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.

all over again. "My...my mama said that there were three?" She turned

the other two?" She then began to

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

were three of them!" Lynnette sobbed loud enough for everyone

Glover, please try and

"But I don't

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

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 time I saw

his pad, Barron asked, "Okay, what about the other

her breath. "My mother said that there were three of them,

woman could be part of a gang?" Barron inquired. "We have been

Lynnette shut her eyes for 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

explained, "I'm going to tell you something that you won't believe at first,

young woman while not batting a single eyelash as he stared hard

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

from clear on the other side of the area. It was two

everyone within the vicinity, from officers to victims and perps, stopped what they were doing and directed their attention at the melee which began sprawling all onto the

excuse me!" Barron breathlessly stated as he shot up from

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

the room, to her own son; no matter what, the woman could not catch a simple breath. She had spent months ignoring Isaiah to

All 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

a man's voice suddenly

all around until her eyes connected with the man seated only three feet to her right

"What?" She cleared

young man in his mime disguise casually remarked from his chair. "Drinking a warm cup of tea

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

until a good friend told me about the wonderful

man and arrogantly

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

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

at that mess over there." He nodded his

her head to view the carnage that was still taking place in the middle of the

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

"Maybe it's a good thing that you're sitting in here and not out

you're

Sitting in her cozy chair with her arms wrapped around her body in the hopes that her shakes would end, Lynnette watched in silent comfort as the officers eventually brought the

out there, and there's nothing any of us can do to

you've actually seen this animal before?" The

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

sound like a poet." The

just see

"Yeah, so do I." The man began to rub off the white paint from his face. "I've been cooped up inside this station for the past three hours, and in those three hours I've had the opportunity to see all sorts of characters besides myself." He indignantly stated. "You see 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 people. The cops have been searching for him ever since Henderson's speech the other day. Then suddenly he stumbles up in here looking for someone himself. What luck? Yep, the police station seems

she came eye to eye with the

back at Lynnette in the most distressed manner possible, as if he wanted to reach out

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 can't take this sitting a second

the antsier and more uncomfortable Lynnette became, until after so long

lady?" The mime tossed up

point, and after so much anarchy her brain had been reduced to mush. Isaiah was still fresh in her heart, but Lynnette desired to

couldn't help but to

"Lynn!" Cloyse

the floor trying to stop. When she gazed down all she could see was Cloyse looking back up

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

his chair closer to her, Cloyse gasped, "You are

only backed away from the feverish man as though he

cry. His face and clothes were saturated in sweat, while

a fraught, pathetic man before her who could have been high on the

"Please...let me out of

"I don't know you." Lynnette turned up her nose before pulling away from

can see in your face dat you have seen

turning

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

"Who," Lynnette

two

foot tapped so hard on the floor from fear that she could hardly even stand in

you and what

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

they were at that painstaking instant. She heard the words

"I don't know you!"

it for you." A male, white officer came up behind Cloyse and began to uncuff him

to speak with him!" Lynnette urged

this guy to a cell, pronto." The