But he didn’t grow out of it. The voices got louder, and more voices seemed to join in. In high school, he was the weird kid who always seemed to be spaced out, watching the blank spaces in the room.
In college, he had to room by himself because roommates got tired of him yelling at emptiness. He was called in for counseling several times, and the endless drug tests proved he wasn’t taking anything.
Then the voices really got loud. It wasn’t just words but imagery that flooded his brain and caused him to listen. Constant flashes of horror and heinous acts.
“How do I make this right?” he asked over and over again. None of the voices seemed capable of telling him that. So, he went about trying to do some family research, and the discovery only left him in more pain.
“Did you know about this?” he asked his parents. His father stared at him, then back at his mother.
“I knew some. I knew that they owned plantations and most likely owned slaves.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me that?” he asked.
“Why? Why would I tell you of the sins of my father’s fathers? It can’t possibly help you in any way.”
“You don’t get it, do you? We are paying for those sins. All those voices we hear, and yes, I know that you hear them too. All those voices are the victims. We have to make this right!”
“Bennett, most of those properties are long gone. There’s nothing there any longer. We can’t make it right.”
“That’s what he’s hoping for, you know. Our ancestor. The loudest one of all.” His father’s eyes went wide, and he just shook his head. “You knew who it was, and you didn’t acknowledge it. I’m trying to get rid of this anchor, this weight around my throat and yours too. Is this why you only had one child?”
“Partly,” said his mother. “Your father was going through a particularly terrible time after you were born. The voices were louder.”
“Wonderful. That tells me I can’t have a life until this is settled. Thanks for that.”
He’d left their home and set out to find a way. The voices didn’t stop, but it was the voice of the first Hampton that truly sent chills up his spine.
“Don’t be so weak! They’re nothing but animals.”
“Stop! They were human beings who deserved to be treated as such. You make me sick that I’m related to you!”
The cackling laughter made his skin crawl as he curled into a ball on the sofa. It was never-ending. He wanted to end his own life but knew that it wouldn’t help those trapped by his ancestors’ crimes. He had to find a way to help them all.
By the grace of God, he’d slept for more than five hours. It was the most continuous sleep time he’d gotten in almost a year. When he woke, he was determined to get to the tree and tear it down.
Not wanting his men anywhere around him, just in case the voices came at him full tilt, he walked the dozen blocks to the Square, praying that the old woman would be alone.
If he had to, he’d carry her out of that tree and down the ladder to safety. He didn’t want to kill the woman. He just needed to kill the tree and burn the Square to the ground.
“Easy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Grover, do you know the name Nel?” asked Gaspar, sitting with his mother in the tree.
“Nel? No, I don’t know that name. Why do you ask?”
“We saw an entry in an old store log that we thought might be a clue as to who placed the curse on the Hampton family.”
“I wish I could help you, but I don’t remember that name at all.”
“It’s alright, baby. The boys are gonna keep tryin’ to figure this out. Don’t you worry,” said Irene. Grover nodded, then looked off toward the cathedral.
“He’s here.”
“Who’s here?” asked Gaspar. He tapped his comms to be sure the others were listening.
“Hampton. He’s here. Alone.” Grover disappeared, and sure enough, Hampton came around the corner of the cathedral and walked through the gates toward the tree.
