The Curse of 1977 (Book 2)

Charles sat inside the quiet office of his former church waiting patiently while viewing the walls that at one time bore all of his personal property. From one end of the small office to the other he carefully studied until his eyes met up with the middle of the floor.

Charles sat and stared at the grimy carpet where a small chair once sat. In the chair was a young man that Charles once knew; a young man that he spoke so fondly to one Sunday morning a time ago.

The man scratched at his growing, grey beard. He wore his jacket that smelled of aging sweat, while his dingy, white undershirt underneath stuck to his chest. His corduroy pants looked as if they hadn't been pressed in weeks, while his shoes still wore the dried up dirt stains of his ill-fated trip to the country.

Charles remained in his seat, still looking down at the middle of the floor with a drooping bottom lip. All he could hear was his son's voice speaking to him. It didn't matter what he was saying, as long as Isaac was talking, Charles could keep the image inside his head.

The office door abruptly opened, behind it appeared Mr. Hawthorne, who with a bible in hand, also wore a vexed frown upon his light-skinned face.

Charles immediately pulled himself out of his trance before sitting up and paying absolute attention to Hawthorne who sat down behind his desk and placed the bible in front of him.

"I found it in the janitor's closet, of all places." Hawthorne said while pointing at the bible. "Brother, do you know how it even got in there?"

Shaking his head from side to side, Charles replied with a grin, "I can't even begin to imagine."

"Well, it's yours." Hawthorne smiled back before gently shoving the book towards Charles.

Charles reached and retrieved the bible. He sat back with it and ruffled through the pages. "It looks like it hasn't been damaged at all."

Hawthorne sat and thoughtfully stared at Charles in the most pitiable way. The man folded his hands and asked, "Charles, aren't you hot?"

Taking his eyes away from his bible, Charles waved his hand saying, "Nah, I'm fine."

Hawthorne then sat back in his chair. "Did you know that Sister Woods' granddaughter had her baby last month?"

With a simple smile, Charles replied, "No, I didn't. That's good."

"Have you heard from Lynn and the baby lately?"

Charles leaned over in his seat and sighed, "No, Lynn is out there somewhere. All I can do is pray for the child."

"Well, she is grown; I guess she has to find her own way in the world."

"Yeah, I reckon so." Charles groaned.

A deafening silence lingered all around the men like dense fog. The longer it was quiet, the less Charles could think of something to say.

"We got a few new members last month, too." Hawthorne mentioned from out of nowhere."

"Well, praise Jesus for that." Charles mumbled with a humble grin.

"We were gonna try and have our picnic last Saturday, but—

"Was I wrong for sending Isaac to that hospital?" Charles unexpectedly asked.

Hawthorne sat with a paused appearance written all over his face. It seemed as if the question were offsetting to him, considering the paleness his face took on at that moment.

"Brother, I...I can't answer that for you."

"I can't answer it either." Charles' head hung.

"You have to understand, you just up and left everyone."

Sitting back, Charles said, "I didn't know what

could've stayed here with your flock. We were

back at the middle of the floor for a moment before turning

just feel like something

"How do you

when Isaac was taken, something was taken from me as

"What do you

seconds before saying, "My tongue won't let me

back and sighed, "Well, you certainly didn't leave me with a very easy job when you left. You

"You've been my friend and deacon for

"I had one young man ask me to help him fight some gang a couple of months ago. Do I honestly look like I can fight?"

men just laughed for a while before coming back down and settling. To Charles, just having the opportunity to joke, albeit briefly, was like hearing a favorite song from long ago;

"You should've never left, Charles." Hawthorne seriously stated at

frozen time. His

"Come in!"

the door appeared an older, black lady with some papers in her hand. "Good afternoon, Pastor. I have

The woman paused at the sight of Charles' presence. Charles stood to his feet

Mary." He

replying in a cold

took the papers and placed them down onto

with a heavy stomach as the woman simply turned, without taking another glance at him,

"Well...I'd better be going myself." Charles murmured

have

"Yes I do." He turned to Hawthorne and extended his hand for a

But rather than shake his hand, Hawthorne instead grabbed

let me know."

Charles stood back with his bible in hand

out of the office

he carried on through the peacefully quiet area, he felt something tap him on the shoulder from behind. Charles immediately stopped right in the middle of the floor, in between the aisle of

the ominous silence, he was completely surrounded. It was such a dreadful feeling that the man wanted to drop to his knees which were already trying to buckle beneath him. But he stood strong until he was eventually able to at least turn his head to

her face that looked as if it were dipped in white paint. She was waving back at Charles in

aware that such an action would have been futile. The old hag

make sure the double doors were shut all the way; he

hood, Charles whipped his car keys out of his pants pocket before a person came trotting out from behind the vehicle as

of instinct, Charles swung around with both

surprise as

Shaking with her arms outstretched, Lynnette carefully approached Charles. "I...I saw your car

the gesture, only her hug seemed to feel even more

Politely prying himself away from her grip, Charles looked down at her and asked, "How...how are you doing,

"I've been better." She

just one glance Charles could tell otherwise, but he also realized that he himself wasn't too far from judgment. A swelling of pity dropped deep down into his gut. For the first time

"How is Isaiah

"Uh, he's fine." She hastily answered. "Look...I need to

speak for Lynnette, but Charles was at a complete loss for words on so many levels. He was elated to see her, and frightened all

and said, "Of course you

closed his door a burst of heat immediately struck him across the face. However, it wasn't heat from the temperature, but rather that of emotion. He

road. He made sure to

moment she rolled down her window, Charles said, "I've