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.

The young man was numb. He felt more 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 right then was drop his head in defeat and try to drown out their voices with the sounds of other men gathered inside the

Clavell and his entire crew in one night." One of

with his head still dropped

stopped speaking and pointed their astonished faces at the man as

of them for them to

Raising his head, Cloyse said, "Dey are more dan dogs. Dey are

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

"I have seen dese tings and what dey

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

Cloyse only glared deep at the shabby man before saying in a raspy whisper, "You see dese people in here. People outside

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

and more frequent. Until bodies began piling up all along de shores. Bodies of women, children, even other animals. Where is God? Where is Jesus? Nowhere to be found. All I've ever seen is Lucifer. He

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 sulked inside his bitter trance

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

no, he's from one of those cities out there in California I

circle, all looked up to see the two white men that

Becoming anxious, Cloyse asked, "What are dey

us in here for

women at their

useless." Cloyse grunted as he

"Hey, where are you going?" One white

dark out

seconds before pulling himself away from them all

One of the white men in charge of the shelter

"I'm leaving!" Cloyse defiantly pointed

"We're locking up for the night. Once these boards

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

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