Church and State

Chapter One

I pick up a bundle of asparagus and pressure the stems. They were a little mushy, but I couldn't be bothered to sort through the mountainous pile of asparagus to find a decently firm bundle. I scurry up behind my mother, and toss it in her shopping basket. She turned around and smiled at me. Her hair is pulled tightly into a neat bun, as it always in out in public. The way the strands of hair tugged at her delicate skin on her face, seemed to age her. She always wanted to make sure she looked like a reserved mother though. It was the easiest hairstyle to appear well maintained instead of enduring the daily struggle and countless burns imposed by a curling iron.

We walked up to the cashiers till. A younger lady around my age rang through our vegetables, fruits, dairy, meats and numerous boxes of macaroni and cheese. Keagan and I seemed to always gravitate to boxed, artificially cheesy meals on weekend during our binge session of twelve episodes of "Frankford's Town." Well, after our ever so dreaded 11am bible study at the church, of course.

I pushed the over-filled grocery cart toward the parking lot as mother searched for our car in the sea of vehicles. Mother unlocked the car door with a simple click of a button and two delayed beeps and popped the trunk. She sat in the front seat as I stuffed the abundant number of bags into a trunk the size of a large luggage bag. I plopped into the passenger seat.

"Did you manage to get them all in?" Mother chuckled.

"Somehow yes. Might have squished the asparagus though."

"Oh well, we will just blanch them anyways. Could have been the mac and cheese."

"Don't even say that for God's sake, it would be a complete nightmare," I finished my sentence and covered my mouth immediately, "Sorry, mother."

Even though, I've been religious for four whole months now, sometimes I forget what is viewed as offensive to some Christianity believers.

"You're very lucky that we are in the car"

"I know, sometimes it just slips though."

"It's okay, darling. It happens, but you know what you have to do now."

My hand hovering above my chest, I signed the holy cross.

"Keagan," my voice echoed down the hallway, "Mother and I got food."

I counted down, and within three seconds; Keagan busted out of his room. I added, "but you can only have some if you put away the groceries."

I smirked. Keagan hated, and I mean passionately hated putting away groceries. We did the shopping, it was only fair that he put them away.

"But you know it just makes me hungry," he sulked, like he was four years old all over again. Not that I remember what he was like when he was four, but that's how I would imagine him.

"Keagan, for God – I mean for goodness sakes, a five-year-old could make up a better excuse than that." Wow, I almost let it slip twice in one day.

"But it's, true. I get so hungry while doing it, but I can't eat the food until all the groceries have been put away."

"Keagan, it'll take ten minutes."

"Fine."

Keagan was right though. One time, when he was about eleven or twelve years old, Keagan got so ridiculously peckish while unpacking the groceries; He ate the whole box of Oreo cookies before he had even put half the groceries away.

While he unpacked the ridiculously large amount of groceries, I snatched a bag of barbeque flavoured chips out of the top of one of the flimsy, plastics bags. I slumped myself onto the couch and grabbed the remote. I scrolled through the channels.

"Adeline!" My mother shouted from upstairs.

"Yes?"

"I forgot to get radishes for dinner tonight, could you please go get some from the farmer's market." I rolled my eyes in response. She always forgets something from the store. Last week it was bacon, the week before it was strawberries and the week before, she managed to forget the main protein for dinner; the freshly caught Atlantic cod that came straight from the dock that very Saturday.

I peeked my head around at the bottom of the staircase, "Okay, I'll be back in a few."

I slipped into my puffy, black coat. I really liked this coat. It had a sheen to it that reflected in the sunlight which made the fabric look like it was made in Paris, though I paid just shy of fifty dollars for it. I zipped it up, just high enough so my chest was completely covered. Before, I would have strutted it with a skimpy, white tank top underneath, zipped up just enough so you could see my cleavage but, not the outline of my breasts' shape.

I grabbed the house keys off the counter top, and closed the door behind me. This was usually the time I'd unzip my jacket to reveal my well-rounded chest, but I did not. Instead I didn't go against rules. Not the ones of my mother, but the ones of my religion and the cameras that watch me daily.

I walked down the street with leisure, taking my sweet time. It was only three o'clock; 3:08pm to be exact. Dinner wouldn't begin stewing until five. The farmer's market seems noticeably busy for this time of day, usually its packed in the morning.

A man waltzed into the market. He was dressed in all black, from head to toe and his hood just covered his eyes. He creeped in, almost at a snail pace. His face looked aged, his skin was creased by his mouth. It was odd attire for a man of his age, usually they were dressed in dark suits or wore button-up shirts with tapered trousers. I watched him as he looked side to side, as if he was afraid he was being watched. But, we are always being watched.

A group of government officials slung their way around the market's corner. The man in black, glanced behind him and booked it. I stared as the oddly dressed man ran and the officials chased after him. The officials held objects that resembled metal rods. They snapped them down, extending them as they tailed close behind. One official reached downward and struck the man's left calf; he stumbled as his body moved in the direction gravity pulled. His cheek hit the pavement first and the rest of his body followed. More of their metal weapons struck his body; he shuttered with every hit. The chief official – whom was dressed in red uniform – pinned the man and mounted atop him.

Before he was placed in hand cuffs, I turned around and ran towards home. A single tear streamed down my face.