The morning after the Fourth of July, John woke up at seven to make a fresh pot of coffee. He slugged his way to the living room to pick up the accumulated mail. John dumped coupons and a JC Penny catalog inside a small tin wastebasket situated next to a desk he used to write his sermons and organize church functions. The manila envelope which caught his eye last evening beckoned to be opened.
"Hmm how odd it has no return address," John fingered the envelope on his way back to the kitchen. He poured a generous amount of strong black coffee in a #1 Dad ceramic mug, Adam made for him in kindergarten. The pastor added a dash of hazelnut creamer and a teaspoon of brown sugar.
John inhaled the aroma of grounded coffee beans and hazelnut. He blew on the mug before taking a large gulp. John smiled as he sat on the desk chair. He set the mug on top of a "What Would Jesus Do?" corkscrew coaster. The pastor ripped the envelope open.
He furrowed his thick brows upon seeing a disc inside. Curiosity got the best of the pastor. He turned on the laptop and inserted the disc. The content turned out to be a video; a badly made one by the way. Obviously the footage was filmed with a cellphone.
John frowned. He disapproved highly of strip clubs. The footage was shaky. The pastor's forefinger was less than an inch away from clicking on the laptop's mouse. The Novak kid appeared on screen sitting on a red velvet couch. A stripper gave him a lap dance. The view expanded and John's heart stopped beating for a few seconds. Dean, his first born son sat across from them. He glared daggers at the blonde whore.
Dean stood up and pushed the whore away from Castiel. John regurgitated the little bit of coffee he drank earlier, after seeing his son dry hump the Novak boy in front of all the club goers. The pastor wiped spittle from his mouth. His fingers tightened hard around the ceramic mug. John completely lost it after seeing Dean hop on stage and lower his pants. His eyes remained rooted on the red panties Dean wore.
John pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you punishing me God? This must be a test. Dean cannot be homosexual."
Three minutes later the video came to an end. John's nostrils flared. He thought his molars were going to crack due to his clenching his jaw so damn hard. John tossed the mug across the room. It crashed against a bookshelf before splitting into three pieces. His hands shook violently as he made his way up the stairs.
John didn't bother knocking on Dean's bedroom door. He opened the door and entered his son's room. Dean was sleeping and oblivious to what was going on around him. John slammed the door hard. Dean jumped in bed. He wiped his bleary eyes before opening them.
The teen heard someone opening his dresser drawers. Dean realized his dad was in his room snooping through his things. Dean panicked. "Dad, what are you doing?!" His voice cracked. Dean rocketed out of bed.
John tossed articles of clothing on the floor. "Dad, please stop!"
The pastor found what he was searching for. Underneath his son's underwear lay four pairs of panties. John swallowed hard. He held in his large hand two of them. The pastor waved them in front of Dean's face.
"When did you get these?! Now you want to be a woman? What else are you hiding? Will I find dresses in the back of your closet?" John slapped Dean on the cheek with the panties.
He stormed over to the closet. John searched everything until he was satisfied not to have found anything incriminating. Dean sat on the corner of his bed clutching the panties. "You disgust me. Your mother must be rolling in her grave."
