Behind them the sky was black, but ahead at the horizon it was pale blue which adjoined the black in a band of indigo overhead.
His friends were writers, Theo and Martha, visiting from Nevada, not often around the ocean, so they had all risen early, and set out to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic. The sand felt cool on their bare feet as they headed across the beach.
As they approached the water they found lying in the sand a small wax figure. Designed as a candle, with a wick on top, it had obviously been burnt for a while, the top of the head melted away. A female figure, there were pins stuck into the eyes, breasts, and genitals.
I wonder what she did to incur such hatred, said Theo, picking it up.
I’d probably leave it where it is, suggested their host, Paul.
A mother or daughter, maybe, said Martha. A friend, involved with a lover, most likely. A sister possibly. Material for a tragic romantic story definitely.
Okay, begins Theo — she’s a young woman visiting from . . . maybe Egypt. Here for a couple weeks with her sister. Local friends take them to the amusement park here in Coney Island. His name is Amon, originally from Cairo, he runs the Cyclone; for Shakespearean effect. His shift ends and the three enjoy each other’s company. Contact information exchanged. The next day he calls and invites her sister for a date at Coney Island. Our heroine incites the name of Maahes, lion-headed god of war, and recalls the occult supply store near where they were staying. She then takes the subway out here and what you see is what she did that night while her sister was riding the Thunderbolt a short distance away.
Not exactly Pulitzer prize material I’m afraid, Martha smiles, but with some work maybe a young adult best seller.
Looking at the figure, he continues. Well, the next morning the sister gets very ill. Rushed to hospital. While Amon is visiting her in her room, our leading lady feels guilty and tells her New York hosts about what she did. Not superstitious themselves they help with an online search regarding an antidote and that afternoon she is back on the beach. The figure still there, she wraps it in white cloth, with an orange, sea salt, and some coins and places it in the ocean; asking for the negative energy to be taken away. Sister gets well. Not sure how the thing with Amon works out.
So then, Martha concludes, if we sit off to the side we should see her approaching later in the day with her white cloth and offerings.
Paul cuts in — hey, I’ve got a proposal. Just remembered a phrase in Arabic that a neighbor once taught me — something that might apply here. Irmee wara dahrak — it means throw it behind your back.
Theo places the figure back just as Helios bursts from the horizon filling the day with dazzling gold.
Twenty-four of thirty-one stories — 500 words or less, written one-per-day during December 2018 — The Hunt & Peck Parables PatchWord Quilt™©.
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.