Curse of Remorse

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  She thanked them for letting her join and said she had some news to share. Joan was spooning her soup in when the spoon stopped in mid air on the way to her open mouth. She gently sat it back down in her bowl and waited for her to continue. She said, “I just hung up the phone from a guy down in New Orleans who says he can help us. At first I thought he wanted some money up front, but he said it was free and if she and the town wanted to hear what had to say, he could be in town by Thursday night. I could tell he was both educated and black, but color has no bearing on anything in my life and if he can help, then so be it. I told him to come at his convenience. Also, I would have a motel room come Thursday night. He rang off and I came here thinking I could catch you two having lunch together.”

  Roy continued his lunch and looked neither at his wife nor at the mayor, but kept his head down, taking care of a lunch that he never tasted. Joan on the other hand, perked up with some hope being thrown their way. She reached out and grabbed the mayor hand with a big thank you spoken.

  Joan in return told her about the meeting tonight at the church and Veronica readily agreed to be there. Her lunch was served and they all fell to eating as quickly as possible, thinking if they hurried, the night would be here faster. There is always comfort knowing you aren’t alone and with a meeting in the church with friends, what better place could one feel warm and comfortable.

  ***

  Up the road in Salem, in a café totally unfamiliar to Candice, the three Times crew was munching on a crab sandwich with clam chowder on the waterfront. The café had been recommended by Terry’s aunt and now they were discussing what had transpired meeting her at the state library. Meanwhile they were enjoying the best sandwich and chowder they had ever eaten.

  Candice felt like she was talking to herself as Dave and Wes were only interested in the food. Candice soon stopped talking and let her brain do the thinking, while she too, enjoyed the lunch. She thought that a wealth of information had been told to her and now she had to put it in a form of a story.

  As it turned out, Terry aunt was half Native American and her oral history spoke of such events hundreds of years ago. This was the first shock of the meeting and the next one was when she told them the translation was what followed her knowledge of the events back then. When she told them more of the story of her elders, she pointed to the fact that their own medicine man of ancient times had participated in the spell, but later he acknowledged that he had very little to do with it. The young girl stayed until she had an accident later in life. The black couple finally left them a few years after that night of the spell, which by the way she said, took more than twelve hours to complete. It started in the evening and lasted until morning. She went on to say that an animal had been used along with a powder that held a mix of tree bark, mushrooms and other things. Also a sack, or pouch, that the man and woman had tied to their waist held some unknown material. The story goes on to say that they mixed the unknown material from the pouch, the tree bark, and the mushrooms, then added the blood of the fresh killed animal. Over a camp fire, it was dropped into a bowl above the fire. It made the watchers scared as the smoke than came from the mixture, turned a rainbow of colors and a smell never forgotten. The chanting continued throughout the night and the same mixture dumped on the fire every few hours or so as I am told.

  During the meeting, Candice had been typing into her laptop. After she paused and looked up, at her speakers eyes, they were glazed and like she was somewhere else rather than in her office at library. That somewhere else was at a pow-wow back when she was a little girl in the company of her elders who were passing on an oral history to the young ones and old ones alike.

  Candice noticed she came back and then with a kindness said, “And that is about what I know of the association of the Native Americans and the witchcraft of generations gone by. One thing I will tell you is this, our people do not tell tall tales about things that are paranormal. Sure you have heard the coyote fables and so on but when it comes to passing down what happened eons ago, you can take it to the bank as white people say.”

  Candice thanked her and now back at the café, they made ready to depart back to town where a curse was running rampant against all reasonable thought. She knew she had a story from the beginning, but now she wondered where to go with it. She really needed to talk to her boss Jim and get his advice. While the boys went to the van to make ready to depart, she called her boss. He answered almost immediately and said “Yes, Candice. What can I do for you?”

  She thought he knew she would be calling and it kind of irritated her that he was so smug about it all, but then realized he was just being the boss. She said, “I’ve come to an impasse and need your help please.”

  “That’s why I am here and let hear your report please.” She went on telling him all that she heard from the librarian and of the recent activity in Remorse. He listened and then he said, “Let me get back to you later. I need to make a phone call or two and then let’s see where we go with this story.”

  Candice finished off and let it go as he wished. Now she went out the door and climbed in the passenger seat and back they went to what was coming next. Candice never dreamed that she was about to meet a real life voodoo man from Jamaica on Thursday night. However, when Wednesday came around, a sleeper caught the town off guard. A boy of twelve turning thirteen was discovered by his grandfather who never really knew when the grandson’s birthday really was. His daughter had dropped the kid off many years ago, He had guessed at his birthday, as the poor kid didn’t even have a birth certificate.

  Chapter 12

  Paul Cassidy was the boys name and he was just an average kid that no one would notice in a class room full of students. However, he was cherished by his grandfather as he was the only grandson he had. Ben Cassidy was going on seventy and his wife of almost fifty years passed away last spring. It was just him and boy now and he did his best to raise him right. Both he and his wife tried not to spoil Paul, and so far the boy had done well by all accounts in Ben’s book of life.

  Ben was a retired fisherman that had clung to his love of the ocean and catching the famous cod, he couldn’t part with the thought of ever doing anything else. He still had three fishing boats he leased out and on more than one occasion he would accompany the captains out to the fishing grounds of old. However, it was hard back in his time to make a decent living and under today’s ridged rules of catch, even harder yet. But with the sea smell in their clothes and body, fishermen knew how to economize in both the good years and bad. Whenever possible, the fishing boats headed out to sea for a day's fishing.

  That Wednesday morning changed everything in Ben’s life, not to mentioned his grandson Paul’s life. The boy woke up screaming his grandfather’s name, but Ben was a little hard of hearing and had his hearing aids sitting on the nightstand next to his bed. He was dreaming of fishing and someone calling his name telling him a big storm was coming. They needed to return to port. He scoffed at the report and told the man he needed to have his ears checked. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he still heard his name being called and when the door to his bedroom opened, he woke up with a start with the sight of his grandson calling out. He kept saying - “Gramps I can’t see and now I have what my school mates have.”

  There was no sleepiness in old Bens’ book. He was instantly awake and sitting on the edge of his bed looking at his grandson standing in the doorway, with his one hand on the old glass doorknob, and the other hand pointing at his eyes. The boy was calming down now. Ben put in his hearing aids. After a few seconds of adjustment, he was good to go and said, “Paul, don’t move and I’ll be right there.” He padded over the hardwood floor barefoot oblivious of the cold seeping through the floor.

  He took the boy in his big arms; Ben was no small guy. He had to bend down in most of his trips through the doorways. If he had on his slippers, he was usually fine, but if he had on shoes that one inch was enough to graze his still full head of silver hair. It didn’t take B
en long to put two and two together. He always had his ear to the street and town. Now he felt like he had just joined an elite club. The boy, he noticed was shaking in his arms and dry sobs were escaping his trembling lips. Ben repeatedly told Paul he was with him till the end. The boy quit sobbing and Ben led him to his big bed and both sat down with Ben’s arm around him.

  Now what the hell do I do, he thought. He looked at his beside phone and with an exasperated sigh, wondered who he would call in a case like this. Ben being a God fearing man, decided that once he had Paul relaxed and a good breakfast in him, he would call the Reverend Chris and inform him of what happened to his grandson Paul.

  Paul sat meekly at the kitchen table with his hands folded in his lap. His grandfather helped him dress in jeans and a sweatshirt with wool socks. Ben was fixing some breakfast and glancing out of the corner of his steely grey eyes under a hedge row of salt and pepper brow at his precious grandson. He never noticed the floor creaking and groaning under his two hundred and fifty pounds as he moved around from the refrigerator to the toaster.

  Paul’s ears heard the movement of his grandfather and his heavy breathing. The electric stove was on with the door open heating the kitchen. Some years back he had put in a forced air heating system, but as a frugal Old Norwegian, you’d best wear some warm clothes in the winter time while in the house. Now as Ben sat a stack of toast in front of Paul, he too sat down to help him eat. He buttered the toast and put strawberry jam on a piece and put it in his grandson’s hand. Paul was not hungry, but after a bite or two, wolfed it down and asked for more. Ben tried a bowl of cereal and after spilling a bit, Paul got the hang of it and soon breakfast was over.

  Reverend Chris answered the phone on the second ring from his usual place in the kitchen early in the morning. He was surprised that Ben Cassidy had rung him up, but after listening for two minutes sat up straight with his mouth hanging open. Nancy noticed his rapid movement while washing up the breakfast dishes and stopped what she was doing to listen to a one sided conversation.

  A few minutes later he hung up and looked at his wife, and at his daughter, who was still sitting waiting for a friend to come by and pick her up to walk to school. Chris said, “Ben Cassidy is coming over soon with his grandson Paul, who woke up with his eyelids grown together just like the Sara and the other kids. He told me Paul had some unusual circumstances that he would explain when he got here. Dear God, is this ever going to end?” Nancy and Sara both bowed their heads as if to say a prayer to young Paul and his well liked Grandfather Ben.

  By noon the news had spread like wildfire around town and the person stirring up the fire was none other than Mrs. Gorn who first heard it from Ed the Nose. Ed heard it from one of the regulars at the café and he had heard it from his wife who was volunteering at the school cafeteria. Ben had called the school to tell them about his grandson and from there the word spread quickly around town.

  Mrs. Gorn thought it was her hour to have the light of day fall on her to lead her group of women which went by the name of Remorse Sewing Circle, to lead a charge to the mayor’s office. She’d been encouraged by Ed to lean on the mayor for some answers. In reality, Ed needed some filler for a story he’d been working on, and as Candice seemed to cast him out of the loop, he decided to run with the Post and to other tabloids. The Post had sent a reporter up, but the reporter was staying in Salem and would see him later on this afternoon.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Gorn, salivating with the news of a new victim of a curse --Mrs. Gorn was convinced it was real witch craft-- that she intended to confront the pompous mayor in her office. It was no secret of her dislike of the mayor as she had run against her thinking with her life long experience and management in the hospital she was a shoe in for the vacant job. However, Veronica Blades simply knew how to campaign and swayed the voters to her position. Even with the help of Ed as her campaign manager didn’t help much. If you would ask a town person why Mrs. Gorn failed in her bid for the mayor’s job, they might say she was just plain ornery and way too full of herself to manage a town. Opinion was divided, but in the end Mrs. Gorn was a poor loser.

  Now as she gathered her troops for battle, Mrs. Gorn got dressed for the occasion. She stood in her bedroom wondering what to wear. She decided long handles were needed and over that she would wear a pair of jeans. After getting dressed with jeans and a plaid long sleeve men’s shirt, she looked into the mirror on the front of her closet door. What she saw and what other would have seen are two very different things. She saw a stocky woman in late middle age. Someone else would have seen an old woman who looked like a farmer who just came in from milking the cows. She saw an intelligent face with warmth and friendship staring back at her. Others saw her as a busy body or a, know - it - all looking for attention. She saw a tender hearted spinster who always shared what she had. Most would say she was tight fisted and always had an excuse for not paying for coffee at the café.

  Regardless, she was trouble with a big ‘T’ and with both barrels loaded, headed out the door to rendezvous with the girls at the local Senior Center for lunch, and then over to the Town Hall to torment the mayor.

  ***

  Ben and his grandson Paul arrived at Chris’s house at nine am. Ben was polite enough to know not to arrive too early and to let folks prepare for a guest to arrive. Chris met them at the door and as usual Chris was amazed at how big Ben really was. He shook his hand, but Ben knew his own strength so was careful with the hand shake. Both Paul and Ben took off their boots and coats. Chris noticed, while taking their coats that Paul looked down and not up as a blind person would. Of course Chris had seen them many times in church, but really never looked closely at Paul. He had dirty blonde hair cut fairly short and was slight of build. Chris regretted not knowing more about the kid, but nothing came to his mind.

  Chris led them to the kitchen where Joan had some freshly made peanut butter cookies made. The smell made Paul perk up and as he was sat down in a chair he was told and a warm hand showed him the glass of milk and warm cookies. For Ben fresh coffee was sat in front of him as was sugar and milk for his coffee if needed. Ben, as he looked around the kitchen, was saddened by the fact he was alone in his house now and no cookies were ever baked since his wife passed on. A slight watering of the eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Nancy as she felt his hurt too. Ben looked up at the ceiling as if to keep the tears from running down his cheeks. Nancy broke the silence and said to Paul, “How are you doing Paul?”

  “I am doing ok. I am not alone is this situation and my grandpa will take care of me.” Nancy was a little impressed as he sounded so grown up and well mannered. He added, “How is Sara doing with this blindness? I see her at school, but we are in different grades so don’t talk to each other.”

  Chris said to Ben, “Ben how can we help you and Paul? We have a meeting tonight and would like the both of you to be there, if you can. We’re trying to get some organization in our plight and tonight we’re trying to formulate a plan. What the plan is, I’ve not any idea, but we’ll see what transpires.”

  Ben nodded his big head and through his thin lips said, “We will be there and we must find a way out of this mess. I’ll do anything in my power to get at the root cause of this predicament we are in. Meanwhile, do you think Paul here should go to school or stay home with me? I see that your daughter is off to school and frankly speaking, I’ve not discussed this with Paul at all.”

  Paul spoke first and said, “I want to go to school, but I don’t have many friends there. As a matter of fact, I don’t have any friends at school. I am considered a nobody and a book worm.” Nancy with coffee in hand and leaning against the counter noticed Paul didn’t sound as if someone should pity him, but stating a fact without sounding sad.

  Chris felt his hurt and Ben, through clenched teeth and with his large hands wrapped around the coffee mug, felt the mug would shatter into a thousand pieces hearing what his grandson said about school. Then Ben appeared to relax and said, “I have a story to tell and i
f you fine folks will permit me, or indulge me, let me speak about the unspeakable that was told to me by my grandfather too many years ago to think about. He sat us kids down and told us the story I am speaking of now.” He looked around and Nancy nodded her head and sat down at the table for four next to her husband. Paul was still munching slowly on a cookie as his grandfather took a sip of coffee.

  Ben began, “My family was among the original ones that came from across the Atlantic to the shores of the New World. Our family were fishermen first and Norwegians second. As I understand it my great-great grandfather had it in his head that this New World was an opportunity to not be missed so over he came. Salem is where he settled and soon he was working hard at fishing and marketing the catch. Now you pretty much know the rest of the story, but this part you don’t know about. His oldest daughter was caught up in the witch hunt we all so well know about. She was one of the nineteen that were hanged for witchcraft. My grandfather told us that it was a true story and that for some unknown reason; she went a bit crazy and wandered the woods talking to the trees. She collected bugs of all sorts and small animals including frogs. She stored these things in a small outbuilding and could be found there talking to these things and using candles to burn the bugs. When she was confronted by her parents and word had gotten around, she bared her teeth and told them to leave her alone or they would suffer some unforeseen calamity never witnessed before. Well, the missionary that was there witnessed some of this and it wasn’t long before they had her locked up in a small shed accused of witchcraft.