Post by afghanbound on Jun 17, 2013 9:38:59 GMT
John let the water fall off his face, opened his eyes and looked at the man staring back at him through the mirror. It wasn’t the man he remembered. It seemed like the lines had appeared overnight, and the handsome baby face he had been blessed with was replaced with toughened, sun dried leather. He reached over and grabbed a towel, briskly rubbing his face dry, half hoping he would erase some of the lines.
He finished buttoning his shirt as he left the bathroom and grabbed his tie off the back of his chair. He stood in front of the vanity mirror to make sure his outfit was straight. He was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, a black tie, and his black jacket was lying on his bed. It was the kind of thing one would wear to a funeral.
His wife thought it was morbid. He thought it was practical.
He finished straightening himself, did a once over, then grabbed his jacket and left the room. Company would start to arrive any minute, and it wouldn’t be good if he was late to his own party.
***
His wife was in the kitchen preparing the last of the food for the party. She looked up when he walked in. “Well don’t you look nice, in a morbid sort of way,” she said.
John smiled at her with his trademark half-smile and picked up the nearest bowl.
“Where would you like this, dear?” he asked.
“Over on the server, next to the finger sandwiches.”
He had just placed the item down when the doorbell rang. The first guest had arrived for his 40th Birthday Party.
It was his Uncle Frank. At 90 years old, he was feisty as could be. He moved pretty good for his age, only needing a cane to help with stairs. “Dressed for a funeral, I see. Practical, if not morbid.” He made his way inside and undid his overcoat. “You know, John, I beat that curse and so can you. There is one in every generation that survives, and your brother, God rest his soul, already succumbed.”
The “curse” he was referring to was the 40 year curse that had plagued his family for three generations. His grandfather, all his uncles, his father and his brother had all mysteriously died on their 40th birthdays. His grandfather had drowned in the bathtub. His uncle John, who he was named for, was killed in a hunting accident, his other uncle simply disappeared, and his own father had been killed in a car accident.
His brother, the most recent victim to the curse, died when his plane crashed into the ocean just under three years ago. His Uncle Frank was the only one to survive past 40, and his survival was just as mysterious as some of the deaths.
“I’m not so sure, Uncle Frank. Gramps died with just two hours left in the day, and he set the precedent. I have a full five hours left. Anything can happen.”
“Stay inside and stay out of the tub and you will be just fine, my boy.” Frank put his hand on John’s shoulder then moved over to the easy chair and sat down. “You know, I was careful all day, and that’s why I survived. You be careful and you will live another 50 years yourself.”
John let out a half chuckle/half sigh, “Well, I’m hoping. Make yourself and home, Uncle Frank. I need to help Lisa with the food.”
***
By eight o’clock, the party was in full swing. It was not a blowout by any means, but their house was packed to capacity. John did enjoy being at the center of all that attention, though he could not help but keep one eye on the clock.
His younger sister and his wife had put together a video, and quite an entertaining one at that, which chronicled his life thus far. It included some grainy home movies from his childhood and high school. Stills from his college years, and some stills and video from his time in the Navy.
He had been involved in the first gulf war, Operation Desert Storm, stationed on a cruiser that fired cruise missiles to soften up the defense so planes could go in unhindered. His ship had actually hit a mine and he lost some good shipmates. He joked that the only reason he survived is so he could reach forty.
The video did not go into the mine hit, but stressed the “steel beach picnics” and crew bar-b-ques when the ship was in port. His wife and sister actually did a pretty good job at putting things together and the video was well received by both John and the guests.
“I could not think of a better present,” he said, as he kissed his wife on the forehead.
They moved on the presents. That was what his son, John Jr., or Johnny (called that so they would not get confused) was waiting for. Johnny eagerly helped his father open his series of “over the hill” presents and other gag gifts. There was not a single practical gift there, but it was all in good fun.
***
Between the video, the gifts, the food and general conversation, the evening flew by. When the clock struck 10:30, the party was still in full swing. The guests had broken up into smaller groups by this time, but all of them were still there.
John was no longer the center of attention, and took the opportunity to sit and regain his bearings. Just as he got comfortable, his Uncle Frank approached.
“Hey John, I haven’t given you your present yet. Come on and I’ll show you what I got.”
John looked at his watch: 10:40. If he could stay in his chair for another one hour and twenty minutes, he would be safe.
Frank read his mind. “Come on, you have already beat your grampa. You have survived longer than anyone else. I promise we will not leave the house. What could possibly happen?”
Reluctantly, John got out of the chair and followed his uncle to their closed in porch. Frank closed the door, placed a wooden box on the shelf, opened it, and pulled out a stainless steel Beretta .40 caliber pistol. “Happy Birthday,” he said.
“Frank! You know how Lisa feels about those! Besides, what am I going to do with a gun?”
“You’re going to kill yourself.”
John was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“You, are, going, to kill yourself.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because it is your time. Your 40th. The curse is about to claim its final victim.”
“You mean-“
“Yes, I am the curse.”
“Buy how? Why? Uncle Frank…”
“You don’t know what it is like to be cheated out of your inheritance. The oldest son, but the least favorite. My father was not going to give me anything, even though I deserved it all. Well, they got their due from him…then I decided to give them mine.”
“You mean, dad, grampa, Uncle John, Uncle Mike?” Then his face darkened, “You didn’t…”
“Cause your brother’s plane to crash? No, I’m afraid I am not that resourceful. That was pure providence. The others however, had a little help meeting their demise. Now, it’s your turn. I had not planned on carrying it another generation, but as luck would have it, the curse continued without me.”
“If you think I am just going to shoot myself, you’re crazy.” John took a step towards Frank.
“Uh, uh, uhh.” Frank cocked the gun as he took a step back towards the door. “I will have about 45 seconds to put the gun in your hand before everybody comes running in, at which point I will explain to them how I tried to talk you out of it. After all, I survived, you could too. But, alas, being so overcome with stress, worry and grief, you took your own life.”
“You are crazy!”
“And you are dead, but you will die knowing the curse ends with you.”
Just at that moment, Johnny burst into the room. The door hit Frank square on the side causing him to drop the gun which discharged when it the floor…
***
The other guests heard the gunshot and ran towards it. It only took 30 seconds for them to burst into the room. They entered as one and saw little Johnny standing there in tears. The poor boy had been scared out of his mind by the noise and immediately went into shock over what happened.
John moved next to his son, grabbed him and hugged him tight, the shock of what happened not quite setting in for him as it had his son. He had just stared death in the face, but he was alive. Instead, his 90 year old Uncle Frank lie dead on the floor, a victim of his own gun.
The curse had claimed its final victim.
He finished buttoning his shirt as he left the bathroom and grabbed his tie off the back of his chair. He stood in front of the vanity mirror to make sure his outfit was straight. He was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, a black tie, and his black jacket was lying on his bed. It was the kind of thing one would wear to a funeral.
His wife thought it was morbid. He thought it was practical.
He finished straightening himself, did a once over, then grabbed his jacket and left the room. Company would start to arrive any minute, and it wouldn’t be good if he was late to his own party.
***
His wife was in the kitchen preparing the last of the food for the party. She looked up when he walked in. “Well don’t you look nice, in a morbid sort of way,” she said.
John smiled at her with his trademark half-smile and picked up the nearest bowl.
“Where would you like this, dear?” he asked.
“Over on the server, next to the finger sandwiches.”
He had just placed the item down when the doorbell rang. The first guest had arrived for his 40th Birthday Party.
It was his Uncle Frank. At 90 years old, he was feisty as could be. He moved pretty good for his age, only needing a cane to help with stairs. “Dressed for a funeral, I see. Practical, if not morbid.” He made his way inside and undid his overcoat. “You know, John, I beat that curse and so can you. There is one in every generation that survives, and your brother, God rest his soul, already succumbed.”
The “curse” he was referring to was the 40 year curse that had plagued his family for three generations. His grandfather, all his uncles, his father and his brother had all mysteriously died on their 40th birthdays. His grandfather had drowned in the bathtub. His uncle John, who he was named for, was killed in a hunting accident, his other uncle simply disappeared, and his own father had been killed in a car accident.
His brother, the most recent victim to the curse, died when his plane crashed into the ocean just under three years ago. His Uncle Frank was the only one to survive past 40, and his survival was just as mysterious as some of the deaths.
“I’m not so sure, Uncle Frank. Gramps died with just two hours left in the day, and he set the precedent. I have a full five hours left. Anything can happen.”
“Stay inside and stay out of the tub and you will be just fine, my boy.” Frank put his hand on John’s shoulder then moved over to the easy chair and sat down. “You know, I was careful all day, and that’s why I survived. You be careful and you will live another 50 years yourself.”
John let out a half chuckle/half sigh, “Well, I’m hoping. Make yourself and home, Uncle Frank. I need to help Lisa with the food.”
***
By eight o’clock, the party was in full swing. It was not a blowout by any means, but their house was packed to capacity. John did enjoy being at the center of all that attention, though he could not help but keep one eye on the clock.
His younger sister and his wife had put together a video, and quite an entertaining one at that, which chronicled his life thus far. It included some grainy home movies from his childhood and high school. Stills from his college years, and some stills and video from his time in the Navy.
He had been involved in the first gulf war, Operation Desert Storm, stationed on a cruiser that fired cruise missiles to soften up the defense so planes could go in unhindered. His ship had actually hit a mine and he lost some good shipmates. He joked that the only reason he survived is so he could reach forty.
The video did not go into the mine hit, but stressed the “steel beach picnics” and crew bar-b-ques when the ship was in port. His wife and sister actually did a pretty good job at putting things together and the video was well received by both John and the guests.
“I could not think of a better present,” he said, as he kissed his wife on the forehead.
They moved on the presents. That was what his son, John Jr., or Johnny (called that so they would not get confused) was waiting for. Johnny eagerly helped his father open his series of “over the hill” presents and other gag gifts. There was not a single practical gift there, but it was all in good fun.
***
Between the video, the gifts, the food and general conversation, the evening flew by. When the clock struck 10:30, the party was still in full swing. The guests had broken up into smaller groups by this time, but all of them were still there.
John was no longer the center of attention, and took the opportunity to sit and regain his bearings. Just as he got comfortable, his Uncle Frank approached.
“Hey John, I haven’t given you your present yet. Come on and I’ll show you what I got.”
John looked at his watch: 10:40. If he could stay in his chair for another one hour and twenty minutes, he would be safe.
Frank read his mind. “Come on, you have already beat your grampa. You have survived longer than anyone else. I promise we will not leave the house. What could possibly happen?”
Reluctantly, John got out of the chair and followed his uncle to their closed in porch. Frank closed the door, placed a wooden box on the shelf, opened it, and pulled out a stainless steel Beretta .40 caliber pistol. “Happy Birthday,” he said.
“Frank! You know how Lisa feels about those! Besides, what am I going to do with a gun?”
“You’re going to kill yourself.”
John was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“You, are, going, to kill yourself.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because it is your time. Your 40th. The curse is about to claim its final victim.”
“You mean-“
“Yes, I am the curse.”
“Buy how? Why? Uncle Frank…”
“You don’t know what it is like to be cheated out of your inheritance. The oldest son, but the least favorite. My father was not going to give me anything, even though I deserved it all. Well, they got their due from him…then I decided to give them mine.”
“You mean, dad, grampa, Uncle John, Uncle Mike?” Then his face darkened, “You didn’t…”
“Cause your brother’s plane to crash? No, I’m afraid I am not that resourceful. That was pure providence. The others however, had a little help meeting their demise. Now, it’s your turn. I had not planned on carrying it another generation, but as luck would have it, the curse continued without me.”
“If you think I am just going to shoot myself, you’re crazy.” John took a step towards Frank.
“Uh, uh, uhh.” Frank cocked the gun as he took a step back towards the door. “I will have about 45 seconds to put the gun in your hand before everybody comes running in, at which point I will explain to them how I tried to talk you out of it. After all, I survived, you could too. But, alas, being so overcome with stress, worry and grief, you took your own life.”
“You are crazy!”
“And you are dead, but you will die knowing the curse ends with you.”
Just at that moment, Johnny burst into the room. The door hit Frank square on the side causing him to drop the gun which discharged when it the floor…
***
The other guests heard the gunshot and ran towards it. It only took 30 seconds for them to burst into the room. They entered as one and saw little Johnny standing there in tears. The poor boy had been scared out of his mind by the noise and immediately went into shock over what happened.
John moved next to his son, grabbed him and hugged him tight, the shock of what happened not quite setting in for him as it had his son. He had just stared death in the face, but he was alive. Instead, his 90 year old Uncle Frank lie dead on the floor, a victim of his own gun.
The curse had claimed its final victim.
