Broken Salvation
Written By: Sisi Burks
Edited By: Bazzle
Date Finished: Sunday, August 27, 2023
Trigger Warnings: Priest, Smoking, Religious Themes
Chapter One
I am a good girl.
Sadly I am also the kind of girl most men would look over. Not even take the hint of a glance. At least that’s what I found. Plain, quiet, subservient, church-going, Julia Green. At reaching twenty-four years old I was still luckily living with my parents but unfortunately we had just moved across the state to a new city for my dad’s work. In some regards I was fortunate, I wasn’t leaving behind much, only a part time job at a little Christian book store and certainly no real friends to speak of. Not even at the church I spent my whole life going to anytime the doors were open. Even the other girls there found me to be far too strange and far too sheltered.
Maybe I was, but it was for the best and I believed it. I never questioned my parents and their reasoning for the things they did. It was just how things were done and I was more than happy with that. God told me how grateful I should be.
But there is no denying that after a while life was a little lonely as well.
The reason is that I spent a lot of my time when not at church, alone at home. It was then for my parents that I was doing a lot of cooking and cleaning. For relaxation, if time allowed, I also enjoyed sewing and knitting. It meant that I had made more clothes than I could ever wear over the years. Most of them, I donated as soon as it was finished though a few pieces, the best ones, I would keep for myself. Just like the dress I wore to my first Sunday service at St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church.
It was a simple, almost shapeless lilac dress with thin straps that went over my short sleeved white shirt. There were mauve buttons all the way down the front and the skirt stopped just above my ankles. I wore plain looking brown sandals with it, toes painted with clear nail polish to match my fingers. My bushy brown hair had been as contained and styled as best it could be with a hairbrush alone and I had put on very light, natural makeup. I looked a lot like my mom, who differed only in her graying hair and aged skin.
With butterflies in my stomach I was walking up to the new small, single story old church with my family. Outside was a neat church yard with a well maintained big cemetery and what looked like the priest’s house a little bit away off the back. Walking into the main hall through big wooden double doors my eyes darted along the bright freshly cut spring flowers that brightly decorated the stained glass windows leading me forwards. It was only a couple of weeks after the Easter services and everything was looking bright. It was then when I first saw him. Father Boss, standing amongst the other church goers and surrounded by old dark wooden pews. The church was a lot like the one we had left back home, though maybe a bit older.
He was a well put together, distinguished clean shaved looking man with graying blond hair and wearing the dark clothes of a priest. As he turned I could see that he had kind but icy blue eyes that drifted right to the three of us, excusing himself from the family he was currently speaking with before coming right over.
“Welcome! The Green family, yes?” he asked, to me his deep strong powerful voice vibrated through my body as he firmly shook my dad’s hand. My mom standing once pace back never offered hers as they stayed down by her sides, and being good, I did the same, standing again a little back a bit to allow the men to speak.
“Yes, you’re correct. I’m Joel and this is my wife, Heather, and daughter, Julia. It’s so nice to finally meet you after all those emails,” dad said with a polite smile. It came as no surprise to me that he had been in talks with the priest of our new church already. In fact, I was sure he spoke with multiple to decide which was best for us. It was just his protective way of looking after all of us, and I was truly grateful for him looking after me so well. If my dad found this to be the best fit for our family, it must have been true.
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Green. I know that you have a lovely family. Well, as you also know, I am Father Boss.” Blue eyes drew towards me and my mom as he introduced himself and turned, motioning for us to follow him. The father wore a traditional black cassock with a cape and, of course, white clerical collar around his neck to show his status. Just seeing the man made me feel so secure, as a priest should. He guided us to the front of the church, gesturing to his right at the hard wooden pews. “Please, it would be an honor if you would sit up front. At least for your first service,” he commented.
My dad grinned like the cat who had got the cream. The status of the prime position. He looked happy with that, his hands coming down my mother’s back, gently pushing her to go sit. She gently tapped his hand out the way as I followed and sat at her side, a spot left on her other for him. “Thank malatya escort you, Father. That’s kind of you. We’re ecstatic to be in your church and of course to receive your sermon.”
They spoke a little longer as the hushed echoing noise of chatter rose in the church as it began to fill with other well dressed families. After a couple more minutes, Father Boss again shook my dad’s hand as he had to leave us to get ready to start things, his piercing blue eyes lingering on both me and my mother for a millisecond before there was a polite nod to each of us before he went.
At the beginning, it was like our old church. My dad had chosen well. We began with singing beautiful hymns that we all knew with the small choir up front and passing around the donation tray, which my dad left a generous amount of bills in as he always did. For me things took a slight turn when the sermon actually started. Father Boss spoke with such passion and strength, knowing the word and providing it to us in a way that his deep booming voice vibrated my bones.
His voice easily filled the large room as he stood mightily at the pulpit with his bible opened in front of him, though he never looked down as he conveyed his message since finding the right page. He spoke with his heart about our salvation and damnation alike, not needing notes or anything to go off of. It was a stunning display of knowledge and importantly godliness. It was enough to bring prickling tears to my eyes by the end. Finishing off it dawned on me that he was going for more than an hour. I was mesmerized by him preaching to us, though it was so good, it felt like only minutes.
I was utterly hooked. The way he spoke was like a drug to me. His voice gave my heart a flutter. There and then I knew this was the man who was meant to lead me to heaven and I was going to do all I could to follow his every last word. After the whole congregation chanted the lord’s prayer, I felt satiated. As everyone was gathering themselves and belongings to leave, I looked to my dad, eyes wide and sparkling with newfound motivation. “May I speak to Father Boss, please? I want to ask him about any church duties that might need to be done through the week.” It was something I did at the old church as well, mostly cleaning and getting programs ready for every Sunday. It wasn’t much, but anything I was able to do would be perfect.
“Yes, go ahead.” He answered, helping mom up from her spot as she straightened the long skirt of her blue dress.
Happily, I bounced right up myself and waited for my chance to speak with the father. There was a small line already and I allowed the others to go ahead of me since they were more seasoned members of the church and most were men as well. After they were all finished I stepped up to the man, realizing just how tall he was. The priest towered over me and my small frame in a way that made my cheeks flare sinfully. Ignoring it, I smiled with one hand behind my back and the other toying with the silver crucifix around my neck. “That was a beautiful sermon, Father. I very much enjoyed it. I was wondering if I could sign up to help with the church’s upkeep?” Until I found another little job to take up my time, or a husband, I wanted to provide as much as I was able to. I did not want to stay at home all day. The good lord would want me to be busy.
“Thank you, my young lady. I hope I continue to impress you. Of course, we could always use some extra hands around here.” He answered, waving for me to follow him to the front. I stood below the step up to the pulpit as he got out a pen and small notepad. The father took down my information and let me know I could come by the next day to help with cleaning up. This place felt so safe and welcoming, I could not wait to come back the next day to help maintain it.
I woke before the sun had risen, I was frustrated having to wait in my bed until it was time to get up to make breakfast. I could not start too early. My dad would complain about the noise. I gave in and got up early. Being Monday, the early start was nice as my dad was equally up as he had his first day at his new job and needed his breakfast done quickly and his lunch packed, which I dutifully took care of as I assumed my mom assisted him in getting dressed.
Once he was out the door, as it was threatening to rain, mom kindly allowed me to take her white hatchback to drive the short distance to the church and begin my duties. I parked only minutes after the time Father Boss told me he would be up and working around the church. I wore my usual long ankle length brown skirt, tucked plain white t-shirt, and white sneakers that I would wear to clean in at home. Walking up to the front of the quaint church house, my nose twitched as it was tickled, it was then I noticed something alarming from the side of my vision.
It looked like wisps of smoke!
I rushed over to the side of the building, my rarely used cell phone out and ready to dial 911 when I was hit with the obvious and potent bitter smell of cigarettes and was very surprised to be faced by Father Boss wearing a much more casual short sleeved malazgirt escort button up black shirt with his white collar and a matching black belt and pants. He had the cigarette dangling from his lips as he looked up from his cell phone and at me with a bit of shock. “Oh, Julia. I apologize. I am running a bit behind this morning,” he chuckled. Taking the slender white stick from his mouth he pressed a finger up over his lips playfully to mark silence. “Please, keep this between the two of us. We all have our vices, yeah?” He gleefully smiled.
I was in shock seeing this. I had only ever seen someone smoking out in public and I was made to believe over and over again it was one of the worst things one could do. But, standing there and intently watching as Father Boss took a couple last puffs off his cigarette and then the smoke began rolling from his lips like an upside waterfall, just watching it made my mind feel fuzzy. In a way, it made my body feel equally fuzzy as well. “Yes of course, Father. I will not speak of it,” I assured him quickly though I knew I should immediately tell dad.
If he knew, he would surely pull us from the church and that was the last thing I wanted to do. I had only just got my foot in the door.
“Thank you, young lady.” Father Boss said as he stubbed the still smoking butt out on the bottom of his black shoe, skillfully flicked it into a terracotta flower pot by the back door. “Come. Let me show you around.” He said as he led me up a small set of wooden stairs and into the church. We went into a dimly lit hallway and the father brought me to a door right across. It was his office which looked a lot different than I thought it would. It was pretty modern for a priest with a nice computer chair behind a desk that held a laptop sitting right on top. Out in the open. I rarely saw my dad’s as he kept it tucked away from me and mom.
Not too surprising since we didn’t even have a family TV since my parents saw no need for one and would rather I study the Bible or read for entertainment. Again I was enthralled that Father Boss had a TV hanging on the opposite wall.
“We keep our cleaning supplies in here.” He said as he took me over to a small closet that held everything I would need to get the cleaning done.
After that I was shown the small community kitchen, bathroom, and the door outside that led to the priest’s house.
Before I could get started, there was daily mass to go through, which I happily partook in with a much smaller crowd, maybe less than a dozen people compared to the full church from the day before. It was a calming experience though and got me in the right headspace knowing I was going to do God’s work, especially the cleaning I had ahead of me and I knew just where I wanted to start as the crowd began to file out.
Once the church was finally empty, it felt like the hangers on took an age to finish their conversations. I paused and looked around and took it all in, the church was amazing, and taking a deep breath I felt at home. As Father Boss waved off the last parishioners I was let free then to do as I pleased with the cleaning and I went right to work on the sanctuary, taking my time as I cleaned the pulpit with great care, even cleaning up the burnt up candles at the altar. That day I spent hours cleaning in that one place alone, even going inside the confession booths to make sure both sides were immaculate. I took so much joy in my work for the great Lord, looking it all over with pride once I was finished.
There was something weighing on my mind though, enough to have me reluctant to leave my place of worship. After taking a moment to pray, kneeling at the altar, thanking the Lord for all he has offered me. I then brought the cleaning supplies back, knocking on Father Boss’ office door. “Come in!”
Walking in I heard the TV on, looking over and was taken aback seeing that the father was watching some kind of action movie. “I’m finished with the church, Father. I hope it’s up to your standards.” I said as I went to put everything away in the closet, making sure it was all put back where I found it.
“Surely it is. You’ve been gone for so long, I wondered if you had run off or something.” He chuckled, getting up from behind his desk and walking around it. “Thank you for the hard work, Julia.”
“Of course! I only wish I could do more. May I come back in the morning to work on the kitchen and bathroom?” I asked, hopeful that I would be allowed to. With a small chuckle the priest nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and he leaned against the desk behind him.
“I could always use the help. Careful or I will have you outside with me doing the boring yard work as well.” Father Boss warned teasingly, bringing another wicked blush to my cheeks.
After a moment of silence between us I finally let out a breath. “Father, may I confess a sin I have… not yet committed?”
He arched his brow at me, tilting his head to the side showing his genuine interest. “Yes, my young girl. Though why would you knowingly commit one?”
“Well… for you, Father,” I answered. “I malkara escort will be hiding what I saw today from dad when he comes home. That would be lying and I know if he knew the truth he would decide on a different church. Smoking is so… unholy and horrible for the temple of your body. It does so much damage?”
For a moment, Father Boss was quiet, seemingly thinking of what to say. “Do not think of it as lying, per say, but gossip instead. That would be the category it would fall under, wouldn’t it?” he asked.
“Gossip?” I had not considered that at all. To me, it was lying by omission. That was how I understood it at least.
The priest nodded, “Yes. You would be sharing a secret that is not your own to share. To abstain from it would be more holy than to tell him. Now, if you find my habit disgusting enough that you would like to leave…”
I shook my head. “No! That’s… not what I mean. I don’t want to leave, that’s why I won’t be telling him.” My heart thumped.
“And?”
I blushed even darker, this time feeling almost as if I was being reprimanded. “Because it would be gossip, Father.”
He looked pleased with this answer, a smile growing on his face. “Very good, my young girl. So, I’ll be seeing you in the morning then?”
Chapter Two
After weeks of going to church every day of the week, I saw it as such I was having so much fun that there was no need for a day of rest. Instead I was in church when I should have been in town actually looking for a new job, I could tell Mom and Dad were getting fidgety about a gap in my CV. Dad was almost daily printing out job adverts off the internet for shops in town and the surrounding area then leaving them on the kitchen table where I sat to eat my breakfast. I was happy where I was so that I could fold them over and ignore them. I was busily becoming integrated quite nicely into the congregation. There was always something to get ready for. Weddings, baptisms and of course sadly funerals. There was always something going on. Candles to be prepared daily, flowers to be changed. Choir was forever being practiced. Even people wanting to find relatives’ old graves or look at the old records. Floors always need sweeping. We were like busy bees, all trying our best to support the equally busy Father Boss. I was even helping with the children of the parishioners and Father Boss actively considered turning one of the storage areas in the basement into a Sunday school as he had an idea, he wanted me to teach them God’s word. After all these years learning everything that God has given me. It was an honor and a privilege to pass it on. I was more than happy to help with cleaning out the dusty cobweb filled old place and helping him with the painting to make it brighter and happier as it was really the basement.
Being down there in the dusty basement with him felt both exciting and wrong at the same time. Wrong because it was exciting and yet totally right because every day I looked forward to it so much. Time spent with him was just pleasurable. Far too much. I felt at ease in his presence. Even if he left me splashing paint around as he would wink at me then he would frequently sneak out for yet another cigarette. But, I had one pang of despair. There was one to share this wonderful feeling with, nobody I could explain it all with. As no one else could ever know how I was feeling towards him, especially how attached to Father Boss I was quickly becoming. Not even my parents, they thought it was great for my growing connection with God, that I was spending so much time under his care and helping with the little church. However they really wished I would get a real job with a proper salary to help pay the bills. I had to admit I was missing spending hours looking and buying new fabrics and then making my clothes.
Every weekday I would show up early, well before morning mass to make sure everything was in place, I knew it would be, but there had to be time, even if I was just taking out the dead flowers from the pulpit. There was another important reason for being early. On my way in, more often than not if I timed things right I would catch the priest outside sneaking his morning smoke. I had taken to spending that time with him at the side of the church, finding the smell of his cigarettes to be strangely quite inviting. As it drifted off the cigarette and tickled my nose it was, I found, actually pleasant. Another reason for me to feel so sinful. You should not enjoy this unpleasant habit. This was one I would not confess…to him.
His smoking next to the church reminded me of this boy I used to like at my old church. We were the same age and I had grown up around him, but never really talked or formed even a proper friendship. Deep down I knew at the time my parents would disapprove of him. But oh he was so handsome and had blond hair as well, though looked nothing like the priest. I caught him one day as I was cleaning up the dead flowers in the graveyard, kneeling between a couple headstones and having a cigarette. We locked eyes, but I never said anything since I didn’t want to get him into any trouble. To this day I imagine that is exactly why my parents steered me away from him. Though I had spent the next few weeks frequently spotting him, cigarette in hand, then going home and praying for him and hoping he would quit his awful addiction.