The Cursed Man (17 page)

“Please, read it.”

The parchment was yellowed and brittle. The ink was faded but legible. It was a death certificate.

“No,” Alister said. “I clearly remember going to her house after school. She used to help me with my homework and feed me dinner.”

“No, she didn't. It is as the paper states. She died before you were born.”

 

 

 

The past.

 

A flash of pain that surrounded Alister's elbow woke him from a deep sleep. He groaned and rubbed at the throbbing, trying to remember what had made him thrash.

“Death,” he said, his resonating voice a dull echo. He licked his dry cracked lips with a tongue coated with saliva so thick that it was like paste. “You've taken them all from me. Do you need to cause me pain as a reminder that you're still around me?”

Death had come for every one of his family members, and he could do nothing but watch their struggle. They tried to run from the shadowy faceless figure in a ragged cloak. It had eyes that glowed red and a deep, taunting laugh. Sometimes its approach was fast, but most of the time it would take its time and make people suffer. And in the end, death always got its fill.

Shadowy tendrils that reached down from the ceiling commanded Alister's attention. The way they swayed were like fingers of a skeletal hand reaching out, and that made him forget the pain in his elbow and the contents of his dream.

“What is that?”

Alister rubbed his eyes. Cobwebs that were weighed down by dust and debris waved in the draft.

“Strange. My eyes must be adjusting to the darkness.”

He had lost count of how many days he had been locked inside the small room. His internal clock told him it had been over ninety-six hours.

“Four days.”

He yawned, stretched and sat up. He looked behind himself, and the door to the room was ajar. A small wedge of light was beaming through.

He rushed to his feet and grunted at the stiffness that had settled in his joints.

“Four days of living in my own filth—”

He moved to the door, and though tempted to close it and remain within the safety of the room, he knew he couldn't. The security of the room had been compromised.

“—for nothing.”

He shifted on his feet and spied what was beyond the room.

Dozens of chairs were stacked, one on top of the other. Odd items were strewn about, and filing cabinets and office desks were piled without care.

Alister moved forward and was stopped by something that snagged his shirt. The steel on the door had been peeled inward and sharp shards stuck out in all directions.

“So now what am I supposed to do?” someone said in the room beyond his.

Alister moved away. His blood warmed and indecision raced through his mind.

“I've arranged everything as you instructed.”

Alister tried to push the door closed, but it wouldn't budge.

“I'm ready to go whenever you are.”

Alister looked at the man with bulging muscles. His eyes were so red they appeared to glow. Just like death's did.

“How much longer do you need?” Milos asked.

“Where are we going?”

“Don't you remember?”

As big as that man was, he looked pathetic and weak.

“Remember what?”

“Coming to me last night?”

Alister shook his head. “No.”

“Are you telling me you can't feel that?”

Alister exited the room and stood next to a stack of desks. The floor was dirt, and each step stirred dust.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at your hands.”

Deep lacerations covered both hands. The wounds were jagged and filled with dried blood and grime.

“My God,” Alister said, and he looked at the door.

“That door was intact when we put you inside that room.”

Alister opened and closed his hands. They felt stiff but there was no pain. “I don't understand.”

“When you came to me last night, I was sleeping by that desk.” He pointed at two desks that had been placed upright and butted together. “You tapped me on my shoulder, and I thought I was dreaming. That's when you grabbed me, shook me, and got real close to me and said, ‘Boo.'”

“You didn't hear me trying to get out?” Alister ran his fingertips over the serrated metal.

The muscleman shook his head. “I've been keeping watch over you for days making sure you couldn't get out of that room. But when you got out, I tried to get away from you. But you grabbed my arm and held me still without a problem.” He moved close to Alister and lifted his sleeve. In a clear purple bruise he could see a handprint. “I couldn't believe how strong you were, and no matter how hard I tried pulling away, I couldn't loosen your hold.”

Alister felt small next to Milos.

“You told me you were hungry and thirsty and that you would be waiting for your meal in the room and that I shouldn't keep you waiting.”

Alister looked away. “I don't remember any of this.”

“When I brought you your meal, you were sitting in the center of the room. Your hands were dripping with blood and that is when I noticed how you had gotten out of the room. I offered you assistance with your wounds, but you denied me, taking only the food and water.”

“How long ago?”

“Several hours.”

“I don't think you have much time.”

“Yes, I realize that. You instructed me to arrange a place where you would be away from human contact, but also a place where necessities would be provided for you every day. I've made such arrangements. We should go now.”

 

 

 

Present day.

 

Alister pinched a clump of chin hair between his pointer finger and thumb and pulled it tight. He held scissors as close to the skin as possible and cut the hair from his beard, dropping the clippings into the sink. When he cut away all the length, he wet his face and lathered it with soap, using extra care to shave away the remaining stubble.

The coolness of the air that touched his newly exposed skin tingled. He used his fingertips to trace his soft jawline, which was sensitive to the touch. And when he gazed into the mirror, an unfamiliar stranger looked back at him.

I haven't seen you in a long time. Welcome back.

Alister moved to the shower stall and turned on the water. The showerhead belched, gurgled and spat a weak stream of rusted water. Once the water cleared, he adjusted the temperature to his liking and disrobed. He grabbed the bar of soap off of the sink and stepped into the shower. He settled beneath the warm jet of water that soaked his body. The thought that layers of grime were being peeled away and a new person was emerging made him eager to clean himself. He was gentle with the soap at first, but his need to escape what he had been for so long brought about an intensity that encouraged him to move faster, scrub harder.

When he stepped out of the shower, Alister whistled as he moved about, grabbing a plush towel and drying his body off. The door to his room swung open and Michael hobbled in.

“Good morning,” Alister said.

Michael made no attempt to make eye contact with Alister and muttered his response. “Good morning.”

Alister wrapped his body with the towel and stepped out of the bathroom. He had hoped to share his new look and relish in a moment of surprise and compliments.

“Are you OK?” Alister said.

“Just tired.” Michael looked at Alister and forced a smile. “You showered and shaved; you look like you're ready to take on the world.”

“Thank you.”

The deep purple rings surrounding Michael's eyes didn't escape Alister's notice.

“Are you sure you're OK?”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't seem to be fine.”

“Listen, I would love to stay and chat, but I have a million things to do.”

Alister nodded his understanding. “Yeah, OK.” He looked at his chair and the wear in the fabric was a good comparison to how Michael looked. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes watched his feet. His face grimaced with each step he took, and when he grabbed the door handle, he rested his head against the wall.

“You should know that you look good, Alister. You really do. And I'm glad that you are feeling better. I see a big improvement within you. I really do.”

Michael sighed and exited the room.

 

 

PRESENTING: THE TRUTH

 

 

Anna reached out and touched Alister's shaven face.

“I think it has taken away at least ten years.” She raised her brows and a smile overtook her face. “You clean up well.”

Alister's smile matched Anna's. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“I'm sure anything I did would be an improvement from how I looked before.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than that.”

Alister looked at the vibrant plant life beyond his window. Everything looked so peaceful and inviting. “I enjoyed yesterday.”

“I did too, and I'm proud of you.”

He patted his chest. “I don't know what it did to me, but something inside has changed.”

Anna moved beside him and pointed to the variety of color in the garden. “So you can still see the beauty?”

He moved his face close to the window, and when he spoke, the glass fogged from the heat of his breath. “I want to go back outside.”

“Then grab your jacket.”

After Alister put on a second layer of clothes, they exited his room and walked down the hallway. Alister took his time and inspected everything he had seen the day before.  With curious eyes, he looked through the small windows of each door, and the people he saw inside their rooms sat motionless in front of their windows overlooking the garden.

“Just like me.”

He believed that the constant longing that filled their hearts eventually flattened their hope. He knew that because he had done that every day for as long as he could remember. But he would no longer wait for that void to be filled by something that would never come. He snickered at the thought.

“Maybe I have made progress.”

There was a world outside his small room, and it waited to share its beauty and reveal something special to him.

“I won't do it—not anymore,” he said, and he turned away from the rooms. He followed Anna outside the hospital in silent contemplation as they made their way to the bench that overlooked the garden.

The splendor of the day was spectacular. Each breath Alister drew was deep and carried the scent of fresh cut grass and flowers that had flourished in the bright day's sun.

“Beautiful.”

The air was crisp and refreshing.

Anna watched Alister and smiled at his joy.

“You have given me hope for the future I never thought possible,” Alister said. He sat on the bench next to Anna. He leaned back and gave pause to soak in the beauty that surrounded him. Tall trees, green grass, blooming flowers and puffy white clouds against a powder blue backdrop made him feel alive. “I quit on you yesterday, and I'm sorry for it.”

“Your successes, no matter how big or small, never require an apology.”

Alister studied Anna. Her inner and outer beauty complimented the moment perfectly.

“You told me you had had enough, and that is what you're supposed to do,” she said.

“I think I'm ready for whatever else you have to tell me.”

It was Anna's turn to study Alister's face. “You're certain of this?” Her eyes searched his for any sign of doubt.

Alister smiled. “You're doing it again, doctor, but not as badly as you did when we first met.”

Anna cracked a smile, nodded her understanding and leaned back. A cool breeze lifted her hair gently and her nose was reddened at the tip.

Alister could smell the scent of her shampoo, and he was reminded of Sharon. He inhaled, held his breath and closed his eyes.

“Tell me what you remember about your father.”

Alister opened one eye and trained it on Anna. “He was a kind man that worked very hard to support us. And I remember whenever he came home from work he would be whistling or singing. Dad was good to Mom, and they were always a lot of fun together.”

Anna nodded as Alister spoke, and it seemed odd that she wasn't gripping a pen and taking notes.

“And tell me some things about your mother,” she said.

“She was a perfect woman,” Alister said. “I've compared every woman that I've ever met to her, and none have come close—not even my wife. You know, you remind me of my mother in a lot of ways.”

“How so?” Anna said. Her eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Well, for starters, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. And like you, she had a genuine care for the people she came in contact with.”

Anna bobbed her head at the compliment and fought away the smile that had parted her lips. “Can you tell me anything negative you might remember about them?”

Alister sighed and struggled as he searched for something to say. “Well, my mother was weakened a lot by her dependency on religion. I also didn't get to see them as much as I would have liked. Several hours after I got home from school, they would pick me up from my grand—”

Alister licked his lips and fell silent. His rosy cheeks hid the rush of embarrassment he felt burn his face.

“What is it?”

“If everything I knew about my grandmother was a lie, then what about my parents? That's what this is about, isn't it?”

Anna nodded with a solemn expression on her face.

“What is the truth about them then?”

She paused before she turned askew, her full attention on Alister. A gentle concern filled her eyes and her hand moved to his knees. “When you were seven years old, you witnessed your mother drowning your younger brother in the bathtub after she had killed your father.”