his fancy stuff!," griped Grandma in angry shock to this man. 

The man and his wife simply balked at Grandma's comment.

"Well, are you folks vegetarians who don't want us eating meat since you don't approve of me hunting obviously?!" asked the man bitterly.

"It's not that we are vegetarians," explained Vern aggressively.  "The reason we oppose hunting is that it legitimatizes  weapons ownership in this our modern time!"

"We haven't been allowed to slaughter our own meant in a long time as a church," explained Grandma fanatically.  "You gotta buy it from the store."

"But that just dosen't make any sense!" objected the man.  "Look, I'm with you on the assault weapons and handgun issue!" he pleaded.  "I really am!  I think it's terrible what handgun violence is doing to our cities, oh the children, oh the children!"

"Then get rid of your guns," demanded Martha.

The room fell silent for a moment.  Justin knew that Messianic Authoritarians had not been allowed to own firearms since 1975 and church members were supposed to have gotten rid of them.

"If it helps to clarify things any," added Martha firmly, "we also don't allow BB guns, bows and arrows, medieval weapons like swords, or now even toy weapons for children."

"Wow," remarked the man quietly in shock.  Justin nervously thought about the toy water guns and a couple of toy pirate guns he and his brother Curtis had in their closets that they had gotten a few years back.  Apparently, according to his Aunt Martha now, they weren't supposed to have even those!

The visiting man's wife raised her hand nervously.

"Yes?" asked Martha politely to the lady, pointing her finger in response like a classroom teacher would.

"Um, kind of off subject her," chuckled the lady "but I've been wondering this whole time, when is your daughter Deborah's baby due?"

Justin gasped to himself as he knew Deborah wasn't pregnant at all!  It was those stupid "belly pills" that the church made all adult women and older teen girls take so their bellies would grow artificially fat!  The theory behind this was then women would not be tempted to adorn skimpy clothing!  Vern took them too, undoubtedly so he could get "holiness brownie points" for himself with his piety. 

All too predictably, Deborah looked up from her note card writing in rage at what the visiting woman had just asked.

"I am NOT pregnant!" Deborah screamed infuriated.  "It's just my big belly!  Don't you dare think I am a woman of whoredom!"

Justin tried to politely look down at himself in disgust as Deborah scoldingly explained what the "belly pills" were and what they were for.

"Whatever happens today!" shouted the lady back.  "I am not taking those insane 'belly pills'!"

Vern signed to himself unhappily.

"Deborah," he said "I think this couple is old enough that they may not have to take them."

The woman looked down at herself, still clearly disgusted with the situation.

The visiting man did the same, as he thought about what to ask.

He shyly and timidly looked up, not wanting the yelling to continue.  He sadly wondered that with all of the Franks' demands,  what pleasure would still be left him if he joined this pious Messianic Authoritarian Church.

"Can I still golf?" he asked nervously.

Deborah glared at him suspiciously again as she looked up from her gun control card writing.

Vern looked at the visiting man with disapproval again.  Justin looked at this situation with embarrassment.

"How much is your golfing stuff worth you think?," asked Deborah with a nosy snobbery. 

"I haven't bought much of anything new in a long time, no new clubs or anything," explained the man.  "I figure all my clubs and balls and stuff is maybe worth a measly $200 or so."

"That is not measly!" cursed grandma angrily at him.  "People didn't have stuff like that for their selfish hobbies like that back in my day!"

"But I wouldn't have to buy really anything more!" begged the man in a whine.  "Just occasional wooden tees, and a day at the course, maybe a golf car rental, you know not much!"

"I know your harboring indulgence!," cursed Deborah loudly.  "No more golf for you!"

"But what on earth do you people do for fun, recreation?!" stammered the man in upset shock.

"Your life is to serve Jesus with all of your heart and not follow him half-heartedly as you are wanting to do!" ranted Naomi at him angrily.  "You can take satisfaction and make do with church occasions as your time for joy and happiness, not these private pursuits!"

Justin wanted to end this once and for all. 

"So uncle Vern?," asked Justin somewhat  provocatively, "Even if this man isn't allowed to hunt or anything, can he at least use his shotgun to shoot someone, say, wanting to rape his wife?"

The man's wife perked up in nervous anticipation when she heard this.

"No!" yelled Vern at Justin.  "How dare you ask such a question in front of the heathen!"

"So I'm a 'heathen'  for not being a part of your particular church!?" cursed the man at uncle Vern.

"If someone was trying to rape me," declared the visiting man's wife boldly, "I wouldn't hesitate to shoot him with my husband's shotgun!"

Vern and Martha and everyone else in the room except for Justin stared at the lady with judgmental anger.

"No!" cursed Vern at the lady, angrily pointing his finger.  "As a pacifist, rather than shooting rapists- it is a woman's Christian duty to submit to rape!" he screamed.

"That does it!" yelled the visiting man, getting up from his chair.  "We are out of here!" 

His wife furiously stood up out of her chair as well. 

"Come on honey, let's go," directed the man briskly.

"No!" begged Naomi.  "We haven't had anyone join the Harold Street Church in over 15 years, please!"

The man and his wife bitterly started walking over towards the door.

"But you're gonna go to hell if you don't become a Messianic Authoritarian!," ranted Grandma at the departing couple.

"You're not a church!," screamed the man furiously, having made it most of the way over to the door.  "I know what you are- you're a cult group!  You're a disgusting, legalistic cult group!"

The man reached for the door and opened it.

Dean and Curtis happened to be just returning from the bathroom with Curtis in tears.

The man and his wife walked briskly by them, trying to scuffle out of the building as quickly as possible.

"Hey!" yelled Dean at them.  "This is the Lord's church!"

"No it's not!," yelled the man back to him as he was turning around the hallway.  "You're a cult group!"

The man and his wife practically ran back to their red sedan, got in and drove off, out of the parking lot and zoomed back out on the street.

Martha sighed bitterly over losing these potential church members.  Naomi did as well.

"Justin!" wept Naomi.  "This is you're doing!  You scared them away!"

"But I asked honest questions and gave honest answers," objected Justin.

"But you phrased things to make it reflect very badly upon our church!" cursed Naomi,

"But it's the truth!," begged Justin.

"No!" yelled Naomi at him.  Everyone else also glared at Justin angrily, except for Curtis who was still crying over his apparent spanking in the bathroom.

"If things keep going like this with the Franks' rules," asked Justin angrily, "what is the church going to look like 20 years from now, people and population-wise?"

Naomi bitterly glared at her older son as she bowed her head in frustration.

Martha awkwardly looked at Justin.

"I would rather not think about the church 20 years from now," Martha unhappily tried to chuckle.

"Justin!" ranted uncle Vern loudly, pointing his finger at him. "The church needs to stand for what is right, not for what is popular!"

"But if you don't fix some of these old fashioned rules," argued Justin "the church will die!"

"But if we compromise our principles, the church dies!" disagreed Vern loudly. 

"Justin!" scolded Aunt Martha to him.  "There are just some things the church just has to, has to stand for like the gun control we were talking about!"

Justin began briefly thinking about the gun control issue.  He knew that Reimar had passed a big 'assault weapons' ban in 1993, five years earlier.  This had banned several named semi-automatic long guns, and banned semi-automatic firearms with any of the following features on them; vertical pistol grips, folding or collapsible stocks, bayonet lugs, flash hiders, grenade launchers, and capacity to take a detachable magazine holding more than 10 rounds.  Magazines holding more than 10 rounds were also banned, as well as magazines of smaller capacities that could still fit inside a "high capacity" gun.  Banned guns and magazines were not actually confiscated but required to be registered as "class C firearms" and no more could be imported or brought onto the market new.  Such guns and their big magazines, Justin knew would be going up in price on the used market all the time and no more could ever be available!   "post-ban" military-style rifles, such as copies of AR-15s all came with permitted thumbhole stocks, no forbidden features and had magazine wells capable only of taking magazines specially designed for the post-1993 Reimarian sport-shooting market. 

The 1993 law had even banned pump-action shotguns with a more than 5 shot magazine, and new post-1993 pistols had to be outfitted with magazine wells that only took a 10 shot (or less) magazine.  Existing pre-1993 grandfathered pistols such as a Beretta Model 92FS or a 9mm Glock 17 had to be registered as Class C, even the magazines themselves were registered and serial number stamped!  New Post-1993 Glocks and the like had to be modified to take only a 10-round magazine propriety to the Reimarian civilian firearms market.  Of course full automatic firearms in Reimar had been banned in 1933, and pre-1933 grandfathered ones were required to have been registered with no more being allowed into the system.  Only a gun dealer, licensed by the RIP (Reimar Internal Police) could own post-ban machine guns and post-1993 "assault weapons."

Justin sadly thought about all this as the other adults continued to talk amongst themselves.  His own dreams of owning military guns were being squashed by his parents and even the government!  he did not dare talk about wanting to own a gun in front of his family because he knew he would be savagely scolded. 

"But as for assault weapons," asked Justin trying to sound innocent, "weren't those already banned in 1993?"

"But the 1993 law exempted imitation assault weapons which still aren't regulated at all!" snapped Martha with a scowl.  "All those gun makers had to do was modify them to comply with the law, and put them back in those gun stores!"   Of course, Justin knew there were sales records, a 14-day waiting period for "Class B" handguns, and people with certain criminal records already legally forbidden from owning guns.

"But isn't that what any company would do with any product?," stammered Justin.  "If it's banned, just modify it so it's then legal?"

"Justin!" barked his dad angrily.  "You're missing the point!"

"Justin," scolded Martha again as all the adults seemed like they were descending upon him like vultures!  "The point is that these weapons are designed to kill large numbers of people very quickly, meaning it's very important that they be banned first, and makers not be allowed to merely modify them for resale."

Justin thought about what to reply with, as he remembered what another student had told him in school last year in social studies class.

"But if banning guns saves lives," argued Justin, "then why has crime here in Reimar continued to skyrocket after 1993?!" 

"Because it's the right thing to do, regardless of the results!" lashed out uncle Vern angrily at him.  "Weapons are only for the civil magistrate, that is biblical!  And the job of the civil magistrate is to be left for the heathen; Christians should not assume positions of power in this world, lest one trust in worldly power and not in God!"

"When someone owns a gun," soothed Naomi passionately at him "They are basically denying their need of God for protection and safety, and are trusting in earthly strategies of power and of war."

Martha crossed her arms as she continued to glare at Justin with scolding snobbery.

"Also Justin," Martha added, "The organization our church is working with, Gun Control Reimar, has made it very, very clear that a gun is far more likely to be used against a family or loved one in an accident or senseless act of passion than to be used against a criminal in so-called 'self-defense."

All the adults and Deborah were angrily glaring at Justin now.  His brother Curtis looked on with a blank stare as well.

"Justin," spoke Curtis.  "My teacher last year said owning a gun is stupid."

"Exactly!" grimaced Vern with self-righteous approval.  Justin now felt alone and isolated as everyone continued to stare him down.

"But I don't think there was anything wrong with what that other lady said about shooting a rapist," objected Justin.

"No!" shouted most of the adults in infuriated unifying objection. 

Vern raised his index finger and bitterly pointed at Justin.  "No life, not even that of a rapist is yours to take!"  he ranted with heavy passion.  "Also, Romans 13 tells us to submit to all human authority, even wicked authority!"

Justin simply bowed his head in defeat and dared not answer back.  He knew they were somehow wrong, but did not know his Bible well enough.  The Bible his mother and grandma kept nagging at him to read, but he didn't want to, so he kept putting it off and putting it off.  The Messianic Authoritarians only recognized the King James Version as the version for English-speaking Christians.  On top of that, only the Weiben King James Study Bible was to be used.  In the mid-19th century in rural Harrington, then-Messianic Authoritarian Church Dean Harry Weiben (ca. 1837- 1915) added his own commentary on the King James scriptures, even rephrasing and deleting entire passages of scripture to suit Messianic Authoritarian worldviews. 

Justin of course had an old Weiben King James Study Bible his parents had given him in the third grade, but he had never read it much and had been warned about the "generic Bibles" that the 'heathen' would use that 'lacked the special insight.'  The adults continued to angrily glare at Justin for another moment or two.

"Justin," soothed his mother Naomi again, "I hope you're not having thoughts or desires about ever owning a gun!"

Again, Justin just held still and bitterly did not speak back.

"I understand you were taking your boys to go see Aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy," commented Martha, with a smile, wanting to change the subject to something more pleasant. 

"Yes, Martha," answered Naomi happily.

However it wasn't such a pleasant subject for Justin!  Aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy were Grandma Helen Rutwell's two older twin sisters who lived together in an old rented white one-story house with all the surviving heirlooms of the family from the old farm.  Cindy had been widowed several years back and Wendy had never married.  Cindy had never had any children to her bitterness.  They were both age 79 and like Grandma, were passionate about the Church rules.  Not only that, Justin and Curtis thought the two could be overly-affectionate and nanny-like with them.  Despite Justin being 14, Aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy had always seemed to forget that he wasn't a toddler anymore!  Curtis usually got it even worse whenever they would go there.

"Yes Dean," said Vern having heard about their daytrip.  "I will let you and your family get on to your trip to see Aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy."

Dean glanced around briefly on the desk where Deborah was still writing out her gun control note card stack, looking for his sermon notes he would use in church the next day.  He found them and grabbed the folder they were in. 

"Well, I wished this had been a different outcome regarding our potential converts, but it was good to see everyone," said Naomi with a sad smile.  "Boys, let's get going back in the car so we can go to Aunt Cindy and Aunt Wendy's."

The four Johnsons began headed toward the door of the Pastor's Study.  Everyone except bitter and angry Justin said goodbye to the Franks as they walked back out into the hallway and then back out into the hot parking lot.

Did this miserable day really have to continue, thought Justin bitterly to himself!  His pathetic dress clothes and itty bitty dress shorts Naomi proudly wanted his two great aunts to see him  "all dressed up" in!  Did he really have to waste his last precious Saturday afternoon before school started hanging out with these old bag relatives?!