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.

hopeless at that point in his excruciating 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 he could do

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

"Dere are two." Cloyse grunted with his head

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

of them for them to do

Raising his head, Cloyse said,

this, the dead has arisen at last." One of the black men pointed at

"I have seen dese tings and what

kid, what do they look like? Because all anyone can seem to say is that they saw nothing

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

the black men waved his hand. "Next thing you know he'll be preaching to us

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

the floor as their eyes stayed on him like finely tuned targets. Their staggered silence meant absolutely nothing to Cloyse. He sulked inside his bitter trance like a cool bath on an otherwise sweltering evening. He didn't even desire to make eye contact with

his heavy beard, the old man asked, "Where are

one of those cities out there in California I bet." One of the

along with the rest of his circle, all looked up to see the two white men that were arguing in the kitchen, along with several other men, putting up five foot tall boards against the

Cloyse

in here for the night, my man," one black man

"Thank goodness too, because I guarantee you, those women at their shelter

as he began to

you going?" One white man asked.

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

only stared at the man for a few scathing seconds before pulling himself away

One of the white men in charge of the shelter stood

"I'm leaving!" Cloyse defiantly pointed

"I don't think so." The man adamantly responded. "We're locking up for the night. Once these boards are up, no one gets in

man, Cloyse began removing one board after another. Every man in the shelter all stood by and watched in wonder at what the young man was attempting to do;

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