Curse of Remorse

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Dr. Sweet had a previous engagement so couldn’t make it, but Dr. Choi would fill him in later. As Reverend Chris thought all were present and accounted for, a knock on the door and Sam Splicer had a contraption on a dolly making his way in with a deputy carrying a five gallon can of fuel. It was a kerosene burner and with a big smile Sam wheeled it to the front of the pulpit and sat it down gently. Most in the church were curious as to what it was as having never seen one before. However in five minutes you could feel the heat coming from it. Chief Sam was given a standing ovation and he bowed to the townspeople and left with a good cheer and a good luck with the meeting.

  Reverend Chris took the leading role and said, once it quieted down and everyone had moved a few pews around to keep warm by the heater, “Let’s take this one at a time and the main topic I think is the guy coming to our town from New Orleans. I really don’t know what to make of it and how to address the issue of this being a curse with connections to the Jamaican voodoo ritual. I’d like to pass on this topic and let Roy along with any others that might have an idea or two.”

  Roy stood up and was prepared for the discussion about the man coming. He said, “I’ve accepted that we are faced with a paranormal force and if it requires an expert in that area of voodoo, then we must offer our best hospitality to him. As you know my son Glen and his friend Terry, along with his aunt have done a lot of research into this event and I for one don’t think medical science is going to help in this case. Joan and I feel this man wouldn’t be coming here if he didn’t think he could help. My son has done a bit of checking on this guy and he’s almost ninety years old and a retired history professor. He’s published some books on Jamaican black magic and it appears he is an authority in that field. Is there anyone else that would like to comment on this topic?”

  No one commented or jumped right up and Roy noticed old Ben Cassidy prepare to rise to the occasion. Ben said, “If I may I’d like to say something.” He walked spryly to the front of the pulpit and Roy sat down next to his wife. Ben looked around and said, “It appears we don’t have a lot of options and if you’ll forgive me, it’s a bit like fishing. If there are no fish in the area you are fishing in, move locations and give it a try. I for one would walk across the Sahara Desert to find a way to cure my grandson and others who are like him: Blind.”

  The church was void of any sounds except the heater burning and the only smell was of kerosene, as Ben made his way back to his seat next to his grandson.

  Veronica stood up and slowly made her way to the front of the church and after looking at all who were there, like the politician she was and then said, “I speak as a mother tonight and will go along with practically anything to see something done to cure our kids of what ails them. As you know there’re no motel rooms available and in the back of our city hall we have an old infirmary with a bed and shower. The man coming is welcome to that room for his stay unless someone has a better idea. Now having said that, I want to say that let’s give this man every thing he desires to fulfill his needs.”

  And with that said, Veronica sat back down and Candice gave a look around and Chris nodded for her to speak if she so desired. Candice took the opportunity and walked up to the pulpit and stood in front of it. She took a deep breath and said, “My paper and I are here to report the facts and remember this, and our paper has vast resources at its disposal, so if anything is needed, please let me know. We are not insensitive and my boss says we need to all work together to find an answer to this mysterious malady. If weather permits and if we need a helicopter or any other means of travel, then we have that option.

  Candice took her leave amid a smattering of applause and sat down. The last one to speak was Nancy and she walked up to the pulpit with her head held high. Nancy began by saying, “Thank you for all coming and gathering here tonight to share what has become a nightmare without much hope, but we must have faith. Sorry, but this is the house of God and we must have faith that a cure will be found for our kids and a cure to end what might happen to our community in the future. I prefer to trust in medical science and my God for any solution to any problem we face as mere humans. Of course there are many things we don’t understand and this appears one of them. I will pray that this man coming will help us all and if it is God’s will then we will overcome all that face us.”

  Her husband stood up and gave his wife a standing ovation and the rest of them followed suit. The only person, other than the kids, was Veronica’s husband Stan. He, for the most part, was a quiet introvert and most around town never figured out why the two opposites were together in the first place. None could say he was not a family man, quite the contrary; he was always shooting hoops with his boy Brian and doing outdoor kind of things with the family when time permitted.

  He was a nice looking man in his early forties with coal black hair with a touch of grey at the temples and dark skin. No one doubted where the boy got his good looks from. He was tall and slightly on the thin side. He was a stay at home dad doing business on the computer it was said. But what kind of business, no one knew and Veronica just shrugged her shoulders saying he was a business man and not sure what he did, but he was a good provider and husband.

  Without any warning, as Chris was about to take the stage, Stan stood up and said he wanted to say something if it was fine with the other good folks. Chris smiled and said he was welcome and to come up please.

  Stan walked with a purpose; Candice noticed and was anxious to hear what this man had to say. In an indescribable voice, so smooth and polished he said, “Most of you don’t really know me as I’m a bit shy to meet people. What I have to say will not take long and hope you will bear with me while I tell a short story. I’m both a writer and a businessman. I work on the computer most of the time with some trips for research on my books, which by the way are academic and not fiction. I was at a seminar one time a few years back when a man asked where I lived and I told him near Salem. He was most curious about the history of the Witches of Salem. I told him I was not very well versed in that subject and only knew what local history touted. Anyway, to make a long story short, he made me curious and I delved into the history and have written a book but under a pen name. It’s not as of this time on the market and won’t be until fall is my best guess from what my publishers have told me. What I can tell you is there is some real truth to the fact there are curses out there and yes, it does stem from Haiti and Jamaica voodoo. I know about this man in New Orleans and he and I have spent many hours on the phone and computer talking. I’ve been to see him on more than one occasion and he knows where I am located. You can trust this man. He has a gift and if anyone can help, he can. That’s all I have at the present time. Good luck to us all.”

  He had stunned the group and all rose when he walked back to his wife and son as if he were a prophet or an oracle of sorts. Candice was taking notes and the only one sitting down. Chris walked over and shook his hand and then the other men there did the same as they made a circle around him smiling. Even old Ben made himself known to the man, even though he towered over him, he was, as Joan noticed, a little in awe.

  The meeting broke up and all went home a little happier than when they arrived. Some hope and faith went with them out the door of the little church in Remorse that night. It had even stopped snowing and the stars were out.

  With a warm wood stove that instead of logs or firewood burning it was a pellet stove from waste wood products. It was much more efficient, but not so inexpensive to operate. Chris was frugal, but made his family comfortable during the winter time. As he adjusted the stove, he thought about what his wife had said and how she came out of her shell and said what was on her mind. Sometimes a crisis brings out the hidden qualities of a person. He was proud of her and reminded himself to tell her later in the private confines of their bedroom.

  Chapter 14

  Peter Fleck took a deep breath to prepare his body for the shock about to descend upon him from the bone numbing cold of a New England winte
r, as he exited the Boston Logan International Airport. Coming from New Orleans and having lived in the Deep South his entire life, the retired Sociology professor, with his short curly white hair, felt the chill of the cold to his toes. He still possessed a full head of hair, but no doubt it was thinning a bit. He also possessed a trim and healthy body from his daily workout at his alma mater. Peter overall, other than his dark skin, was unobtrusive in his appearance and personality. Indeed a deep strong voice resonated, but didn’t grate on the receptors, but held the promise of knowledge and wisdom.

  His companion and secretary pushed the baggage cart ahead of him while Peter looked at his watch. It was shortly after five and dark was rapidly invading the light of day. Snow was drifting and swirling around the passenger pickup area and the passing vehicles depicted the time of year.

  Peter was more than happy he had found some nice sheep skinned lined leather gloves for his slightly arthritic hands. He fastened the top most button of his heavy wool overcoat that reached down to mid calf.

  His secretary, James T. Spalding said, with a pronounced southern accent, “Mr. Fleck, you were correct as usual about the deplorable weather conditions here in Boston.” Peter smiled revealing even white teeth, enhanced by his brown skin, which for his advanced age, held few wrinkles other than the smile creases, and made no reply.

  Just then a SUV pulled up with the police markings of Remorse City Police barely showing through the packed snow on its sides and hood. Sam got out, and with his usual jovial personality, held out his gloved hand to the man who stood beside the baggage cart. He assumed right as Peter responded to his “Welcome to New England. My name is Sam Splicer and I presume you are Dr. Peter Fleck?”

  “Yes, I am,” Sam heard a deep voice without the expected southern drawl. After shaking hands, Peter turned and said, “This is my companion and secretary Mr. James T. Spalding,” reaching a long arm out to rest on James shoulder. Sam shook James hand and heard Peter say, “Please call me Peter and my friend here goes by James T.”

  Sam’s eyes traveled back and forth between the two men and thought they could be brothers. Not in the colored sense, but it was a bit shocking that they both looked similar and even dressed the same. What Sam didn’t know was that both men had been outfitted by overnight mail by a well know east coast clothing company.

  Sam walked around the back of the SUV and opened the back end. James handed him their luggage and he noticed one trunk in addition to their bags. Sam said, “Well gentlemen shall we go?” As Sam got in he wondered what was in a trunk that was full of stickers like in the olden days of ship and train travel. Then it hit him the name of the trunk: Steamer trunk. He rubbed his shoulder as it had taken both him and James T. to load the heavy trunk into the car.

  Meanwhile, Peter had climbed in the passenger side and took off his gloves as the heater was providing nice warm air. He left his overcoat on and as all in Remorse were to discover, Peter and James T. seldom took off their overcoats.

  Driving south, Sam tried a few times to engage Peter in a conversation. However, even though Peter responded politely each time, but a conversation never really developed as Peter was in deep thought about what lie ahead. Sam thought maybe they were just tired and the weather was not to their liking. They rode along in silence with the light snow blowing in all directions with no need for wipers. The traffic was sparse once outside of Boston proper and Sam was a little surprised when Peter asked what his take on the current event in town?

  Sam, ever ready to show the professor he was no hick town police chief, putted up his chest a bit, squirmed in his seat as if some ants were in his pants and poured forth his rendition of the events as they unfolded from the first to the last, and the ones to come, if it were to happen as before. He emphasized that the coming one was the son of the town’s Mayor having his birthday tomorrow.

  Sam occasionally glanced over but Peter’s eyes were staring straight ahead and apparently mesmerized by the snow swirling in the headlights. Peter broke his reverie and asked, “To your knowledge Sam, “have there ever been any unexplained phenomena in your area or surrounding counties?”

  Sam realized he was being asked a serious question and not to report some third hand rumors that floated above the local tavern or coffee shop. He reached up with one hand and rubbed his forehead thinking he was massaging his frontal cortex to draw forth an intelligent response. Peter with more patience than most folks returned to look out the window waiting for Sam to respond.

  Peter’s head turned slowly back to look at Sam and Sam returned the look. Both saw warmth and wisdom emanating from the eye contact. Sam said, “I can’t think of any stories that have weathered the time since the original events in Salem concerning the witches. However, Peter, there are a few old timers that when the subject of some black magic or witches comes up, they seem to withdraw into themselves and not say a word. I’ve some suspicion that they are holding something back, but that is only the policeman in me. It would seem that as far back as I can remember, I’ve been overly curious and it would seem people would rather lie than tell the truth these days.”

  “Peter said, “If you have the time Sam, I would like to visit with some of, as you say, old timers.”

  “I’ll make time and I am sure our town’s people would like to see some closure on this bizarre event we are facing.”

  They rode the rest of the way to Remorse mostly in silence and when Sam pulled into town the lights of his office were blazing away. Waiting inside were the mayor and the parents of the afflicted kids. To Sam he felt rather bad that once inside they would all look to Peter anxiously awaiting some profound words to flow from his wise lips. As he helped Peter out of the car, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to note the man was very old and moved rather slowly. However, by the time they walked up the few steps and into City Hall, it appeared to have regained some energy. Sam introduced him and his companion and as luck would have it, the mayor directed the traffic to the meeting room where all could sit in comfort.

  They mayor asked for their attention and then said, “We know it’s been a long and tiring trip so we will make this brief so you can take a rest. The accommodations leave a bit to be desired, but after tonight we will find you a more comfortable place to stay. But in the meantime we have a large room in the back of this building that will suffice for the night.” Turning her attention to Dr. Fleck she said, “If it’s not presumptuous of me to ask, would you care to make a few comments or maybe we can answer some of your immediate questions?”

  Peter responded and said, “If you don’t mind, I will not stand up but yes, I’ll make a few comments and I’d like to ask a few questions. Don’t worry about the accommodations as we’re both used to roughing it. First I would like to know if there have been any new cases since yesterday or today. Also, are there any new birthdays coming and how soon will we be able to gather the kids so I can meet them?”

  The mayor updated the recent case of Paul Cassidy and the birthday of her son at midnight tonight. After that there were no birthdays until February. She went on to tell him that a meeting can be arranged and would it be alright to hold the meeting at the local school?

  Peter said, “Yes, that would be fine and tomorrow would be fine with me.” The mayor glanced around the room and all heads nodded in affirmation of a meeting tomorrow at school.

  Peter cleared his throat and said, “There is no need of me going over what has transpired here in your town to your kids. The goal is to right a wrong and that will not be an easy thing to do. This black magic has hundreds of years behind it and to break a spell will take all of our mental and physical strength as a group to remove the curse. I can tell you there is no guarantee for us, a mere common person, taking on a craft that defies an ordinary belief in a natural order of things. I’ll wrap this up by saying that we must be prepared to take a trip to the woods, preferably near where the Indian village was located, if possible, and recreate what happened on that fateful night. Maybe recreate is not
the right word to use, but we need to feel what vis-à-vis necromancy is there. Now I would appreciate taking a rest as I am usually an early to bed, early to raise person.”

  After they were settled into their room all sat around the table talking about what had transpired. Most were in a confused state and when Stan asked to be heard, all looked to him, as Peter’s friend, to speak with some pearls of wisdom to set some minds at ease. He said, “I agree with Peter that this is not a sure thing, but with the proper mind set and setting it’s entirely possible to reverse the curse. We will need some serious power of the minds collectively to succeed in our task.”

  Veronica said, “Now let’s all go home and get a good night's rest. I am anxious to be home when the clock strikes midnight to see if my son is among the newly afflicted kids.”

  Chapter 15

  Peter Fleck and his companion both woke up at the same time as their usual routine back home day began. It was still dark out, but daylight would soon come. Without a word to each other, Peter took the first in the bathroom while James T organized their belongings. A desk was available and the first thing he did was set up the laptop. Then while he heard the shower running, set out Peter’s clothes for the day. Just off the bedroom sat a small kitchen with a gas burner stove and on the small counter sat two mugs, tea and instant coffee. Alongside the stove sat a toaster with a fresh loaf of whole wheat bread, but the last thing they heard last night, they would take their breakfast at the local café.

  James boiled some water and while it was getting hot, he found a small closet to hang a few of their things in. Both were used to roughing it and neither one made mention of their accommodations, just accepted what they were provided.