The Black Curtain chapter XXV

“Hey there! How does it work?” I was astounded by it’s mammoth size.

At least a million gym sized lockers packed around a space equal to the court in which you could play long tennis, stuffed one above the other, all brown with a blotch.

“You shall see.” Xi nodded.

She hit an old fashioned lever and the whole system came alive, drumbling, rumbling, as though an earthquake had hit it. The ground on which I stood shook due to the percussions.

I took a step back as it seemed like it was a violent process.

Every inch of it was shaking and quacking.

Then, slowly they all moved in rows and she hit a number on a key pad punching it fast.

“…………..492……….”

They moved more, jarred, creaked, crunched, wobbled and danced above all, till I saw a locker sliding past all at lighting speed and landing straight in the empty box which sat in front of Xi, the only infilled box in the line.

Marco waited on a stool, Xi kept cracking her fingers.

I stood near the door.

But as soon as the box was near, Xi looked back and smiled at me, beckoning me to follow her. Marco stood up, for he needed no invitation.

“The key?” Xi laid her hand out, her left one to Marco.

It was the seventh day today and we were almost fifteen days away from the places we called home.

Rocky was a Scandinavian, Martin was Irish.

I was an Afro American, born and brought up till the age of eight in Brazil and moved to United States straying away to a home which adopted me for twenty years till the lady became bald and gave away, the daughter, Milawi was broke and ran her debts on my help mostly. My mother was an Indian on her father’s side and a Mexican on her mother’s side.

I did not know what it would lead me into, but I knew it would lead me to something and not nothing even if it was my release from the life and transfer to my death or shift from one door to the next.

“What is this thing?”

I craned my neck to shout out, since the gyrations from the machine were still dying.

A gift.” Marco wheezed curling his nose.

“Gift from whom?”

“The Magi people.” Marco was wiping his moustache with a tissue, as his beard hung loose.

“Ahh! Harry Potter.” I laughed at the old man.

“Not HP please, the real people of Magi. But that’s a story I save. You can hear it only when you go through all this parts of it,” Marco gave her a torch like object, after plucking into his pocket.

“From the shallows of time,

Comes darkness, pain, comes the dime.

From the depths of time,

Comes the light, gifts, the peaceful chime.”

Marco was incorrigible,……”Aghhhh!”

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