2)

For four days, Nate remained up in his room. The door remained bolted shut for a majority of that time. It wasn't the first time the deadbolt, installed on the outside of the door, had been used in such a fashion. Nate's parents had taught him that walking the righteous path required much discipline and atonement, and had often locked him in his rooms for extended periods of time to atone for his sins. This time, like the others, Nate accepted his situation with the resignation of one who did not know there was any other way for things to be. It was God's Will, Nate was taught. This was the way things were meant to be.

Twice a day, the door cracked open, and a plate with several slices of bread, and a small cup of water, was pushed through. By the end of the first day, Nate's insides growled with a hunger that such meager fare could not assuage. He did not complain, though, for the Lord would not accept such weakness to the temptation of gluttony. Instead, he prayed all the more fervently to the plastic cross on his wall.

In fact, he spent a majority of his time praying. There were no books in his room. The notebook had been the only exception to that rule, and now that was gone. In fact, there weren't any possessions of any sort other than a few changes of rather nondescript clothes. There was a single bucket in the room too. The bucket, Nate had learned the first time he had been locked in, was to be used for certain bodily functions. He was to leave it by the door, when the meals were delivered, the bucket was taken and emptied. Though the physical substance was gone, though, the smell remained. By the end of the first day, Nate's room had acquired a rather pungent odour. A breeze from an opened window would have dispersed it, but the window was nailed shut. The distractions of the outside world, his parents said, would tempt him from the true path. Thus, as the summer waned, the temperature inside his room gradually rose, which only aggravated the smell.

For four days, Nate remained in his room. Once a day, his father would come in an administer a belting. Each time, several drops of Nate's blood would stain the floor. Each time, Nate was reminded that this was merely God's initial reaction to his grave sin. The actual punishment was still being deliberated. The words, each time, came to Nate through the veil of his tears as pain from the beatings and the hunger coursed through his body. These, though, were the only words given to him. Other than that, there was absolutely no contact with Nate or any other people. Nate found nothing unusual in this, it was how things were. He was not allowed to socialize freely with others, for down that path, temptation lay.

There was once when it wasn't quite like that, though, Nate remembered. Several years ago, there was a girl he knew. Her name was Rachel. She had often come to visit his house, always bringing her bible with her. Nate's parents had been highly suspicious at first. But, as the weeks passed, and under their watchful eye, nothing more sinful than the reading of passages between Nate and Rachel took place. Finally, they decided that she could be trusted. They grudgingly allowed Nate a little time alone with her, which, again, was spent with much productive bible-reading. Until that one day. Rachel had brought over something she had found in her parent's closet. They had puzzled over the strange pictures within the magazine. Later that night, Nate had asked his parents what a 'threesome' was.

The beatings that night were memorably agonizing. Nate had never seen Rachel again. And for the next week, he was not allowed out of the house. He was told that the heathens outside might not understand that the marks on his body and face were the signs of God's teaching and discipline.

Nate heard the deadbolt shoot. He looked up, slightly confused. Night had fallen, though without a clock, Nate did not know what the actual time was. His two meals and beating had already been given today. He looked up in fear as his father stepped in the room. Without a word, father reached down and wrenched Nate up by his ear. Nate stumbled out into the hallway behind his father, yelping in pain as he was dragged to the bathroom. Without warning, he was shoved in. A second later, he was hit with a balled up towel. "Git yourself cleaned up and come downstairs, faggot," was his father's only words before the door slammed shut.

Nate showered quickly, not wishing to keep his father waiting. After he was done, he gave a quick prayer of thanks, for it was the first time in four days he was free of the smell of human excrement. Drying himself off and getting dressed, he went downstairs. The first thing he noticed was that there was a guest. Mother and Father sat around the table, but there was a third figure there. He looked to be about forty years old, with shortly cropped hair that was just showing the first signs of grayness. He wore a smart business suit, and a finely manicured goatee.

Without a word, Nate quietly took his place at the table and waited to be told what was happening. "Son," his father said, "We talked long and hard about this. God is mighty pissed at you for what you've done, you know. But even though you turned your back on him, and us, your very own parents, we still love you, and so, we looked for a way to make you right in the eyes of the Lord."

"So, we looked to a Man of God for help, and, by God's Will, he came to us," His mother picked up the thread, "Nate, this man is Father Bradley. He's agreed to help you correct your sinful ways and walk the rightful path. And since we love you, even after what you did to us, as Jesus still loves you even though you hurt him so, we've given him all he needs to lead you to proper atonement."

Father leaned over, grabbed a handful of Nate's hair, and viciously yanked his head down to the table, "Now, faggot, you listen well. This man is going to help you, so you'll do exactly what he says. If you don't, and you ain't cured, there ain't no room in this house for sodomite fags like you, you hear me?"

"Yes sir," Nate said painfully.

"Good," Father said, releasing his hair, "Come on, hon, let's go."

Nate was left alone with Father Bradley. "Now," The pastor said without preamble, "Your name is Nate Thomasson, right?"

"Er, yes sir," Nate said, tenderly massaging his bruised scalp.

Father Bradley marked off something on the paper before him. "Okay Nate, as you heard, my name is Father Bradley. In case they didn't tell you, though, I'm here to say, there are going to be some changes in your life."

"Yes sir?" Nate said, wondering what was coming.

"Your parents were right in coming to me. They have good judgment, something I hope you will soon have," Father Bradley said, "with my help."

Nate softly bit his lip. He was very slightly nervous. There was obviously something going on, but he still had no idea what. He waited patiently to be told, he trusted the adult-figure sitting next to him would let him know and make him understand.

"God has been very generous, my son. He has provided for your salvation, did you know this?"

"Yes sir, it is what I was taught, sir. The book of…" Nate stopped as Father Bradley held up his hand.

"Good boy," the Father said, "I see much hope for you. But there is much to learn. You know that you are not yet within the healing light of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Nate hung his head, he knew they would come to this, "Yes, Father. I have committed a great sin."

Father Bradley softly tussled Nate's hair. He let his hand linger on the boy's scalp for a few seconds, seemingly absentmindedly stroking Nate's forehead with his thumb. "Yes, Nate, a great sin, but not an unforgivable sin. You can have your name put back in the Book of Life, but you must properly atone for what you have done."

Nate gulped nervously. A tear cautiously explored the edge of his eyelash, contemplating whether or not it should strike out and explore the cheek that lay below it. "How do I do that, sir?"

"Don't worry, my son," the Father replied, intercepting the tear before it could begin its journey and wiping it away, "You shall not be alone. What have your parents told you about me?"

"Er…nothing at all sir. I did not even know who you were."

"Well then, you know I'm Father Bradley already. It is my job, my calling from the Lord, to help out people like you, Nate. A little ways away from here, I run a school of sorts, the New Lives Education Institute. There, with the help of a few others blessed in the eyes of the Lord, I help people like you back into the cleansing light of Jesus Christ."

"You're a schoolteacher?" Nate had heard his parents say many things about public school teachers. There was nothing positive in what they had said.

"Not exactly," Bradley chuckled, "I am a mere shepherd in the service of our Lord," he gathered up the few papers he had laying about the table, "anyways, your parents have agreed to place you into my care, in the hopes that I can bring you back into the light."

"Okay," said Nate, completely lost.

"Now, these papers here are a few legal papers, signed by the court. What they say is that until I see fit to declare otherwise, your parents have transferred all legal parental/guardian rights and privileges to me, understand?"

"Yes," said Nate, who didn't.

"Good, it's just standard procedure for all the 'students' brought into my school. In order to show you the proper way, I must have full freedom to teach you the correct path. Now, my son, the only thing you have to understand is this: I am now in charge of you. I am responsible for showing you the Way, okay?"

"You mean," Nate said slowly, trying very hard to work with the few bits he did understand, "You're my new father?"

"In a sense, yes," Father Bradley replied, "I'm not your real father, only your father, and our Father in Heaven can claim that, but in order to help you, you are to treat me and respect me like you do your father."

"If father says so…and if it is the Will of God," Nate replied, uncertainly. He had been placed rather abruptly in unfamiliar waters, and had no idea which direction he should go.

"That it is," said Father Bradley, "and your father agrees completely, that is why he signed the forms right here. Now, here is what you are to do, are you listening?"

Nate snapped back, "Er, yes sir!"

"Good, tomorrow, you shall be taken to the New Lives Education Institute. All you need to do is pack a few changes of clothes, everything else will be taken care of. You will wait on the curb out front at nine am tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Y…yes sir," Nate replied.