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."

back, Charles said, "I didn't

"You could've stayed here with your flock. We were all here

Charles sat and looked back at the middle of the floor

feel like

"How do you

something was taken from me as well. And I'm not talking just about him physically,

"What do you think

waited for endless seconds before saying, "My

Hawthorne sat back and sighed, "Well, you certainly didn't leave me with a very easy job when you left. You never told me how difficult being a pastor would

eye and said, "You've been my friend

of help." Hawthorne giggled. "I had one young man ask me to help him fight some gang a

To Charles, just having the opportunity to joke, albeit briefly, was like hearing a favorite song from long ago; it felt good for a moment until the tune

"You should've never left, Charles." Hawthorne

in frozen time. His stare was locked on the pastor until

"Come in!" Hawthorne

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

Charles' presence. Charles stood to his feet and stepped forward

He smiled. "How have

dismayed, Mary pressed her thin lips together as tight as she could before replying in a cold tone, "Fine. She then turned back to

took the papers and placed them down onto his

as the woman simply turned, without taking another glance at him, and walked out

going myself."

"You don't have

He turned to Hawthorne and extended his hand

hand, Hawthorne instead grabbed Charles and pulled him in for a

just let me know." Hawthorne whispered into

Charles stood back with his bible in hand and said, "I need for God to

With that, Charles walked out of the office and through the sanctuary that lead to

stopped right in the middle of the floor, in between the aisle of pews.

wanted to drop to his knees which were already trying to buckle beneath him. But he stood strong until he

dress. Her hair was totally white, as was her face that looked as if it

him wanted to scream out loud, but Charles was aware that such an action would have been futile. The old hag just waved in

sure the double doors were shut all the

onto the 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 of his fists drawn before he recognized the

eyes lit up in surprise as

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

woman and embraced her as hard as he could; Lynnette returned the gesture, only her hug seemed to feel even more aggressive, as though

away from her grip, Charles looked

"I've been better." She

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

"How is

She hastily answered. "Look...I need to talk

the strangest manner possible. He couldn't speak for Lynnette, but Charles was at a

sore throat, Charles smiled and said, "Of course you can talk

burst of heat immediately struck him across the face. However, it wasn't heat from the temperature, but rather that of emotion. He hadn't forgotten

man cut on the ignition and pulled out and onto the road. He made sure to roll down his window first before suggesting the

window, Charles said, "I've been trying so hard to reach you these