Transitions by Mike Hormek - HTML preview
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Chapter 4
So, the saga begins. Steven loaned her more than thirty thousand dollars to clean up property taxes, pay off debts, and establish an office for property management. He offered to help with website development. She told him that Marvin and her neighbors had stolen several articles of value. Her interest in retail waned, so Steven entered the storage facilities to assess the inventory, and he agreed to help her liquidate much of it. She continued to binge drink, and Steven expressed concern because of her significant personality changes during her drinking episodes. She hinted that he may be stealing items from her. He resented the implication and told her he could not work with her during her drinking episodes.
She replied: "I have been an alcoholic for twenty-six years. I will not quit now, and if you do not like it, you can hit the road."
Steven took this with a grain of salt because he had to protect his investment, so he began to hint about his payback. He now must come up with an exit strategy. She informed him that she had discussed the trust situation with her family, and they told her not to do it. That was the primary reason he agreed to help her. Now, he feels betrayed, and he thinks she is using him. He began to feel panicky about his money, but he still had all the properties in his name. She continued to accuse him of stealing during her drinking binges.
"Everyone she knows steals from her." he thinks.
One day, she invited him into her apartment and explained that Edmund was still gaslighting her into questioning her sanity. She still visited him even after he threatened to sue her. One day, when in his house, she saw her car parked outside on a small split-screen television. He had some way of tracking her.
"Edmund entered my apartment her and got into my closet and removed one shoe from a pair, then he found an expensive coat and removed a button that I could not replace. He then opened a drawer and dumped the contents. Edmund broke off a leg of a piece of furniture so it would fall off when moved. He took one silverware from a full service and one silver goblet from a set of six, found a pair of sunglasses, and broke off one ear. He also left a yellow ribbon, so I knew he was there. She shows Steven the removed button, a box of sunglasses with one ear off, and the broken furniture leg.
Also, she showed Stephen the yellow ribbons. He also puts lipstick on the rearview mirror, keys the door, and loosens the wheel lugs and headlamps."
"How is he getting in?" Stephen asked."
"He is a locksmith and picks it."
Steven told her to put up cameras and a padlock on all doors. She does. She tells Steven that she does not think Edmund will bother her much now that the DA may drop his case for lack of evidence. The rape kit is nowhere to be found. She continues to hint that Steven is stealing from her. He tells her to call the law, give them an inventory of the items, and he will take a lie detector test. She does not respond.
The family calls Steven and says they will pay him all that Constance owes. He asked them where they were when she needed help. No response. They come out of the woodwork when they find out she has signed everything for Steven. He thinks that was a move on her part to force intervention, and he is a pawn in the entire scheme. The last time Steven saw her was when he helped her move out of her apartment. When they moved the refrigerator, what was on the floor behind it? You guessed it. It was the naked picture. Did she ever apologize to the neighbor?
When he was leaving, the neighbor Jack, who she accused of stealing the picture, called him aside and said he had recently seen her before she moved to do something odd. She broke an ear off a pair of sunglasses and threw it into her car trunk. In the trunk was a box of sunglasses with one ear broken off.
"Was there anything else in the trunk?" Stephen asked.
"Come to think of it, there was a roll of yellow ribbon."
"Wow," Stephen exclaimed.
"Then she took out a lug wrench, loosened the front right wheel lugs, and drove off. Jasmine was left home."
"What do you think that means?"
"It explains a lot. I will tell you another time, but I must go now."
A short time after Stephen met her neighbors, he answered a knock on his door.
"We are investigating the death of Edmund Lewis. Did you know him?"
"Not well. I was at Edmund's house a couple of times with a friend. I did not know he had died.
How did he die.?"
"We think it was a homicide. Were you on April 16 of this year?"
"I'm not sure. I will check my calendar."
"Do you know a woman named Constance?"
"Yes, she was his friend. I took her there on occasion."
"We would like you to file a statement to our office. If you have an alibi for April 16, you will need to provide it."
"OK, what's the address? I will meet you there."
Stephen checked his calendar, and it turned out that he was with his daughter that day. He proceeded to the station and filed his report. The officer informed Stephen to be available if needed again. Stephen often wondered if Constance had anything to do with Edmund's death.
“Laissez les bon temps rouler.”
The End
THE GOATS ATE MY CLOTHES
Two personalities can emerge as a Jekyll and Hyde transition due to self-inflicted circumstances, and others can be considered fate. So was the case of Clifford and Joe. Both were born and raised in the north, Clifford in Illinois and Joe in North Dakota.
Clifford was considered an incorrigible child, the oldest of three siblings. His father is a black mechanic, and his mother is a social worker. He was more than a Denis the Menace. His parents blamed his behavior on his grandfather on his father's side, who was an alcoholic and a wife beater frequently spending jail time. They did not consider the fact that Clifford was severely premature and almost succumbed during his time in an incubator. His lungs were not developing correctly, and he appeared frequently to be in pain. He constantly cried and screamed, and his parents could not discipline him. Whether pain was the cause or not, Clifford was out of control. When he was four years old, his parents divorced. His father could not deal with the situation any longer. At age five, his mother Alicia re-married James, an electric motor repairman. The new husband agreed to accept Clifford as his own, although they did not have the means to obtain professional help for him. Their marriage was stressful, and they frequently argued about the right thing to do. One afternoon, it came to a head after a bad day with Clifford when he was approaching six years old.
“I can't deal with his behavior anymore." his mother Alicia said.
“What do you want me to do?” his step-father James added. "Whipping does no good, and I think it makes it worse. I think the reason he poops his pants is because he resents you taking him from his dad. He needs help."
“I will take him to the doctor next week.”
The doctor's diagnosis was hyperactivity due to ADHD. The doctor prescribed a drug, which calmed his demeanor, but the resentment continued. He refused to use the toilet.
“I will try a few things," John said.
Enrolling Clifford in the school system proved a challenge because of his behavior. He was disruptive in class, even on his medication. Frequently, the teachers would call, and James or Alicia would have to go to the school to discuss the situation. They recommended a school for special needs children. It was not affordable, so the parents decided to try homeschooling, and his mother would have to work shorter hours. He continued to mess up his pants when attempts by the parents failed to discipline him to discipline him.
“I will make him wash his underwear in the toilet every time he messes in them," James said. If he refuses, I will stand him in a corner until he is ready to get out".
Days passed, and then weeks and months. Clifford's demeanor gradually changed. He reduced the frequency of messing his pants as he washed them in the toilet when the situation arose. James had managed to get him in the corner when he acted up, so eventually, when Clifford felt he was doing wrong, he would automatically enter the corner without being told. The parents even put him back in school. His behavior improved, but his lack of concentration adversely affected his grades, and he still talked back to the teachers. Shortly after entering the second grade, his mother got a call.
“This is Ms. James from the second grade at Warrington Elementary School.”
“Yes, how are you?” Alicia said.
“I am fine, but I am calling about your son Clifford."
“What is wrong?”
“He ran out of class, and we had to send some older boys after him."
“Where is he now?”
“We have him in the principal's office. He is unruly."
“I will be right over.”
Upon arrival at the school, Alicia entered the principal's office. The teacher, Ms. James, was also there.
“Hello, my name is John Atwell, principal.”
“How are you?” Alicia said.
“I am fine. Clifford ran away today, and his grades are not good."
“But I thought his behavior was improving.”
“We have seen some improvement in that area as long as he takes his medications. The school nurse sees to that.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“The school term is finishing, and we are implementing a new program for special needs children." It would be best if you considered enrolling Clifford in that program. There will be a cost because we need to hire specially qualified teachers.
“How much of a cost?”
“We will let you know.”
When Alicia got home, she discussed the issue with John.
"They are implementing a special needs program the next term, and the principal says we should enroll Clifford, but there is a cost involved."
"How much?" John asked.
“He is to call.”
Before the end of the term, Alicia and John worked out a payment plan with the school, and they enrolled Clifford. He managed to proceed in elementary school with an attitude and was in trouble most of the time without even trying. At age ten, he became increasingly violent against his teachers and parents. The doctors increased his medication, but it was difficult for the adults to ensure his compliance. There was even an instance when he was thirteen years old when he became violent at home when denied something, and the parents called the police. The police found Clifford hiding in a closet, and they called Social Services, who said they were monitoring the case and Clifford could end up in a home for incorrigible children. Clifford stayed out of trouble for a while and squeaked by with school grades. As his teenage years progressed, his behavior deteriorated considerably. He teamed up with others who were constantly in trouble and into gang wars, even though the environment was not big-city like the conducted fights with BB rifles. And several kids were injured. This companionship evolved into an even more severe behavior issue. At about age sixteen, he and two others befriended another individual who owned a car. Clifford asked to borrow the car under the ruse. His mother needed medication, and she had no transportation. They filled up a 55-gallon drum with gas and stole the vehicle. They got caught and were in front of a judge. Clifford’s parents were present.
“I have reviewed your record, and I see you have been in trouble one way or another most of your life," the Judge said. "You seem to have a habit of stealing: shoplifting, stealing hubcaps, stealing a boat motor, etc. What have you got to say for yourself?"
“I don't have much to say," Clifford said.
“I feel sorry for your parents putting up with you all these years.”
“Let’s hear from your parents.”
They both were distraught. Alicia was in tears.
"We love our son and have done everything we know to protect him, but we are out of answers, and it's taking a toll on us. We don't know what else to do."
"I am going to help you. I am sentencing you, Clifford, to a reform school for boys until you are 18 years old. Then I suggest you enter a branch of the military."
Alicia began crying. John held down his head.
Clifford, while in reform school, did not have a behavior transition. He was in fights and resented authority. On several occasions, the reform school severely disciplined him. When they stole the car, the officers detained the other two individuals with Clifford in different facilities. Upon release, the three re-united and carried on a successful crime spree until an injury occurred during a robbery.
Clifford discharged the weapon, a 25-year federal prison term. While in prison, he learned a trade making furniture. Clifford was 43 years old when he got out of prison. He managed to get odd jobs before landing work in a furniture factory. He could never own a weapon.
From an anonymous lead, officers raided his house and seized two computers, finding child pornography on his laptop. He negotiated a plea deal, spent two years in prison, and was on a sex offender list.
He received a small inheritance and purchased a tiny house on an acre in Florida.
Then there was Joe, the youngest of a catholic family of seven.
Joe’s father, John, was a farmer who immigrated from Canada, and his mother, Mary, was a housewife.
The family size and the hired men on the farm required her to spend long hours preparing meals. She stocked the kitchen with cakes, pies, and cookies. The smell of pastries could be detected when one came up the driveway. She would awaken at sunrise with her husband and immediately start preparing breakfast, washing the dishes, and preparing lunch. She baked desserts in the afternoon and then fixed dinner. Fourteen to sixteen-hour days were not unusual. The heritage was of Ukrainian descendants, so the smell of traditional cooking, much like sauerkraut, was predominant. During harvest, she would deliver lunch to the workers in the field as they ate as they went.
Joe and an older brother, Larry, were not the mother's favorite, probably because they came along when she felt she was through having kids. They did not believe in birth control as their catholic religion prohibited it. Joe and the other siblings all attended parochial school. Joe was very dedicated to his religious beliefs, and in fact, he was an altar boy during elementary school. He was an avid hunter and frequently killed game on the family property for food. Heaven knows they needed it. Joe even took a hunter safety course at a young age. As a cub scout, he achieved the level of Arrow of Light. His personality made it easy for him to network within the "buddy system."
“Are you ready to ‘cross over’ to Scout BSA?” John asked.
"I don't know, as it is very time consuming, and I do not have enough study time in school."
“If you decide to do it, I will reduce your load at home for chores."
“Thanks, Dad."
After giving serious thought, he decided to follow the lead of his older brother Larry and join the BSA. He was allowed to participate at ten and received the Arrow of Light award. Joe took little time to earn eleven merit badges, including The Tenderfoot Badge, Second Class Badge, First Class Badge, Star Scout Badge, and Life Badge. He was an avid swimmer, even though not many youngsters swam in North Dakota. It paid off when during an alter boy trip to Canada. During an outing on a lake, a boy fell overboard, and Joe immediately dove into the boy's rescue. He received a special commendation from BSA for his bravery.
After high school, Joe attended college, majoring in mechanical engineering, and married his sweetheart, Nancy. His family included two boys and two girls. The girls went on to medical professions. The boys both ranched in Montana. After college, he worked for Ford Motor Company in Detroit and retired at 55.
He was always an avid hunter and owned many guns. Joe was active in the National Rifle Association (NRA). He worked as a guide in Yellowstone National Park for three summers before
taking a teaching job at a community college. When Joe was sixty-five, he and Nancy retired to Florida. They bought a parcel of ground and built a house. A neighbor, Clifford, had recently relocated from Illinois and already had one built.
“Did you notice the goats running loose in the yard?” Nancy asked.
“I did, but it looks like he has a fenced-in pen. We must keep our dogs on leashes outside until we can build a fence. This area is unzoned, so he is allowed pets under the association's bylaws. But goats?"
Joe invited Clifford to join their housewarming shortly after building the house. They had never met, nor did they check or were notified of his name on the sex offender registry, nor did they know he was black.
“I wonder how those two will get along?” Nancy thought. “Joe was always a hothead with a short temper and frequently got in fights when he was younger. How is Clifford’s temperament?”
It turns out that Clifford, although living his life out in a sequence of criminal activity, had always maintained a cool head with very few emotional outbursts. He is very personable and often smiles, almost at a psychopathic level.
Clifford knocked on their door.
“Hello, my name is Joe; my wife, Nancy."
“I am Clifford”
Joe and Nancy were taken aback but showed no signs outwardly.
“Come in, Clifford."
Joe introduced Clifford to other guests. Joe was polite and made small talk.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Do you have beer?”
Nancy went to the kitchen to get a beer.
“Where you from, Clifford?" Joe asked.
“I was born in Illinois.”
“What was your career?”
“I was in the furniture business.”
“Do you have children?”
“I have never been married.”
“Oh.”
Nancy returned with the beer.
"How long have you lived here?" Nancy asked.
“About a year.”
Clifford finished his beer.
"Thanks for the beer. I have to go now."
"OK, I am sure we will be good neighbors," Joe said.
They exchanged pleasantries and phone numbers, and Clifford left. The other guests drifted out until they were all gone.
“Wow," Nancy said with a scowl.
“What is it?”
“I did not know he was Black."
“What’s that got to do with anything? I did not know you were racist.
“I don't know, but there is something about him I do not like. Did you see how he stared at your gun case?"
“I think you are imagining things.”
“Something is not right with this guy. I want you to run a background check on him," Nancy said.
“OK, I will call our lawyer tomorrow and order it."
Joe ordered the background check the next day. The following day, their lawyer called with the results.
"Joe, be careful. This guy has a rap sheet that is a mile long. He has a prison record and is on a sex offender list..”
Joe informed Nancy of the results.
“I knew it. I knew it,” she said.
Upon completion of the house and landscaping, they hired a fencing contractor and purchased a wood fence for the yard's perimeter. Joe's survey shows a 75-by-75-foot lot size. Clifford was not home when the fence contractor began work. When Clifford returned home, the contractor finished half the fence.
“Wait, stop." he yelled, "You are encroaching on my property."
The workers stopped work.
"We will call our boss, and you can talk to him."
“That Oleander bush is on my property line, and you are two feet over my side. I want it torn down right now."
“We can’t do that.”
Joe was not home at the time, but Nancy heard the commotion.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the worker.
“Your neighbor says we are infringing, and he is using profanity and wants the fence torn down.
We put the fence right on the property line.”
“Mr. Boltz, I will call my husband, but I would appreciate it if you would calm down. We will sort this out."
Meanwhile, the fence workers contacted their boss and stopped work. When Joe arrived home, he called Clifford.
“Hello, this is Joe. What's the problem with the fence?"
“I have my survey. You are two feet over on my property. When I got my survey, I planted the Oleander bush, and it is on the property line."
“OK, it's late now. Let's get a measurement tomorrow."
The next day, Joe and Clifford located the survey pin on the lot on the other side of Joe's. No other pins were visible. They measured the lot from the pin, and guess what? The property line where the contractor put up the fence was right on.
“How old is your survey?” Joe asked.
“It was the original plot plan from the initial subdivision," Clifford said.
“I will check with the courthouse on Monday and let you know.”
Clifford was not happy, and he did not comment.
Joe went through the original plot plan and found that the original surveyors used a manual lot and block system, sometimes called a recorded plat survey system. The next day, Joe called Clifford.
“The original survey was manual, and the current survey was a satellite GPS. So we are staying with the fence on the line. Our position is that the new survey is more accurate. So you lost two feet on my side but gained two on the other."
Clifford was upset. He said nothing and hung up the phone. "What will happen if I cause a scene? The man has guns, and I do not," he thought. "I will have to let it go."
Joe called the fence contractor and told him to proceed.
"If the neighbor gives you any trouble, call the law."
While the contractors were building the fence, Clifford checked on real estate lawyers in the area. He located one and made an appointment. After discussing the issue, the lawyer suggested that Clifford take the matter to court and sue for the property line to remain under a law called "adverse possession." Still, there was a thirteen-year period where he would live on the property and pay taxes.
He could not meet that requirement. So what he lost on one side, he gained on the other.
The fence is up, but they rarely speak because of the strained relationship.
Joe and Nancy were big churchgoers, tithing heavily and boasting when the opportunity arose.
They even had a pew named in their honor. They were among the first and most prominent contributors to a new parochial college built in the area.
In contrast, Clifford had not attended a church since he would reluctantly go with his parents, and exposure to the teachings of Jesus during his prison religious services had some impact. Religion stimulated his senses, and he would sometimes feel guilty about his criminal actions.
Clifford, in the past, was a heavy drinker, and it influenced some decisions that he maybe would not have made sober.
He frequently drank and played pool at a local neighborhood bar. His color did not matter as other black workers frequented the bar. On a Friday afternoon, he was practicing on a pool table soon after the fence incident. A gruff voice from his back said. "Excuse me, would you like a game?"
Clifford turned and saw, at first glance, a man who seemed to be six foot five or more, towering over Clifford's five foot eight frame. He had a graying long beard and long hair, somewhat cropped under a sweat-stained cowboy hat. He wore a cowboy shirt, blue jeans, a cowboy belt, and an oversized buckle.
His cowboy boots show signs of longtime wear.
“I am not very good at pool, but what is your game of choice?" Clifford asked.
“How about eight balls?"
“Any special rules?”
“Just call the pocket on eight ball; if you scratch, you lose."
“OK, let's do it."
“My name is Craig, and yours?" the stranger said.
“Clifford.”
“I live a few miles from here on a dirt road off Hwy 93," Craig said.
Clifford did not respond as he was not in the mood for small talk. They flipped a coin for a break, and Clifford won. He broke. The game went fast as Craig was a good shot; however, he lost by default, scratching on the eight ball. Three more consecutive games ended in a draw with two games each.
“Can I buy you a beer?” Craig asked.
“I’ll take a Bud”
Craig went to the bar and brought back a beer and a non-alcoholic drink.
"That's odd. Why is there no beer for Craig?" Clifford thought.
"I generally don't come here this early as I have some horses to tend to in the early evening. I also do some rodeo events from time to time."
“Do you ride or rope?”
"I rope, but I rode bulls for a short time in my younger years."
“What happened?”
“I was drinking one night and got into my truck to drive home. I had a lot to drink that night. I crossed over the center line, and I clipped a car headed my way. The car left the road and hit a tree. The driver died. I did not have my seat belt. My truck overturned, and I ejected, severely injured to the
point where I could not ride bulls again. It took a long time before I could even ride a horse. I had to cut my rehab short because I spent time for manslaughter."
“Do you have a family?” Clifford asked.
“I have a daughter somewhere in South Florida that I have not seen in years.”
“How about you?” Craig asked.
“Never been married. Don’t know of any children.”
"Well, I have to go now. We should get together again. We old farts don't have many friends around here. Most around here are married and don't get out much."
Clifford motioned with his empty hand, and they parted ways.
It was more than two weeks before those two would cross paths again. On a Wednesday evening, they were filling their trucks with gas.
Craig had two others in the crew cab with him.
"Hello, Clifford, how have you been?"
“OK.”
“I have teamed up with like-minded friends, and we meet every Wednesday evening. We all come from similar backgrounds. We have all had issues and discuss our lives and any issues. Would you like to join us?"
Clifford thought for a minute. “Maybe some other time. I am not feeling great tonight,” he said sheepishly.
“OK. Here is my card. Feel free to call me if only you would like to chat.”
The card read. "CRAIG ALREADY MINISTRY FOR TROUBLED SOULS”
"Wow," Clifford thought. "I would never have guessed he was ministering."
Clifford could not stop thinking about what Craig was doing. He thought, "What if this is what he needed?"
The transformation began in a couple of days. A bad storm formed in the area, spurring tornado warnings. It was the middle of the night when a rumble, the sound of a freight train, suddenly awoke him. He sat up, startled. He could hear the sound of trees snapping. At the foot of his bed was an apparition. A female with indistinguishable features motioned Clifford to come forward and follow her.
Was this the angel of death, he wondered? As he stared, the thunderous noise that woke him up gradually declined, as did the apparition, until both were no longer legible.
The incident frightened him. When he turned on the news the following day, an EF4 tornado had hit the area earlier. When he went outside, he saw several pine trees in Joe’s yard but none on his.
Some trees were on Joe’s roof. Behind him was a grove of pine trees, and it looked like someone used a chainsaw to make a swath.
Maybe a tree was supposed to hit my house and kill me. Was the ghost, the angel of death, wanting me? He thought. He began to sweat -scared. He visibly shook when he called Craig.
“Hello. I want to meet with you guys. Are you still meeting on Wednesdays?" he said with a quivering voice.
“Yes, hello, Clifford. Are you OK?"
“I’m OK. Just some things happening that I do not understand.”
"OK then, see you Wednesday. Take care."
During the tornado, broken pine trees hit Joe and Nancy's roof and caused significant damage, although Clifford's house remained untouched. Both houses had approximately the same number of trees.
“Did you notice no trees down around Clifford's house?" he told Nancy.
“Yes, isn't that strange? It's almost like something was protecting it."
“I don't get it," Joe said.
Clifford spent the next few days at the bar. He could not remove the sight of the ghost from his mind.
Clifford sobered up Wednesday for the meeting. Craig's address was at the end of a dirt road.
The yard was unkempt, with chickens feeding and the sound of hogs purring, grunting, and growling nearby. Craig's truck and four other vehicles were in the yard. Clifford knocked, and Craig answered the door.
“Come in, Clifford. How are you?"
"OK, I guess."
Four men and one woman were present. Clifford scoped them all out. The men were all up in age and dressed like bikers. The woman looked in her fifties, her hair tied up in a bun. Her skin was leathery. She had spent much time in the sun, maybe as a biker. Craig introduced everyone, and they exchanged greetings.
“Clifford, Let me explain what we are doing," Craig said.
“We minister to those who have had issues and are willing to transition onto a different path.
The choices we make and the tokens we take(or reject) determine the course of our lives, our paths, and the crossroads we take. We can walk on the sidewalks of fame or lie in the gutters of shame. Our ministry helps those who wander off the path and are willing to learn about the teachings of Jesus and become disciples of the Word. Here at our gatherings, we learn to build relationships with others by being open and honest about our feelings."
“How many in your group?” Clifford asked.
“We are a small but growing ministry. Many of us are out talking with those in need, such as people experiencing homelessness. We rotate our members so we can share our activities for the week.
Sometimes, we have success and point those needing spiritual guidance in the right direction, and sometimes, we do not. Last week, we missed it by only a matter of hours. One of our members, Greg, a boy of 26, overdosed. He was due for a Wednesday meeting and was already gone when we went to his trailer. At any rate, it is customary for those attending for the first time to relate something about themselves."
Each member related a brief history of where they were today. Most had served time and were trying to blend back into society. Others were recovering alcoholics.
“We must lean on each other to build community.” the woman said.
Craig said an exit prayer, and the meeting adjourned.
“I did not find it as offensive as I figured.” Clifford thought. “Maybe I can fit in.”
Clifford decided to attend the following week. There were again four new faces besides Craig, but no new members, as the meeting was somewhat different from the previous week.
“How many of you have brought your bible challenge?” Craig asked.
“What’s a bible challenge?”Clifford asked.
“Once per month, we have a total group meeting. Each person brings up a topic that challenges the righteousness of our character. We call it the Bible challenge. The group votes and agrees on one topic. Each member then researches the scriptures and reads their findings out loud. Often, the same scripture is read by more than one. The last chosen topic was greed.”
“Who has a scripture passage?”
A man raised his hand. He was a biker. He wore black boots, leather pants, and a vest. He tied his hair back in a ponytail and wore a scarf around his forehead. Craig recognized him as James.
He opened his Bible and read:
1.1 Timothy 6.6-10
"But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot
take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, we will be content. But those who
desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that
plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. It is
through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with
many pangs."
“OK. Who wants to comment?”
Clifford raised his hand.
Before he could speak, Craig asked. "Do you have a bible?"
"No, I do not."
Craig left the room and shortly returned with one. “It’s yours.”
“Thanks.”
"OK, Clifford."
“What I think that means is that if we are not content with what we have and get greedy, it can lead us on a path of graceful degradation—a transition of spiritual bankruptcy."
“Thanks; that's right on point. In my opinion, the desire to be wealthy should not supersede our love of God and interfere with our Christianity."
The lady present, Clifford remembered as June raised her hand to ask a question.
"Yes, June, you have a question?" Craig asked.
“My question is this. If we fall for the love of money and make a lot, do we still have to tithe?"And if we do, are we forgiven for loving money?"
“Good question. Let’s continue this discussion in our next full meeting.”
Clifford's would put that question on hold.
.
Remember, Joe and Nancy had two dogs they let out for periods to do business.
Shortly after the fence went up, Clifford fenced the rest of the yard and let the goats run free. It was a late evening one night when Joe let his dogs run in the yard for not more than one hour.
It was early Friday morning when Nancy came out to take her clothes off the line. She frequently liked to put clothes out to dry for freshness.
“Joe. Joe. She screamed.”
“What is it?”
"My clothes are on the ground and have holes in them. How did that happen?"
Joe walked around the fence line and noticed a large hole under the fence.
“It looks like Clifford’s goats climbed under the fence and pulled the clothes off the line.”
“Then where are they?”
“I guess they climbed back under.”
“It looks like my dogs may have dug the holes.” Joe thought. He did not say anything to Nancy, who was crying and visibly upset.
“It was one of my expensive blouses,” she whined.
“I will take care of it.”
Joe called Clifford.
"Hello," Clifford answered.
“This is Joe. I need to see you over the fence right away.”
Clifford went outside and immediately saw the hole under the fence.
“What’s up?” he said.
By now, Joe was, by nature, angry. "Your damn goats ruined my wife's clothes!" he yelled at the top of his voice. His hand held the blouse, and he shook it at Clifford, his voice trembling. “You will pay for this.”
Clifford responded.”It looks like your dogs dug the hole under the fence.”
"It doesn't matter. That's what dogs do. You should keep your damn goats pinned up," his voice raised to a crescendo.
Clifford sensed this could get ugly and calmly walked toward the house.
"You coward, I'm not done yet," Joe yelled.
Clifford had to think this through."This could get ugly," he thought. "I can't own guns, yet he has several in his cabinet."
Clifford then remembered reading about a new law in Florida called “The Red Flag Law.” The law allows certain people to petition a court to have firearms taken from someone they consider a threat to themselves or others.
Joe certainly felt threatened. He called the sheriff's department. "Hello, my name is Clifford Boltz. My neighbor across the fence is hollering across the fence; he is waving his arms in a threatening manner and cursing me, and he has weapons. I am afraid for my safety, and I won't want him investigated under Florida’s Red Flag Law.”
The dispatcher took all the information and informed Clifford they would send a unit out.
In the meantime, he eased out to see if Joe was still in the yard. He did not see him, so he went to the shed, got his shovel, and filled the hole under the fence. The county deputies arrived, took Clifford's statement, and went next door. Joe greeted them, still visibly upset.
"Your neighbor Clifford Boltz has complained that you verbally assaulted him over the fence in your backyard."
"How could he accuse me of anything when his goats climbed under my fence and destroyed the clothing on my line?" His face was very red, and his voice quivering.
“Can we have a look?”
Joe showed the officers the clothesline and the damaged clothes.
“How did the goats get in?” one officer asked.
“They climbed under the fence," Joe yelled loudly.
“Do you own dogs?”
“Yes.”
“Did they dig the holes?”
“I don’t know,” he gruffly answered.
"OK. You have to calm down, sir. Do you own a gun?”
"I have three rifles, but what's that got to do with anything?"
The officer did not respond. They gathered further information and proceeded to leave.
"What will you do about my clothes and his goats?"
"We will get back to you. But you must ensure your dogs do not dig any more holes under the fence.”
After they informed Joe to watch the dogs, the officers went next door to Clifford's house again.
"Mr. Smythe says your goats climbed under the fence and damaged clothes on the line," one officer said. "I don't know if they did or not."
“Do you own guns, Mr.Boltz?"
"No, I am a convicted felon."
The officers recorded the statement and left.
"I don't like the looks of this. One is a convicted felon, and the other is out of control.
Bloodshed may occur. We must invoke the Red Flag Law on Mr. Boltz's behalf."
They ran a check on both parties for outstanding warrants. Both were clean. Then, they immediately contacted a judge, swore to the allegation that they interviewed the parties involved, and petitioned the court to confiscate any weapons Joe may have under the Red Flag Law. They indicated that they felt Clifford was telling the truth and felt threatened even though his goats may have been at
fault. Joe was still visibly upset and could be considered a threat to Clifford. The incident regarding the goats was a civil matter to be taken up by the courts later if Joe was to sue for compensation. The Judge issued a temporary risk protection order, and the officers returned to Joe and Nancy's home and presented a copy of the order.
“Mr. Smythe, do you have any weapons?''
“Yes, three. I am a hunter."
“Mr. Smythe, we need you to surrender all weapons in your household. Do you have any in your vehicle or storage?"
“No," Joe answered.
“Is anyone that you know keeping any weapons from you?"
“No.”
"You are not allowed to possess weapons until the Judge's hearing in about two weeks. You will hear from the court."
“What right do you have to take our guns?” Nancy asked.
“Judge’s order mam under Florida’s Red Flag Law.”
“Never heard of it.”
“What about the guy next door? Did you take his guns?”
“We have an order to do so.”
The officers knew Clifford could not possess guns.
Joe was using profanity and was visibly angry as he gave up his guns. The officers briefly searched the closets, left the paperwork, took the guns, and left. As a precaution, the officers returned to Joe’s house with a search warrant, looking for weapons, although they found none.
Joe immediately contacted a friend and got the name of a local lawyer.
Clifford called his lawyer as well.
Joe watched his dogs when outside so they would not dig any more holes.
The court set the ten-day hearing with the same Judge who issued the RPO.
Joe, Nancy, their lawyer, and Clifford and his lawyer were present. They introduced themselves to the court and who they were representing.
The Judge spoke first."This hearing aims to determine if the weapons should be returned or kept for another year."
Clifford testified first.
"Your honor, Mr. Blythe called me outside and accused me of allowing my goats to enter his premises and destroying his clothes. During that time, he was visibly upset, hollering at a level the neighborhood could hear and shaking his fist threateningly. I was concerned for my well-being as I knew he had guns."
Joe stood up. "That's a damn lie. I did not threaten him.”
The Judge tapped his gavel.
"Sit down, Mr. Boltz. You will have a turn to speak, and if you have another outburst, I will find you in contempt."
He looked at Clifford’s lawyer.”Keep your client under control.”
Clifford’s lawyer whispered in his ear. “You did not help yourself.”
It came time for Clifford to state his case.
"Your honor, it is not true that I threatened Mr. Boltz. My wife was there, ask her. In addition, I have never threatened anyone. I am a hunter, and that's why I have guns.”
Joe’s lawyer spoke up. "Objection, your honor, may I approach the bench?"
“Both attorney’s approach.”
Joe’s attorney spoke. "I would like to enter this document in evidence. It is a background check conducted on Mr. Blythe. It seems he was arrested on a domestic assault and battery charge in the past, pled guilty, and Mr. Blyth received a suspended sentence, confirming his violent behavior."
“Your honor, I was not privileged to this document," Joe’s lawyer said.
“You know this is just a hearing, but I will consider the document," the judge said.
Joe’s lawyer had no response.
Next, it was the officer's turn to testify.
"When we interviewed Mr. Smythe, we found him very upset, out of sorts, and threatening.
When we confiscated the weapons, he again was upset and used profanity toward us.”
Joe leaned over to his lawyer in a voice legible in the court."That’s a damn lie.”
His lawyer addressed the court."Your honor. I apologize for my client's behavior."
The judge rapped his gavel. "I have heard enough. I will give my decision when I return."
He left the courtroom.
It seemed forever when they waited in the hallway. Both parties sat facing each other on benches with no privacy to talk. The lawyers seemed disinterested and were playing with their cell phones. Finally, the court summoned them back in.
“I have made my decision regarding the removal of the weapons from Mr. Smythe's home.
According to Florida's Red Flag Law, I can confiscate the weapons for another year. Based on the testimony and Mr. Smythe's outbursts in the courtroom, he can be a danger to Mr. Boltz until they can resolve their issues. Therefore, my order is to keep the weapons for one year and that Mr. Smythe be subject to a mental evaluation."
“I object. There is no evidence of mental instability here,” Joe’s lawyer said.
“Duly noted," the judge said."
He rapped his gavel.“My decision stands.”
The court scheduled a mental evaluation for Joe, who is not a happy camper.
The psychologist sent the assessment results to his lawyer and the court.
"In summary, Mr. Smythe suffers from intermittent explosive disorder. I recommend anger management classes and that he be kept free from issues that would cause him to become aggressive toward others. I do not feel he is a danger to himself
now."
The judge held another hearing to discuss the results of the mental evaluation. The judge ordered Joe to attend Anger management classes as a condition of returning his weapons in one year.
The verdict pissed Joe off.
Joe's hunting passed through the season. He attended anger management classes. A year passed, and the court held another hearing. Because he followed the court's orders and completed anger management, the court returned his weapons. Joe made sure no conflicts arose between him and Clifford.
Shortly after Joe received his guns back, he stopped by the liquor store and bought a fifth of Vodka. He was not much of a drinker, occasionally drinking a glass of wine. Drinking vodka mixed with an anger disorder was indeed a recipe for disaster. He loaded his double barrel 12 gauge while Nancy was asleep.
It was an early Friday evening. Clifford had just come home from a meeting with his ministry group. He was walking the line with his group, which was growing exponentially. He even came up with the slogan, "We cater to imperfect people." He became well-versed in the Bible and began leading Bible classes.
Joe called Clifford. "We need to talk," Joe said in a calm, alcohol-induced voice. "Let's meet out back."
“What’s up with him,” Clifford wondered.
Clifford did not know the court had returned the guns to Joe.
They met, facing each other over the fence.
"You know I missed my hunting season because of you and that dammed Red Flag Law, so that you will pay."
Before Clifford could answer, Joe leaned over the fence. A shot rang out.
The shot sent Clifford back several feet. As Clifford lay bleeding, Nancy heard the shot and ran out of the house.
She looked over the fence.
"What have you done? Are you crazy?"
“Don’t bother calling 911. The bastard deserves to die.”
She ran into the house, locked the door behind her, and called 911. The ambulance and cops arrived in 15 minutes, but he lay bleeding profusely.
Clifford whispered in the paramedic's ear. "I forgive him."
He succumbed on the way to the hospital
Nancy divorced Joe shortly after that.
The jury convicted Joe of second-degree murder, and his sentence was fifteen years in prison.
His sentence is on appeal.
Upon examination of Clifford's wallet, the authorities found a photo of a child and an adult in a sexually explicit environment.
"The choices we make and the tokens we take {or reject) determine the course of our lives, our paths, and the crossroads we take. We walk on a sidewalk of pride or in a gutter of shame." So were the choices that Joe and Clifford made that had transitions affecting them and those around them.
The end
BUSBY'S REDEMPTION