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Inar sat in a box pew with his mother and four brothers. He was an elegant young man with golden hair and azure eyes. His mind tried to follow father Simon’s words as he spoke passionately of God, however, his eyes sought to wander to the left. “Such beauty…” he said in a hushed tone whilst looking over the stained windows. The glass depicted stories from the bible; From Noah’s arc to the creation of the ten commandment’s which Inar so deliberately sought to follow. It seemed easy to be human when you were raised in denial. There is no guilt in such ignorance. No sin could affect his saintlike stature.
“Inar, pay attention. You will need to confess once more.” Anne stated with formal ferocity. She was Inar’s mother. A delicate woman, with roughed edges. She was old with age, and every wrinkle showed her wryness even more than her expressionless sighs. Poor Anne had 8 children to a man with no income, and from this, no life. Alas, she never married for love and preached this to her children. “Pardon mother? What have I done that is needing of confessing?” Inar said in soft tones as to not disrupt the church service. Anne scoffed, “You won’t pay attention. You’re too busy being obsessed with the beauty the Lord has granted us…” Inar interrupted her frustrations.
“Why should we not enjoy God's gift of beauty, Mother?” Inar’s argument was interrupted by Father Simon. “Young man! Is there a reason you have disrupted the word of the Lord?” The father seemed irate as well as the other parishioners. Inar stood, “My mother said I need to focus on your words instead of god’s beauty he’s granted us.” He felt that his argument was strong against his mothers. Anne buried her face into her hands with embarrassment. “Inar please.” she beckoned him to sit. “Your mother is right! Those who do not listen to the word of the Lord are destined for damnation. I am going to have to ask you to leave until you are a pious man. I will have no more interruptions from you. Be gone.” He continued his preaching without another thought.
Inar looked to his mother with despair, “Mother?” His weak voice rang in her ear as she ignored his folly. “Go,” Anne said, keeping her gaze from Inar’s. He took in a swallow and opened the side gate to the box pew. Inar hung his head in shame as he left through the mahogany opening. As he walked outside, Inar looked to the sky. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d only done what he was taught to do. Inar appreciated everything life had to offer. What God had given him. The young man realized he’s 20 now, so he might as well be the adult his mother always wanted him to be.
Inar took a breath, taking in the scents of the mossy aroma of flowers and bushes growing nearby. He lived in a small city known as Bronte in Italy. The Busy street couldn’t faze Inar. It was time to search for a job. Perhaps he could work at the bank? Or the grocery store? Maybe just maybe mother would let him help at home. He was too skinny and fragile to do any heavy labour like his brothers. Inar was snapped from his trance, by a man calling out to him. “Hey, you there. Inar! come, and help me unload this luggage!” It was a short and stout hairy man. His name was Carlile.
Carlile was sent off a few months before escort a young new priest to the church. “Is the new priest here?” Inar asked inquisitively. Carlile laughed, “Yes. He is asleep in the carriage, but before you begin questioning him, help me with these.” He began pulling the luggage down to Inar’s level. Inar took one bag from Carlile. He struggled to carry it. “My goodness! It’s heavy.” The new priest's bag hit the ground. “Maybe this isn’t for you. The only thing you’d be good for is sewing and lying on your back.” Carlile gave a haughty laugh. Inar wasn’t very amused. He had a lot of respect for women and didn’t like when men would put them down. It isn't their fault.
“Anyways. What else can I do Carlile?” Inar asked furrowing his brow. He wanted to say something to the extent of, “Do Not say things like that! Do you think of your mother like that,” but instead he held his tongue. “There isn’t much else for you to do. Damn, you’ve gotten his things all dirty.” Carlile barked shoving him out of the way. “Wake him up and tell him what you have done Inar,” Carlile said and he got on one knee, trying to check the luggage over. “Lord, I wonder why your mother hadn’t sent you away.” He said under his breath but Inar heard every word of it. He felt like a nuisance.
Inar knocked on the door to the carriage, and with no answer, he opened it slightly ajar. “Excuse me father, are you awake?” Inar called for him. The priest let out a long yawn. “Yes my child, what is it?” he poked his head out. “Oh, We’ve arrived.” His name was Arron. He was 36, and quite handsome with his chestnut hair and hazel eyes. “Father, please forgive me… I’ve dropped your bag” Inar’s words trailed off as he looked into Arron’s eyes. It felt like he was getting butterflies in his stomach. What was this new feeling? Did the priest feel it too? Arron did but brushed it off as anxiety.
“My bag?” He laughed feeling carefree, “Don’t worry about that old thing. Also, you should wait to do confessions and asking for forgiveness after service. Speaking of…” He was hinting that there was no reason Inar should not be in service. “I was asked to leave for being a disruption…” Inar said feeling red in the face. Carlile interrupted, “Just like every Sunday? This boy is a nuisance. You might as well ban him.” Inar seemed deterred from speaking any further. “Well, you seem quite pleasant, Mr?” The priest asked. “Inar.” He awkwardly stuck a hand out for him, which the father took it graciously.
The butterflies came back to the priest, so he pulled away quickly and asked. “Will you be my company for showing me around town Inar?” Inar nodded. “Yes, father. I would be delighted.” He could help but smile at the priest. Arron became fully aware of what Inar was. He was undoubtedly beautiful, but awkwardly scrawny, clumsy and naive. Inar could pass as an unkempt woman at best. Perhaps the world would be a little nicer if he was a woman. Feminine charm could’ve kept him out of trouble. “Why do you keep disrupting Mass, inar? Is there something more important than God’s word?” Father Arron said quietly to Inar.
“No, I was just appreciating what God has given us. The birds, the trees, The stained windows, the church bells, the,” Before Inar could finish his list church was over and an outpour of people came. Old women and their husbands. The young babies are being carried by the newlyweds and Inar’s brothers and mother. “Inar please stop annoying everyone you meet!” His mother cried out in hysteria. All Arron could do was laugh, “Your son is very special. Perhaps he would be better at preaching than listening.” This made both Inar and his mother smile. His four brothers, Antonio, Giovani, Guiseppe, and Angelo, stood to the side.
They looked like hard-working men, with dark complections, hair and eyes. The four were quadruplets, which gave their mother the nickname miracle Anne. She had the title for 37 years. They were quite protective of their fragile younger brother. The poor kid finally was given a chance.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
