Demands My Soul -17-

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 17: Beau's Testimony

The Fulton County Courthouse stood like a monument to justice on Pryor Street, its neoclassical columns and granite facade projecting an authority that made Delores's stomach clench as she climbed the steps beside Rebecca Chen. The October morning was crisp and clear, but she felt none of the autumn beauty—only the weight of what was about to unfold inside those imposing walls.

"Remember," Rebecca said quietly as they approached the security checkpoint, "this is just a preliminary hearing. Judge Morrison, no relation to your family, despite the name, is simply determining whether there's sufficient cause to proceed with a full trial."

"And if she decides there isn't?"

"Then Craig wins by default, and you're left with the pittance your parents allocated for 'moral failures.'" Rebecca's voice was grim but determined. "But that's not going to happen. We have a strong case, and we have something Craig doesn't expect."

"What's that?"

"Your brother Beau."

Delores had spoken to Beau only once since his return from Iraq three days earlier, a brief phone call where he had assured her that he would be at the hearing and that he had "some things to say that might surprise everyone." She hadn't known what to make of that cryptic statement, but the certainty in his voice had given her hope.

Now, as she spotted him across the courthouse lobby, she barely recognized the man who had left for deployment eight months ago. He was leaner, more weathered, carrying himself with the careful alertness of someone who had spent months in a war zone. But more than the physical changes, there was something different in his bearing—a settled confidence that spoke of hard-won wisdom.

He wore his dress uniform, the Episcopal chaplain's insignia clearly visible on his collar. When he saw her, his face broke into a smile that was both familiar and transformed, and he crossed the lobby with purposeful strides.

"Delores." He embraced her without hesitation, and she felt tears spring to her eyes at the uncomplicated affection in the gesture. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. The flight from Germany was delayed, and I had to stop in Colorado to pick up some documents."

"What kind of documents?"

"Seminary transcripts, ordination certificates, theological position papers." His smile grew more mysterious. "Let's just say I've been doing some homework while I was overseas."

Craig appeared at the far end of the lobby, flanked by two attorneys in expensive suits and a woman Delores didn't recognize. When he spotted Beau in his chaplain's uniform, his expression shifted from confident to uncertain, as if he was trying to calculate the implications of his brother's unexpected transformation.

"Timothy," Craig said as he approached, his voice carefully neutral. "I wasn't sure you'd be here."

"Her name is Delores," Beau replied quietly, his tone carrying an authority that made Craig take a step back. "She's been Delores for sixteen years, Craig. She's our sister, and if you can't see that, then you're the one who's lost sight of family values."

"I see you've been influenced by some very progressive ideas while you were overseas," Craig said, his lawyer's instincts kicking in. "Perhaps we should discuss this privately before—"

"There's nothing to discuss privately. I'm here to testify on behalf of my sister, to speak the truth about THE ONE's love and what family really means." Beau's voice carried the conviction of someone who had wrestled with angels and emerged transformed. "I'm here as an ordained minister in the Episcopal Church to challenge the religious arguments you're using to justify your greed."

The word 'greed' hung in the air between them like an accusation, and Delores saw Craig's mask of professional composure slip for just a moment, revealing the uncertainty beneath.

Inside the courtroom, the atmosphere was charged with tension and expectation. Judge Patricia Morrison, a woman in her sixties with silver hair and sharp eyes, presided from the bench with the kind of authority that came from decades of sorting through family disputes and human frailty.

Delores sat at the plaintiff's table with Rebecca, her hands folded in her lap to hide their trembling. Behind her, she could feel the presence of her chosen family, Maria, Dr. Martinez, several members from her support group, and Serina, whose steady presence gave her strength.

Across the aisle, Craig sat with his legal team, occasionally glancing back at the gallery where several people Delores didn't recognize had gathered. Potential witnesses, she realized. People prepared to testify about her character, her relationships, her worthiness to inherit her parents' estate.

"This is a preliminary hearing," Judge Morrison announced, her voice carrying clearly through the courtroom, "to determine whether there is sufficient cause to proceed with a full trial regarding the estate of Harold and Margaret Morrison. Mr. Craig Morrison has challenged the inheritance claim of..." she paused, consulting her notes, "Ms. Delores Morrison, on the grounds that she has failed to meet certain conditions outlined in the deceased's will."

Craig's attorney, a sharp-faced man named Whitfield, rose to present their opening argument. His voice was smooth, professional, designed to make discrimination sound like reasonable moral standards.

"Your Honor, this case is fundamentally about honoring the clearly expressed wishes of the deceased. Harold and Margaret Morrison were devout Christians who believed strongly in traditional family values. They included specific moral requirements in their will because they wanted their estate to support behavior that aligned with their deeply held religious convictions."

He gestured toward a stack of documents on his table. "The evidence will show that the individual currently known as Delores Morrison is legally and factually Timothy Morrison, a male who has chosen to live in violation of his birth-assigned gender. Furthermore, recent surveillance has documented that this individual is engaged in a homosexual relationship, directly violating the will's requirement for moral behavior consistent with traditional values."

Delores felt her cheeks burn with anger and humiliation. The way Whitfield spoke about her—as if she were a fraud, a man in disguise, a violation of natural order—made her want to stand up and scream the truth of who she was. But Rebecca's hand on her arm kept her seated, kept her focused on the larger battle they were fighting.

"The deceased had every right to distribute their estate according to their moral convictions," Whitfield continued. "This court should not substitute its judgment for theirs, should not override their clearly expressed wishes simply because modern society has different views on these matters."

When Rebecca rose to respond, her voice carried a different kind of authority—the moral authority of someone fighting for justice rather than justifying prejudice.

"Your Honor, this case is indeed about honoring clearly expressed wishes—but not the wishes of the deceased. This case is about honoring THE ONE's clearly expressed wish that all people be treated with dignity and respect, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation."

She moved to stand directly in front of the judge, her posture confident and commanding. "The opposing counsel would have this court believe that discrimination is acceptable if it's dressed up in religious language, that prejudice is permissible if it's written into legal documents. But the law is clear—inheritance conditions that violate public policy are unenforceable, and discrimination based on gender identity and sexual orientation violates the most fundamental principles of human dignity."

Rebecca gestured toward Delores. "Ms. Morrison is not Timothy in disguise. She is a woman who had the courage to live authentically despite the cost, who has built a life of meaning and contribution, who deserves equal treatment under the law regardless of what her birth certificate says or who she chooses to love."

Then came the moment that would change everything. Rebecca called Beau to the witness stand, and he rose from the gallery with the bearing of someone who had found his calling and was ready to answer it.

The bailiff swore him in, and Beau placed his hand on the Bible with the reverence of someone who had spent months studying its true meaning. When he stated his name and occupation for the record, his voice carried clearly through the courtroom: "Beauregard Morrison, ordained transitional deacon in the Episcopal Church, currently pursuing ordination as a priest."

The murmur that rippled through the courtroom was audible, and Delores saw Craig's face go pale as he realized what was about to happen.

"Deacon Morrison," Rebecca began, "you are the brother of both the plaintiff and the challenger in this case?"

"I am the brother of Delores Morrison and Craig Morrison, yes."

"And you have recently returned from military deployment overseas?"

"I have. I spent eight months in Iraq working security while completing my Master of Divinity degree through correspondence with Virginia Theological Seminary."

"Can you tell the court about your theological education and how it has informed your understanding of this case?"

Beau straightened in the witness chair, and when he spoke, his voice carried the authority of someone who had wrestled with scripture and emerged with deeper understanding.

"Your Honor, I was raised in the Southern Baptist tradition, which taught me that THE ONE's love came with conditions, that divine acceptance required conformity to human interpretations of morality. But my seminary education opened my eyes to the true message of scripture, that THE ONE's love is radical, inclusive, transformative."

He paused, his gaze moving to Delores with unmistakable affection. "I studied the original Greek and Hebrew texts, learned about the cultural contexts of biblical passages, discovered how much of what I had been taught was human interpretation rather than divine command. And I realized that my sister Delores is exactly who THE ONE created her to be, not a mistake to be corrected, not a test to be endured, but a beloved daughter whose authentic life is a gift to the world."

The courtroom was completely silent now, everyone hanging on Beau's words as he continued his testimony.

"The opposing counsel has argued that my parents' will should be honored because it reflects their religious convictions. But I submit to this court that those convictions were based on fear rather than faith, on human prejudice rather than divine love."

His voice grew stronger, more passionate. "THE ONE's love doesn't come with gender requirements. THE ONE's love doesn't demand that we conform to other people's expectations of who we should be. THE ONE's love sees the heart, the soul, the authentic self that exists beneath all our performances and pretenses."

Beau turned to look directly at Craig, his expression sad but determined. "My brother Craig is using our parents' inability to accept Delores as justification for his own greed. He's taking their fear and turning it into a weapon against our sister's right to exist. That's not honoring their memory, that's betraying everything they should have stood for as people of faith."

"Objection!" Whitfield was on his feet, his face flushed with anger. "The witness is offering theological opinions, not factual testimony."

"Your Honor," Rebecca responded smoothly, "Deacon Morrison is a qualified religious authority offering expert testimony about the theological principles underlying this case. His credentials and education make him eminently qualified to speak on these matters."

Judge Morrison considered for a moment, then nodded. "Objection overruled. The witness may continue."

Beau's testimony continued for another twenty minutes, during which he systematically dismantled every religious argument Craig's team had prepared. He spoke about the Episcopal Church's full inclusion of LGBTQ+ members, about the difference between human religion and divine love, about the call to comfort the afflicted rather than afflict the comfortable.

"In my tradition," he said, "we believe that THE ONE's love is so amazing, so divine, that it demands our soul, our life, our all, not as sacrifice to human prejudice, but as response to unconditional grace. My sister Delores has given her soul, her life, her all to living authentically, to loving openly, to claiming her place in THE ONE's family regardless of what any human document might say."

When Rebecca asked him about the will's moral requirements, Beau's response was devastating in its simplicity: "The most moral thing my sister has ever done is choose to live as her authentic self. The most immoral thing happening in this courtroom is the attempt to deny her that right."

As Beau stepped down from the witness stand, the courtroom buzzed with conversation and the sound of reporters frantically taking notes. Delores felt tears streaming down her face—not tears of sadness, but tears of relief and gratitude and the kind of love that transcended blood relations to become something deeper, more authentic.

Craig's face was ashen as he watched his younger brother return to his seat in the gallery. The religious arguments he had planned to use were in ruins, undermined by someone with actual theological authority who could speak to the true meaning of faith and family.

Judge Morrison called for a brief recess, and as the courtroom emptied, Delores found herself surrounded by her chosen family—Maria hugging her fiercely, Dr. Martinez offering quiet words of encouragement, members of her support group expressing their pride and support.

But it was Serina's embrace that grounded her, that reminded her what she was fighting for beyond money and recognition.

"He was incredible," Serina whispered in her ear. "Your brother just changed everything."

When court reconvened, Craig's attorney attempted to salvage their case by calling witnesses to testify about Delores's "lifestyle" and "moral character." But Beau's testimony had shifted the entire framework of the discussion. Instead of defending her right to exist, they were now arguing about the nature of morality itself, about whether love could ever be immoral, about whether authenticity was a virtue or a vice.

The photographs that had been taken of her and Serina were introduced as evidence, but in the new context, they seemed to prove Beau's point rather than Craig's. Here was a woman capable of love, of connection, of building meaningful relationships. Here was someone living authentically, openly, courageously.

Judge Morrison studied the images with careful attention, then looked up at the courtroom. "I see two people who appear to care deeply for each other. I see what looks like a committed, loving relationship between consenting adults. If this is what the opposing counsel considers evidence of moral failing, then I question their understanding of morality."

The hearing concluded with closing arguments that felt almost anticlimactic after Beau's transformative testimony. Craig's team tried to refocus on legal technicalities and the deceased's right to distribute their estate according to their wishes. Rebecca argued for human dignity and equal treatment under the law.

But the real argument had been made by Beau, that love was love, that family was family, that THE ONE's children deserved equal treatment regardless of who they were or whom they loved.

Judge Morrison retired to consider her decision, and the courtroom emptied into the hallway where Delores was immediately surrounded by reporters asking for statements about the case. Rebecca handled most of the questions, but when one reporter asked Delores directly how she felt about her brother's testimony, she found her voice.

"I feel grateful," she said, her voice steady despite her emotions. "Grateful to have a brother who sees my soul before my shell, who understands what THE ONE's love really looks like, who's willing to stand up for what's right even when it's difficult."

Later that evening, as they waited for Judge Morrison's decision, Delores and Beau sat in her apartment talking about the day, about the transformation he had undergone overseas, about the future they hoped to build together as a family.

"I owe you an apology," Beau said, his voice heavy with regret. "Actually, I owe you about sixteen years' worth of apologies, but I'll start with the most important one."

"Beau—"

"Let me say this, please. I'm sorry for not seeing you sooner. I'm sorry for being so caught up in my own confusion that I couldn't recognize your courage. I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to earn my acceptance instead of just giving it freely."

Delores felt tears starting to form. "I never expected you to understand immediately. I knew it was hard—"

"It shouldn't have been hard to love my sister. It shouldn't have been complicated to see that you were happier, more yourself, more alive after your transition." Beau's expression grew more serious. "It shouldn't have taken me eight months overseas and a seminary education to realize that THE ONE's love doesn't come with gender requirements."

"What changed? What happened over there that made you see things differently?"

"I met people who had been rejected by their families for being themselves. I worked with chaplains who understood that THE ONE's love was bigger than human categories. I studied scripture in its original languages and discovered that most of the passages used to condemn people like you were mistranslations or taken out of context." Beau smiled sadly. "I realized that I had been choosing comfort over courage, tradition over truth, human religion over divine love."

As the evening wore on, they were joined by Serina, Maria, and other members of Delores's chosen family. The apartment filled with conversation and laughter and the kind of warmth that came from people who had chosen to see each other's truth and love what they found there.

"Whatever Judge Morrison decides," Beau said as the gathering began to wind down, "I want you to know that you have family who sees you, who loves you, who will stand with you regardless of what any legal document says."

"Even if it costs you money? Even if it means going against Craig?"

"Especially then. Money is just money, Delores. But family, real family, the kind that sees souls before shells, that's everything." Beau's eyes were bright with determination. "Besides, I have something Craig doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"I have the truth. I have THE ONE's love. I have the understanding that comes from actually studying what scripture says about love and acceptance and the radical inclusivity of divine grace." His smile was fierce. "And I have a sister who has taught me what courage really looks like."

That night, as Delores lay in bed with Serina beside her, she thought about the day's events, about the way Beau's testimony had shifted the entire conversation from legal technicalities to moral truths. She thought about the photographs that Craig's team had used as evidence against her, and how they had instead become proof of her capacity for love.

Most of all, she thought about the moment when Beau had looked directly at her from the witness stand and called her his sister, not with hesitation or qualification, but with the kind of certainty that came from finally understanding what family really meant.

The battle was far from over, but something fundamental had shifted in her favor. She was no longer fighting alone, no longer defending her right to exist without allies who understood her truth.

Tomorrow would bring Judge Morrison's decision, and with it either victory or the need to prepare for a longer legal battle. But tonight, she would rest in the knowledge that she had been seen, acknowledged, defended by someone who understood both the law and the deeper truths that transcended legal documents.

Beau had done more than testify on her behalf, he had transformed the entire framework of the case from a dispute about inheritance to a declaration about the nature of love itself. He had shown the court what authentic family looked like, what THE ONE's love really meant, what it cost to choose truth over comfort.

And in doing so, he had given her something more valuable than any inheritance: the knowledge that she was worthy of love exactly as she was, that her authenticity was a gift rather than a burden, that THE ONE's love was indeed so amazing, so divine, that it demanded nothing less than her soul, her life, her all, offered freely in response to unconditional grace.

The real victory had already been won. Whatever Judge Morrison decided, Delores had reclaimed her place in her family, had found her voice in the courtroom, had proven that love was stronger than law and truth more powerful than prejudice.

The transformation was underway. And THE ONE's love was winning.