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.

started to tremble all over again. "My...my mama said

the other two?" She then began

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

said there were three of them!" Lynnette

"Miss Glover, please try and

I don't know

I know exactly how you feel. I have two sons of my own." Barron said. "But in order for us to find your child, I

wiped her face clean before clasping her hands together as tight as possible. "I know one of them." She whimpered. "She

Writing on his pad, Barron asked, "Okay, what

of any other two." Lynnette tried to catch her breath. "My mother said that there were three of

gang?" Barron inquired. "We have been seeing a

few seconds before opening them and exhaling the warm air around her. The words she wanted and needed to say were right there on the very tip of her dry tongue, all she had to do

In a very calm voice, Lynnette explained, "I'm going to tell you something that you won't believe at first, but it needs to be

Officer Barron sat up close and personal to the young woman while not batting a single eyelash as he stared hard at

sound...real, but it's all I have. These

of the area. It was two men wrestling with

At once, everyone within the vicinity, from officers to victims and perps, stopped what they were doing and directed their attention at the melee which

as he shot up from

descended upon the two unruly men in order

up in all sorts of misery, from the spurts of profanity-laced mayhem clear on the other side of the room, to

that she hadn't seen in days was nowhere to be found, and just

a man's voice

until her eyes connected with the man

"What?" She cleared

his mime disguise casually remarked from his chair. "Drinking a warm cup of tea will

to gather herself, Lynnette sat up in her seat and wiped her misty eyes.

That is until a good friend told me

Appearing flabbergasted, Lynnette looked at the man and arrogantly said, "For you information, I am not

the man to stare at Lynnette's scarred up arms for her

"Look, I'm sorry your kid is missing, but the last thing you need is to be in here of all places shaking like a leaf. These cops see it every day. The cop that

hardest not to look at the man, who with his makeup only

mess over there." He nodded

the carnage that was still taking place in

people are so understaffed due to most of them walking the beat after this wild animal that's running loose." The man explained. "That's why I'm here now. No, I take 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 I know, I'm sitting here in a police station missing

good thing that you're sitting in here and not out there." Lynnette found the

you're

would end, Lynnette watched in silent comfort as

any of us can do to kill it." Her voice faltered. "I've seen

you've actually seen this animal before?" The mime

replied. "Ever since then...I know what the devil looks like. He either has

"You sound like

"No, I'm not, I just see people

that old, black lady over there?" He pointed. "She has a complaint about her neighbors' dogs that keep barking all night. Then you have that guy right there, the bald, 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 on his own volition a while ago. Apparently he's been running around town for the past few days harassing

came eye to eye

distressed manner possible, as if he wanted to reach out for her in the worst way, even though he was fifty or so feet apart from

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

at least put me in a cell already." The mime grumbled. "I can't take this sitting a second

The more time passed that was the antsier and more uncomfortable Lynnette became, until after so long she couldn't bear it any longer. She got up from out of her chair and

what about your missing kid, lady?" The mime tossed up

another. At that point, and after so much anarchy her brain had been reduced to mush.

handcuffed man Lynnette couldn't help

fell to the floor trying to stop. When she gazed down all she could see was Cloyse looking back up at her like a lost,

"Who...who are you?" She fumbled over her

closer

Lynnette only backed away from the feverish man as though he had a disease. "Who are you?" She started to shake all

cry. His face and clothes were

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 proven

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

"I don't know you." Lynnette turned

in your face dat you have seen

Lynnette once more stopped before turning back around and frowning, "Nigga, what are

head for a moment before looking back up and saying, "You have seen

"Who,"

"The two with de eyes," Cloyse

left foot tapped so hard on the floor from fear that she could

are you and what are

all of my life. Dey are here, in dis

wider than they were at that painstaking instant. She heard the words coming out of Cloyse's mouth, but she honestly couldn't believe

"I don't know you!" She yelled. "Who's

for you." A male, white officer came up behind Cloyse and began

"No, no, I need to speak with him!" Lynnette urged the

this guy to a cell, pronto." The