In His Place: A Modern-Day Challenge for Readers of In His Steps

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In His Place: A Modern-Day Challenge for Readers of In His Steps Page 13

by Harry C. Griffith


  Looking her directly in the eyes, I continued, “I can’t tell you exactly what will happen when you pray that prayer. God works with each of us in different ways. You may feel a warmness come over you, or you may not. Anything can happen, but whatever it is will be good. The main thing that will happen is that you should feel some sense of peace even in the midst of all the bad things going on in your life. That’s because you will be a new person, a new person in Christ.”

  Connie expelled her breath loudly. “Well, I really don’t understand it all, but I’m ready to pray if you will sort of lead me.”

  I gave her a reassuring look. “Just repeat after me: ‘Lord, please accept me as I am, and make me into the person You want me to be.’ ”

  Connie bowed her head, closed her eyes, and said the prayer and then somewhat amazingly and tearfully added: “And Lord, look after Tyler. He did a terrible thing. I don’t know how he could have done such a terrible thing, but he did, and many people are suffering because of it. Forgive me for not having been a better mother to him. Forgive me now for worrying about myself. Let me put all of this in Your hands. Thank You.”

  “That was just right, Connie. Now let’s see what the Lord is going to do with all of this.”

  As I drove away from Connie’s, the sun broke through. It blended with the hope—almost joy—I was feeling in my heart. In the midst of all the things that seemed to be going wrong, Connie’s prayer was like that blaze of sunshine. God had brought this woman from heartbreaking tragedy to new life in Him. Something was going right, and God gave me the privilege of being a part of it. My mood shifted from high anxiety to anticipating the challenges ahead.

  Chapter 28

  My next stop was the Belvedere Police Station, located in what is called the Municipal Center—a rather high and fancy name for anything in Belvedere. The center consisted of the municipal court, the city clerk’s office, and other city offices. The building was one of the newer ones in town, six or so years old, although it was really a renovation of the old Moose Lodge. The police office was downstairs in an area that had once, ironically, been a bar.

  I had been impressed with the way the police handled the shooting at the high school. They were quickly on the scene and professional in sorting things out in the midst of chaos, especially when surrounded by other law enforcement, fire, and emergency responders from all over the area.

  I didn’t know Clyde Matthews, the police chief. He had only held the office for a little over a year. During that time I had had no direct contact with him, including on the day of the shooting.

  The police sergeant on duty received me cordially and buzzed the chief’s office to see if he was available to see me. He told me how to get to the chief’s office. I guess I expected the chief to come out and meet me in the hallway, but he didn’t. Instead, as I entered his office I saw a large man casually seated behind a well-ordered desk with a smirk on his face.

  “Chief Matthews, I am Steve Long of Incarnation Church.”

  The policeman had a sour look on his face, shifted his position in his chair, and said in a flippant manner, “Yeah, I know who you are.” Matthews didn’t get up to shake my hand, making it clear I was an unwelcome visitor.

  “That doesn’t get us off to a very good start when I wanted to congratulate you on the way your guys handled the situation at the high school on the day of the shooting.” Actually I wanted to say a lot more, considering the way he had apparently treated Connie Wooten, but now was not the time to get into an argument with him or to otherwise antagonize him.

  “Sorry,” he said in a way that didn’t sound like he was. He clicked off his computer and leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

  He hadn’t offered me a seat, so I remained standing in front of his desk. “I’ve just come from Connie Wooten’s. She’s being threatened. Most of it has come from phone calls, but this brick and note hit her trailer last night.” I tried to hand the items to him. His unwillingness to reach forward to accept them gave me a “so what?” message, so I set them down on his desk.

  Trying to look undeterred by his disinterest, I continued, “Two things. I’m wondering if you can figure out who threw this, and I’m hoping you can give her some protection.”

  “You’re trying to put me between a rock and a hard place, preacher.” The chief huffed through his cheeks. “The fact is, the people of Belvedere probably don’t want the woman hurt, but they sure as heck want her gone. You’d be a lot more help to her and to the rest of us if you’d just talk her into leaving.”

  I could feel my frustration and anger building once again. How could it be that with every corner I turned I seemed to meet with opposition, disappointment, defeat? The top man in my church had apparently become my enemy, and now the top man in law enforcement refused to take his job seriously and toyed with me in the process.

  I could feel the heat in my face. “But Mrs. Wooten has no place to go, and it’s your job as chief of police of this town to protect her.”

  There was a long silence as Chief Matthews seemed to be weighing his options. “You don’t really think having this brick and note is going to tell me anything, do you? We’re not a big city police force with a forensic lab and all that stuff, and I don’t think we could make anything of this if we did. And how many policemen do you think I have? I don’t have teams of guys who can guard people around the clock like they do on those cop shows on TV.”

  “I’m not talking about round-the-clock protection.” I forced a smile. “What I’m concerned about is what might happen after dark. Surely you could have a patrol car come through the trailer park during the night.”

  “Even in our little town, we’ve got some serious drug stuff going on at night, and it’s not in the trailer park. We have to put the men we have where the greatest danger is.”

  I seemed to be fighting a losing battle, but I refused to walk away from it as easily as he wanted. So I simply stood there, my eyes glued on his face.

  He pushed his chair back, raised his head toward the ceiling, and rolled his eyes as he let out a big breath. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can do; but I still say that the best thing you can do is get her out of here.”

  “Thanks.” For nothing.

  Chapter 29

  After leaving Clyde Matthews’s office, I had a brainstorm. Why not go see Charles Barnett, the editor of the local paper, the Belvedere Herald? Barnett, though only a Christmas and Easter Christian, was a member of Incarnation.

  I was fortunate to find him in. Maybe things would start going in the right direction after all.

  For a small-town publication, the Herald did well. A twice-a-week paper, it was printed in Atlanta and shipped to Belvedere for delivery. The quality of the articles, ads, and other features was excellent, and it apparently had wide subscribership throughout the area. Belvedere was proud of its hometown newspaper.

  It wasn’t the first time I had been in Charles Barnett’s office, but I remained impressed. It was a welcoming presence. As might be expected, the large mahogany desk, with the comfortable chair and credenza behind it, dominated the room. But the front part of the room contained plush leatherette armchairs arranged around a coffee table. This provided a place where Barnett could meet with visitors or staff in an informal setting. Bookcases filled with a great variety of books lined the walls. For a small-town newspaper editor, Charles Barnett was an educated man.

  As I came into the room, Barnett rose from his desk and met me with a smile and a firm handshake. A handsome man in his late fifties, he showed the early stages of a weight problem but generally seemed healthy and in good spirits.

  He pointed me to one of the armchairs and sat across from the coffee table, offering to get us some coffee, which I declined. With the formalities behind us, Barnett’s face became more somber as though he sensed I was not making a social call. “What’s going on?”

  “A lot!” I shifted my body from side to side in the chair, trying to get comfortable.
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  Barnett, who undoubtedly had an ear for whatever was going on in Belvedere, decided to try again. “Is there a problem at church? I hope not. You’re the best pastor we’ve ever had. I know you can’t prove it by me because I miss church so often. But you know how it is. My work just interferes with regular attendance on Sunday mornings.”

  I could have argued with him on that, because he knew it was rationalization and not truth that he spoke. But for now I had something much more urgent on my mind.

  “Well, thanks for the kind words, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because of something tied into the shooting at the high school. Connie Wooten, the mother of the shooter, isn’t a bad person. Even so, the people of Belvedere—or at least some of them—want her out of town and seem to be threatening violence if she stays. I’ve talked with Chief Matthews about it but received a lukewarm response, to say the least.”

  “What can I do?”

  “What can you do? As editor of the paper, you can influence thought in this community. Can’t you write an editorial that calls for understanding and reconciliation? Or at least calm the waters?”

  He tented his fingers in a thoughtful pose. Good sign. At least he seemed more receptive than the police chief had been.

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “In truth, what I might say in the paper probably has a lot less influence than people think. I wish it weren’t so, but I have to be realistic about it. What I write is just my opinion, and others are free to have their own. But let me think about it.”

  I thanked him.

  “Now,” he continued, “give me your reading on what people are thinking.”

  “Normally fair-minded people like Clifton Stoner feel strongly that Connie Wooten’s continued presence in the community is a constant reminder of what her son did, something that will grieve the people of this town for years to come. I understand that, even though I don’t agree with it. But there are others who have revenge on their minds. Not only has Mrs. Wooten gotten threatening phone calls, but a brick was thrown against her trailer with a note telling her to get out of town or face the consequences. In the meantime, she’s been fired from her job—again, as a vengeful act—so she has no money and no place to go.”

  Barnett tapped his finger on his chin. I waited. After a few moments, he nodded, I think more to himself than me. “It’s a dilemma all right. Let me see what I can do.”

  I rose to shake his hand. “I’d be grateful,” I said. “I understand why people don’t want Mrs. Wooten around, but what happened wasn’t her fault. I’ve gotten to know her a little bit. She’s basically a good person, but she has lost everything.” I counted off with my fingers. “First, her husband to cancer, then her son, now her job. What’s more, she has become a Christian from a totally secular background. She wants to do the right thing. Now isn’t a time for her to be thrown to the wolves.”

  Barnett nodded once more and repeated himself. “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

  Chapter 30

  My next stop was Philip Treadway’s lumberyard. It was time to bring my friend up-to-date on what was happening—as though Philip wouldn’t already know almost all of it.

  I sat at the coffee counter while Philip dealt with a handful of customers, who averted their eyes from me. After he’d assisted them, he came over.

  “Remember the good old days, Steve? Those times when you would come around and we’d tell jokes and talk about all the good things happening in Belvedere? Different story now, huh?”

  “Sadly, that’s just the way it is.” I leaned my hands on the counter. “Once again I’m here to give you all the bad news, if there is any you don’t already know.”

  “Shoot.” Philip cringed, immediately sorry for such a wrong choice of words.

  I waved it away with a nervous chuckle. Then my face became serious again. “I had the confrontation with Clifton. It ended with his saying he wished he never had to see me ever again, or words to that effect. Then he and two other members of the church board showed up at the service for Tyler Wooten, looking like executioners waiting for the hanging.”

  Before I could continue, Philip broke in. “Situation’s going from bad to worse.”

  “I’ll say!”

  He shook his head then looked me straight in the eyes. “Tell me the worse.”

  “Connie Wooten is being threatened, and the police chief doesn’t seem to be interested in doing anything about it. I guess that and my situation are the two immediate crises.”

  “Steve, you’ve gotten to know a lot about Belvedere in the years you’ve been here, but you haven’t learned all the family connections. Mike Troutman is undoubtedly the main force behind the threats to the Wooten woman, and he is Police Chief Clyde Matthews’s favorite nephew. And that means Matthews has lost a loved one—Mike’s daughter—in the shooting.”

  Another punch below the belt. Everything seemed stacked against Connie Wooten. “You’re right. I had no idea. I’ve seen Troutman in action, but tell me more about this guy.”

  “Troutman’s daughter, as I said, was killed in the shooting, so he has reason to want to do something. But he’s also a hothead who would find it easy enough to do something really stupid.”

  “So, from your vantage point—and you always seem to have a good one—what does this mean?”

  “It means that these guys will ultimately take some deadly action against the Wooten woman if she doesn’t leave town. And the police, because of Clyde Matthews, will do nothing to prevent it.”

  I gasped. “Deadly action?”

  “My guess is that they would grab her, probably rough her up a bit, drive her to some remote place, and throw her out. Worse still, they would burn her out of her home.”

  I was at a loss for words. After absorbing this, I tried a new approach. “Would it do any good for me to go talk with Troutman?”

  “None. Total waste of time.”

  “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “Well, let’s think about it.” Philip tilted his head, closed his eyes, and gave the matter some thought.

  I’m always amazed at how he seemed to be able to wrestle through issues and come up with practical solutions, although I wasn’t sure I would be happy with the results this time.

  After a few minutes of contemplation, Philip looked directly at me and said as though he were still working out the matter in his mind, “Two things. First, I know the sheriff, Don Jones, over in Davisville. I’ll call him and let him know about the threats against Mrs. Wooten and Clyde Matthews’s reluctance to do anything about them, and see what he thinks we should do.

  “Second,” he continued, “the guys who are making the threats won’t try anything during the daytime. They’ll wait for darkness, ply themselves with beer or whiskey to work up their so-called courage, then do whatever they decide to do. So, someone needs to be keeping an eye out for the Wooten woman in the early hours of the night, and—because of Clyde Matthews—it won’t be the police.”

  “Who, then?”

  Philip pointed at my chest. “You take tonight, and I’ll take tomorrow night.”

  I hated to admit it, but in addition to being nonconfrontational, I thought of myself as a coward in other ways as well. I’ve never been one for physical violence. Even my participation in sports had been volleyball, which should tell you something about me.

  “What good would that do? I mean, if it’s a gang, how would we stop them?”

  “Just being there as an eyewitness to what they are about could put a stop to it. Plus, we’ve both got cell phones and can call for help.”

  It all sounded rather doubtful to me, but I couldn’t let Philip see my faintheartedness. After all, why was he willing to stick his neck out? I saw the problem as mine. I was the one who befriended Connie Wooten. As far as I knew, Philip had never even seen the woman. Was this just friendship and concern for me, or was he testing me to see if I would live up to my incarnation challenge? I considered some way to bail out, but I was in a corner and kn
ew no option but to agree with his plan.

  Trying to sound confident rather than allowing my voice to crack, I found myself saying, “Okay. If you’re really willing to do that, I will, too.”

  Before I left the store, we made some tactical decisions about calls we might make from our cell phones if we needed help. Obviously, Chief Matthews would not be on our list.

  Chapter 31

  When I finally got home from all the stuff I dealt with all day, Jayne’s embrace at the front door held an extra measure of love and understanding for what I was working through. But it was also the hug of someone reaching for safety in what seemed like a desperate situation. In the back of her mind, I know the question was, What are we going to do?

  Though we both showed signs of mental and physical exhaustion, I knew my wife would want me to hold nothing back. I tried to fill her in on all of the things that happened that very eventful day.

  She physically deflated, almost like the air going out of a balloon. “I’m trying not to panic about the situation, but what do you really think is going to happen?”

  I looked at the floor. “I have no idea. Philip Treadway thinks I should go plant a church, one in which people are told upfront about the incarnation challenge.”

  “Is that realistic?” was Jayne’s practical question. “Where would it be, here or somewhere else?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Truth be told, I’m just grasping at straws at this point. We’ve got to have faith. And look, you’re the strong one in this family. While I’m flailing around trying to figure out what is going on and what to do about it, I’m counting on you to keep me on track.”

  “Ha!” She poked me in the chest. “If you’re counting on me for much more than just loving you and the children and trying to be adaptable to whatever happens, you’re leaning on a weak reed.”

 

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