Carrying the Cross , livre ebook

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296 pages

English

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Enya Downie, a young girl, moved away from her home in Bermos to start a new life in a new city called Sharon. As a staunch churchgoer, she naively expected all churches were created equal and most Christians were self-sacrificing and friendly. As she experienced and endured abuse from some of the evangelists and others, she was forced to reexamine her ideals. One of those ideals was to face who she truly was. Enya soon learned that her reality was not as simple as she thought and expanded into the unseen world of spirituality. As a being with a higher calling, would she have enough strength and faith to break free of the torment within the church and have the life she wanted with the man of her dreams? God only knows.
Rated 18+

Sujets

Adulte

Romance érotique

BD Erotique

Fantastique

Romance fantastique

Fantasy urbaine

Erotica

Romance

Fiction

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Publié par	Xlibris US
Date de parution	25 juillet 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9798369403518
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Carrying the Cross

Sam Griffith

Copyright © 2023 by Sam Griffith.

ISBN:
Softcover
979-8-3694-0352-5

eBook
979-8-3694-0351-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/25/2023

Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
852897
CONTENTS
Chapter 1 What’s Your Story
Chapter 2 Jesus Why Me
Chapter 3 They Forgot the Sugar
Chapter 4 Damaged Goods
Chapter 5 Storm
Chapter 6 I Claimed Switzerland
Chapter 7 Sugar Daddy
Chapter 8 Hallelujah!
Chapter 9 Goodbye
Chapter 10 Shampoo and Conditioner
Chapter 11 Don’t Look Now
Chapter 12 All Hail the King
Chapter 13 Good Night, Neighbor
Chapter 14 Beautiful
Chapter 15 Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego Again
Chapter 16 TKO
Chapter 17 Your Boyfriend Is Here
Chapter 18 Mama Kat!
Chapter 19 Two Ninjas
Chapter 20 Where Is My Towel?
Chapter 21 The Hurricane
Chapter 22 Home Again
Chapter 23 His Name’s Joseph
Chapter 24 Girl, You Got Game!
Chapter 25 Jack out the Box
Chapter 26 King of the Barbecue
Chapter 1
What’s Your Story
I arrived at the modest, small, ground-level building around 9:30 a.m., which was located on a side street off a main bus route. The church didn’t have the regular church look. It was a flat-topped structure wedged in between a real estate office and another type of business without a name that had a ‘Closed’ sign on the frosted glass door.
This church had no cross or steeples to make it stand out. The Elevate Hope Sharon Community Church was written on a small plaque, above the double wooden doors, but it was not bold; you could miss it if you didn’t know it was there. I wondered if that was on purpose since some churches were being vandalized in the area. According to Velda, this neighborhood was where the “well-to-dos” lived, so that was promising.
I stood on the narrow pavement of the church’s frontage, mindful to shift my position to give the occasional passersby enough room to avoid walking in the street. I didn’t want to wait too close to the church doors because I didn’t want to have to provide a history of my existence to strangers before my “friend” showed up. Well, I called Ratia Bartlett friend, because of a nice conversation we had on the phone, plus my sister Velda knew her. But I never met her face to face.
One of the main things on my to-do list when I moved to Sharon was to find a church. Velda Downie, my older and only sister, was the one who put me onto Ratia. I asked questions about Ratia, but Velda only volunteered Ratia used to come by and speak with her at the door. I knew right away Ratia never made it past the threshold, biblical talk or not. The only thing I really knew about Ratia, so far, was that she had a British accent.
I didn’t push for more information since Velda seemed nonchalant about the whole affair. I figured Ratia was simply someone Velda used to know, so I made the call. The good thing about Velda’s recommendation was that this new church was another branch of the one I attended back in Bermos.
After I got off the phone with Ratia, the thought crossed my mind that I should probably get settled in Sharon first before I started venturing out. But I didn’t want to miss church. I felt that if I missed one church service, it might become a habit. I had seen it happen before. Some of my church-friends back in Bermos stopped coming to church because it was way easier to stay away than to show up.
However, looking back now, I should have given myself more time to explore places, and maybe even people, in this new city. But excitement might have gotten the better of me. I was only looking at the upside. Once I reached Sharon, no one could have prepared me for anything that happened after I stepped off that plane.
When I came through the airport exit doors, I had no idea why I expected to see Velda waiting for me; even after hearing some of Mom’s comments, that would lead anyone to conclude that Velda was really not very happy for me to live with her. Nonetheless, I waited outside those large sliding doors shivering for forty minutes, since my arrival at 11:30 a.m. I dared not wait inside in case she showed up and missed me.
I knew of Sharon’s cold weather, as it was more northern, but I underestimated the idea of colder. Bermos was warm for most of the year but had its cold spells as well. Still, I could say without a shadow of a doubt, my chattering teeth confirmed, that even though my sweater was extra thick, it was no match for that draught of wind that seemed to wrap itself around my body every time the exit doors slid open.
I looked around to find some cover from the wind and ended up huddled in a corner that was nestled behind the exit doors, except I soon came to terms that it was not the best idea. The spot was warmer, but the large column I hid behind from the wind blocked my view of any arriving cars or people. So sadly, back to my original spot, I went.
As time passed, I watched the taxis arrive and depart with people but never the appearance of my sister. It was almost 2:00 p.m., and I was clearly out of excuses to myself to explain Velda’s absence. Was she lost, or did she miss the buses or did not have enough money for a cab? I didn’t know. Maybe I didn’t want to think the worst. Therefore, I called her to see if something happened or when she would come to meet me.
Mom gave me Velda’s contact information, but there was no cell phone number, only Velda’s home and work. I had no cell phone either. And strange enough, I never noticed before when I walked through the terminal there were no information kiosks around like they had in Bermos.
I was about to cry when a lady made her way over to me. She looked young, yet mature. Her dark hair, with a few silver strands running through it, was pulled back into a high bun. She wore what looked like a security-type uniform and a little makeup. Everything about her was neat. Whoever this angel was, she came at the right time. She told me her name was Natalie.
Natalie: Can I help you? I’ve seen you here now for a while.
Enya: I-I-I . . . ah . . . well, I thought my sister would be here by now, but I don’t have a cell phone to call her.
Natalie: Ah . . . come with me. This your first time in Sharon?
Enya: Um . . . yeah.
Natalie: Are you in the service?
Enya: No . . . my father was. He’s retired now.
Natalie: I see, you’re a soldier’s daughter.
Enya: Yes, my grandfather served too. He and dad gave me these medals to remind me who we are.
Natalie: Ha! My father did the same. I served too, but I only did one tour.
Enya: Thank you for your service. Many people don’t realize the sacrifice it takes.
Natalie: True . . .
Natalie took me over to the desk and dialed the home number for me. There was no answer, so I left a message. Then she dialed Velda’s work number. Natalie was very patient with me when I had to hold for almost fifteen minutes. When Velda came to the phone, I tried to explain what was happening at the airport, amidst her earsplitting returns. I chanced an embarrassing glance at Natalie, who without a doubt, could hear every word Velda said, as I held the phone receiver away from my ear.
A mix of fear, disappointment and frustration stole my voice. I swallowed hard as I hung up the phone. One lone tear escaped my eye, which I quickly swatted it away. The sad part was, Velda’s attitude shook me.
Velda: Whatever made you think I would take time off my job to come to the airport?
Enya: I just thought—
Velda: Thought what? That I would lose hours at work to come get you?
Enya: Well, no, I—
Velda: Ha! Don’t forget you chose to come here. You’re a grown woman. So, take a cab to the apartment. That’s what I would do.
Enya: Uh yeah . . . but I—
Velda: See yah.
Enya: But—Hello?
Velda: Warrmmppp . . .
Enya: Hello—
She hung up. That was Velda’s voice on the phone, but I did not know why she spoke like that. If it were not for the little pride I had left, I would have sat in the middle of that airport and cried like a baby. Here I was, with a total stranger, trying to help me, more than my own flesh and blood.
A gentle smile spread across Natalie’s pursed lips, as I handed her the phone receiver. She returned it to the cradle, but she didn’t look at me right away. It was as if she was thinking. The new tears floated in my eyes, but they didn’t fall. Even though she might have known my predicament, she did not mention it. Instead, she grabbed a map from the desk, close to the phone. She asked me where I was going, and I showed her my sister’s address in my small notebook. She found my gene