The Curse of 1977 (Book 2)

Chapter 34

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.

"Who were the other two?" She then

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

them!" Lynnette sobbed loud enough for everyone

"Miss Glover, please

"But I don't know who the other two

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

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

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

know of any other 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

warm air around her. The words she wanted and needed to say

to tell you something that you won't believe at first,

up close and personal to the young woman while not batting a single eyelash as he

you won't sound...real, but it's all I

moment, a loud commotion erupted from clear on the other side of the area. It was two men wrestling with

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 floor, making it

shot

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

profanity-laced mayhem clear on the other side of the room, to her own son; no matter what, the woman could not catch a

She couldn't believe that he was gone. The same child that she hadn't seen in days was nowhere

a man's

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

"What?" She

mime disguise casually remarked

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

That is until

Appearing flabbergasted, Lynnette looked at the man and arrogantly said, "For you information, I am

stare at Lynnette's scarred up arms

need is to be in here of all places shaking like a leaf. These cops see it every day. The

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

mess

Lynnette slightly turned her head to view the carnage that was still taking place in

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

thing that you're sitting in here

"Maybe you're right." The man

Lynnette watched in silent

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

a minute, you've actually

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

sound like a poet." The

just see people for who they really

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

came eye to eye

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

Lynnette tried to divert both her eyes and attention away from the man, but the more she twisted and squirmed in

I wish they would hurry and at least put me in a

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

lady?"

and after so much anarchy

she came closer to the handcuffed man Lynnette couldn't help but to quickly glance at him on

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

"Who...who are you?"

his chair closer

feverish man as though he had

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

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;

"Please...let me

Lynnette turned

your face

turning back around and frowning, "Nigga, what

before looking back up

"Who," Lynnette clinched her

"The two with de eyes," Cloyse

Lynnette's left foot tapped so hard on the floor from

are you and what are

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

couldn't have gotten any wider than they were at that painstaking instant. She

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

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

need to speak

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

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