Fighting for Farmington: Destruction is Inevitable (Harmony Series Book 2)

by JR Thompson

“I said… there… there is a God. It’s about time Titus got busted doin’ something he’s not supposed to.”

  “Scottie, depart the room!” Brock ordered.

  “You never make him leave the room when I get in trouble.”

  “Scottie, NOW!” Brock commanded. “Titus, HAVE A SEAT!”

  Titus sat and directed his eyes toward the floor. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t perpetually cut it. Just because you’re seventeen doesn’t qualify you as being an adult. When you reside beneath someone else’s roof, you are required to adhere to their guidelines.”

  Tears began welling up in Titus’s eyes. He was broken-hearted over Ericka and the last thing he wanted to do was return home to be lectured about his misbehavior like a naughty little boy. He did everything within his grasp to permit Brock and Victoria from seeing the tears he was trying to hold back as Brock continued scolding him.

  “Even if you were an adult, the responsible thing to do is to apprise people of your whereabouts. If something would have befallen you, we would have had no inclination where to even commence searching.”

  “I apologize already. Okay?” Titus replied.

  Scottie’s voice suddenly sounded from around the corner, “Here, Dad. Just in case you decide you need it.” He entered the room with the paddle in hand and laid it on the couch in front of Brock.

  “Scottie, I believe I told you to depart.”

  “You did, but I was trying to be helpful.” Following Titus’s example from before, Scottie granted Titus a playful wink and left the room.

  “What do you have to say in your own defense? I deserve an explanation,” Brock insisted.

  Titus sat quietly for a moment before saying, “I’ll tell you where I was, but can we wait a little while? I’m kind of upset right now.”

  “What do you suppose would befall Scottie if he departed the dwelling without informing us of his abode?”

  Titus nodded toward the paddle. “He’s your son and barely thirteen, so he’d probably get a warm backside.”

  Scottie peeked his head around the corner, hoping Titus was about to get it.

  “What if Scottie was older? Let’s say seventeen. Then what do you speculate would transpire?” Brock asked, picking up the board.

  Titus squirmed around nervously. “I would hope you would realize that he’d be too old for a spanking and you’d deliver him a grand lecture or perhaps take away some privileges.”

  “You’re under the impression a seventeen-year-old’s too old for a paddling, huh?”

  Titus didn’t know how to answer that question. If he responded with a yes, he was certain Brock was going to tell him he was wrong or that maybe he was way overdue for one and he was going to wear him out. If he responded with a no, he’d be telling Brock it was okay to deliver him a whipping.

  Seeing Titus wasn’t exactly ready to answer, Brock continued, “You know how old I was the last time a belt was administered to my flesh?... Nineteen.”

  Titus let out a gasp of disbelief.

  Brock continued, “I’m entirely austere. I was a legal adult and my grandfather most thoroughly tanned by posterior.”

  “Your grandfather? Not even your dad?”

  “Nope, my grandfather. He caught me drinking and offered me two options. I could sanction him to thump the fire out of me or he was going to notify the authorities and I would have to explain to them where I got it. I didn’t want to snitch on my friend and his parents, I didn’t want my folks to know what I did. So I consented to the strapping.”

  “But he was your grandpa. Probably didn’t use too much force, huh?”

  “You would be surprised. Grandpa labored on a farm most of his life. He knew how to swing that belt and believe me, it left a lasting impression.”

  Titus’s eyes hit the floor again as he reflected back to his own drinking escapade with Remington. Nope, he was not about to confess to that. No way, no how. “So you’re saying if a man who wasn’t your own father whipped you when you were nineteen, there would be nothing wrong a man who’s not my father whipping me when I’m seventeen?”

  “I didn’t say any such thing. Just telling you a story. So what do you presume? Do you deserve a paddling?”

  Titus glanced up at Brock and then over at Victoria. His face turned red out of pure embarrassment that the conversation was even taking place. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

  “Sure you do. Let’s reverse roles. Let’s say you are the adult. I’m seventeen and you let me come and stay in your house. You set rules for me and I flagrantly violate them. You’ve tried conversing with me regarding things in the past. You’ve had me compose statements. But you’re not confident I’m taking you seriously. Would you consider taking a paddle to me?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been a parent,” Titus challenged. “This conversation is just gettin’ weird.”

  “Is it that you’ve never been a parent or is it that you don’t want to answer the weird question because you are afraid of the consequence?”

  “Please, Brock. I’m seventeen. I haven’t been spanked since I was probably eleven or twelve. I’m almost a grown man. Please don’t paddle me.”

  Brock dropped the paddle on the floor. “I’m not intending to — this time. But I want to make it crystal clear that you’ve not aged out of that possibility. You had better not depart from this dwelling again without consent. You know the rules and we expect them to be fully adhered to.”

  “But Dad!” Scottie protested, coming around the corner. “He took off and you don’t even know where he was. If you let him off the hook, he’s gonna do it again.”

  Brock bent down and picked the paddle back up. “Scottie, march to your room. You and I need to have a chat about disobedience. It’s not acceptable for you to continuously interfere while I’m trying to deal with Titus.”

  33: Turning Point

  Read my Bible? For half an hour?... Why? Scottie questioned internally. I didn’t even deserve the spanking. Let alone to have another consequence dumped in my lap.

  His dad opened his door back up. “I might ask you to summarize what you’ve been reading so make sure you don’t just lay there pouting… and actually, now that I think of it, leave this door open.”

  Scottie rolled his eyes and picked up his Bible. Flipping it open, he began skimming for a story — preferably a familiar one in case he was asked to summarize it.

  Before long he stumbled upon the book of Jonah and began half-heartedly reading about the preacher getting swallowed by a whale. This one’ll be easy enough, he told himself. I’ll just stare at it til Dad tells me the time’s up.

  He glanced at Jonah 1:1 for five minutes and had to nearly force himself not to read it. He won’t know if I’m reading or not. I don’t have to do this, he told himself. At the same time, his eyes were tired of staring at the same phrase.

  After another minute or so, he began reading. Before he knew what had happened, he had read the entire book of Jonah and found himself intrigued by the fact that Jonah had been so angry with God for sparing the people of Nineveh.

  Jonah was a baby. Those people hadn’t done anything to him. He hated them for no reason and wanted to see God wipe ‘em out… I’d never do that.

  He flipped back through the pages again as he continued in thought. Then again, why did I hand Dad the paddle? Why did I get mad when Dad didn’t whoop Titus?

  Not sure why, Scottie flipped back to the first chapter and read the story through a second time. Jonah didn’t want to preach to those people because they were wicked. Cause they were doing everything God didn’t approve of. Wonder how Jonah would’ve felt about me?... Wonder how God feels?

  “Okay, God. It’s me again. Look, I know you’re real now. But I think I’ve been doin’ some things I shouldn’t. Always talking back to Mom and Dad. I’m sure you’re not mad at me about standing up for myself when I get blamed for things I didn’t do. But sometimes you know I lie when I do get caught in things and well, G
od, I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is I’m sorry.”

  Scottie opened his eyes and looked down at the Bible in his lap. He thought back to that conversation he had with Brother Kyle over at the church. The one where Kyle asked him if he was saved. I’ve heard quite a few messages preached since that morning. I know how a person gets saved and what they get saved from. But if I died right now… I wouldn’t go to Heaven. I’m not God’s child. My soul belongs to the devil.

  Getting down off of his bed, Scottie knelt, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. “God, now I guess I understand why my prayers aren’t very good ones. I’ve never accepted Your gift of salvation. I’m not a Christian like everybody else in this house. No wonder I’m always in trouble. God, I’ve been told there’s not any magic words I have to say to get saved. Good thing cause I don’t have a good memory and wouldn’t be able to recite ‘em anyway. So I guess what I’m sayin’ is this — I know I’ve sinned. Lots and lots of times. I know I deserve to spend the rest of my life down below. I don’t even want to say the name of that place. I definitely haven’t done anything good enough to get to go to Heaven. But, if I understand it right, You sent your Son to die for me. You said I could go to Heaven if I just believe He died for my sins and rose again. Well, I believe all of that. And I want to be saved. God, will you save me? I’m ready to accept Your gift of salvation.”

  34: Blame Game

  Sunday morning Titus couldn’t help but notice Ericka wasn’t with her grandparents. Wasting no time, he approached Steve and asked if she was okay. Unfortunately, Steve provided him the answer no one ever wants to hear — “I’ll fill you in after church, man. Okay?”

  Great, Titus told himself. Something’s wrong. He had a terrible time paying attention during the service. His mind was reeling. Is Ericka so upset with me that she won’t even come to church? Is she sick? Did she and Steve get in a fight? I love that girl. I know I promised to leave her alone if she heard me out and still didn’t want to give me a chance, but my heart aches for her.

  The Sunday School service didn’t go quite as long as usual, so it was announced there would be a ten-minute break before the Morning Worship hour began. Titus went straight to Steve and asked if they could chat outside. He was relieved when Steve obliged.

  Once in private, Steve informed him Ericka was okay but was seriously struggling emotionally and wasn’t sure if she could handle being in the same building with Titus — not just yet anyway. That’s not all he had to say. Steve claimed his family had been having some interesting discussions around the dinner table — about the fires. Rumors were circulating. Somehow people found out that the Russells suspected Scottie had burned down the shoe store. “You live with the kid, man. What do you think? Did he do it?”

  “Scottie?... Well, it’s a possibility. Brock’s already whipped him for being out of the house and for getting caught with a lighter in his pocket.”

  “So he was caught sneaking out and had the means to do the damage, but you still only say it’s a possibility?... Why’s that? Do you have reason to believe it could’ve been somebody else?”

  “I don’t know. I try not to get too involved, but something did happen the other day that Brock’s not talking about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you know a guy named Edward?... He’s been a part of several building projects before.”

  “Oh, yeah... He’s definitely a bit on the odd side. Arsonist? Not so sure. But odd, definitely.”

  “Well, get this! The other day he showed up at the building site. He was plastered! Brock told him to leave and the guy claimed it was a real shame that the last building site got destroyed and he hoped nothing happened to this one. He was threatening Brock and telling him he didn’t know who he was messing with.”

  “I don’t know,” Steve replied. “I expect that guy’s all talk. Personally, I feel like it’s Scottie. But to be completely honest, my family has a couple of other ideas in mind.”

  “Really? Like who?” Titus asked.

  “Remington for one. It’s usually the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Think about it — the pleasant, quiet, straight-laced kid. Nobody would ever suspect him… The last structure that caught fire just happened to be his father’s store. Coincidence? Maybe, but some people aren’t so sure.”

  “Nah, man,” Titus chuckled. “Definitely not Remington. He doesn’t have it in him. Believe me, I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Cause I’ve spent a lot of time with the kid. I would dare to say right now we’re all suspicious of everyone. Even though I hadn’t mentioned it, for a little while I kinda reasoned it might be you.”

  “Me?” Steve asked. “Why me?”

  “Gee, I wonder!” Titus laughed. “The guy who attacks people in church. The guy who comes down to a building site to try to kill a guy for talkin’ to his sister. Not to mention the fact that ever since you got saved, nothing else has burned down or been destroyed.”

  Suddenly Steve’s face got a little serious. “You said you used to think that, but it sounds like you still consider me a suspect.”

  “Not really, man. Just saying I understand why you would have reservations about Remington. We all jump to conclusions.”

  “No hard feelings. I get it. Just like how my sister worries about your potential involvement.”

  “What?... Are you serious?... Ericka suggested that?”

  “She sure did. I doubt she meant it though. She’s hurt and is trying to figure out how to justify her feelings.”

  Pastor O’Malley interrupted their conversation. “Time for the service to start guys,” he hollered from the door.

  Titus thought it had been hard to pay attention during the Sunday School hour. That little chat with Steve didn’t help matters. During Morning Worship, he couldn’t get his mind off their conversation — especially about the fact that Ericka had suspected him of committing arson.

  The day was far from over though. When the services let out, Titus and the Pearsons were shocked to find Collin on their porch. “Guys, I need help,” he pleaded. “My family’s conspiring against me.”

  “How so?” Brock asked.

  “They’re following me around, eavesdropping on my phone conversations, making up stories about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re planning to have me committed to some kind of insane asylum. Can you imagine that?... Me?... Collin Russell?... Locked up like some lunatic?”

  Scottie giggled.

  “What’s so funny, little man?” Collin asked.

  “You sound like the kids at school. Everybody constantly accusing people of talkin’ bad about ‘em. You sound like a big baby.”

  Brock and Victoria eyed one another for a second; Victoria ordered Scottie into the house.

  “Why am I always being sent away? Just for tellin’ the truth? No! I’m not going this time. That’s not fair!”

  “You know better than to speak to me in that manner,” Victoria snapped. “Go inside, NOW.”

  “So Titus gets to stay out here and I don’t? That’s not fair!”

  “Okay, pal. That does it. After our company leaves, your dad is going to issue you a good, hard spanking. You cannot mouth off to us like that. Do what you’re told, NOW.”

  “No! I’m not going and you can’t make me.”

  With that, Titus grabbed Scottie’s arm. “I’ve got this,” he volunteered. He dragged Scottie into the house and forced him to sit on the couch. “You’ve got to grow up, man. Can’t you see Collin’s struggling? He’s been going through a lot. Cut the guy some slack.”

  “Why should I?”

  “To honor your parents if nothing else.”

  “Like you honored yours by running away from home? Why should I listen to a runaway?”

  “Cause I messed up and I regret it. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

  Scottie was determined to get the last word. “If you regret it, why don’t you go back home then?”

  Titus p
aused for a moment — that was a well-thought-out question. “This isn’t about me right now. It’s about you. You need to submit to the adults in your life. I shouldn’t have had to drag you in here. As a matter of fact, you should’ve kept your mouth closed on the porch and nobody would’ve told you to come in the house to begin with.”

  Before their conversation could go any further, the boys heard the sound of tires squalling out of the driveway. Ordering Scottie to sit still, Titus meandered to the window and peeked out to find Brock and Victoria kneeling on the porch, praying together. He wasn’t sure what had been spoken by whom or where Collin had taken off to, but he knew it must have been bad.

  Several minutes later, Brock and Victoria stepped back inside and told the boys Collin needed divine intervention. They had no idea if or when he might return, but whenever that happened, they were both to stay in their rooms.

  “Speaking of rooms,” Brock directed, “Scottie, you and I have some business to tend to.”

  “Ah, Dad!” Scottie whined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Too late for that. You’ve merited yourself a paddling and you’re going to get it. To make the implication sink in a little more, after church tonight you’re going to proceed straight to bed without banqueting.”

  “Without dinner? That’s abuse! You can’t do that!”

  “I can and I will.”

  35: Fiery Double

  “Church, I’ll tell you what’s missing in the lives of a lot of Christians,” Pastor O’Malley thundered during the evening service. “PRAYER. I don’t mean this ‘Now I lay me down to sleep’ garbage. I’m referring to real, genuine, life-changing prayer.”

  For twenty-five minutes, the pastor hammered on prayer and the impact it can have on a person’s life. He talked about how the Bible says a person ought to speak with God in secret and about how God would reward them openly.

  Victoria got a lot out of the message. She realized she had been falling short in the area of prayer. Of course she asked God to bless her meals. She always called on Him when she needed something. But to simply thank God. To praise Him through prayer. To get alone with Him. Yes, something was missing alright.