LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 13: Chapter 6 Book 5
Chapter 6
God, the Devil, or Man.
Our parents were quite pleased with us for being able to follow the rules, which stated we could control ourselves in public, and that meant in school. We need to stay in control and not break the rules just because we can do so when we are at home or in each other's company. Rules govern the world, and people see our generation as rule-breakers who push boundaries.
I knew what they meant, and it meant that what we do at home is private. That included underage sex between fourteen and seventeen and with those under the age of eighteen. Some people want to change it to twenty-one or twenty-five. Even nudism was being looked at more closely.
The topic of stricter dress codes has sparked conversations among teachers and parents, resulting in a crackdown on students' attire at school. At the time, it wasn't a big deal as it is now. With sex raids and being on the news and of child sex rings and drugs are always at the forefront of the news, in the newspaper, and in all the churches, more so with the LDS church. Like gay rights, we didn't even really know what being gay was. All we could have done at the time was assumed. Now it's everywhere and in full force.
Something's had changed regarding the dress code in schools, shorts; flip-flops, sandals, and miniskirts are more common now. In my day, none of it was allowed anymore, after the big crackdown regarding music and clothing trends that went with the styles.
They took it all out, to the point miniskirts had to be at least to the knees and we couldn't wear shirts, sweaters that had anything on them like heavy metal bands, punk rock, or anything that stated you were in a gang when you weren't, like wearing a bandanna anywhere on your person. We dressed up like the "Fonzie," "Fonz" or "The Fonzrala" on happy days. Leather Jacket included.
They started to crack down on smoking in the schoolyard. Not that it bothered me none, because I didn't smoke and neither did my friends. We all thought it was a filthy habit. Yet it was very popular back then that said people who did smoked, drank, and did drugs were the cool people. Unless you were a jock in football or basketball or both, I was in neither. As I have said before, I hated those kinds of sports because I couldn't understand the logic behind it. Found it bored me to tears chasing a stupid ball and getting creamed for it.
Even hairstyles like spiked or Mohawk like Mr. T and dying your hair in different neon colors. Their current task involved taking and removing everything, but the plan was not yet set in stone. It was a common belief among most of us youngsters that the individuals occupying the school board, whom we viewed as snobbish, had not engaged in sexual activities for a considerable duration.
Stuck in the nineteen hundreds they wore all their shirts buttoned to the very top and tucked in. Wearing time-dated fifties clothing, showing no skin whatsoever. One of those stuck up 'more righteousness than thou.' Telling us we were all going to hell for missing one Sunday in church. They always give a fire and brimstone speech at the pulpit because they see us kids and parents deep in sin and corruption.
The truth be known that only added more wood to the fire because telling us kids not to do it made us want to do it even more. Drugs, Smoking, and Porn I could understand, but to take our rights what to wear what we wanted within reason was just plain wrong, or the music we wanted to listen to.
When they felt Elvis Presley and the Monkeys were sinful and wrong back in their parents' day, they were the bomb to them. Whereas our music was just as corrupt and with the style of clothing that came with it you would think they had become their own self-righteous parents.
Thankfully, those stuck-up morons are now buried in their local cemetery. Or our freedom would have been taken away a long time ago. We might as well have been Amish living in the dark ages. We were known as the Anti-Christ or Satanic Children all because we didn't like our freedoms being taken away.
Mom and Dad weren't like that when it came to nudism and exploring our sexual desires. We were taught upfront about safe sex and what our limits and boundaries were. They became less strict regarding LDS principles because of one bad bishop, but unlike me, they still believed in prayer and family coming first.
But even that was waning because of Shawn and what he'd been doing and how the church treated Jody as if it was her fault for being raped and the fact, we truly believed Bishop Crawford was bad and a corrupted man. Selling drugs to ward members and prostitution and child sex rings to keep the coffers in his pockets and only helping ward members who believed fully into his corrupted ways and teachings. Not the members that needed his help, but the ones that were willing to sell their souls to him.
Knowing that Shawn had been exposed as a sexual abuser and a child rapist, tensions escalated further within certain segments of the ward. It was unfortunate that they had lost so many longtime friends who now actively avoided them. More like running in a different direction rather than mingling with us. Others were not so cruel, but understanding, but I can say the LDS church was no longer at the forefront anymore, because of how the people in the church treated us.
Dad still made us pray morning, noon, and night and we still had family home evening and we still watched the LDS conference. He stopped making us write what we learned in church and present it. If we missed church or a meeting, he didn't care. Many times, he talked about moving back to the nudist colony or changing wards. The very idea that Crawford was still trying to work himself into position said that something was wrong up at the top or they didn't get the memo.
I would like to say we had great amazing sex all night long when we came home from the movies. But it was ruined, finding several ward members standing guard over our house and street bearing arms, stopping us from going inside until the police arrived. Watching Dad pull over telling us all to do the same. Dad's face was unreadable as he told Bishop Earl to keep our little brothers and sisters in the car until he told them it was safe.
I begin to panic seeing the satanic symbols painted in red paint on the barn and dead animals nailed to the front of our front door. My first thought was of Sparky and our horses. I noticed that the horses were safe as men watched over them with rifles in their hands, standing far enough apart yet keeping a good eye on them. I couldn't wait. I needed to know about my dog Sparky, yet not wanting to know, not hearing any barking. That one familiar bark I knew so well. Nothing was going to hold me back as I ran towards the house, brushing the door open with dead animals nailed to it.
I was told to stop hearing a shotgun click, and the lamp in the living room came on. Brother Scott Niles my old scoutmaster, was sitting on the couch in the living room holding a shotgun. When he saw it was me, he breathed a sigh of relief, putting down the gun.
Sparky started barking inside my room. I breathed a sigh of relief. I immediately opened the door, finding him unharmed and untouched. I told him to stay put and closed the door. One of the first things I had noticed as I came out of my room was the stench that waited for us as we walked into the house and acted Bishop Sakes sitting on the couch in the family room. Watched the doors holding a shotgun as the police showed up moments later.
When we walked into the kitchen, we found dead crows nailed to the kitchen cupboards. Words dipped in blood telling us that we needed to move and calling us every foul word they could think of, and papers littering the floor all over the house.
Telling us we don't belong here. To release Shawn and Arthur, pleading their innocence of the crimes we think they had committed. To give them up to ward members with their names listed below to be placed in their custody so they could provide love and understanding in their home and raise them up to be good LDS decent folk. Instead of treating them like the common criminals, treating them like animals, degrading them in public. Telling us we are the ones committing the crimes, not them.
Other papers stating Bishop Crawford is a man of God, doing God's work while people like us who worship the devil should be nailed and burned to a cross or leave and never come back. Other papers list all the things they would like to do to us, and that they should do to us. The act of bringing down a man of God and replacing him with someone who worships the devil, simply because he was our friend, is a grave betrayal of God's chosen.
On the walls were many satanic symbols painted on Mom's pristine white walls. Some are unfinished, most likely because they didn't get a chance to. It could have been worse if Dad didn't have an alarm system and didn't have close neighbors always watching the house when we were not home. Or when the alarm goes off notifying everyone within the entire block that something is wrong; or the fact we had a neighborhood watch in place ever since the last time this happened.
Yet the sad thing was not everyone was caught, except for two people out of fifteen were tied up to the fence with their ski masks ripped off as we waited for the police to handle it. We weren't allowed further into the house until the police arrived so they could gather evidence, which was very little considering they were all wearing masks and gloves of some sort, and taking pictures of the damage.
The two people that were caught didn't know a lot other than they were told to come here when given the word, either by phone or a note on the door as someone rang the doorbell and ran. I didn't know them personally. I had seen them a time or two in the ward but really didn't know them, hell I didn't even know they hated us. Not once had they said anything to me other than sneer at me as when I came near them when Bishop Sakes was put in as acting Bishop while Crawford was being investigated.
It was planned, and no one knew by who other than the fact they hated the Rothwells and were told if you wanted them gone to come and bring items that would tell them they hated us. Pulling out a list of what these two people were to bring.
They spat in Dad's face when he demanded them to tell him who was responsible. They laughed at him when he said he had it all on tape. True, the tape didn't show a lot other than the numbers that broke into the house all wearing ski masks and gloves carrying the items they were told to bring.
We got one thing, but it was only a good guess that Crawford was behind it. When they used his name, they smiled and said. "If he did, God spoke to him telling us … you are plotting to destroy him and his church." It wasn't proof, but it had the markings stating he was behind it.
Because he had failed to get custody of Shawn and Arthur in the courts or have us all taken away from Mom and Dad and put me in Juvenile Hall. Waiting for a prison date for being the one that raped and abused young boys like my three brothers and others in our neighborhood and our ward, doing drugs and selling them on the streets. The very crimes Shawn, Arthur, and their friends were guilty of, still trying to pin it all on me and Shane.
Dad would have torn them apart if the police weren't there as they placed them in the back of the police car, for the destruction of private property and vandalism. This said they wouldn't be in jail long and would most likely be out after paying a heavy fine. If it wasn't for Brother Nile's calling in reinforcements until the police arrived. It could have been a lot worse. Seeing the chain on the basement door hanging by a thread, but still locked and them still safely locked inside their rooms.
Greg said they tore their rooms apart trying to break the doors down and break the shatterproof glass trying to get out. Dad said he was going to put bars on their windows and have their doors made out of solid steel and bolted shut just like the ones in prison. He was considering giving them prison beds after seeing theirs basically ruined. He was so furious that nobody dared get near him.
Our night was ruined as we stayed at our friend's houses as our home was sealed off with police tape. Only allowed to take a change of clothes and things we could put inside a pillowcase and things we could carry that would get us through the weekend, if necessary, but as it looked it most likely just be overnight.
I grabbed my books and brand-new typewriter, and Greg grabbed my old one and his books with a change of clothes. We grabbed everything we would need for our assignments. As well as Stringham's receipt boxes, not wanting anyone but me or Greg sniffing around them and my photo albums. We watched as they sealed the doors shut and put up a police barricade until the cops were done. Dad called my old employer to take the horses until we could fix this mess.
Greg and I stayed with Ron and his family, with my dog Sparky, as well as my mother. We could have gone home to my mother's house, but with my father being home and being it was three in the morning, it just wasn't worth it. We didn't have sleeping bags because those had been ruined, and slashed to pieces with a knife. They would have killed Sparky and the horses if Brother Niles didn't fire his shotgun. Making the ones outside run for the hills, and the ones in our house hightailed it out of there before reinforcements arrived.
Neither Greg nor I could sleep, so we both got up and worked on our papers. By 8 a.m. we both finally fell asleep at the table. We were nudged awake by Ron's mother, as I jerked awake seeing the clock on the wall. My typewriter was still purring along, but I had finished both papers. Just waiting for Mom and Dad's approval and Mom's red pin. Greg's too was finished.
We had canceled our dates entirely because of what happened last night. It didn't seem fair to us to have fun and mind-blowing sex while my home was invaded. I needed to be with my family, not enjoying myself and certainly not pleasuring someone else. Hoping that I could ignore the world around me. The only reason Greg and his family were still here was because they were here to give us support. Even Cindy called in sick today and Jody was doing her best to keep us all upbeat. Telling me it's not as bad as it looks compared to last time.
Yet I could see the fear in her eyes as she relived the horrors that had taken place. Knowing it happened, as she was being raped, people were destroying our lives because they hated us. Why they hated us was inconceivable when we had done nothing wrong. We had not so much as stepped a foot out of place except to state that Bishop Crawford was a very bad and corrupted man. How corrupted we didn't know at the time. We know now he tried to get me and Shane to sell drugs for him. He tried to rape my brother Jason inside his office and give him drugs.
All of it is on hearsay and so far, no charges have been filed or he would be in jail by now. We know he was behind this; we know he was behind destroying private land that we frequently like to visit. We know he was behind having Jody raped and our house vandalized like last time. He may not be the one doing it personally, but he is the one behind it. Proving it has not been easy because he hasn't yet done any of it himself where he can be caught with his hands inside the cookie jar, but we know he was the mastermind behind it all.
Instead of a fun day, it was a day of clean-up. It's amazing what a can of fresh paint can do, and a little elbow grease. Like I said it could have been a lot worse than it was, watching Dad dig a hole and burn those papers with the dead animals. Our home was almost back to normal by suppertime. It was like nothing really happened and as if it was just a bad dream.
The damage was basically on the walls, and nothing was seriously damaged this time, and we had plenty of help with the cleanup. None of the bedrooms were damaged except for the kitchen, living room, and the family room and the entryway that required walls needed fresh paint and the carpets cleaned.
We only had to buy three new doors for the house. Dad had his homeowner's insurance guy do a quick estimate of the damage after the police had everything they needed. Not there was much to go on even with the videotape. There was very little they could do except put our house on a watch list. He suggested putting some sort of gate at the top of our road and putting more cameras in the house and on the property.
We cringed because it was taking our rights of privacy away, but Dad said they would only record … when the alarm is triggered. I saw the bill estimated, and it was in the thousands. We weren't rich, so Dad did what he could do, doing most of the work ourselves, by installing a cheap gate that when it opened the cameras went off. And to think we lived in a quiet neighborhood and 99% were supposed to be good LDS people; it just proves you don't really know your neighbors.