forget the deal I had made with him. Then he spoke with anger in his voice.
“Because you have broken our agreement, you shall be cursed until the time you beg me to take your soul!”
Then he was gone and it didn’t take me long to find out what my curse was… to be alone for the rest of my life for whomever I made physical contact with or whoever contacted me died a short time later. My wife and little boy were first to suffer my curse… both dying in a fiery car wreck. Then the funeral director who oversaw my wife's and son’s burial…drowning at the beach when he was swept away in a drift current. Then my mother suffered a heart attack. She had been as healthy as a horse. My father died a couple days later when he was hit by a bus. Some think he intentionally step out in front of the bus because he couldn’t deal with my mother’s death, but I knew him better than that. He would never commit suicide. It was the curse. Then a co-worker died a week later when his apartment caught fire.
So I started running. I didn’t know where I was going but I knew I had to get far away from the people that I loved. I moved from town to town and eventually from country to country, all the while, trying to avoid contact with anyone. But no matter how far I ran, I couldn’t outrun the horrific nightmares that had begun plaguing my dreams ever night, another element of my curse, causing me to be awaken each night full of terror from the unimaginable images I saw in my nightmares. I’d wake up with my heart pounding so hard that it caused my chest to physically hurt and I’d always find myself in sweat-drenched sheets. Eventually, I found myself in the city of Hispaniola in Haiti living in a small shack just south of a town called Jacmel. There I found solitude from the world and kept myself isolated from everyone except when I was forced to make an occasional trip into town for supplies where I tried very hard to avoided making contact with anyone. That is, until the day I had to save a little Haitian girl’s life.
That day, I was heading down the dry and dusty road that took me into town when I heard children screaming, not cheerful screaming but screams of horror. I bolted down the road until I came to a small lake which I had passed hundreds of times on my way to buy supplies. There, on the lake’s shore, were three young Haitian kids trying to pull a little girl out of the mouth of an alligator that was trying to pull her into the lake. Luckily, the alligator wasn’t very big in length and lacked the strength to win the tug-of-war against the three children. The battle was at a stand still, neither side given an inch in their struggle.
Without thinking, I rushed towards the frightening scene and jumped on the alligator’s back. I removed my bowie knife which I always carried with me, strapped to my side, for protection from the wild and hungry inhabitants living in the wilderness, and began stabbing the creature in its side several times. After countless punctures through its thick skin, the alligator let go of its prey and swam away.
The little girl appeared to be all right, although scared and tired from her ordeal, but I feared that her leg might have been broken so I told her friends to carry her home for I feared to touch her and condemn her to death. I followed close behind to make sure the children got the little girl to help.The little girl lived in the “slums”, which were all too prevalent all over Haiti, with her mother and her three siblings. Her little friends immediately began telling everyone what had happened. The little girl’s mom rushed to her and took her out of her friend’s arms…thanking me the whole time in her French- accented broken English for saving her daughter.
I was invited into her home, a hut of twigs and mud, where I was fed lunch while the little girl was being looked after. The mother soon joined me and told me that the little girl’s leg was not broken. She would be just fine. She then informed me that her grandmother was a “Mambo”, a spiritual priestess, and that she wanted to thank me personally. I agreed to see the Mambo and was taken into her home… a rare privilege among the believers. I was taken to a small back room where I saw an elderly woman sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by lit candles. The room had several religious-looking items hanging about the walls. The Mambo motioned for me to sit on the floor in front of her. I obliged her and joined her on the floor. The little girl’s mother sat beside me.
The priestess began speaking to me but I could not understand her. I had only learned a few “necessary” words in French since settling in Haiti and was thankful the little girl’s mother had joined us… as an interpreter.
The little girl’s mother told me that her grandmother was eternally grateful that I saved her granddaughter and wished to repay me by “reading” me. Before I could object, the Mambo grabbed my hands tightly, looked towards the ceiling, and appeared to fall into a trance while muttering strange words. Soon, however, she returned from her trance and released my hands with horror in her eyes. She began speaking again. The little girl’s mother began translating.
“She say that you are a cursed man. Evil follows you. It wants something from you. You owe it something.”
“I traded my soul for the life of my son but, when the time came to relinquish it, I refused. My cowardness ended up costing me the lives of all my loved ones.”
“She say that a bargain with the devil leads to a life full of pain and misery. No good could ever come from such a thing.”
“I had to save my son. If I could go back, I’d give up my soul gladly.”
“I feel your heart.” The Mambo said through the little girl’s mother. “I know you are a good man who did a foolish thing. I will help you.”
The priestess removed a necklace from around her own neck and placed it around mine. It looked as if it was made out of some kind of dark leather with a small cloth pouch hanging from it about the size of a silver dollar.
“This will chase away all evil spirits and protect you from any curse. Wear it at all times. As for your soul, the devil can’t take your soul away from you. It must be given to him voluntarily. But he will do his best to wear you down until he gets what he wants.”
I accepted the gift but didn’t really have any faith that it would work. I felt I was doomed to live the remainder of my life in solitude until Death came and gave my soul to the devil.
I returned home and soon fell asleep. The next morning when I awoke, I immediately realized that I had slept the whole night without having a single bad dream! It had been years since I had such a peaceful sleep. I reached for the pouch hanging against my chest and held it tight. Was there really magic in this pouch? Had it kept the demons at bay? I immediately got dressed and returned to the place where the Mambo lived just to see if she was still alive because she had touched me the day I sat in front of her. I was told by several people in the Mambo’s village that she was in perfect health. I returned for five days in a row to ask if she still lived and each time the response was the same… she was in perfect health. The necklace and its pouch of unknown contents seemed to have halted my curse.
I began testing this theory by going into town and purposefully making physical contact with a few of the shop owners and returning the next day to see if they still lived. I know it sounds like a morbid thing to do and I know it wasn’t right, but I was desperate to know if the curse was gone. After experimenting for several weeks and finding that no one I touched had died, I was convinced that I was cured. I was elated beyond anything I could describe in words. I could finally go home…back to America.
I returned to my country, found a place to rent, found a job at a mechanic shop, and eventually started dating. I sometimes would temporarily forget about my dealings with the devil until I was inevitably reminded of it by the sight or the feel of the constant ornament I wore around my neck. I grew so confident in the power of this shackle around my neck that I made a decision to start my life over again. I got married. My new wife gave me a little baby girl six months ago. My life was complete again until three nights ago.
I awoke abruptly from a familiar nightmare… one I hadn’t had in years… one of demons devouring my body in a feverish eating frenzy of blood and gore. My sheets were
soaked in sweat and my heart raced. I immediately grabbed for my necklace of protection, half expecting it to be gone, but it was still around my neck like it had been for the last several years.
I then heard a noise coming from my daughter’s room. I got out of bed without waking my wife and made my way to the next room where my daughter slept. As I walked into the room, my heart stopped and fear engulfed every fiber of my being… not fear for myself, but fear for my daughter. Leaning over her crib, illuminated by a single nightlight, was the same ominous terrifying shadow that had visited me years earlier. I somehow found my voice through the overwhelming fear and screamed at the shadow.
“LEAVE HER ALONE!”
The shadowy figure quickly turned to face me, those red glowing eyes piercing my soul… intensifying my fear. It then vanished into the darkness of the room which was immediately swallowed when my wife ran into the room and switched on the bedroom light after having heard my scream. We both ran to our daughter and found her not breathing. I immediately picked my daughter up and began CPR as my wife called 911, screaming into the phone at the dispatcher to send help immediately.
After what seemed like a life time