This story is copyright of Andre de Hoog. All rights reserved.

SUPERSTITION

1

It was Friday the 13th.

Friday was alleged to be the day when Adam and Eve were kicked out of Eden, Christ crucified and the traditional day for executing criminals.

And 13?

A Norse legend has it that 12 gods were at a feast. When the 13th arrived so did trouble and the beloved Balder died.

There were 13 people at the Last Supper and we all know what happened to Jesus.

But my Friday was like any other day.

I had been out till the wee hours of the morning enjoying the nightlife. I woke around midday and went to the kitchen for a quick bite to eat where I heard my landlord say that the fishing had been good this week. This pricked my curiosity.

After a quick wash, I decided to go to the harbor to check up on what he had said. My usual route took me through the neighborhood alleyways via the village market, harbor and fishmonger.

My home was in a quaint village called Kilpatrick whose citizens were mostly retired folk. There were a few young couples who had come to raise their families in the peace of our town away from the maddening crowd. They brought their skills with them keeping Kilpatrick in touch with the modern world with the internet, cell phones and satellite dishes. New technology made some of the old timers, who were steeped in superstition, a lot worse.

I was loved and hated in the village.

I knew nothing of my father other than he was a travelling salesman. I was given up for adoption as a youngster with Kilpatrick my new home.

Old money, fishing and tourism were the official commodities of our town. Unofficially, rumors and gossip were traded with those willing to hear. Conversations were spiced with adages and proverbs as folk caught up with the news at the market or the pubs. A travelling carnival and the odd pub brawl were the only things that interrupted the tranquility of the village, leaving gossip to fill the gaps.

It was a fine afternoon with the spring sun shining in the middle of an azure sky. My best friend Queen sat in her backyard enjoying the first of the warmer days. Her eyes met mine but she did not greet me.

What is wrong with her? I thought but it was that Friday again.