I go to my Psycept corner desk and perform the usual ritual of draping the desk with a cloth, this time a light lavender, then turning on the video and recording equipment. After stating the case information and removing the items from their clear plastic bags, I begin the reading.
Franc Johnson was just eighteen years old when he was found stabbed to death in a room at a Halloween house party in the mid-1980s. Franc was the oldest of three kids and the only son. His mom was a single parent and worked three jobs to put food on the table and keep a roof over their head. She was so proud when Franc obtained a scholarship in basketball which allowed him to attend university in their hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. She was also devasted by his murder during the first semester of his freshman year. Franc’s mom died from breast cancer just a short time later and Franc’s sisters, both younger than ten at the time of his death, were raised by her aunt. While they loved Franc, they want to leave his murder alone and continue to live their lives inspired by their fond memories of him.
All of this was conveyed by Franc’s best friend, Julius, who petitioned this consultation. He was late meeting Franc at the party and feels guilty, as if maybe his presence could have prevented the murder. He also included some information gleaned from other partygoers. Some saw Franc arrive with a girl they didn’t recognize, and none remember her leaving. The police couldn’t identify her and believe that maybe Franc made advances towards her and she stabbed him to defend herself. She was white and Franc was Black, so the police twisted the few facts they had to fit a narrative they were comfortable with. Julius says that Franc would never do that, something else happened and he wants to clear Franc’s name and find the killer since the police still won’t do anything three decades later.
First up is a Walkman with headphones attached. This reminds me of my childhood, I haven’t seen a Walkman in almost twenty years, since mp3 players were first introduced. There’s a mixtape in the tape deck and I feel compelled to do something a little different. Usually I hold items in my hand to connect with the person’s memories, but that isn’t the only way I can.
“Psycept here. I am going to get batteries for the Walkman and then put on the headphones. There will be a slight delay.” After grabbing some rechargeable batteries that fit, I sit back down, close my eyes, then put the headphones on. Just that motion relaxes me, and I know that Franc did this hundreds of times before his death. Pressing play, I am awash in the hip-hop beats pouring forth from the headphones. I don’t recognize the music, but Franc knows Run-D.M.C., Roxanne Shanté, and early Beastie Boys to name a few, therefore I know them. It seems as if his memories were just waiting for someone that could accept them. I wasn’t dropped in a memory lake nor did I struggle my way to a memory thread. The music from the Walkman simply transported me directly to Franc’s memories of that night.
“The sun has barely set and it’s not too cool outside as I walk to the party. It’s supposed to be a costume one, but Mama don’t like me dressing up for Halloween. She says it gives the police even more ideas to hassle me. Luckily, I can wear a pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black hoodie and claim to be Axel Foley.
“As I turn the corner, I hear a girl’s raised voice. Stay away, Matt. If I knew you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have come. I’ll call for a ride as soon as you get outta my way. There are a group of white teens in the front yard of a house. It’s not unusual to see white people in the neighborhood, we’re one of those sections that are about equal in the number of Black and white people. We don’t shop at the same stores, go to the same churches, nor hang out much, but we live in the same area and attend the same schools.
“I hear the group laugh at the girl’s words. Under the streetlamps and house lights, I see she’s petite with light brown, almost blond hair. She’s dressed as, well a wannabe valley girl or party girl or something. I can’t tell if that is her normal clothes or if she’s supposed to be Madonna or one of those characters from ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’ or ‘Goonies’ or a John Hughes movie. Mama makes me take my sisters to the theater once a month and they always want to see those kinds of movies. ‘Goonies’ was okay.
“I don’t know if the group couldn’t hear it or chose to ignore it, but the girl’s voice was raised in fear, not the anger she was trying to project. I slow down to keep an eye on the situation. Come on, Brenda, give Matt another chance. I mean, he’s the captain of the football team and being his girlfriend is a big deal for a sophomore, I hear from one of the girls in the small crowd. Brenda probably won’t get any help from that quarter. Normally I’d leave it alone, but with the girl being denied the opportunity to call for a ride, her being scared, and no help coming from the people around her makes me hesitate. I wouldn’t want my sisters to ever be in this kind of scenario.
“So, rather than passing the house I stop on the
