The Curse of 1977 (Book 2) Chapter 51

Port Cypress Airport

As if she were ailing, Lynnette hurled into the toilet for the third time during her stay at the airport.
When she had vomited enough she lifted her head up out of the bowl and rested her back against the
closed door of the stall she was locked inside of.

The young woman sat for the longest time staring back at the toilet she had been praising for the past
hour with sullen, red eyes. Lying on the floor beside her was her purse. She reached inside and rooted
about before pulling out a bottle of pills. In a mad rush she opened the childproof cap before emptying
out several pills into her shaking, waiting right hand.

Just before she could even raise her hand to her mouth she immediately stopped and stared hard at
the pink tablets. Her sweaty palms could hardly maintain a grip on the pills that were slowly sliding off
her hand. Before they could even fall to the floor she stretched out her arm and dropped them into the
toilet, along with the rest of the bottle's contents.

Lynnette then got to her knees and grudgingly flushed the toilet before standing up and letting herself
out of the stall.

"Wake up, girl." She groaned under her breath. "Wake up, already."

She was all alone inside the bathroom as the speaker above her head played 'Moon River.' With her
purse in hand she stumbled straight ahead to the first sink that she saw and stood there staring at her
own overwrought reflection in the mirror.

She appeared as if she hadn't slept in days. Her eyes were insipid while her hands trembled on the
porcelain. The longer she studied herself the more she just wanted to turn away.



Lynnette then twisted on the cold water faucet and dipped her hands in before washing her entire face.
When she was through she gave her reflection another gander, except by then her look was phony-
determined. She accepted it nonetheless. She cut off the faucet before turning and scanning the entire
bathroom once more.

She tucked her blue blouse into her bell-bottomed jeans, wrapped a blue scarf around her forehead
and put on her pair of cat's eye sunglasses before strolling out of the bathroom and into the busy
terminal where others were either rushing to their various planes or simply waiting by the windows that
overlooked the parked aircrafts.

Making sure to keep her head pointed to the floor, Lynnette side-stepped one person after another on
her way to a vacant seat near the window. The very second she sat down she exhaled as deep as she
could before glancing out the window at one plane race down the runway and take off into the sky.

Suddenly, the nauseous sensation that she had carried with her to the airport resurfaced, and the
bathroom was too far away for her to race to.

"You look like you've never flown before, honey."

Lynnette looked up and over to see an elderly black woman seated right next to her. The woman was
wearing a black flower hat with plastic daisies sticking out in the front. Lynnette immediately pulled
herself together right then.

"No, no, I've flown before." She caught her breath. "I'm just really...nervous. That's why I was in the
bathroom for so long."

Chuckling, the lady remarked, "The last time I was stuck in the bathroom like that was on my wedding
day way back in 1938."

Lynnette only giggled and said, "I could only wish it was a wedding."



"I'm going to see my grandson way out in Colorado."

Lynnette turned her body towards the lady at that moment. Never before had she laid eyes on the
woman, and yet, inside an airport, she remembered her mother sitting in her rocking chair and talking
to her while she lay in bed. It would be just one more fond memory that would accompany her.

"Where in Colorado does your grandson live?"

"A place called Boulder." She said. "My son is paying for my ticket, so that makes it a lot easier on me, I
guess."

Lynnette smiled at the lady before saying, "I sure hope my son treats me that well when he grows up."

"You have a son, too?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lynnette proudly chimed in. "He'll be three next month."

"Little boys sure are beautiful when they're that age. It's only when they get to be teenagers that they
turn into fools." The lady laughed out loud.

Lynnette laughed, but only for a glimpse of a moment before frowning and bashfully looking away.

"I often wonder what kind of man he'll grow up to be."

"Well, it all depends on what his childhood is like." The lady replied. "Some boys have a hard childhood
and end up becoming good men, while some have an easy one and grow up to be hard-headed
heathens. Only the good Lord knows for sure."

Lynnette turned back to face the lady. She wanted to blurt out the very first thing that came into her
head at that instant, but she restrained herself while another plane left the ground and kissed the sky.



"The parents play such an important role in their lives as well." The lady said. "If we parents can do our
best to not only teach our youngens well, but protect them from this wicked world, then we've done a
good job."

Lynnette stared on at the lady before taking off her glasses and exposing her teary eyes. "Me and my
son's father haven't been very good parents to our son." Her voice faltered. "I blame myself too,
because...because I felt like I could've done more."

The lady only glared back at Lynnette with the kindest look in her brown eyes. Placing a hand on her
knee, she said, "You still have time to set things straight. You see, my ten year old grandson was killed
by a drunk driver three years ago. Ever since then, my son flies me out for a few days so he and I can
visit his grave."

Lynnette could actually feel her heart inside her throat at that slow instant in time. She placed her
shaking hand on the lady's and stuttered, "It was such a long winter."

The lady continued to smile while saying, "Yes...Lord knows it sure was."

Wiping her eyes, Lynnette stood up and said, "Speaking of the Lord, I have a call to make."

Walking over to a series of payphones that were located next to the bathrooms, Lynnette took out a
quarter from her purse and inserted it into the slot before dialing only three numbers.

"Cypress Police Department. How may I direct your call?"

"Yes, this is Lynn...Grier. I'm a reporter with the Cypress Guardian. I was calling to inquire why there
was never a backup unit called for the police officers that came to the Hollis Estates four days ago."

There was a long pause over the phone at that moment which caused Lynnette to believe that she had
been hung up on.



"Uh, Miss Grier, we never sent a unit to the Hollis Estates four days ago. I'm afraid you people have
your facts mixed up there again at your paper."

At that, the person on the other end hung up. Lynnette responded in kind, only rather than become
upset she simply smirked and glanced upwards really quick.

"Flight 701 to Miami now boarding," the announcer proclaimed. "Flight 701 to Miami now boarding!"

Once the announcer was through, The Crusaders', 'It Happens Everyday' started playing over the
speaker.

Lynnette limped her way back over to the lady where she hugged her and kissed her on the cheek
before joining in along the throngs of people boarding Flight 701.

She eventually melted away, and out of sight...

In the Beginning...

In the beginning...no, no, let me start over. This is how it goes.

I once knew a young man. Besides Jermaine Jackson, that young man was my very first crush. I loved
that young man. I cherished that young man. I adored that young man. But something went very, very
wrong. Something happened. My eyes saw something very ugly, and if I dwell on it for too long, then
my decisions will forever be altered.

I am not a brilliant woman, but how do I forgive the one person who has brought so much pain to me
and our child's lives? I guess I should ask, could he ever forgive me? After all, I too have...have
skeletons. And yet, God still stands beside me.

I'm not a religious person. Hell, with the exception of February, I can't recall the last time I went to
church, but God saved our lives time and time again. With me and God there is a stalemate. I can't see



you, God. I can't hear you or even touch you, but I know for a fact what I saw, and it wasn't a stupid
dream.

Detective Bruin saw it as well. I always heard that people who commit suicide end up going to Hell in
the end. If I am allowed to ask, please, Jesus, please...show that man the same mercy you've shown
me. For you know exactly what we've seen. You know exactly what we've been through. Need I explain
anymore?

I honestly don't know if this is the beginning or the end. All I know is that I don't have much time left,
and neither does my child.

I have nothing more to say to anyone at this point.As for you, God, I'd rather you not follow me...for at
last, I'm going to Hell.


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