Cursed

John popped open a can of beer, ready to relax a bit, when he heard a knock at the door. Three aggressive bangs he recognized as the knock of his sister, Kara. He groaned and considered pretending not to be home. 

“John, I know you’re in there,” She yelled through the door. 

He rolled his eyes, unlocked the door, opened it a crack, and walked to the couch. With a huff, Kara followed him, shutting the door behind her. 

“Huh. This place is freakishly clean. Do you actually live here?” Kara walked around the living room taking it in.

“What do you want?” John sat on the middle of the couch and put the beer can to his forehead, already sensing a headache forming. 

“I’ve been calling you for days. Where’ve you been?” 

“Out to sea.” John said. He’d be a fisherman for fifteen years now, and couldn’t understand why she never seemed to take that seriously. It was good work and he loved his job. He’d rather be at work than home most days. 

“You’d think they’d have updated their technology by now, so people could communicate better.” 

He grunted. In some ways they had updated, but John liked being unreachable and having an excuse even when he was. It wasn’t a complete lie though.

“What happened to your leg?” Kara noticed the crescent shaped scar on his left calf. 

“Shark bite.” 

“Jesus! You were bit by a freakin’ shark? You never told anyone?” 

He shrugged. “You know I’ve always had bad luck.” 

She nodded. “Anyway, you missed Mom’s funeral and the reading of her will. I brought your inheritance.” 

“Nah, I don’t want anything. You keep it.” 

“John, please. Mom told me on her death bed how important it was that I make sure you get this.” 

He reached out for the envelope. When she left, he’d toss it in the basket with all the unopened letters his mom had sent him, but for now he could avoid Kara’s dramatics. John didn’t know what kind of come-to-Jesus moment his mom had in the last year of her life where she suddenly needed to reach him, but he considered it all too little, too late. He tossed the envelope beside him. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Kara whined. 

“Later.” 

“I’m worried you won’t. It might be important. Or maybe she left you money.” 

“Probably poison or some sort of curse.” 

Kara rolled her eyes. “I know you think she hated you, but she didn’t. She just hated … men, I guess? She projected, I think. It wasn’t about you.” 

“Aw, how comforting,” John said sarcastically. 

“She really wanted to see you. She changed a lot.” 

“Death does that to people. Doesn’t mean it’s real. Some last minute panic over getting into Heaven probably.” 

Kara sighed and fidgeted with the strap of her purse. “Some anonymous stranger paid for the whole funeral. I was so scared about what I would do. Things have been rough lately and you were unreachable as always. Then they told me someone took care of it. Do you think it was Dad? I mean a few years ago, when I was in the hospital for that car accident, someone paid for that too. The hospital said it was one of those pay it forward things. I’ve seen people do that with coffee at a drive through, but a hospital bill? Do you think Dad is looking out for us?” 

John knew their Dad wasn’t looking out for them, but it didn’t harm anyone to let Kara think what she wanted. If she tried to find their Dad, she’d find out he was dead. Dad couldn’t harm her. It might save him an awkward conversation. That didn’t mean he actively wanted to encourage delusion either. “No, I don’t.” 

She rubbed her hands on her pants, and looked around the room. There wasn’t much to look at. He didn’t exactly decorate. “I worry about you, John. Maybe you should get a job on land, so you have a chance to meet someone.”

That was the last thing he wanted. He’d like more time at sea. There was a freedom in the waves and soul soothing quality to the salty air. He’d rather never be on land. 

“Kara, I sort of have plans today.” 

She nodded. Then smiled brightly. “A date, maybe?” 

“Sure.” He stood up to lead her towards the door. He never dated. In different ways, both of his parents convinced him it was better to avoid that whole thing all together. Being only human, he had moments of weakness where he thought about it or longed for something like that, but he bottled any urge down well. 

“John, please open the inheritance. It’s important. Please keep in touch. I know you don’t particularly like me either, but I’m all you have.” 

“Kara, I don’t dislike you.” He knew she deserved better than that but it was all he could give for now. He really didn’t dislike her, but he did find her difficult to be around. It wasn’t all her fault. Some of it was her being obnoxious, but mostly the discomfort came from her connection to all he’d been through. 

After she finally left, he paced around the apartment. The inheritance envelope found its place with the unread letters. He felt like tiny insects were crawling over his skin and biting him. Afraid he might pull out all his hair or wear down the floorboards to nothing, he decided to go to the local bar for a while. Maybe the alcohol and noise and stress of being surrounded by people would numb the other feelings. 

He found his favorite bar stool open, which wasn’t really luck so much as almost all of them were open. It was a bit early. He ordered a beer and talked with the bartender. Then a beautiful woman sat at the stool next to him. She had long wavy hair of an unnatural burgundy color, and a very short, very tight black dress with long lace sleeves. 

“Hey, handsome. Mind if I join you?” She asked in a light, whispery voice. Her lips were such a bright red, they appeared to glow. 

He shrugged. “Why not?” 

The bartender raised his eyebrows at John and then smiled at the woman, asking what he could get for her. She ordered a whiskey. 

“My name’s Ivy.” 

“Huh.” Hearing that reminded him of Poison Ivy from the Batman comics he read as a kid. “John.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand with her palm down like she expected him to kiss it. Since that felt odd to him, he lifted his to hers and tried to turn it into a handshake. She giggled and held his hand, tighter than he expected. He pulled away but she gripped down harder and pulled it back. “Can I read your palm for you?” 

He pulled his hand away hard. “No. I’m not into all that stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Her blue eyes twinkled. 

John’s mom had been into all this witchy stuff and the last thing he wanted was to meet a woman like his mother. 

“You’ve been cursed.” Ivy said. 

“What?”

She looked at him with curiosity crinkling her eyes. Then she laughed. “Let me guess. You think you’re just a guy with unusually bad luck.” 

“Alright, you have a good night, Ivy. Maybe drink some water.” John faked a smile. Then he waved to the bartender. “I’ll take care of my tab later.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Stay out of trouble, kid.” The bartender smiled. 

Ivy put a hand on John’s chest to stop him from leaving. “Aw, don’t leave now, handsome. You’d be very interesting to get to know better.”  

John stepped away from her hand. “I kind of doubt that.” 

He didn’t know if it was the lighting, but her face looked much different at this angle. What seemed like soft features a moment ago, now looked like sharp angles instead. Her once flirty smile now looked taunting. 

The salty ocean air and calm sound of the water lapping against the shore, put his mind at ease. The bright beacon of the lighthouse across the harbor called to him. He decided to take the rowboat out. The moonlight created a shimmering white path to follow. The focus and strength of using the oars helped him fall into a rhythm and forget about the events of the day. Everything around him was calm and quiet. 

When he got to the lighthouse, he pulled the boat ashore. Then walked up the rocks to lean against the lighthouse base. He pulled a package of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one up. Then rested a small handgun he kept with him by his side. A few weeks ago, his crew was attacked by pirates, so now he felt more on edge. He knew they existed in some capacity, but these were more like the traditional storybook pirates. The events of his life had always been highly unusual. He rolled his eyes about the thought, leaned back his head and exhaled the smoke, long and slow, towards the moon. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of small waves crashing against the rocks. 

A noise like something large being dragged from the water and the waves growing much larger and crashing harder, snapped his eyes open. Emerging slowly from the water, a monster unlike anything he had ever seen grew taller and taller until it was nearly as tall as the lighthouse. An esca lure glowed brightly at the end of an illicium attached to the creature's head. Large, sharp fangs that appeared unable to even fit fully in the creature’s mouth, looked like they could chop through him in one crunch. Its black eyes looked similar to lobster eyes and shined bright in the moonlight. The creature stood on long, spindly legs like a massive spider crab. Its long worm-like body swayed slightly as it shifted on its legs. 

How could a creature so large exist and never once be mentioned in any of the stories he’d heard? John’s stomach dropped and a light dizziness spun everything around. How was he going to get away from something like this? The creature tilted its head towards him and leaned closer. Its teeth snapped together with a sickening sound. John aimed his gun and fired where he assumed the creature’s heart might be. The creature swayed back, raised a long leg and jabbed it towards John. John rolled to the side and the leg landed between rocks. The creature cried and pulled back, but its leg was stuck. John glanced up and realized there was a hole in the creature’s chest oozing liquid. Maybe his shot hit. He aimed for the head and fired again, but the creature moved. The esca lure’s light went out and he figured he must have hit it. The creature stumbled around, seeming disoriented. It jabbed another leg at John. John ran to dodge it, but felt cold air hit his back as his shirt ripped open. The creature cried. John spun around to see this leg had gotten stuck too.

He ran to his row boat and grabbed some rope. If he could keep the creature stuck, he might have time to escape. The creature looked focused on freeing its legs. John went to work tying rope around a heavy boulder. Another leg jabbed towards him. He ducked behind the rock, but felt pain pierce his back shoulder. The sharp edge of the leg cut him. John spotted a pile of fishing nets on top of rocks by the water. It must have washed up onto shore. He ran over, hoping the creature would jab at him and get caught. It was a risky move since it brought him closer to the creature and the water. The rocks were slick and he almost lost his balance a couple of times. It worked. A leg jabbed towards him and got caught in the netting. The netting was tangled in the rocks and seaweed. Three legs were stuck now. John fired the gun a few more times. He didn’t know how much the bullets hurt the creature or if they were doing anything at all. He leapt into the row boat and pushed hard. He needed the headstart. Each row reminded him that the creature had sliced his back. He wasn’t sure how deep or long the cut was. He knew he didn’t have time to worry about it. Soon the burn of tired muscles helped distract him.

When he was almost to the docks, a strange wave like the wake of a jetski headed towards him. Luckily it gave his boat a hard push in the right direction. He jumped out of the boat and scrambled up the rocks as the creature’s head and then body raised from the water. A loud foghorn sounded and the creature sank back underneath the water. John wasn’t sure why, but it didn't matter. He ran as fast as he could as far from the water as possible. Though he couldn't shake the feeling it'd be waiting for his return. Cars drove by that yelled profanities out the window and laid on their horns. He ignored all of it and kept running. 

When he got home, he felt beyond exhausted. Ivy’s words about being cursed kept playing through his head. He walked over to the box of unopened letters, grabbed the inheritance envelope and went to his mother’s tombstone. Somehow it all felt connected. He wanted answers or closure, or something. He didn’t know if any of this would bring that, but it was all he could think of. 

His sister thought he missed their mom’s funeral, but he had been there. He remained hidden behind a tree in the distance. He’d even brought flowers to her grave once after. He wanted to tell her everything he had on his mind, but he got choked up and then attacked by a murder of crows.

He sat in front of her grave, took a swig of beer, and opened the envelope. Inside he found a vial of liquid and a letter. His mom gave him a vial like this to bring to his father once. It didn’t end well for Dad. As he began to read the words, an eerie glow caught his attention. The spirit of his mother solidified in front him. 

“My dear son. I’m so terribly sorry for what I’ve done and I need to make it right. When you were a baby, I put a curse on you. Things with your father were a nightmare and I was so scared you’d end up just like him. It wasn’t fair to make that judgment then. You were such a sweet boy. I know you’ve done little things quietly for us for years, like paying your sister’s hospital bills. I don’t want you to suffer anymore. If you drink this vial, the curse will be lifted.” She reached out her ghostly arm and John backed away. 

“You put a curse on me?” It made sense, but still sounded unbelievable to hear. 

“I was so angry and bitter. I actually put a lot of curses on a lot of people. Some deserved them, but you didn’t. I see that now. Please, drink the vial. Let me make it right.” 

“How can I trust you? What if this is like what you made me give Dad?” 

She nodded her head. Her eyes were empty, hollow sockets and her face didn’t look how he remembered. “I really hate that I’ve done this to us. Sweet, sweet boy. I’ve been a fool. Unfortunately, the curse will only get worse until you drink that vial.” 

Tears dampened his cheeks. A part of him wanted to be able to fix things, and he thought he’d never get that chance once she died. Now that she was here, something didn’t feel right though. It was like getting a scam email. At a quick glance it looks authentic enough, but the urgency feels suspicious and when you look closer the facade crumbles in the details. He’d heard ghosts are formed when people died with unfinished business. He shivered. Is this still just all about her? 

After all they’d been through, how could she expect him to trust her? He could drink the vial, and realize she lied. It could harm him. It could kill him. It could do some other weird thing like entangle him to her forever. If he didn’t drink it, he might find out she spoke the truth. He might guarantee himself a life of bad luck, knowing he had the way out. It wasn’t an easy choice. Both options were risky. All he wanted was for this to be over. To move on. 

“Mom, I’ll always care about you. I can forgive everything in time. I even understand it somewhat. I know you were hurt. But I need to be in control of my life now. I need you to let me go and for me to let you go too. I hope whatever this does, you’ll honor that.” John opened the vial. 

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you need me to, dear. Just please drink that vial.” Her smile made him shudder.  

 He poured the liquid into the grass. His mom screeched like a banshee and lunged towards him. He jumped back and she burst into ghostly pale flames and then vanished.

He heard a twig snap behind him and pulled out his gun, ready to fight the next monster. He knew he could keep fighting the curse until he was able to find his own solution. His own potion maybe. There had to be a way out that he could choose himself.