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.

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

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

Cloyse grunted with his head still dropped to

speaking and pointed their astonished faces at the man as

"It had to be two of them for them to do all the killing like they've been doing." The old man

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

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

seen dese tings and what dey can

white men spoke up. "Tell me, kid, what do they look like? Because all anyone can seem to say is that they saw

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

"Next thing you know he'll be preaching to us about God and

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

staggered silence meant absolutely nothing to Cloyse. He sulked inside his bitter trance like a cool bath on an otherwise sweltering evening.

his heavy beard, the old man asked, "Where are you from anyways,

of those cities out there in California I bet."

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

Becoming anxious, Cloyse asked,

"They're locking us in here for the night, my man," one black

because I guarantee you, those women at their shelter definitely didn't think of doing that." The old

blockades are useless." Cloyse grunted as

"Hey, where are you going?" One white

It's getting dark out there. Who knows

Cloyse only stared at the man for a few scathing seconds before

are you going, young man?" One of the white men in charge

"I'm leaving!" Cloyse defiantly pointed

man adamantly responded. "We're locking up for the night. Once these boards are up, no one gets in or out

shelter all stood by and

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