HANDLE THIS ONE

This strange story began with 3 lines and I was locked out. I couldn't find a way to follow through for 2 days and finally closed with one that didn't really please me. I documented and numbered  it for my files and relaxed with a TV. one hour documentary  show. It was a medical story of people becoming physically similar to my character and what can now be done about it. I was fascinated,  stunned, and think I may have missed my calling.   

 

She’s dangerous. Her body and her walk stop traffic. Horns honk. When the cars pass her, they turn, see her face and just keep on going. Something is strange. I am taunted, teased and walk faster to get well ahead of Miss Gorgeous and when I do, I turn and look at her. Either she is having some kind of goofy fun or she is a freakin’ freak, an anomaly. Her nose is long and her salt and pepper beard is longer.
My mouth dries up like a windblown desert. I cannot accept what I am seeing.

 

‘Get away from here,’ I say to me but she/he puts her hand out to stop me from running away. In a gravelly tone ‘it’ says, ‘Sonny, did you have a  good look?’ Feet move, I command and they take me across the street. This is not the way I expected the morning to be and mentally lecture myself. ‘You were too excited. You were too fast. You were rude. AND you are a big jerk.’ Eyes straight ahead, I reach the curb. ’Snowbeard’ taps me on my back and starts to talk even though it must be clear to him that I want to get away. ‘Let me tell you something, Sonny. You aren’t the only one shocked. If you had seen me when I looked in the mirror yesterday, you might have thought you were going off the deep end. ‘

 

He goes on. ‘ I need help now or I will be dead in a few minutes. I’ll turn around and let a car kill me, even though the driver will be punished for it.’ There is no way I can avoid the passing cars slowing down, honking, waving, and rushing on, hoping not to be stopped at a red light. As much as I’d rather this he be a she, looking into his sad face, I must accept what I see and ask why, when, did this happen. He explains how distraught he has been for weeks, having learned the wife he loves so dearly has been having affairs for years. Stopping to catch his breath he asks my name. ‘Jerry, Jerry Kahn.’ Ok. Jerry, Jerry Kahn, I’m a peaceful man but won’t kill my wife. I know I can’t do that but would like her to hurt, hurt as badly as I do. How can I hurt her?’

 

There are a few East Indians who live in our neighborhood. Mr. Abdullah told me he can put a strong hex on her. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said, ‘bring me the entrails of a chicken, two twigs from a thorny cactus and five brown shiny stones. I will fix her good.’ I go to his house with the chicken entrails, cactus thorns and brown stones. Abdullah puts them in a large black metal bowl and chants strange words. My entire body gets cold and numb. The fakir leans over my shivering body, removes my check for $500 from my jacket and tells me to go home. As I walk out of his door, he gives a deep cough and explains. ‘Your wife is going to be punished when next the moon rises.’

 

It pours for 3 days and nights. Surely the moon rises  but I can’t see it until the sky clears. The moon shines almost as bright as the sun only white. ‘Mr. Kahn. Look again at me. Abdullah’s hex is on me. I am being punished and I did no harm. ‘ I listen but am hand tied. Yes, something is around my wrists. My robe belt is tangled. I reach to free myself and only have half of our blanket. I gather my half around me and get a swift kick in my rear.

 

I wake fully, hug my wife and fall back to sleep.