The Curse of 1977 (Book 2)

Chapter 30

"How many of you guys believe in jinxes?" An old, white homeless man asked his fellow bunkmates, as well as Cloyse, inside the men's shelter that evening.

The five men that surrounded him, two white and three black, all sat in amazed silence at the man's question. The two black men just twisted their lips and rolled their eyes, while the white men glanced at each other as though the question itself were a ticking time bomb.

But Cloyse remained perfectly still Indian style on his bunk bed steadily glaring at the old, odd man, waiting in ardent anticipation for him to finish what he was going to say.

"Man, what kind of jinx are you talking about?" One of the black men tossed up his hands. "I'm talking about witches hexes."

The old man adamantly pointed to the floor. "When I was sixteen and in the Navy, way back in 1912 we sailed to Guam. While there, we snuck up on this old witch woman who put a hex on one of our crewmates for stealing some of her beads."

"What kind of hex did she put on the fellow?" One of the white men peered into the old man's eyes.

"The hex was that of deep pain in the balls." The old man stared right back. "For weeks his balls itched and burned, until finally, they fell right off."

Every man, minus Cloyse, burst out in jovial laughter. "Man, that ain't no curse, that's called the blue ball snatch!" One of the black men giggled. "He screwed her, that's how he ended up with dropped balls!"

The old man just sat back on his bunk bed and rolled his eyes before waving his hand, as to say he was through entertaining his listeners.

Cloyse stared at the old, downtrodden man for a bit more before scanning his dull surroundings. Rough and ragged men, black, white, Hispanic and a couple of Asians were all gathered inside the stuffy shelter. The air-conditioner was out which meant oscillating fans that were distributed in various points throughout the area would have to suffice.

From a distance Cloyse could see the kitchen where two white men, one middle-aged and the other elderly, were conversing in what appeared to be a heated conversation. The young man made sure to keep his waning attention locked on both men, all the while watching the front entrance fifty-two feet to his left.

"You all can laugh at me all you want." The old man harangued his hecklers. "But I happen to know for sure that someone put a hex on this here city of ours."

Without warning, Cloyse's attention was immediately snatched from the kitchen and back to the conversation that was being held within his tight circle.

Yawning, one of the white men said, "I don't believe in hexes, but I do believe that this city is in for a whole world of hurt if we don't find whatever it is eating everyone up."

Cloyse sat sullen and motionless on his bunk bed and carefully observed his fellow mates as they bickered back and forth on a subject that in all honesty they had no clue as to what they were talking about.

journey than he ever did back at home. Surrounded by foreigners, naysayers and blusterous fools, Cloyse was suffocating. He could hardly even bear to be around them any longer, let alone listen to another word come out of their collective mouths. All

"Shit, all I know is that just one of these dogs killed Clavell and his entire crew in one night." One of the black men said. "And we all know how bad Clavell was. So just imagine

two." Cloyse grunted with his head still dropped

him stopped speaking and pointed their astonished faces at the man as

of them for them to do all the

Cloyse said, "Dey are more dan

dead has arisen at last." One of the

"I have seen dese tings and what dey

do they look like? Because all anyone can seem

in a raspy whisper, "You see dese people in here. People outside dis place. You all have not seen like I have. Dere is evil

the black men waved his hand. "Next thing you know

and cries in de night became more and more frequent. Until bodies began piling up all along de shores.

Every man gathered within the tiny circle all just sat with their collective jaws hanging to the floor as their eyes stayed on him like finely tuned targets. Their staggered silence meant absolutely nothing to Cloyse. He

Scratching at his heavy beard, the old man asked, "Where are you from anyways, young fella? Africa

from one of those cities out

stir within the shelter. Cloyse, along with the rest of his circle, all looked up to see the two white men that were arguing

Becoming anxious, Cloyse

here for the night,

goodness too, because I guarantee you, those women at their shelter definitely didn't think

blockades are useless." Cloyse grunted as he began to get up

where are you going?"

are you crazy? It's getting dark out there. Who knows where

Cloyse only stared at the man for a few scathing seconds before pulling himself away from them all and

the white men in charge of the shelter stood

Cloyse defiantly pointed at

man adamantly responded. "We're locking up for the night.

another. Every man in the shelter all stood by and watched

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