Novel Name : The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 35


Her dreams were lucid and clear, like treading through crystal water on a bright, sunny day. Lynnette
could see for miles within the dark and quiet forest before she came to a waterfall that was heavily
illuminated by the heavenly full moon. In all her unbridled nakedness she stepped onto the muddy
walkway that led to the front of the falls and watched as the rushing water cascaded down in front of
her. She, along with the falls was lit up by the moon's potent energy. She looked down at her hands
and legs that appeared so smooth and weightless. Every time she moved it felt as if she were levitating
across the logs on the ground and in front of the glistening falls.

Just as soon as she made it to the middle of the walkway, Lynnette could hear something right behind
her. It was splashing about in the water and snarling. She turned around in a calm manner to see the
beast lurking before her. Its glowing eyes and salivating fangs shined in the moon's light, and yet, as
close as it drew, Lynnette couldn't find it within herself to be afraid. Instead of backing away she simply
stood still in the middle of the walkway and watched with sullen eyes the creature stalk her down and
growl as its hulking frame entered underneath the moonlight's awesome radiance.

"Shit!" Lynnette abruptly awoke from her evening rest.

In the darkness she gawked around to see Senada lying on a mat in the corner, while Cusha remained
in her original Indian-Style position up against the wall fast asleep. Her head was lunged backwards to
where all Lynnette could see was the woman's neck. Clearing the sweat away from her face and neck
Lynnette got up from off the floor and listened as the rain tapped against the hut's grain. Still clothed in
her skimpy, black skirt the woman got up and stood perfectly still in the middle of the floor. She listened
as the two old women snored away in the night, as though they had no worries at all. Lynnette couldn't
help but to stare down at Cusha in refined wonder. Within the woman's body was such a warm and
familiar soul.

Upon any other occasion she would have been absolutely terrified of such an occurrence, or at least
seized the advantage of sitting down and chatting with her about fond childhood remembrances. But



Lynnette had no inkling of what was and was not real anymore. She cared no more about the past or
the present, and as far as the future was concerned, what would happen would eventually happen. She
knew that an end was drawing closer and closer with every passing day. It just ate away at her as to
whose end would follow.

Lynnette couldn't tell if she wanted to care or not about her own life at that point. Yes, there was still
Isaiah, but her will was rapidly depleting. Every so often she would consider his life without her being in
it, and how much better off he could possibly be. But then again, as usual, there was Arthur.

Lynnette sulked within herself before turning and heading for the door. She carefully opened it and
closed it before walking out into the tepid rain that fell so softly upon body. Her bare feet squished and
slipped across the muddy ground before she came to the trail that led downwards. It was getting to the
point where she couldn't tell whether it was Arthur or Isaac hunting her down. Just recalling Isaac's face
was haunting enough, but knowing that his spirit could still be lingering about in the world always
seemed to make her bones ache.

Ever since arriving in Jamaica she had managed to keep the memory of Isaac deep within the darkest
corners of her mind. But she soon began to realize that there was always a cause and an effect. It was
because of him that she was in the country at all. And then, there she was. No matter what, Lynnette
could not cease thinking about him. Even when she was with Jose the man's image appeared in front
of her. And just like Jose, Isaac was gone all over again.

Before she knew it, Lynnette had reached the very tip of the trail. There was no moon to speak of in the
sky, nor were there any animals creeping about in the wilderness. It was just Lynnette standing in front
of a still and smelly pond. She turned back to see darkness behind her. The fact that she had even left
the hut in the middle of the night didn't seem to weight too fondly upon her. And yes, she was well
aware that she was wide awake. Just as soon as the woman saw fit to reverse course and head back,
within the water something began to bubble and stir. Unlike in her dreams, Lynnette was afraid, which



was why she started to back away from the pond. At that juncture it could have been almost anything
creeping up out of the water.

As she was about to turn and run away Lynnette spotted a form slowly lurk from out of the pond. It was
a person, but their face was too dark to see clearly. Lynnette wanted to run but her legs had become
immobile. Much like all of the ungodly happenings throughout the year, what was coming at her had to
be witnessed with stunned eyes.

The figure was soon followed by what looked to be a female. Her face as well was hidden by the veil of
darkness. Soon, one by one there came more and more people out of the water, including little boys
and girls. All of them were just lifelessly plodding through the forest in all their unbeknownst nakedness.

Lynnette's entire body wasn't even shaking. All she did was stand and watch as the wretched souls
carried on as if she weren't there and they had another destination to venture towards.

How many of the souls were marching was unknown, but without any words spoken amongst them
they all exited the water and in a single file formation entered into the immensity of the nighttime forest
until they could no longer be seen by the naked eye.

Just like that, Lynnette's ridged body simply dropped to the muddy ground where it laid completely
unconscious.

***

It was day or night; no one could tell any longer. Lynnette, a muddy mess from head to toe, sat on the
floor limp and lifeless in front of Cusha who was steadily braiding the young woman's tough hair by
candlelight inside the tiny hut. Lynnette's eyes were listless while her mouth endlessly hung open.
Cusha was humming a tune, but inside Lynnette's stagnant mind was black fog. Whatever melody was
coming from the old woman was falling on deaf ears.



"I'm seeing the last of my days in this world, dear." Cusha muttered as she twisted Lynnette's hair in a
bunch. "Take the boat and go while you still can. I can't be here much longer."

But Lynnette remained motionless on the floor, almost as if her bones had all but given up. Had it not
been for Cusha pressing her knees against her back the young lady would have collapsed completely
to the floor.

"Take me to the water. Take me to the water. Take me to the water to be baptized." Cusha gently sang
above Lynnette's head. "Go to the water, child." She spoke. "Go to the water and leave this place
forevermore. God will be with you."

"Isaac." Lynnette's voice emotionlessly whispered. "Isaac...Isaac."

The woman's inert eyes had no focus or attention left inside of them. They were just there inside their
respective sockets, along with the remainder of her body that hung like dead flesh waiting to be buried.

***

The rain sputtered down upon the forest as Cusha, from just a few feet back, watched with woeful eyes
Lynnette on both knees in front of the pig pen. The young, broken woman had been there for hours,
getting wet and blindly fiddling with the wandering swine that only enjoyed the frivolity of their muddy
terrain.

Cusha stood in place while getting soggier with every passing second. Lynnette appeared like a wet
rodent at that stage. Her hair that Cusha had braided was falling apart, and her already tattered clothes
were becoming mere shreds that just happened to barely be covering only private parts; the remaining
portions of her body, like arms, legs and her feet were completely exposed to the elements. The
woman was progressively becoming a part of the grim surroundings she had immersed herself in for
the past few months.



Cusha listened closely as Lynnette muttered little babblings at the pigs, namely at one that she was
petting so gently and giving all the attention in the world to. She couldn't hear exactly what she was
saying to the animals, but Cusha could tell that her words, though incoherent, were soothing, as if she
were consoling a child of sorts. Cusha observed a little bit longer before eventually turning and heading
back up the trail that led to Senada's hut. Even before she could make it to the front door Senada came
out of the hut with her large butcher knife in hand and parka over her head.

With her face pointed towards the trail, Senada said, "I take it ya girl still out dere?"

Not bothering to wipe her wet face dry, Cusha mournfully replied, "Yes...she is."

Senada's eyes stared off at the distance before she turned towards Cusha's direction. "You've come a
mighty long way to see your child. I could sense your long distance ever since you first arrived at me
doorstep."

Cusha turned to the old woman and simply smirked, "My distance is never too far. I was merely
awakened, and I followed."

Senada tightened her parka around her frail old head before saying, "How long before she meets you
in eternity?

Cusha wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold and sighed, "She hasn't eaten in days."

Senada only dropped her head and took a step out into the rain. "Dis forest speaks every single night.
My people left me and traveled on de other evening. Dey left me behind." She then poked her head
from out of her parka. "I can still smell dem in de air." She continued. "You can smell de air in dis forest,
it still stinks. Dey eat everyting in sight; dey witches and sorcerers." Senada then drew close to Cusha.
"Tell me...do dey speak of my people in eternity? Of my sons," she whispered.



Cusha didn't even bother to respond, she just stared off back down the trail for as far as her eyes would
allow.

"I figure so." Senada relented as she carried on out into the rain. "Tell de girl dat her hours are growing
faint! As are mine!"

Cusha watched as Senada withdrew from her presence and shuffled down another path within the
forest before vanishing into the bushes. She then turned back to the trail. She couldn't see Lynnette
from where she was standing, but she knew good and well that the woman hadn't moved in hours. And
the remaining hours were racing by at a lighting pace.

"You are a good man, Isaac." Cusha looked down at the soaked ground. "But...it is time."


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Read The Death of 1977 (Book 3) Chapter 35 By Shawn A. Jenkins

The Death of 1977 (Book 3) Chapter 35 Updated Here. The Death of 1977 (Book 3) Author Shawn A. Jenkins update Chapter 35,He whispered sweet nothings into her ear,Their love was a painting, vibrant and full of life,Their love was a sunrise, bringing light to their darkest days,With a gentle caress, he wiped away her doubts,Their love was a dance, graceful and timeless,Every heartbeat was a reminder of their connection, The Death of 1977 (Book 3) Has the latest chapter been updated?

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