TCCS Pt. 01 Ch. 02: One Hot Librarian Researches BBC

"How did he escape," I asked.

Cox scrunched up his face which made him look like pure evil. He spat on the ground and dismounted his horse. "He claims that my daughters untied him."

"Surely, that can't be true," I replied.

"It's true," yelled Samantha. "I freed the black master." There came a collective gasp from the crowd. Samantha continued. "My black master rewarded us by letting Betty and I service his divine cock."

"My womb is filled with his divine seed," shouted Betty. Caleb suddenly spun his wife around and smacked her hard across her cheek. She fell to her knees clutching her face in pain. His face looked as pained as hers.

"As is my womb." Samantha surveyed the crowd, still struggling in her husband's arms. "I pray that my black master has made me gravid and that I shall bear him a son."

I hadn't even realized it, but I had taken out my sturdy wooden cross and was holding it out towards the mad women to protect me from their evil. "How can this be?" I whispered to myself.

Hettie Parker answered me. "They are bewitched. Hang the NIGGER!! Hang all the niggers."

"Hang him, hang him," shouted the still growing crowd.

I could truly feel the presence of evil, but to some extent I believed it was coming from Phineas Cox. He had brought this on himself. He and his family had bred these slaves. The Cox family had created the monster that had brought down their beautiful daughters. "Betty, Samantha," I said trying to calm myself. "Are you bewitched? Did this black devil cast a spell on you?"

Samantha threw back her head and laughed. "My black master is no devil. He is a superior male. They have covered his cock to hide this truth from you. Remove his pants and reveal Damballah and you will see why I am his slave."

"Repent and I can save you," I told them.

Betty and Samantha both laughed. "Enough!" shouted Cox. "Line the slaves up," he told his men.

I glanced as he lined the slaves up to watch the hanging and noticed something odd about the males. They were all bald. The only males with hair were the children and Prospero who also sported a thick dark beard. "Why are they shaved?" I asked.

Cox grunted and looked over at me. "I'm told they all shaved their heads this morning. Othello told the overseer that they were dedicating themselves to the service of Damballah. Even the Christians went back to their heathen ways. My man whipped Othello good, but the slaves refused to stop shaving their heads."

"How did they know Prospero had been recaptured and was in the barn?"

"Witchcraft," said Cox. "They just knew." He shrugged as if to say the question was irrelevant.

"Or one of the workers in the field saw him being led in." I still refused to believe that witchcraft was involved in this even though Prospero deserved to be hung for his crimes.

"They tried to rescue him," said Cox, pointing to a group of half a dozen bald slaves, surrounded by men with guns. "But what they found was my two daughters had already freed him. He gave them my daughter's bodies for their pleasure as a reward."

"That can't be true."

"I have taken their nigger cocks in all my holes," screamed Samantha. "And it was DIVINE!"

I stepped back and held my cross up again. Merciful god save us. These women were bewitched! Two hundred years ago, my church would be burning them for their crimes. Worse, they were still under his spell. "Kill the black devil and your daughters may yet be saved," I calmly told the Colonel.

"I'll do the honors myself," said Cox. He slung his rifle across his back and walked over to slap the horse.

"Prospero Black do you repent? Do you admit that you are a sinner and in league with the devil? Do so and I will pray that god will have mercy on your soul." I stared at the proud black slave- no, he wasn't a slave. This man could never be enslaved. I clutched my cross tightly until the knuckles on my fingers turned white.

"I will no repent for ma god loves me," he replied, haughtily. "I am no allied with yo devil, white man. You created me," he said, nodding his head towards Cox. "This is yo doing."

"Are you willing to die with your sins still upon your soul?"

"I be no afraid," he said, looking down on me. "When I die I will become one with da land. I have planted my seed upon this place and I shall make it mine."

"Get on with it," I told Cox. "A storm's coming." Dark clouds were rolling in fast and the wind was picking up. "Commit his soul to hell."

"Then it's time," said Phineas. "Oh, and there's one last thing I want you to see before you die." Cox turned away from the doomed black man and looked to his men and the townsfolk. "Kill them. Kill them all."

I gazed at the old man in shock and then I heard a gun go off and then another. I turned to see smoke rising from several rifles. The people were opening fire upon the slaves. Three of the ones who had tried to rescue Prospero were down. They were shooting at women and children also, but mostly the men. The slaves stood frozen in shock at first before they turned to flee into the cornfield. Luckily for them, the stalks were tall since it was so close to harvest. Armed, mounted men followed them into the corn and shots continued to ring out. At least two dozen blacks lay dead, mostly the shaven headed followers of Prospero, but there were also some women and at least three children. I turned my eyes back up at Prospero. He looked shocked, stunned by what he was witnessing and there were tears rolling down his cheeks. And then he started chanting.

Oh Damballah, kreyatè nan lavi yo," he said.

I stepped back for clearly this was the language of hell. He continued to chant, mumbling. His words were dark and evil. I could sense a demonic power in them. I held my cross up towards him. "Stop him," I shouted at Cox. Then I began reciting the 23rd Psalm. "Yea though I walk through the valley..."

Cox had been gleefully watching the end of his family's centuries old breeding program. He turned and looked up at Prospero before slapping the horse on the rump. The horse leaped away, leaving Prospero swinging. I stumbled in my prayer as the horse nearly ran me down. Impossibly, with a noose tightening around his neck and strangling him, Prospero continued speaking his curse.

Events were happening quickly and I recite them while they are still fresh in my mind. Caleb Summers had released Betty as did Samantha's husband when Cox gave the order to fire. They pulled their pistols out and fired at the fleeing slaves, joining the blood crazed mob in their slaughter. The Cox daughters were screaming hysterically, running towards their still swinging black master. Samantha reached him first. She threw her arms around his legs as if to lift him up and I wondered if she were trying to save him or snap his neck, but instead she ended up pulling his pants down and she fell to the ground sobbing. As his pants fell, Prospero's big nigger cock swung up and out. It was fully erect as he strangled and the biggest I'd ever seen on any of Cox's slaves. There was a flash behind me as someone took a photograph of the hanging.

"Padonnen yo, papa yo, yo pa konnen sa y'ap fè." Were the last words he ever spoke. I watched as Prospero's eyes rolled up in his head and his tongue stuck out. Prospero died then swinging from the oak tree with Cox's two nearly nude daughters crying hysterically at his feet, but that wasn't the end of things. The moment he died, that big bull cock of his ejaculated. I'm ashamed to say, that my carnal desires have gotten the best of me when I was younger, before taking my vows of course, and I have seen my own ejaculate before, but the amount shooting from Prospero's cock could have filled a pail. It fell to the ground and where it hit, steam began to rise from the earth. The steam thickened, turning to mist, turning to a cloud. It was a heavy fog and the fog quickly surrounded the tree, spreading outwards from the oak. Everything it touched, disappeared from sight. It was unnatural. The fog quickly spread into the nearby cornfield and the shooting slowly came to a halt as the gunmen could no longer see any slaves to shoot at.

The townspeople started fleeing the mist. The was a flash and a boom that sent people to their knees in the dirt, ducking for cover. I heard a crack and could just make out the branch Prospero was hanging from breaking off, dropping his body to the ground. Then the heavens opened up releasing a torrential downpour as more lightning flashed in the sky and I joined the crowd, fleeing for the relative safety of their homes, though I headed for my church to seek the safety and comfort of the almighty god.

When I awoke the next morning, the fog was gone and the town looked normal. Caleb Summers brought his wife and sister-in-law to me. They still looked distraught, but had calmed down. They hadn't bathed, their hair was unkempt, and they still had that white crust on their chins. Luckily, to keep my lust in check, white shifts had been thrown over their scantily clad bodies. Caleb gave their custody over to me and I promised that I would take them to the convent and say prayers for their safety daily. He then informed me that Colonel Cox had shot himself last night. Caleb told me that the old man had retired to his sitting room, taken out the pistol he had used during the Mexican war, polished it for over an hour, and then stuck the barrel in his mouth, pulling the trigger.

I told him I would be by to say some words over the old man's body. Suicide is a mortal sin and I feared the devil had taken his soul for it, but I could almost understand why he did it.

While it is still strong in my memory, I commit to paper the words of Prospero the negro devil as he spoke them while in the process of being hung...

Oh Damballah, kreyatè nan lavi yo...

**********

Bobbie Sue read and reread the words of Prospero, but she could not make any sense of them. It would take a genius to decipher this... Yes! A genius was precisely what she needed.

"Melvin," she called. He jumped with a start and looked up from his computer. "Can you come here a moment?"

"Of course, Mrs. Kindle," he answered her in his nasally voice. The skinny little black teen stood from his desk and briskly walked down the book filled aisle towards her. "What can I do you for?" he asked when he arrived at the circulation desk.

"I want to know if you can translate this for me?" She handed the journal over to him and he glanced down at the words Prospero had spoken as they tried to hang him.

"It doesn't look like any language I recognize." He squinted at the words, his eyes looking larger than normal through the lens of his eye glasses. "A bit looks French. I don't know. I can give it a try."

"I'd appreciate it. Let me make a copy of this page."

"Anything for you Mrs. Kindle. He he he."

Bobbie Sue winced at his grating laugh. She put the journal page face down on the copier and made a copy of the curse. She examined the copy to make sure she'd gotten it all and handed it over to Melvin. "Here you go. Now put that genius brain to work."

"Will do. He he he." He saluted her, spun around, and marched back to his computer.

Her eye ticked again as she went back to the journal. She began leafing through it hoping to find out more information. It was mostly concerned with the faithful of the county, revenue generated from the convent's services, etc. She did find a few interesting pieces of information.

November 1859- Phineas Cox's younger brother, Franklin arrived today to take possession of the Cox Plantation.

January 1860- Franklin Cox returned today with some captured slaves that had fled his older brother's massacre. He had them whipped and put them back to work.

June 1860- Samantha Cox Small gave birth to twin boys today. The sisters helped her as best they could, but it was a difficult pregnancy. Though mulatto, the boys favor their father and are as dark skinned as a full-blooded negro. The always difficult Samantha gave them their father's last name of Black, though she did give them good biblical first names. The boys will be called Lazarus and Isaac Black. The good sister who acted as midwife confessed to me that she was shocked by the size of the boy's phallus's. She jokingly told me that she almost cut the first boy's penis off believing that it was his umbilical cord.

June 1860- Betty Cox Summers gave birth to twin boys today just two days behind her sister. They resemble their cousins both in their dark skin and their large penises. Betty is the much more agreeable of the Cox sisters. She shamefully admitted to not knowing which slave had fathered the children and after staring at the long dangling penises of her sons, she chose the surname Long. In a way, what Betty finally chose to name them was worse then her sisters children's names. She named the boys after her father and her husband. They are Phineas and Caleb Long. Old Phineas Cox must be spinning in his grave to have his half breed grandson named after him. I will see that all four boys are raised to serve god and not their evil father. Perhaps when they are old enough, I will send them out among the slaves to preach the word of god. The slaves may listen to one of their own and end their pagan ways.

Bobbie Sue flipped forward a few months and got to the part where Caleb Summers told Father Murphy about the capture of Prospero and asked for an annulment. There was nothing more of interest until she hit pay dirt several years later.

August 1864- I stood on the walls of the convent and watched as the smoke rose around the Cox Plantation. Betty and Samantha stood near me. Goodly Betty was crying, but Samantha remained impassive. The other Sisters had gathered to watch as had the four mullato boys who were once the sons of Betty and Samantha, but were now the sons of the church and god. Nearly four years old, they had grown like corn stalks and looked several years older. Samantha refused to take her vows and still wore the white robes. Betty had committed herself to god and wore the gown of a true Sister Of Mercy. At the time, we all believed that the Mansion was burning, but later we discovered that the Yankees had only burned the surrounding buildings. They had ridden out that morning, freeing the slaves, who were busy looting nearby farms. The crops were also burning, and I cursed the drought that had left the fields dry. It was then that Sister Betty slowly approached me. "Father," she said. "I'm ready to confess my sins." I had always longed to discover what had happened in that barn the night Betty and Samantha freed Prospero. Now I would know. Maybe there would be a clue as to how the devil had bewitched the two young women. I was so eager to know, I immediately led her to the confessional.

The next page was titled, "The Confession of Betty Cox."

Excited, Bobbie Sue began to read, but she was interrupted. "Excuse me, Mrs. Kindle," said Melvin. He had approached her silently and she wasn't aware of his presence.

"WHAT!" she snapped.

Melvin was startled and he took a step back. "S-sorry to disturb you, but I translated the page for you."

"What?" she said again, friendlier this time. She glanced at the wall clock. "It's only been fifteen minutes!"

Melvin shrugged. "I put my brain on it. Well, that and google. He he he." He handed her the paper and she glanced at it eagerly. It was still in gibberish to her. Exasperated, she asked, "Melvin, what is this, some kind of joke?"

The paper read:

oh Damballah, kreyatè nan lavi yo.

lakansyèl sèpan ki la, koulèv la nwa.

plant pitit pitit ou sou peyi sa a.

Me pitit fi yo nan Èv ap plantureu ak fètil.

Me yo jwenn rekonfòte sèvi siperyè koulèv la nwa nan Damballah.

Pou vè yo blan nan pitit gason yo nan Adan ap kite yo vle.

Oh Damballah, kreyatè nan lavi yo.

Muri bellys yo nan pitit fi yo nan Ev.

Avèk pitit pitit an koulèv la nwa nan Damballah.

Ak pouvwa yo kreye nouvo lavi sèvi ou.

Oh Damballah, kreyatè nan lavi yo.

"Padonnen yo, papa yo, yo pa konnen sa y'ap fè."

"No Mrs. Kindle, I have the English translation right here." He held up another piece of paper. "The language was Haitian Creole, but the problem was that the author had written it down from the memory of hearing it and with no knowledge of the proper spelling. Most of the words were completely wrong. I had to sound them out and take guesses as to how they were spelled."

Bobbie Sue might find Melvin grating and annoying, but the teenage boy had just phonetically sounded out misspelled words in a 150-year-old journal, translated them to a language he wasn't familiar with and translated it into English. In 15 MINUTES! His brain was truly amazing. She smiled at him nicely and he smiled back. "Can I see the translation?"

Melvin handed her the translation.

oh Damballah, creator of life.

the rainbow serpent, the black snake.

plant your seed upon this land.

May the daughters of Eve be buxom and fertile.

May they find solace serving the superior black snake of Damballah.

For the white worms of the sons of Adam will leave them wanting.

Oh Damballah, creator of life.

Ripen the bellies of the daughters of Eve.

With the seed of the black snake of Damballah.

And may they create new life to serve you.

Oh Damballah, creator of life.

The last line irked and angered Bobbie Sue, a good Christian woman of faith.

"Forgive them father. They know not what they do."

How dare he mock Jesus like that and set himself up like a messianic figure. Bobbie Sue reread it. "So, there is a Coxville Curse," she said, out loud.

"What's this all about?" asked Melvin.

Bobbie Sue looked up at him. "Alright this is between you and me. I'm hoping to get a book out of this." And Bobbie Sue told him everything she had discovered so far.

"Fascinating," said Melvin. "Of course, there's no such thing as curses, but still a fascinating piece of our history."

"I don't believe in the curse either. For whoever does these things is an abomination to the lord," she quoted scripture. "But what does it mean?"

"It's clearly sexual. He he he." Melvin practically giggled when he said it.

"Is it? I'm sorry, but can you leave me alone?" Bobbie Sue couldn't stand to hear his laugh anymore. She was grateful though. "Thanks, you have been a big help. I'll be done soon and then I'll give you a lift home."

Bobbie Sue looked at the words again. The first lines were clearly beseeching his pagan god.

Plant your seed upon this land.

That sounded very much like he was praying that the land would be fertile. Nothing unusual there.

May the Daughters of Eve be buxom and fertile.

She'd heard that before or at least the first part. C.S. Lewis referred to Christian women as the daughters of Eve in his Narnia books. The Christian women of this county were certainly buxom. Bobbie Sue looked down at her own huge breasts. Of course, buxom women seemed to run in the county's genealogy.

May they find solace serving the superior black snake of Damballah.

That line was certainly disturbing. Prospero referred to his large penis as Damballah. Had he cursed the town that it's white Christian women would find happiness giving themselves sexually to black men? Bobbie Sue shivered. Of course, it was nonsense. There wasn't one interracial relationship that she was aware of in the entire county. So much for that part of the curse.

For the white worms of the sons of Adam will leave them wanting.

Bobbie Sue sat back in her chair. Translation- the small penises of white Christian men will not satisfy their women. She shivered again and couldn't help picturing her own frustration with her husband's continued inadequate sexual performance. Other women openly talked about their own frustrations, but Bobbie Sue never joined in. Jenny Summers, Nurse Swallows, Bianca Blackwood and other teachers often griped in the teacher's lounge about their husband's disappointing sexual performances. Come to think of it, Bobbie Sue had never heard one woman in the county bragging about her husband as a lover. Sure, some were romantic. Some were attentive and generous with gifts, but never ever anything about their skills as a lover. So, this part of the curse had come true. She snorted and kept deciphering.