Day Seventeen Part Two

My grandfather was very still as he looked to the pile of ashes and his eyes began to fill. Esthra caught her breath and followed his stare and it was if the Earth herself opened up and let forth the most awful, most hysterical cry mankind has ever known. She threw herself from his arms and ran to the giant mound of burned ash where her babies lay. They were in there, somewhere, mixed along with the embers and the soot, those lives that meant more to her than her own. She fell to her knees and the sky went black. That's true. This story has come down through all these generations and it's a well known fact, the sky went from yellow to black when Esthra Harris fell to her knees that day so long ago."

As I sat and listened to my grandmother, more attentively than I had ever listened before, I felt a cold chill trickling though me. Somewhere in the house, something was moving. Someone was there.

"So, she blamed your grandfather? And that's when she cursed him?" Woody asked intently.

"I knew you'd understand. You see, Esthra had come from a line of witches. Some people say that witches aren't real, that evil isn't real. But if there is a god, there is a devil, son. You mark my words. Everyone on that plantation knew about Esthra's people. Esthra's mother had been known to make voodoo dolls before she died. They knew of the darkness that was in her blood. Before the dark sky passed over, Esthra rose to her feet on which she could barely stand at all, and she turned to my grandfather. Her face was full of rage and her eyes were as black as night. She said, "I BLAME YOU!"

"But why?" he asked. "Why'd she blame him? Was it his fault the fire started?" My grandmother took a moment and then replied,

"There's more to what happened that night, child. More than I can tell you while you're still so fresh and new to the horrors in this world. But yes, he was partially to blame. But Esthra blamed him most. She cursed him that day. She said, "Your seed shall not flourish! Your offspring are as dead as mine! Do you hear me?! They are as dead as mine!"

I felt a presence around me. Oh, it was so thick I could barely breathe. I didn't know what to do. My grandmother and Woody were so involved in her story, it was as if I were all alone. I looked all around and still saw nothing. Was I imagining things?

"And that's how we came to be cursed. Each generation there has only been one to survive, one left to carry on the family name and to carry on the curse. I had six daughters. They all died rather young except my Dorothea, who was the youngest. I thought she was the one who would live, but to my surprise, she wasn't. It's this one." She pointed to me and all of a sudden I was the focus of their attention. In the darkness that sat between them I saw two horrible eyes staring directly at me.

"I think the reason my Joshua can see ghosts, son, is that he's meant to put an end to all this death. Somehow, he is the one who is supposed to end the curse. I just don't know how."

In that moment I would have loved to have said, "Yeah, I'm gonna end it cause I can't have no children." I already knew there would be no women for me and at that precise moment, looking into Woody's eyes, I knew that all the love I would ever need in my life was a flower waiting to bloom inside this wonderful boy, but I couldn't dwell on that for too long as two ancient black hands with sores on them gripped Woody's shoulders.

"Woody, no!" I screamed as I kicked my chair back. I didn't give them time to say anything. I ran around the table, threw my arms around him and threw him to the floor.

"Jesus, Peterson! What are you doing?"

"Joshua, what's going on!"

I only looked up and shielded my friend from this horrific ghost of a woman. She was the most horrific ghost I had ever seen in my life and now that she was in full view, I was scared, terrified in fact. Her face was aged and wrinkled, her hiar was pure white and her eyes filled me with a dread I cannot even describe.

"Please!" I cried. "Don't hurt us! What do you want?"

"Peterson ..."

"Silence, child!" my grandmother commanded. She came towards us on the floor. She walked right through the old woman and grabbed herself as if she felt a chill.

"What is it, Josh? What do you see? Who do you see? Whoever it is can't hurt you. You know that by now, baby."

"Josh, you're hurting me!" came Woody from beneath me. I didn't think it was possible that skinny little me could hurt this boy, but then I realized just how tight I had a hold of him. Before I even had a chance to relish the way he felt in my arms, my grandmother was pulling me up.

"Come on, baby, it's alright." The old woman had vanished and the warmth began to seep back into the room as if a fire had been lit. Woody scrambled to his feet. I'd never seen him really shaken before, but he was. He looked at me gravely.

"What happened," he asked, his hick voice more stern than usual.

"I don't know. There was someone here. An old lady. I thought ... I thought she was going to hurt you."

"An old lady?" he asked with a sneer. "And what exactly is an old lady going to do me?" Did he joke about it beause he didn't see her? Or did he joke about it because it was the only way he knew how to handle his fear? I wondered.

"Well, baby, is she still here?" my grandmother asked.

"No," I answered, my gaze never leaving Woody's. "She's gone."

"Well then it's all better. You gave us quite a start there!"

"I'm sorry, Granny." Woody went and picked up the chairs from off the floor.

"Ma'am" he spoke, "I want to thank you. I think I understand now why he sees ghost. Well, not really understand as much as ... I guess I get it ... kind of."

"Mmmm hmmm," is all that she said.

"And thank you very much for the food. It was real nice meeting you."

"You're headed home now?"

"Yeah, it's late. My father is probably wondering where I am now."

"Well, you're welcome back anytime, child. And you be sure you bring an empty stomach!" He smiled and offered her another hug. I grimaced because my grandmother was getting more love than I was from him!

He opened the door letting in all the bugs that had been waiting to follow us in ever since we arrived. He stood at the doorstep of the night and all her mystery, the crickets still chattering. He hesitated, then turned and looked at my grandmother queerly.

"Ma'am, I live pretty far. You reckon I can stay the night?"

She pointed to our old rotary telephone, the only one still in existence as far as I knew, and said, "I 'spect your father will be wondering where you are. I'll grab an extra pillow for you, dear."

"I have to use the bathroom!" I announced. I didn't know what else to do, I had to escape. There was way too much happening way too fast. I had to get away and sort it all out.

Woody gave me all knowing glance and said, "Yeah. I guess you been holding that all night now." At first I wondered where what he meant, then I remembered I had announced earlier that I had to pee real bad. That's what started our trek to my house, that little white lie. All I could do, besides stand there in that moment like a visitor in my own home, was turn away and walk down the hall to the bathroom. And that's just what I did.

After I closed the door behind me I stared in the mirror and breathed. Then I realized with startling clarity that Woody was spending the night with me. Woody was spending the night with me! "Oh, my God!" I said aloud to myself. Suddenly the ghost I had seen, my grandmother's history lesson, it all seemed meaningless and irrelevant in the face of this shocking revelation. Woody was spending the night with me!! This astoundingly beautiful boy for whom I had just a tad bit more than affection for, was going to spend the night in my room, possibly in my bed even. Wait a minute. In my bed?! This was just too good to be true! This was more than I could have ever dreamed of! This was going to be ... absolute hell!

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Peterson, what are you doing in there. You through yet?"

"Uh, just a minute!" I looked in the mirror and silently coached myself through the next few moments. Breathe, Josh, breathe! Just take it easy. Don't do anything stupid. Don't give yourself away. He can't find out. He absolutely can't find out. Just ... be cool. Be like a normal boy, for once in your pathetic life. You can do this. Just ... be cool. Be cool!

I opened the door to reveal Woody standing there, arms crossed, with a smirk. "Is it safe to enter," he asked, sarcasm biting his every syllable. I nearly nodded my head and he moved past me and shut the door. I looked down the hall and my light was on. My grandmother's door was shut, she had already tucked herself in for the night. How long had I been in there? It must have been a lot longer than I realized. And the worst part of it was at that moment I really did have to pee. I'd wait until the middle of the night. I'd get up while he was sleeping ... sleeping next to me hopefully. Stop, Joshua!

I walked to my bedroom and it was a mess. I hoped Woody wouldn't mind, but judging from the haphazard way he normally dressed, I'm sure he didn't. There were two pillows on my bed, on opposite ends of the bed.

I heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open. Before I knew it he was walking through my door and shutting it behind him. We were alone.

He yawned and, using only his feet, slipped out of one shoe, and then the other. He walked to the bed and moved the pillows side by side. "There's no way you're kicking me in the face all night."

He casually took off his shirt and threw it to the floor. Then he stopped and asked, "what's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" I asked and then suddnely realized I had been standing there like a statue, soaking in his every move. "Oh, nothing," I lied. God, how I wished that ghost would reappear so that I had a reason to throw my arms around him again. Only this time I would feel him, I mean really feel him. His smooth pale white naked skin looked so different than mine. I wanted to touch it, lick it. Oh no. There was something growing down the side of my leg. I took off my shoes and ran and hopped into my bed immediately. I didn't want him to see the boner that I had sprouted on the account of his bare chest.

"Good night!" I said.

"Are you gonna sleep with all your clothes on?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Jesus, Peterson, you really are a freak!"

"I know."

He walked to the edge of my room, bare foot and bare chested, wearing only his pants. He looked so comfortable in my room, much more comfortable than I was. He reached to the wall and turned out the light. I closed my eyes so he wouldn't catch me staring again. I felt him climb into the bed beside me and settle in. The rhythm of his breathing was so much more relaxed than mine. My boner was still raging. I couldn't turn over to face him.

"Peterson?"

"Mmmm=hmmmm?"

"Don't you worry. We're gonna figure this out."

"Figure what out?"

"What it is you have to do exactly to end the curse." Oh no. We had to talk about this. There was going to be no talk at school of any curse, in fact I never even wanted to hear him bring it up again. We definitely had to talk. I figured if I got under the covers, I could turn around and face him without fearing he would look down and see that I had grown considerably. What I didn't count on was that as I pulled myself under the covers, he would do the same. My entire body was struggling to resist his magnetic pull. I turned around and looked at him. He looked at me. Did he not realize how breathtakingly romantic this moment was with the moon laughing at us through my bedroom window? Or maybe the moon was just laughing at me. The fucker.

"Look, Woody, what you have to understand is that my grandmother's old, really really old and sometimes she..."

"She's fantastic! You're so lucky you have a grandma like that." Well, that pretty much ended my objection. He could talk about anything he wanted as long as I could look at him like that for the rest of my life. I could feel his body's warmth. I felt so connected, like if I reached out and put my hand on his arm, it would be ok. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. I wouldn't do anything to risk our friendship.

'Woody, ..."

"Yes?" he asked after I didn't say anything else. What did I want to say? So much that I didn't have the words for it. So, all I said was,

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being my friend." His eyes smiled. I'd never seen him this happy. I had the sudden urge to kiss him, to wrap myself up inside him endlessly, to fulfill in one simple moment every desire of my heart. He opened his mouth to speak and I thought he would say, "you're welcome." But no. He didn't say that.

"Peterson, you're a mess. Just like me." And with that he turned around, his back to my face, and went to sleep. I too turned around, my heart shattering into a million pieces, the tears welling up in my eyes. It was worse than if he'd never ever talked to me. Worse than if he hated me. It was so much worse to be so close to having everything you'd ever dreamed of, to literally be able to reach out and touch it, but know that you would never have it. I knew then at that moment without a doubt that he could never love me the way that I loved him. That hurt more than any other pain I'd felt in my life up to that point. But I didn't realize yet what pain was. I had no idea.