The Curse of 1977 (Book 2)

Like a frightened kitten Lynnette crept into the semi-busy police station where a light stream of disorderly traffic swept through the floor; from officers escorting pimps and prostitutes, to drug addicts and homeless people being processed at various points throughout the area.

In Lynnette's mind everyone that surrounded her were shadows that were caving in on her. She held her boney arms as though she were freezing cold while trying not to make physical contact with any of the other undesirables that resided in the station's front lobby.

Ahead of her was a long podium that stretched at least fifty feet wide. At the very center of the podium was an older black lady who was dressed in full police regalia and steadily writing away on a piece of paper while successfully ignoring the rest of the world around her.

"Excuse me." Lynnette meekly gawked at the woman.

The lady, who was still scribbling away on her piece of paper, didn't remove her eyes from her duty.

"Can I help you?" She mumbled.

"My...my son has been kidnapped." Lynnette stammered.

At the snap of a finger the lady stopped writing and looked straight at Lynnette asking with a suddenly concerned look, "How long ago was your son taken?"

"I...I don't know for sure. Maybe about an hour ago or something."

"Okay, just hold on, I'll be right back," the woman said while getting up from out of her seat and walking away.

Lynnette stood by and watched as the unnamed shadows passed by her in a simultaneous chorus of blundering chaos. She didn't know whether to remain at the podium or simply walk away altogether. She couldn't stop shaking, and the more she thought of Isaiah the more she just wanted to break down and bawl all over the floor. It had been months since she had control over her own being.

"Can I help you?" A middle-aged, black police officer approached Lynnette.

Lynnette looked at the man and tried to speak. "I...my son has been taken away."

"Okay, follow me and we'll see what we can do."

The man led Lynnette away from the open floor and to a series of desks that were located in an adjacent area. Within the area were other officers who were either heading home for the evening or just beginning their shifts.

The officer pulled out a chair for Lynnette to sit in. Seated just three feet beside her was another desk where a white man who was disguised as a mime was arguing with an officer.

"Okay, my name is Officer Barron." The man said as he sat down behind his desk. "And what is your name, ma'am?"

"Uh, Lynnette Glover," she timidly replied. Barron paused for a bit looking as if he were trapped inside a thought.

"Glover, Glover. Why does that name sound so familiar?" He tapped his fingers on his desk. "It doesn't matter. Miss Glover, can you describe your son for me, please?"

"He's two years old. He has...he has." Lynnette tried and tried so diligently but could not seem to conjure a mere picture of her son in her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not thinking very clearly right now.."

"That's okay, but we need some kind of description in order to get this search underway. Now, what was he wearing when you last saw him?"

"I...I don't know for sure."

Barron placed his pen down onto the desk before sitting and studying Lynnette very meticulously.

"Miss Glover, are you sure that your son is even missing?"

"Yes, yes he is!" Lynnette hurried to say. "You see, I haven't been home in a few days. I've been...working a lot."

Barron continued to hand the young woman the 'square eye' before he picked up his pen and began writing all over again.

"Can you possibly give me anything to go on? Something about your son that we could latch on to in order to make this easier," Barron persisted.

Lynnette bore down as hard as she could before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "He has curly hair and a scar on his left hand that his...father gave him."

"Curly hair and a scar on his left hand," Barron recited to himself while writing. "Is it possible that his father—

Barron right there stopped himself before taking his pen and nibbling on the very tip while staring on at Lynnette. "Now I remember that name." He said in a low voice.

Lynnette only turned her head and blushed the longer Barron looked at her. "Miss Glover, where was your son when he was abducted?"

"He was with my parents at their house."

"Okay, and what's your parents' address?"

"2167 Anders Road."

"Would your parents be able to give an accurate description of your son? It would help."

Shaking her head in a futile manner, Lynnette said, "No, they were both attacked this evening, too."

"I'm taking that this was a burglary?"

"Yes."

"Did your parents happen to get a description of the intruder or intruders?"

"My mother said that there was—

Lynnette's brain came to a complete and abrupt stop at that very instant. All she could think of was what her mother had mentioned.

"Miss Glover, are you okay?" Barron waved his hand in front of her blank, pale face.

At once, Lynnette started to tremble all over again. "My...my mama said

were the other two?" She then began

Reaching his hand out, Barron said, "Okay, Miss Glover, I'm going to need you

said there were three of them!" Lynnette sobbed loud enough for everyone within earshot to

Glover, please try and

don't know who the other two

my own." Barron said. "But in order for us to find your child, I need for you to settle down

her hands together as tight as possible. "I know one of them." She whimpered. "She had these brown eyes and afro puffs. She was dark skinned. The last

Writing on his pad, Barron asked, "Okay,

two." Lynnette tried to catch her breath. "My mother said that there were three of them, but I

"Is it possible that this woman could be part of a gang?" Barron inquired. "We have been seeing a spike in gang activity in the city as

warm air around her. The words she wanted and needed to say were right there on the very tip of

to tell you something that you won't believe at first, but it needs to be said

young woman while not batting a single eyelash as he stared

tell you won't sound...real, but it's all I have. These animal killings that have been

on the other side of the area. It was two men wrestling with several police officers on their way into the

they were doing and directed their attention at the melee which began sprawling all

breathlessly stated as he shot up

all descended upon the two unruly men in order to subdue the turmoil, while Lynnette

from the spurts of profanity-laced mayhem clear on the other side of the room, to her own son; no matter what, the woman could not catch a simple breath. She had spent months ignoring Isaiah to the point where at times she forgot that the boy actually

every thought seemed to do was make her body shudder from head to toe. She couldn't believe that he was gone. The same child that she hadn't seen in days was nowhere to be found, and just knowing

a man's

with the man seated only three feet

"What?" She cleared her

man in his mime disguise casually remarked from his chair. "Drinking a

herself, Lynnette sat up in her seat and wiped her misty

"Believe me, sister, I used to shoot up, too. That is until a good friend told me about the wonderful effects of tea calming

Lynnette looked at the man and arrogantly said, "For you information,

for the man to stare at Lynnette's scarred up

in here of all places shaking like a leaf.

Lynnette tried her hardest not to look at the man, who with his makeup only appeared as a scary clown in her eyes, despite his

at that mess over there." He nodded

her head to view the carnage that was

that back," he sniggered. "I'm actually here because I was harassing this elderly couple. They said they would give me five dollars for my routine, but once I was through, the old geezers just up and walked away. Next thing

that you're sitting in here

you're right." The

her shakes would end, Lynnette watched in silent comfort as the officers eventually brought the two men

and there's nothing any of us can do to kill it." Her voice faltered. "I've seen it before

actually seen this animal before?" The mime asked

she replied. "Ever since then...I know what the devil looks like. He either has fur, or he

like a

"No, I'm not, I just see people for who they

white fellow. He's in here complaining that a hooker didn't give him the blowjob he paid for. Then there's that guy right over there in the cuffs. The black kid. This joker actually walked in here

until she came eye to eye with the aforementioned bearded, 'black kid' that the mime spoke

as if he wanted to

tried to divert both her eyes and attention away from the man, but the more she twisted and squirmed in her seat, that was all the more she couldn't seem to escape

at least put me in a cell already." The mime grumbled. "I

the antsier and more uncomfortable Lynnette became, until after so long she couldn't bear it any longer.

lady?" The mime

past one busy officer after another. At that point, and after so much anarchy her brain had been reduced to mush. Isaiah

to the handcuffed man Lynnette couldn't help but to quickly

"Lynn!" Cloyse

stop. When she gazed down all she could see was Cloyse looking back up at her like

you?"

closer

backed away from the feverish man as though he had a disease. "Who are

as if he were about to cry. His face and clothes were saturated in sweat, while his bloodshot eyes gave the impression that he

only see a fraught, pathetic man before her who could have been high on the same kinds of drugs she had been indulging in for the past few months; his looks wouldn't have

"Please...let me out of here." He

you." Lynnette turned

your face

Lynnette once more stopped before turning back around and

moment before looking back up and saying, "You have seen Arthur and his

"Who," Lynnette clinched

two with

foot tapped so hard on the floor from fear that

you and what are you

dem. I have seen dem all of my life. Dey are here, in dis city.

have gotten any wider than they were at that painstaking instant. She heard the words coming

"I don't know you!" She

"Okay, fella, that'll do it for you." A male, white officer came up behind Cloyse and began to uncuff him from the

"No, no, I need to

"Lady, I have to get this guy to a cell, pronto." The officer