Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Dark man on a dark road

If you have been reading my blog for a while then you will recall that my mom was a witch when I was a young child. Perhaps you remember that I was told once upon a time that my family, the Native American side, was known as having communication with the spirits. And there is the other side of the family that could be considered "a bit touched (not sure if that means gifted or crazy as it could go either way every time I have heard it at family reunions).

My oldest brother and a couple close friends are the only people I have ever told about this. Incident regarding my mother's involvement with the coven. It is the only part that I have clear memory of her past directly impacting me. It was scary and caused me some paranoia for a several years... Actually until after I lived in Europe for a few years. Being that far away made me feel like it was all behind me and I have not had any other incidents since those years away.

I was fourteen and at home by myself. It was night time during late Summer just a few weeks before school was scheduled to start. The rains had just came pounding through a few hours before. I had opened the windows to let the cooling rain-tinted breeze clear the humidity from our small house.
I was reading a book in the quiet and I heard a car stop down on the blacktop road at the end of our driveway. This happened once in a while when people did not know the family or they were afraid to back out of our driveway on to a road with no lights and a hill obscuring the view of oncoming traffic.
I heard the car turnoff and wondered who it could be. I walked to the door facing the road and looked out the screen. I did not recognize the car. Nobody emerged. I saw a lighter flame up and a man inside light a cigarette. He looked my direction while taking a long drag from his smoke. The red ember illuminated the rodent features of a man I immediately disliked and distrusted.

My heart sped up and I felt the sour iciness of sweat slide down my back. I went into the next room and grabbed a 12-gauge pump shotgun. We rarely took chances and I had been taught to shoot at a young age. I kept the shotgun to my side, not intending to use it unless I had too. When I came back to the screen door, the man was half standing and leaning his narrow butt on his trunk, still smoking.
He called out in an easy tone, "Hey, Jay. Your mom home?"
I didn't answer.
"A course she's not. If anybody was there but the baby of your family, they'd be holding that shotgun and not you." He took another drag and flicked his cigarette into the road, "Why don't yuns come out here so we can talk?"
"Because I don't know you. Why don't yuns just leave and come back when my parents are home?"
"I'm here to talk to you."
My heart ratcheted up a few more beats per minute. My hands were slick. So much so, I was afraid I would drop the shotgun. I brought it up across my chest and gripped it more tightly. In my youthful ignorance, I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the porch.
I cleared my throat, "I don't even know you. What do you need me for?"
"Your momma and I used to be in a group together. Way back when, she used to say you were the one that she had the most hope for."
"She always says that because I'm good in school," I said, "I really think you should leave and come back later so you can talk to my dad."
"I don't need your dad. Me and my coven need you. Your momma said you'd be good to have on the team and that had to be ten years ago. Hell, maybe even more," he said, "Hell, I can tell she was right from way over here and the few times I have watched you up at the Wal-Mart."

I wasn't sure who this guy was but I knew what a coven was and I knew how he was acquainted with my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. We were still going to church at that time. Only on Sundays by this point and not the three or four days a week from the previous years. So as far as I was concerned, he was evil.
I raised the gun to my shoulder and shouted, "I don't want your coven. You just get out of here or I'll shoot you in your balls!"
"Alright, alright. No need to act like a big wuss. You just tell your momma that John stopped by and he's looking to grow his circle."
He stood there for a minute and chuckled a couple times. I still think he was contemplating coming up to the house. He didn't. He shuffled back to his car and climbed inside. He peeled out on the wet pavement and disappeared over the hill.

I never told my mom about this. If she happens to read it here... She may or may not remember John and any of her dealings with him. She had a stroke a few years back and it impacted many of her memories.
Part of me hopes John is gone from this Earth and I will never see him again. There has been a few times, years ago, that I thought I saw him or worried he was following me. But that is all behind me now and that's where it will stay.

Until next time... READ!

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