by Donna Cain
Darren’s eyes widened in partial understanding. “You mean it wasn’t just a brain hemorrhage. That something caused him to have it? And caused Heather’s death and whatever it was that got Hansen?”
She nodded, still holding his hands. “That’s right. We’ve tracked down a reason that this has happened. It’s not something that I would ever have believed possible. But it is, Darren. And it’s happening here now.”
He dropped her hands and started pacing the small dining room. “Who’s we? Who told you about this?”
“At first it was Bug. You know how smart she is, how she notices things that most of us don’t. She thought there was probably a connection between the three deaths. It was just too coincidental for three people who lived so close to one another to die so suddenly. She witnessed Hansen die. She knew something was off by what she saw that day. She also was curious because she was there with Hunter and Eli when they found, well, the bulldozer. She noticed something that day as well.”
“What? What is it?” Darren looked tired and worried. Shasta hated doing this to him, but his family had the right to know everything she knew.
“Darren, it’s kind of an involved story. And I think you both deserve to know all of the facts. Do you think we could get your mom, and we could just go sit down and talk?”
For a moment he looked unsure, not wanting to cause his mother any more grief, but then, his mind made up, he gave her a little grin and said, “You’re right. She deserves to know everything there is to know. It might even help if she has some answers. Go on into the living room and I’ll get her.”
Shasta’s stomach was still in knots. Facing Darren was hard enough, but how could she tell Agnes? She had always been so nice to Shasta. The last thing she wanted to do was to give her more pain.
She sat down on one end of the sofa in the living room. She could hear Darren’s voice in the back of the house talking to Agnes. After a couple more minutes, they both showed up. When Agnes saw Shasta, she crossed the room and gave the girl a weak, little hug.
“Shasta, it’s always so good to see you. Darren says you’ve brought us a movie.” She was trying to sound perky, but it wasn’t working at all.
“Hi, Mrs. Jackson.” Shasta returned the hug. “I did bring us something to watch. But there’s something I need to talk to you about first.”
She was on alert immediately. Agnes’ emotions had been on a hair-pin trigger ever since last Friday. Her eyes were wide as she asked, “What’s happened? What’s happened now? Is it someone else?”
Trying to calm her as quickly as possible, Shasta said, “No, nothing has happened to anyone else that I know of. It’s just that there’s some new information that I wanted to share with you both.”
It was Agnes’s turn to look confused. Darren went to his mother and guided her to the comfy blue chair across from the couch. “It’s okay, Mom, Shasta has some news about what may have caused Dad’s brain hemorrhage, and Heather and Hansen too. They all might be related.”
Agnes was calming down but more confused than ever. She had never once contemplated that the three deaths were connected. To her, those other two were just really sad things that had happened after her world had collapsed. She could vaguely remember talking to Lara on the phone and trying to console her. She hadn’t talked to anyone from the Reynolds family. They didn’t know each other well, and Agnes just hadn’t had it in her to make any more calls. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t thought of those other two deaths at all. Her thoughts were only on Claymont. And now Shasta was saying that they might all be related somehow?
She settled herself in the blue chair and looked across the room at Shasta. Agnes knew the girl was no drama queen. She was smart and mature. She had been almost a member of their family for years. If she was bringing them information about her husband’s death, Agnes was sure that it was reliable.
“Tell us what you know, Shasta. Don’t leave anything out.” Darren could tell that his mother could handle hearing the news.
Shasta took a deep breath and began with what she had already told Darren. “So, Mrs. Jackson, after Mr. Jackson died, everyone just accepted that he’d had a brain hemorrhage. That seemed to be the case until Heather and Hansen died. You know Bug across the street? The girl I sit for? Well she’s extremely smart. She’s curious, too, and she was with the boys when they found Mr. Jackson. She also witnessed Hansen die when she was looking out her window. There were a couple of things she noticed that made her question whether the deaths were related. When someone told her about Heather, she was sure that they were.” She shifted herself on the couch a little bit and continued.
“Bug had noticed that Hunter and Eli had a box with them at the construction site, a box they hadn’t had going into the woods. That made her curious. The other curious thing was when Hansen died. He had yanked Hunter’s backpack off of him and had taken out a chunk of rock from the pack when he started to have his attack. We found out later that the same rock had been near Heather when she died.”
Darren interjected here. “What could a rock have to do with brain hemorrhaging?”
“That’s what Bug wanted to know, so she told me that she wanted to research other deaths from around here and see if anything added up. We went to the newspaper’s archives and searched for hours for any mysterious deaths that had happened in close succession. Finally, we found four from back in nineteen sixty-eight. We also found that a man had gotten off of a ship that had lost a lot of crew members to a mysterious virus. We kept checking and were able to place the man at each of the four deaths.”
“Who was this man? Did he kill these people?” Agnes was very interested, and much calmer. Her mind was focused on something more than her grief.
“No,” Shasta said. “He didn’t kill them, but what he had with him did. His name is Professor Preston Monroe. He studied legends and myths and taught a class on them at the State College in Chester. One of the legends that he studied made him curious enough to quit his job and go on a fact finding mission so he could write a book.” Shasta stopped there and reached for her bag. Before she had driven to Hot Slice! she had stopped at Hunter’s house to retrieve the book that the professor had given to her. She handed the book to Darren. “This isn’t the book that he wrote. This is the book that started his curiosity and set him off on his quest. Read Chapter fourteen, Darren.”
Darren looked the book over before opening it to the table of contents. “The Rock Of Varuupi?” He looked up at Shasta, and she nodded.
Agnes was motionless as Darren read the chapter about Chief Maalini, Thuuni, and the curse. As Darren read the last piece of information about the fifteen archaeologists who died while on the island of Shaali, his eyes grew wider. He stopped reading and looked up at his mother.
Agnes was still. She looked resigned. Finally, she spoke. “This curse – the rock that has the curse. Are you saying that somehow this rock found its way here to Hallston? How is that possible?”
Shasta told them of her meeting with Professor Monroe. She told them the story that he had told her and Bug that morning. How, by the time he had gotten off the ship, he knew what he had in his possession – how he made his way to Hallston with people dying along the way. They watched her as she spoke, but Shasta wasn’t certain if they really believed all she was saying.
“So that’s how he made it to the woods and buried the box. Mr. Jackson inadvertently dug it up while he worked, and Hunter and Eli brought it home. They were thinking that there was something exciting inside. There is one more thing about the professor, though. He’s blind. He was struck blind within hours of burying the rock. The curse touched him as well.” She stopped talking and waited.
Darren spoke first. “Where is it now? The rock?”
“After meeting with the professor, Bug and I went to Hunter’s and talked to him and Eli. They have it stored in the shed behind Hunter’s house. The plan is, tomorrow after school, they’re going to talk to Mr. Just to see if it can be dissolved using
some chemical composition. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go straight to Sheriff Buchanon.”
“Why not go to the sheriff now, Shasta?” Agnes asked. “Now I’m not sure about many things, but one thing I know is that you don’t mess with any type of voodoo or black magic. If that’s what’s really going on here, why leave it for a few kids to take care of? Let the authorities take it over. That’s what they’re there for.”
“Well, you’re right. But the thing is, that curse is so strong that it killed Hansen within minutes of him touching it. It affects different people in different ways. What if we handed it over to someone like the sheriff only to see it kill him, too? Right now, we think it’s just safer if no one else gets near it.” Shasta was still questioning that decision.
Looking more peaceful than she had in days, Agnes eased back in her chair. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “You know, I had an old great-aunt who lived way south of here. She used to scare the devil out of my sisters and me with her stories of voodoo and dark magic. My sister Shelley said the stories weren’t true, but I believed them. I believed every one of them. If my Claymont unearthed some cursed box, I believe that too. It makes more sense in my mind than my healthy fifty-one year old husband suddenly contracting some kind of brain problem.” She looked up at Darren and Shasta and said, “You know that autopsy wasn’t conclusive. That’s what’s been bothering me this whole time. The autopsy report said that there was more blood loss than normal with a brain hemorrhage. That means it could have been something else. Things just didn’t add up for me, and, as crazy as a cursed rock sounds, it makes more sense.”
Almost dreamlike, Agnes rose from her chair and started slowly walking toward the door to the living room. “I’m going to sleep now, I’m awfully tired.”
Darren and Shasta watched her leave. Then Shasta said, “Do you think she’s okay? She’s acting a little strange.”
He replied, “I think she’s exhausted. And this explanation gives her more answers than anything else. I’ll check on her in a little while.” He looked at her then. “Do you really believe this? A curse? It’s kind of out there.”
Shasta thought a moment and said, “Yeah, I do. It sounds a little far-fetched coming out of the blue like this I bet. But when you read the documentation and see the newspaper articles, it’s more believable. The big thing, Darren, was meeting with the professor this morning. He even looks like someone who’s been cursed. I totally believed everything he said. He’s lived the majority of his life knowing that he is responsible for all of those deaths, all because he brought a relic home from an island in the South Pacific. It’s haunted him his whole life. Now, knowing that he’s responsible for your dad, Heather and Hansen, he must be in a living hell.”
Darren wanted to say, “Good, he deserves to be in hell,” but he was just too tired. He laid his head on her shoulder and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Can you stay a while?”
Shasta laid her head on top of Darren’s and answered, “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
“Well, I’ll need you forever. Can you handle that?”
She smiled, and thought how strange it was that she could feel such happiness in the midst of all the challenges they were facing.
“Just try and stop me,” she said.
CHAPTER 25
Bug
It had seemed silly for Shasta to drive Bug home after talking to Eli and Hunter. After all, she just lived next door. Nevertheless, the girls had gotten into Shasta’s truck and backed out of the Massey’s driveway. Shasta pulled up in front of Bug’s house next door and parked.
“Are you okay, Bug?” She asked. The day had been long and filled with all kinds of information that people usually didn’t hear. She was worried about how all of it was affecting Bug.
Bug was looking past Shasta to her house. “I’m fine. I need to tell my dad, though. He’ll know what to do, and I’ll feel better once he knows.”
“Okay, then. I’ll talk to you soon. If you need me tonight, I’ll be at the Jackson’s.” She leaned over and gave her little friend a hug. “Try not to worry. We’ll sort all of this out.”
Bug hugged her back. She loved Shasta. To Bug, Shasta represented security, strength and acceptance. She could tell her anything and know that Shasta would not only listen, but not judge, ridicule or tease her. That in itself was remarkable, but it was also out of love. They had become as close as sisters.
Bug jumped from Shasta’s truck and walked up her driveway. She could smell dinner cooking as she stepped into the kitchen. Spaghetti? No, baked ravioli, super yummy! Bug’s tummy rumbled as she closed the side door.
Her mother was taking the bread out of the oven. She smiled at her and said, “Hi, Sweetie! Did you have a good day with Shasta?”
Bug put her bag down on the kitchen counter and sat down on one of the stools. “Yeah, we had a productive day.”
“Well what did you girls get into today? The library, a little shopping?” Ann Hamilton cut the hot bread into slices and started to spread butter on them.
“We actually did some research on some curses and how they may still be affecting people today. Where’s Dad?”
Mrs. Hamilton got the parmesan cheese from the fridge and started to sprinkle the hot, buttered slices of bread. “I think he’s in the living room watching the news. I was about to call him for dinner. Why don’t you go wash up and get him for me. I’ll set the table.”
“Okay.” Bug slid from the high stool and walked to the bathroom to wash her hands. She was trying to figure out just how to start the conversation with her dad. She decided not to do it before dinner. There was no use wasting a good meal, like baked ravioli, with bad news. She would wait until afterward.
She wiped her hands dry and went in search of her father. Mark was indeed in the living room watching the news. His serious face was glued to the reporter who was speaking about the latest catastrophic weather event – another earthquake. The poor people were still rebuilding from the last one.
He noticed her standing beside his chair and said, “Hey, Sweetie! How’s my girl?”
Bug bent down and hugged her father around his neck. She felt better already. Everything would be alright. She felt like he would make everything better because that’s what dad’s do.
“I’m fine. Mom says to come eat now.”
Jumping up from his chair and turning off the TV, he said, “Good, I’m about to waste away. I’m starving! Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, I did. But I need to ask you about something. Can we have a talk after dinner?”
Mark was used to his daughter’s curiosity. She regularly asked him about current events or documentaries that she had watched. The request was nothing new. After the events of last week, he had been expecting it. He had a feeling that she was a little shaken about the recent events. To have known one person who passed away was hard enough, but she had known all three of those people. He put an arm around her tiny shoulder as they walked down the hall to the kitchen. “Sure, right after we eat.”
Dinner was as great as Bug had predicted. Soon all three of their plates were clean and none of them had left room for dessert.
“Wonderfully tasty as usual, Ann,” Mark complimented. Rubbing his belly, he turned to Bug and said, “Let’s go work off this meal with a good discussion.” He winked at his wife, and let her know that Bug had requested this conversation. She picked up on it and said, “Don’t worry about clearing the table, Bug. I’ll do it tonight. You go on and talk to Dad.”
Bug left the table and followed her father down the hall back to the living room. She chose the overstuffed loveseat with the ottoman and Mark plopped down beside her. That was their talking spot. They always ended up there when Bug had questions that needed answering. Mark would stretch his long legs out on the ottoman and Bug would stretch her short legs atop her father’s lap. Once they were cozy, Mark waited for Bug to start.
He was expecting her to ask questions about Heather and Hansen, so h
e was surprised when she said, “You know how knowledge is power? Well, sometimes it can be scary, too.” She unexpectedly started to cry.
Alarmed, Mr. Hamilton scooted closer to Bug and folded her up into his arms. Ann had obviously heard because Mark saw her head pop around the doorframe. She had a look of concern on her face. He mouthed, “She’s okay,” to his wife and let Bug cry it out. There were many times that Mark Hamilton had worried about his daughter – the first day of every school year, or meeting new people. She had always been a little quirky, but he and Ann thought it to be endearing. From what he witnessed of other people reacting to her, they seemed to feel the same way. For the most part, she was accepted as she was, but not at school, however. She was just so much smarter than kids her own age. The middle school principal and the school counselor had recommended that she skip a grade, but he and Ann had felt that she was not mature enough. She was a young girl with a brilliant mind.
As she nestled closer and the tears quieted, he wondered what could have her so upset. What did she mean that knowledge can be scary? He was used to her signature line of, “Knowledge is Power.” A day didn’t go by that he didn’t hear her say the phrase at least a couple of times. That and the word “super”. Just tonight at dinner she had said how “super yummy” the ravioli had been. He smiled to himself and squeezed her a little tighter, as he waited for her to be able to talk.
Finally, her dark, little head rose up, and she looked at him. “You know,” she sniffled, “Crying is the body’s natural way of releasing tension.”
He smiled at her. “I know. Now start at the beginning.”
So she did. She started way back at the Hot Dog Hut when Hansen had caused her to fall out of the booth and bloody her nose. She could tell that made her dad mad, but what could he do now? Hansen was dead.
Next she recounted the night she followed Eli and Hunter into the woods, and they had found Mr. Jackson. Her dad wasn’t happy about that, either, but he didn’t interrupt. He had been so worried about her that night after Deputy Clay had brought her home. She also told him about the box the boys had brought home with them.