The Stranger

Chapter 10

I think I must be going mad so I go to visit my crazy aunt the one who lives in the woods, hoping at least to get some papers graded.  She is elated to see me, but can immediately tell something is wrong.  She says it is my aura, and I realize that this woman who I have avoided for so long, maybe be the only one is crazy enought to understand me when I say I believe in curses.  I tell her the whole story, from start to finish.  She makes me tea, burns sage, shakes her head, sighs, and looks at me with that sad look telling me its good to feel and that she knows how I feel.  She has never been in love with anyone other than her cat she tells me because she doesn't need a man to complete her.  I laugh when she says this, rememember how I once told Miranda that is exactly what I needed.  When I tell her about you, Jacob, the Poetry Boy, who for all I know commit suicide or turned into dust because he never did again show up for class.  She she says none of it matters.  But when I tell her about Lorenzo, the connection I felt with him, his Harley, his laugher, and his tattoo, she says, Now we are getting somewhere.  Then I tell her about seeing you, and you saying that he held part of the curse, and she says, You are shitting me right?

No, I say, it's true.

You broke up with this hot, intelligent, dude with a sense of humor for this ghost from your past, promsing that you're be happy sometime in the future, but who meanwhile uses this curse idea to keep you tethered to him like a some sad slave.  You are right, honey.  You are cursed.  But you know somthing else, love plum, you don't need a witchdoctor to break this curse.  You need to call up this Lorenzo, ask him to forgive you for being so bat-shit crazy, and hope he gives you another shot.

I want to laugh, but I am feeling something too sad inside to manage it. 

What is it, baby?

I can't do that.

Why, she asks. Did your phone get cut off for lack of payment?

No, Aunty, I can't because I know I'm not strong enough to say no.  And with these words, the tears flow, and through them I can see a vision of you, and you are naked, standing there, frail, Christlike in the rain.  I can see that you are crying too, and I want to go to you, but I can't.  You are gone, and I am crying in the middle of a cabin in the forest that smells like sage, and I've got papers to grade, and responsibilies to tend to.  The first words that come to me when I wake up from my trance are the words written on Lorenzo's arm, Carpe Diem, Sieze the Day, and suddenly, with the clarity of Winter sunlight through tall trees, I know what these are the words I was looking for.