The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Her dreams were lucid and clear, like treading through crystal water on a bright, sunny day. Lynnette could see for miles within
the dark and quiet forest before she came to a waterfall that was heavily illuminated by the heavenly full moon. In all her
unbridled nakedness she stepped onto the muddy walkway that led to the front of the falls and watched as the rushing water
cascaded down in front of her. She, along with the falls was lit up by the moon's potent energy. She looked down at her hands
and legs that appeared so smooth and weightless. Every time she moved it felt as if she were levitating across the logs on the
ground and in front of the glistening falls.
Just as soon as she made it to the middle of the walkway, Lynnette could hear something right behind her. It was splashing about
in the water and snarling. She turned around in a calm manner to see the beast lurking before her. Its glowing eyes and
salivating fangs shined in the moon's light, and yet, as close as it drew, Lynnette couldn't find it within herself to be afraid. Instead
of backing away she simply stood still in the middle of the walkway and watched with sullen eyes the creature stalk her down and
growl as its hulking frame entered underneath the moonlight's awesome radiance.
"Shit!" Lynnette abruptly awoke from her evening rest.
In the darkness she gawked around to see Senada lying on a mat in the corner, while Cusha remained in her original Indian-
Style position up against the wall fast asleep. Her head was lunged backwards to where all Lynnette could see was the woman's
neck. Clearing the sweat away from her face and neck Lynnette got up from off the floor and listened as the rain tapped against
the hut's grain. Still clothed in her skimpy, black skirt the woman got up and stood perfectly still in the middle of the floor. She
listened as the two old women snored away in the night, as though they had no worries at all. Lynnette couldn't help but to stare
down at Cusha in refined wonder. Within the woman's body was such a warm and familiar soul.
Upon any other occasion she would have been absolutely terrified of such an occurrence, or at least seized the advantage of
sitting down and chatting with her about fond childhood remembrances. But Lynnette had no inkling of what was and was not
real anymore. She cared no more about the past or the present, and as far as the future was concerned, what would happen
would eventually happen. She knew that an end was drawing closer and closer with every passing day. It just ate away at her as
to whose end would follow.
Lynnette couldn't tell if she wanted to care or not about her own life at that point. Yes, there was still Isaiah, but her will was
rapidly depleting. Every so often she would consider his life without her being in it, and how much better off he could possibly be.
But then again, as usual, there was Arthur.
Lynnette sulked within herself before turning and heading for the door. She carefully opened it and closed it before walking out
into the tepid rain that fell so softly upon body. Her bare feet squished and slipped across the muddy ground before she came to

the trail that led downwards. It was getting to the point where she couldn't tell whether it was Arthur or Isaac hunting her down.
Just recalling Isaac's face was haunting enough, but knowing that his spirit could still be lingering about in the world always
seemed to make her bones ache.
Ever since arriving in Jamaica she had managed to keep the memory of Isaac deep within the darkest corners of her mind. But
she soon began to realize that there was always a cause and an effect. It was because of him that she was in the country at all.
And then, there she was. No matter what, Lynnette could not cease thinking about him. Even when she was with Jose the man's
image appeared in front of her. And just like Jose, Isaac was gone all over again.
Before she knew it, Lynnette had reached the very tip of the trail. There was no moon to speak of in the sky, nor were there any
animals creeping about in the wilderness. It was just Lynnette standing in front of a still and smelly pond. She turned back to see
darkness behind her. The fact that she had even left the hut in the middle of the night didn't seem to weight too fondly upon her.
And yes, she was well aware that she was wide awake. Just as soon as the woman saw fit to reverse course and head back,
within the water something began to bubble and stir. Unlike in her dreams, Lynnette was afraid, which was why she started to
back away from the pond. At that juncture it could have been almost anything creeping up out of the water.
As she was about to turn and run away Lynnette spotted a form slowly lurk from out of the pond. It was a person, but their face
was too dark to see clearly. Lynnette wanted to run but her legs had become immobile. Much like all of the ungodly happenings
throughout the year, what was coming at her had to be witnessed with stunned eyes.
The figure was soon followed by what looked to be a female. Her face as well was hidden by the veil of darkness. Soon, one by
one there came more and more people out of the water, including little boys and girls. All of them were just lifelessly plodding
through the forest in all their unbeknownst nakedness.
Lynnette's entire body wasn't even shaking. All she did was stand and watch as the wretched souls carried on as if she weren't
there and they had another destination to venture towards.
How many of the souls were marching was unknown, but without any words spoken amongst them they all exited the water and
in a single file formation entered into the immensity of the nighttime forest until they could no longer be seen by the naked eye.
Just like that, Lynnette's ridged body simply dropped to the muddy ground where it laid completely unconscious.
***
It was day or night; no one could tell any longer. Lynnette, a muddy mess from head to toe, sat on the floor limp and lifeless in
front of Cusha who was steadily braiding the young woman's tough hair by candlelight inside the tiny hut. Lynnette's eyes were

listless while her mouth endlessly hung open. Cusha was humming a tune, but inside Lynnette's stagnant mind was black fog.
Whatever melody was coming from the old woman was falling on deaf ears.
"I'm seeing the last of my days in this world, dear." Cusha muttered as she twisted Lynnette's hair in a bunch. "Take the boat and
go while you still can. I can't be here much longer."
But Lynnette remained motionless on the floor, almost as if her bones had all but given up. Had it not been for Cusha pressing
her knees against her back the young lady would have collapsed completely to the floor.
"Take me to the water. Take me to the water. Take me to the water to be baptized." Cusha gently sang above Lynnette's head.
"Go to the water, child." She spoke. "Go to the water and leave this place forevermore. God will be with you."
"Isaac." Lynnette's voice emotionlessly whispered. "Isaac...Isaac."
The woman's inert eyes had no focus or attention left inside of them. They were just there inside their respective sockets, along
with the remainder of her body that hung like dead flesh waiting to be buried.
***
The rain sputtered down upon the forest as Cusha, from just a few feet back, watched with woeful eyes Lynnette on both knees
in front of the pig pen. The young, broken woman had been there for hours, getting wet and blindly fiddling with the wandering
swine that only enjoyed the frivolity of their muddy terrain.
Cusha stood in place while getting soggier with every passing second. Lynnette appeared like a wet rodent at that stage. Her
hair that Cusha had braided was falling apart, and her already tattered clothes were becoming mere shreds that just happened to
barely be covering only private parts; the remaining portions of her body, like arms, legs and her feet were completely exposed to
the elements. The woman was progressively becoming a part of the grim surroundings she had immersed herself in for the past
few months.
Cusha listened closely as Lynnette muttered little babblings at the pigs, namely at one that she was petting so gently and giving
all the attention in the world to. She couldn't hear exactly what she was saying to the animals, but Cusha could tell that her
words, though incoherent, were soothing, as if she were consoling a child of sorts. Cusha observed a little bit longer before
eventually turning and heading back up the trail that led to Senada's hut. Even before she could make it to the front door Senada
came out of the hut with her large butcher knife in hand and parka over her head.
With her face pointed towards the trail, Senada said, "I take it ya girl still out dere?"

Not bothering to wipe her wet face dry, Cusha mournfully replied, "Yes...she is."
Senada's eyes stared off at the distance before she turned towards Cusha's direction. "You've come a mighty long way to see
your child. I could sense your long distance ever since you first arrived at me doorstep."
Cusha turned to the old woman and simply smirked, "My distance is never too far. I was merely awakened, and I followed."
Senada tightened her parka around her frail old head before saying, "How long before she meets you in eternity?
Cusha wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold and sighed, "She hasn't eaten in days."
Senada only dropped her head and took a step out into the rain. "Dis forest speaks every single night. My people left me and
traveled on de other evening. Dey left me behind." She then poked her head from out of her parka. "I can still smell dem in de
air." She continued. "You can smell de air in dis forest, it still stinks. Dey eat everyting in sight; dey witches and sorcerers."
Senada then drew close to Cusha. "Tell me...do dey speak of my people in eternity? Of my sons," she whispered.
Cusha didn't even bother to respond, she just stared off back down the trail for as far as her eyes would allow.
"I figure so." Senada relented as she carried on out into the rain. "Tell de girl dat her hours are growing faint! As are mine!"
Cusha watched as Senada withdrew from her presence and shuffled down another path within the forest before vanishing into
the bushes. She then turned back to the trail. She couldn't see Lynnette from where she was standing, but she knew good and
well that the woman hadn't moved in hours. And the remaining hours were racing by at a lighting pace.
"You are a good man, Isaac." Cusha looked down at the soaked ground. "But...it is time."