The Cursed Man (12 page)

“What note?”

“The note that's going to save the lives of your colleagues after you die.”

 

 

The nurse escorted Alister into a large room divided into several small rooms by curtains that hung from the ceiling to the floor.

“I need you to disrobe and put on the gown,” the nurse said. He dropped a folded robe at the foot of the bed. “The doctor will be with you in a few minutes.” The nurse stepped out of the examining room and pulled the curtain behind him.

“What happened to the cops outside? Did they all die? And where the hell is the note I wrote?”

The nurse looked through a break in the curtain and focused an impatient stare on Alister. “I don't know about any note, and I know as much as you do about the fate of those cops.”

Alister rubbed his wrists. The handcuffs had left itchy indentations in his skin. He pulled off his pants and threw them onto the floor. “You need to find that note!”

“And what I need you to do is finish changing and wait for the doctor like I instructed. You also need to maintain your composure while you wait for the doctor. I can arrange to have those handcuffs put back on you.”

“I won't do this!” Alister said. The veins in his neck bulged, and he slammed his fist down onto the examination table. “Didn't you see what happened to that man outside?  People are—”

“Sir, I'm telling you for the last time,” the nurse said. His tone was stern. “You need to calm down and have a seat or I will have you restrained.”

“You're not listening!” Alister moved toward the nurse with a wild look in his eyes. “I told you people that talk to me end up like those cops outside.”

“You were warned.” The nurse shouted over his shoulder, “I need help in here!” and stepped into the room. He pointed to the examination table. “Sit down, sir.”

Alister cocked his fist and the nurse lunged forward and grabbed Alister by the wrists and pulled him backward. He pushed him onto the bed and pinned him down. Numerous doctors and nurses rushed into the room and helped hold Alister down. They tied him to the bed.

Alister kicked and screamed as he tried to fight them off, but their numbers were too great. They overpowered him and stuck a needle into his arm. He shouted his protest as he watched the contents of the syringe being pushed into his veins.

The flesh on the faces of those that stood over Alister began to melt away until only bone remained. The skeletons around him shouted accusations of his conspiring against their fellow man by sending death on a mad rampage. Alister could only look on in paralyzed terror.

 

 

The door to Alister's room was opened with such force that it bounced off the wall with a bang. Alister tried to sit up but restraints wrapped around his wrists, chest, hips and ankles bound him to the bed. A bright light that hung from the ceiling stared down at him buzzing and blinking.

“Who is there?”

The last thing Alister could remember was being in the emergency room of the hospital, where he was forced down on a bed and stabbed with a needle.

“Tell me what is going on,” a man that stood beyond the lit area asked.

“Who are you?”

“I ask the questions. What killed those men?”

Alister attempted to lift his head, but it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “Where am I, and who are you?”

The man stepped forward and into the light. He wore a white doctor's smock and had eyes filled with anger.

“I am someone who has lost a lot today.” The tone of his voice betrayed his eyes. “All of the people that tried to help you are dead.”

“I'm cursed. Did the sergeant pass along my note before he died?”

“There is no note.”

“Please, I need something to write with. You have to untie me.”

“What is this note?”

“Instructions on what you should do if things got to this point. You have to find it.”

“There is no note!” The doctor's features contorted, and the veins in his forehand bulged. His face was bright red and his anger was tangible—even from across the room.

“There is a note. You need to find it so people can read it and understand it.”

The doctor lunged forward and grabbed Alister by his shoulders and shook him. “I demand an explanation. What have you done?”

Alister couldn't defend himself and didn't want to. He knew he deserved whatever he got. “I've already told them, and they wouldn't listen. I see you're no different. You will come to believe that I am cursed like they did.” Alister looked away. “How many have died?”

The doctor released Alister. “At least ten, maybe more.  The nurse that brought you into the hospital was the last to go about an hour ago. He was completely delirious before he expired, and we weren't able to get any information from him. I need you to tell me what causes it.”

“Oh, God,” Alister said as he closed his eyes. “It's a vicious cycle that will keep repeating itself.”

“I need you to tell me what you know.”

“About the curse?” He sighed. “I don't know,” Alister said, his eyes moved rapidly behind their lids. “Simple things like what we're doing now.”

“What? Talking?”

“Sometimes it's even less than that.”

“Tell me what I have to do to escape it!”

“I'm sorry. There's nothing.”

“Why?” The doctor shoved items from a portable tray, which crashed onto the floor. The noise it made was loud and gave Alister an idea about the size of the room he occupied. He suspected the room was normally used for surgery.

“I deserve a better answer than that!” the doctor said.

Alister opened his eyes and turned his focus to the doctor. “I'm sorry. There isn't a better answer. I suggest you put your effort into keeping everyone away from me before your time runs out. Find the note, have people read it and understand it. This is the only way to stop people from dying.”

The doctor reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a syringe. He pulled off the cap with his teeth and spit it out.

Alister looked away and said, “I hope that works. I really do.  It would do everyone a favor.”

“We can tell them you died from complications during surgery. We've already made the report about your failing health when you fell unconscious.” The doctor moved toward Alister and squeezed the plunger on the syringe. A fine stream of liquid squirted into the air. “I'm sorry, but we don't know how else to handle this.”

“Do it,” Alister said. He turned his arm up to show the doctor a vein. “You have no idea how long I've sought death. Now I only hope you can show it to me.”

The doctor settled next to Alister, grabbed his arm, found the vein Alister offered him and stabbed the needle downward. The needle broke through the skin, and when the doctor pressed down on the plunger, the needle shattered.

The doctor trembled and stared at the needle in amazement. The contents of the needle dripped off of his chin. Then suddenly, a loud crack echoed inside the room and the doctor shouted out in pain.

“What was that?” Alister said. He leaned up to try to see.

The doctor cringed from the intense pain that filled his body and paced the room. His right hand supported his left forearm, which swung limply.

“My arm is broken.”

“How?”

“I don't know.”

The doctor went down to one knee, his face filled with pain.

“It's here.”

“What's here?” the doctor said as he stood.

“Death. You shouldn't have done that.”

A second more pronounced loud crack filled the room and Alister saw the doctor's right arm above the elbow break and dangle.

“Son of a bitch!”

Another bone broke, and the doctor teetered. He crashed to the floor.

“My leg! Make it stop!”

Alister went to plug his ears with his pointer fingers, but the restraints held him in place.

Crack!

“Please, help me!”

Crack!

“I can't,” Alister said as he fought against the restraints.

The doctor thrashed and swore underneath his breath.

“Please!”

Alister tilted his head so that he was able to see the door to the room.

“What's happening to me?”

Crack!

The doctor shouted and whimpered.

“Please,” Alister said. “Stop screaming, or they'll hear you and come.”

 

 

 

Present day.

 

Alister pressed his hands and face against the warm glass. He closed his eyes and soaked in the heat of the day. A groan of satisfaction escaped his lips, and his shoulders slumped forward.

“I don't deserve this.”

He opened his eyes and squinted. The sunlight was bright and thwarting. Browsing the sterile edge of the forest, his focus swept through the garden. Shifting left and right, he cupped his hands around his eyes, which were focused on something unbelievable.

A single flower.

There, in the center of the brown and decay, a yellow flower thrived. It was as bright as the day, and it stretched its thin, green limbs toward the sun.

“It's beautiful.”

It had been so long since he had seen the bloom of a flower that he had forgotten how pretty it was. What he saw reminded him of love, and no matter how much he denied its importance, he could never forget how wonderful and intense that feeling was.

Drawing a breath deep enough to make his chest swell, he imagined the perfumed aroma filling his nostrils.

“What I would do to be able to smell that.”

“You can, whenever you're ready.”

Alister placed his palms on the window and slowly made a fist, imagining taking a hold of the stem and plucking it from the ground so that it was his to keep.

“I mean that, Alister.”

His body shook and he turned to see Anna. “You planted that there for me. You know it won't live long.”

Anna raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I didn't.”

A long moment of silence passed, and Alister moved his eyes back to the flower and then to Anna's reflection in the glass. The concern she had for him was as clear as the blue sky, and it warmed him more than the sun itself.

“There is something else,” Anna said.

Alister broadened his shoulders. “I am ready.”

“I had a difficult time figuring out when it would be a good time to share this with you.”

Anna moved to the bed and sat.

“I feel we've made tremendous strides in coming to understand that you are in control of your life—that the curse is something created by your fears.”

Alister's focus settled on the flower again. “I suppose there is proof in that?”

“I remember you telling me about your uncle and how he died a few weeks after your mother passed away. I believe you said it was a broken neck.”

Alister sat, gripped the armrests and rested his head. “Yes, he fell down the stairs leading to his basement.”

“And what was the theory you had about that?”

“That he was pushed by something unseen to make me pay.”

“I know things didn't end perfectly between the two of you. You've said on more than one occasion that you wish you hadn't thrown his sexuality into his face the night of your mother's death.” Anna stood and walked toward the door. “I requested he come here to see you today so you could have that second chance.”

Alister started to speak but no words came forth. The pound of his heart worked the inside of his ribcage and shortened his breath.

Anna opened the door and Bob, Alister's uncle, stepped into the room. His eyes were bright with tears. He wore a smile so big it parted his lips.

“It's not possible.” Alister rose to his feet.

“Alister!” Bob wrapped Alister in a tight hug. “I've been waiting for this moment for so long.” He picked him up and spun him around. “It's so good to see you.”

Alister's arms dangled by his sides and something within stirred. “Put me down.”

Alister was trapped within an intricate web of vivid memories from the past. It was beyond reason how that man stood in front of him.

“I want you both to get out of my room.”

Bob put Alister down. “What is it?” He looked to Anna.

Alister turned away, moved toward the window and leaned against the wall. The yellow flower was now brown and shriveled. “What is going on?” He bowed his head and clamped his eyes shut, his thoughts racing.

“You said my being here would make him happy,” Bob said.

Alister shook his head. “You died.”

“He's confused,” Anna said.

“I'm here,” Bob said. “You felt my touch and are speaking to me.”

“I've spoken to things that weren't really there before.” Alister traced the scarring on his right palm with his left pointer finger. “I remember laying your body flat. You looked so uncomfortable the way your limbs were contorted.”

“None of those memories are real,” Anna said.

Alister turned toward her and gave her a hardened stare. “That's ridiculous.”

Anna took hold of his hands. “You haven't been in Sunnyside for twenty years.”

“I don't know that man.” Alister pointed at Bob. “That's not my uncle.”

“I should go,” Bob said.

“No,” Anna said. “You need to stay.”

Bob started to leave but then stopped. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head. “OK. I'll stay then.”

“I've stared at these walls, all alone, day after day, watching the paint turn yellow and flake away. I've kept myself away from the rest of the world to protect the well-being of others. I have seen the shadow of death with my own eyes.”

“Alister?”

“He should go.”

Anna turned Alister's head with a finger on his chin. “Calm yourself and listen to what I have to say.”