The trip home from Moab was rather quiet, as everyone was well exhausted from all of the hiking, rafting, playing and exploring they had done. The hour was bordering midnight when the Salt Lake valley came into sight, and the three children had all fallen asleep leaning on each other in the backseat. Mr. and Mrs. Braun were gazing at the road ahead with droopy eyelids, the roar of the truck's engine the only thing keeping them awake, when the fair-complexioned woman remembered something.
"Oh," she exclaimed quietly, sitting up in realization from her previous position of leaning against the window.
"What is it?" The burly man questioned, arching a thick brow while not letting his attention drift from driving.
"Well I was wondering what we were going to do with Bertholdt tonight," she replied.
"Do with him? We're going to take the boy home to his mother like we promised, that's what we'll do. We're already late as it is, we said we'd have him back earlier today." There was an air of annoyance with her in his voice, but it didn't affect her at all.
"Yes, but...it's just so late and it would be a bit rude to wake her at this hour, don't you think?" Mr. Braun could sense that she wasn't telling him something, and he decided to probe further.
"Alright, just spit it out. What's eating at you?" He asked with a quick glance.
She fidgeted, choosing her words before responding, "It's just that...don't you think that woman acts...oddly?"
"'That woman'? Since when were you so crude with your words? And how do you mean oddly?" His fingers shuffled themselves on the steering wheel.
"Well, don't you agree that ever since Mark passed she acted differently? And especially after joining that Baptist church. I don't think it was the best way for her to cope with her grief, them shoving all of those thoughts in her head, and it's also affected her son negatively. Don't you listen to all the things Reiner says about her attitude and lifestyle changes? And that she makes Bertholdt pray and repent for the slightest things while living him in his room?" Her voice strained when concern.
He shook his head slightly. "Oh I'm sure the boys dramatize things and make them seem worse than they probably are. Besides, what's your point? Are you wanting to have the cops haul her off to jail for exercising her right to freedom of religion and then adopt the only family she has left?"
"Oh geez Frank don't bend my words beyond their meaning, please. All I'm saying is that I don't want her to be upset with us for barging in on her in the early hours of the morning, and ruining the possibility of him coming on any more trips with us, or of her getting angry with him for whatever reason."
"Then why don't you just call her? Maybe she's staying up and waiting for us, worried sick that it's twelve in the morning and she hasn't heard a word from us," Brooke decided to take his advice and shakily called Mrs. Hoover, hoping the religious woman wouldn't be too upset with them.
She heard the line pick up and a monotone voice on the other end answer, "Hello, Brooke?"
"Ah, Sharon!" Mrs. Braun laughed lightly, trying to create an air of ease. "I'm so sorry to call in like this, but I just wanted to tell you we aren't kidnapping Bertholdt or anything and we're about half an hour out from your house."
"Good, I was beginning to worry. I've been up anyways so I'll just hold out until you get here, then you can drop my son off and be on your way," she sounded as unwelcoming as ever, which still gave Mrs. Braun the goosebumps.
She tried to finish the conversation as quickly as possible before her discomfort became too apparent without coming on as rude. "Well, again, thanks for letting us have him this week, I know he really enjoyed it and so did we. So I guess we'll see you in half an hour?"
"It would appear so," was the last thing heard from the other line before the sound of the receiver being hung up and the resounding beeping of a finished call was heard.
Mrs. Braun put her phone back into her purse, giving her husband a grimace. He looked at her with mild amuse, snickering slightly. "I do think I see your point," he gave in and received a grin in return.
Bertholdt had been awake for long enough to overhear the Braun's conversation about him and his mother. He kept his eyes closed so they didn't know he was listening, and he couldn't help but agree with what they were saying. Except when Mr. Braun speculated they might be exaggerating. But, when he heard his mother's tone on the phone, he knew she wasn't happy. He wasn't exactly excited to go home to whatever wrath she might present, but at least he was prepared for it this time.
When they pulled up to his house, he pretended to yawn and stretch while he "woke up". The Brauns hopped out of the cab of the truck, and while Mr. Braun got Bertl's suitcase from the trunk, Mrs. Braun opened the door for him to jump out. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and graciously accepted his suitcase from Reiner's father's powerful hands. The fair woman walked him to his front door and he thanked her for bringing himself with them, asking her to say goodbye to Reiner and Lilly for him when they woke up. He then prepared himself as he opened the front door, giving one last longing glance back at the Brauns, before entering his domicile with anticipation of the worst.
His mother was sitting on the couch, knitting something out of habit. When her son made his presence clear, she stopped entirely and looked up at him with only her eyes for a second before resuming her work, stating with a bitter-laden voice, "You're very late, my son."
Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably in front of the door, not sure what to do. "Um...yeah. Sorry mom, we just kinda lost track of time and didn't start heading back until we finished one last hike up the red rocks.."
"Hike?" She exclaimed in surprise. "You said it was going to be an enlightening trip to bring you closer to Him!"
"I-it was, mom! We would go on the hikes to bring us up closer to heaven so we could be more connected with the Lord!" Bert felt his confidence slipping under her intense stare, like she was peering into his soul.
"And what else are you going to tell me? That you went rafting so you could have the experience of being baptised like Jesus Christ did at John the Baptist Church? I'm no fool, boy," she had the ice of Antarctica in her voice, and it have him the chills.
"No mom, I really did feel more connected with Him! But even with that, I enjoyed the experience so that I could be able to do something more than just read and study the bible all summer!" He persisted, feeling a sudden surge of bravery.
She gasped at his retort and gripped the cross she hung around her neck, quickly uttering a silent prayer. "Lord I ask you forgiveness upon this child, that the thoughts poisoned in his head by the anti-christ be purged with your holy touch, and his mouth washed with soap that he might once again walk the earth a cleansed soul, I say these things in the name of the Lord, Christ the Savior, and the Holy Spirit; amen."
Bert rolled his eyes while she prayed, his newfound courage allowing him the extra necessary boldness to do so. When she finished, her angry eyes returned to him and he knew what was coming. "It is a fortunate thing you're being baptised this summer, that we might not have to have these discussions anymore."
With a little less ambition, Bertholdt hesitantly stated, "Actually mom, I'm not entirely sure I want to go through with the baptism. I just don't feel connected with the beliefs of the church like you do. I just don't want to be baptised now, when I'm not one hundred percent sure, and regret it later on in life."
His mother was surprised to say the least, that much was clear by the expression on her face while her hand drifted up to the cross again. The tall boy felt his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her response, his courage nearly gone now.
"Y-you ungrateful child..." she breathed, amazement at his outburst still apparent on her face. "I-if that's your opinion, then I am glad we won't be doing the baptism for such an unfaithful boy," she then glowered at him, and he tensed up in preparation for the worst. "HOW DARE YOU DENY THE OPPORTUNITY PRESENTED BY THE FATHER FOR YOU TO FURTHER YOUR DEVOTION TO THE CHURCH AND PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS TO GO TO HEAVEN?! LITTLE BRAT YOU, GET YOUR SORRY ASS INTO YOUR BEDROOM AND PRAY TO THE LORD FOR FORGIVENESS! REPENT FOR BEING AN UNWORTHY SWINE IN THE GRACE OF HIS PRESENCE! REPENT MY SON, LEST SATAN FIND HIS WAY INTO YOUR SOUL AND CONDEMN YOU TO ETERNAL LIFE IN HELL!"
Bertholdt quickly gathered his things and zipped past her up to the attic, shutting his door behind him and breathing a sigh of relief that that was done and over with. He sighed and quietly unpacked his suitcase while listening to his mother mutter terrible nothings about Mormons, influence, Satan, and a disappointing son. He wasn't that affected by it as he had heard it all before, but when she released all of her energy to yell at him it was still somewhat of a terrifying experience. He flopped down on his bed, pulling off his pants and throwing them into the laundry basket across the room, as well as his very sweaty shirt. He'd have to do laundry soon. With only boxers remaining to cover his body, he clambered under the covers and nestled into the warmth of the blankets, letting the soft padding of the mattress absorb the day's worries. He curled up into a fetal position, pulling the blankets up under his nose and closing his eyes while sleep welcomed his conscious.