Know Weapon: A Stand Your Ground Mystery

By Kevin Morgan

This novel covers Faye Becker's quandary about whether or not to tell the truth of what she witnessed when an unarmed Black male is shot and killed by the town's local White troublemaker. Everyone thinks the shooter is guilty, but Faye (to her regret) knows differently. While the shooter has been guilty often in his past, he is not guilty in this particular incident. Will Faye tell the truth or will she lie to keep the peace in her community?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9780996370813

Kevin Morgan

Kevin Morgan is an author and entrepreneur who is also very active with many auxiliaries in his home church, including the singles ministry, where he served as its president for three years.  He holds an MBA from Indiana University, a BS from Fisk University and owns an art and framing business.  From his interactions with people and through his experiences, he has come to appreciate the unique challenges that African-American singles must deal with regularly.   Kevin resides in SC where he is currently working on his next book tentatively entitled, Songs of Singleness and plans on authoring more Christian related books.  This dynamic writer is available for speaking engagements and he welcomes your comments.  For more information, email him at: [e-mail].

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Prologue - All Is Well

Sixty-four year old Faye Becker was enjoying a rare good night’s sleep when her blissful reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sound of breaking glass from the front of her house. She rolled on her side closest to her night stand to peer through mostly closed eyes at her clock which read exactly midnight. She mumbled to herself, "Just my luck. When I finally get these old bones to stop hurting enough so I could get some rest, somebody decides to cause a ruckus. As she glanced at the clock, she took a few seconds to debate if that noise was just a part of her dreams. Her inner argument was settled when the sound of glass shattering assaulted her ears once again. Having come to the realization that the unwelcome din was not a figment of her imagination, she abruptly sat up in bed. Unfortunately for this widow of a local civil rights hero, the sound of windows in her home being smashed in the middle of the night was not a new thing. Still, with her husband being dead for four years and with most of her days spent nursing her sore arthritic knees; she was surprised to be going through this again. Back when her husband, Jeb, was alive and active as a local civil rights leader, she recalled tip-toeing behind him as he crept down the hall to investigate the mysterious noises she always seemed to hear before he did. Instinctively reaching her arm to the other side of the bed, she was reminded that her husband’s reserved spot was still empty. Swallowing the sob that always threatened to show up unannounced whenever she went through this ritual of reaching for her husband, Faye moaned, I feel so alone."

Immediately after those words left her mouth, she sensed something different. In the darkness of her room, she carefully looked around while she slowed her breathing. Looking and listening intently, Faye was getting ready to chide herself for letting her imagination get away from her. Just then, she noticed something that wasn’t only different, but also very strange. In her mind, the best word she could come up with to describe what she perceived was "presence". Before her mind could alert the rest of her body to be afraid of this mysterious visitor, she was drawn trancelike into an engulfing sense of calm. Based on the composed way she was feeling at that moment, the only rational explanation she could come up with for this weird occurrence was the presence in the room possibly was her husband’s spirit. She silently wondered if her playful husband’s spirit was playing another joke on her that only someone from the afterlife could appreciate. Fully realizing how crazy that explanation was, she also was open to the idea that she was being visited by an angel of God.

Not sure if she should speak first or wait for the presence to say something, Faye decided to take the initiative by asking her visitor, "Don’t you hear the clatter out there? What are you going to do about it?" Even as she repeated her question about the glass shattering in the front room, the presence kept reassuring her that she had bigger things to focus her attention on. He kept encouraging her that the prayer request she has been sending to the Heavenly Father the past four years were going to be granted. To her dismay, she noted the presence failed to mention that her prayer would be answered on His timeframe, not hers.

Not one to hold her tongue when she felt strongly about something, Faye persisted in expressing her anxieties about the commotion in the front part of her house. Just as she repeated her questions, the presence voiced its words of assurance. "All is well. Not content with the responses to her questions, Faye couldn’t hide her frustration. All is well? How can you say that when all hell is practically breaking loose in my house?"

In a calm tone, the presence spoke more to her soul than to her ears. "Faye, listen to me. There is a journey you must take and the way will not be easy. But always remember that whatever challenges you face, all is well. Growing increasingly nervous at the clash of more glass being shattered in her house, Faye decided to express herself more assertively. Don’t talk to me about some crazy journey! What about the noise on the other side of my door? If she wasn’t so worked up, she would have sworn she heard the presence chuckle before it spoke again. Trust me; what’s happening out there tonight is the least of your problems. Just know that you will never be alone because I will be with you all the way. Feeling like the presence did not truly understand what she was trying to say, she pointed to the door. Someone is out there now. All is not well!"

Staring at this mysterious visitor that was talking way too strangely for her, Faye waited to see how he would respond. After a few seconds of silence, the presence spoke up once more. "Don’t forget what I’ve told you. It will help you more than you realize. Moving toward the door, he paused and added, You can relax and go back to sleep. I’ll take care of what’s happening outside."

About six hours later, Faye woke up thinking she had the strangest dream. She looked around her room and nothing seemed out of place. Shrugging her shoulders, she slowly got out of the bed and put on her robe and opened her bedroom door. Not sure what she expected to see, she scanned the hallway and everything looked undisturbed. She proceeded down the hall pausing to take a quick peek at her favorite photo of her husband in his military uniform. She gasped as she approached her front door. On the floor, there were several neatly swept piles of broken glass. Being careful not to step on the glass piles, she lifted the curtains and noticed the windows had been replaced with new panes. To verify her thoughts that the window panes were newly installed, she pressed her finger into the soft fresh caulking. Shaking her head, she still couldn’t get herself to admit that the strange visitor from last night was not just a weird dream. However, when she made it to her kitchen, she saw something that removed all doubt that indeed, the presence she sensed last night was real. She picked up a handwritten note from her table that simply said, "All is well. To add to the mystery, she could tell the note was not in her husband’s handwriting. Smirking to herself, she said, Come to think of it, this note being written by my husband would really be unbelievable since he’s been dead for four years. Sitting down at her chair, she absentmindedly rubbed her sore knees. She wondered, What’s going on and what have I gotten myself into?"

In Faye’s Humble Opinion

"Let me tell you something. All that law has managed to do is make double victims out of Black women like me…..

First we have to deal with the shock of losing our Black fathers, husbands, sons and other loved ones at the hand of bloodthirsty Whites.

Then these same Black women are victimized a second time when our murdered Black fathers, husbands, sons and other loved ones are demonized so that ruthless White killers can be labeled as innocent and even celebrated as heroes." Faye Becker (speaking about the Stand Your Ground Law)

1

Faye on a Mission

Leaving the parking lot of the Rawleysville Memorial Hospital, Faye Becker was glad she took the time to visit a fellow church member who was recovering from hip replacement surgery. Even though she was taught that good ole Christians never thought too highly of themselves and their charitable actions, she mentally congratulated herself for checking to see how Sister Gilbert, a fellow soldier for the Lord, was getting along. She debated whether or not her good deed for the day was magnanimous enough to treat herself to an already prepared dinner from a local restaurant. Truth be told, she was leaning toward picking up a to-go plate as opposed to going through the drudgery of fixing a home meal. Now, as she was trying to figure out what type of food she was in the mood for, she noticed something strange to her left. Instinctively, she pressed her foot lightly on the brake to slow the car down as she turned her head to the left to get a better look at what caught her eye. She carefully guided her car to the side of the road into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. Even though getting in and out of the car was quite painful because of her arthritic knees, she knew she couldn’t just sit there without doing something about the curious scene unfolding before her.

Even though she was alone in her car, she spoke out loud. "Isn’t that one of those McElroy boys over there by the tree with that Chapman girl?" As was usually the case because of her advanced age, her brain and eyes took their time responding to her question. Slowly she came to the realization that her speculations about the identity of the two people partially hidden behind the tree were correct. With her bad eyesight, she was surprised that she was able to see enough of what was going on behind that tree to sense something was not right. Observing a young male interacting with a young female was not something out of the ordinary. However, the fact that the male was White and the female was Black made their interaction more peculiar. Even in these modern day and times, the factor of race had a way of transforming the mundane into the bizarre, particularly in a small, conservative, southern town like Rawleysville. On top of the issue of race, the actual identities of the two people she was watching added a layer of intrigue.

Unfortunately for Faye, she knew more about the White male, Thomas McElroy, than she cared to. He was in his mid-twenties and had a reputation for molesting and sexually assaulting Black females. Because he was from a family that unashamedly flaunted its strident anti-Blacks sentiments, it was apparent where he got his racial hostility from. According to the Rawleysville rumor mill, which Faye heavily relied on to get most of her information on the activities of fellow residents, Thomas looked up more to his grandfather than his father. Although he was too young to ever have stepped a foot inside the family restaurant, he learned of the segregated eatery owned and operated by his grandfather called McElroy’s Café. It was due to his strong admiration for his grandfather that he blamed Faye and her husband, Jeb Becker, for the decision to close the family restaurant instead of being forced to serve Blacks inside their establishment. The already chilly relationship between the Becker and McElroy families got progressively worse once Jeb Becker became the town’s leading civil rights advocate. Shortly after he returned from his second tour in the Vietnam War, he led desegregation efforts against McElroy’s Café. According to the persistent gossip mongers in town, Thomas was all too happy to carry the family torch of hatred against anybody associated with the Becker name.

Young Thomas was a high school athlete who earned letters in various sports. Since his freshman year, he was a regular on the all-county lists and many people believed he had a bright future as a big-time college athlete and later as a professional. His prospects for superstardom in athletics on the college and pro levels were dashed by his repeated brushes with the law. Because she wasn’t much of a local sports fan since her husband’s death four years ago, Faye was not impressed with Thomas’ athletic exploits even though he received extensive coverage by the local media. Under normal circumstances, she as an elderly African-American woman would not know much more about the Caucasian former high school star other than his name. Unfortunately for people like Faye, these were not normal times. Her days of normalcy were abruptly snatched from her when her husband was murdered. Gone were the days when she could look forward to welcoming her husband home after a hard day at work. As she slowly but steadily made her way towards the tree that partially hid Thomas from view, Faye painfully knew that her life was nowhere near normal with having to raise her kids alone because her husband was tragically taken from her. Her new normal was an imposter that tried to deceive her into thinking that nothing significant in her life had changed.

Because she could see beyond the facade of her supposedly new way of seeing life, she knew more about Thomas than his name. Her awareness of him was not only due to the fact his surname branded him as a privileged descendant from one of the founders of Rawleysville. Regrettably, she also associated the young White troublemaker with the one person she unashamedly detested. At least in this instance, she hated the truth behind the phrase, "Like father, like son" because whenever she thought of the twenty something year old male she was heading towards, she thought of his father. In addition to his reputed callous mistreatment of Black girls, Thomas also was guilty of being the next to youngest son of Jake McElroy, Jr. For the still grieving widow after four years, the McElroy name held significance to her because Jake was suspected but never convicted of murdering her husband, Jeb Becker. Not even trying to forgive or forget what the McElroy father did to her husband, Faye was all too eager to spread some of her hatred to the son who was now within a few painful steps. Her first impulse upon seeing someone from the McElroy clan so near was to use her cane to put a big time whipping on the White boy who would have to take the punishment in his father’s stead. If she weren’t a slightly overweight woman in her sixties with aching knees and bad eyesight, she would have saved God the trouble of having to dole out His brand of justice by gladly dishing out her version of revenge.

Feeling the nerves that she called her "anger veins" furiously pulsating on the sides of her head near her hairline, she decided to focus her attention on Sheryl Chapman. Familiar with the Chapman family because they attended 12th Street Baptist, Faye mentally stepped into the role of the Black girl’s mother and resolved to do for her what she would do for her own daughter. If she learned nothing else growing up in the predominantly Black side of town, she knew that it was vital for Black mothers to step in for each other for the survival of all of their children. At the risk of crossing paths with one of the sons of a family that has been hostile to her husband since the mid-sixties, she was going to do whatever was necessary to make sure the young Chapman girl was not in danger.

Like the devil and angel in the cartoons that were arguing over whose suggestions were more effective, she was trying to decide which voice she would use to address the Black girl she just temporarily adopted. She was either going to come off as Sheryl’s mad mommy or her soothing protective guardian. Not sure when she made her decision about the best way to speak to the young fellow church member, she heard the angry tone of the words as they came out of her mouth. "Sheryl, get away from that boy! He ain’t nothing but trouble!" When she noticed that the girl’s only response to her command was a wide-eyed look of fright, Faye immediately regretted choosing the harsh mommy tone.

She quickly concluded that this encounter between Sheryl and Thomas was not one between equally willing participants. This one-sided rendezvous had nothing to do with the mutual raging of hormones that often resulted in lustful youths getting romantically involved in some of the most inappropriate places. Motivated by an increasing sense of urgency to rescue Sheryl, Faye quickened her pace as much as her painful knees would allow. Heroically, she was willing to accept a little more arthritic pain if it meant she could prevent any further physical or emotional injury to the girl who probably didn’t understand the depth of the dangers she was facing. She tightened her grip on her cane as she tried to ignore her knees that were imploring her to stop this torturous trek. In her mind, she wondered if she would need to use her faithful cane as a weapon to save her