The cool of the basement was a welcome relief from the sticky street heat. I switched on the main Mac and took a seat, while Josh grabbed a chair and sat next to me.
I reflected on the first time I'd been down here, when I first met my library crush, Dylan. How life can twist and turn, I thought, as Josh and I watched the computer wake up.
When the dialogue box opened asking for the Password, we looked at each other, "You input it," said Josh.
With a sense of anticipation I typed: i12enterU
We watched as the computer began to hum and come alive, scattering folders and files across its large screen.
###
We both scanned the screen in silence, trying to decipher the content from the named files. Josh's finger honed in on an mpg movie file with the title D&J – "Click on that one," he said.
The movie screen opened and it buffered for a short while, before blurry footage of two boys in school uniform flickered on the screen. It was without sound, but it was clear they were play fighting. Josh leaned in, "That's me and Dylan, when we were at school." He looked bewildered, "I don't remember anyone filming us," he said.
I leaned in and saw the truth, "That's not you and Dylan, that's his dad and my dad," I said, recognizing my youthful father from our treasured photographs at home.
A sad sense of nostalgia swept over me as I watched my dad laughing and joking, his youthful innocence so pure and fresh.
Josh leaned in closer, "What was..." he swiftly corrected himself..."I mean what is your dad's name?" He asked.
"Javed,"
Josh nodded and Dylan's dad was called Donal, so that explains the D&J." He leaned back, "Your dad looks so like me, it's freaky," he said, smiling at the similarity.
"I so wished it had sound," I said, longing to know what they were saying to the camera.
Suddenly the screen went black and a loud crackling sound came from it, before my dad's face filled the screen. He looked as he had the last time I'd seen him when I was ten.
A surge of emotion caused me to heave and Josh responded by holding my hand.
Although my dad's face filled the screen, I could decipher from the blue sky and glimpse of arid landscape behind him that this was filmed in Ghana.
After a short pause, he began to speak – "The footage that preceded my piece to camera was of me and my childhood friend, Donal Goodie. They were innocent days. Unfortunately, when we reached young adulthood and both married, Donal's young wife was murdered in cold blood. Overcome with grief, Donal lost rationale and blamed an old man for practicing the voodoo that he believed killed his wife. His response was to murder the old man, a crime that led to him being incarcerated in a high security insane asylum, leaving his two young children in the care of the authorities. The fact is, it was street scum, a crack head that murdered his wife – of that there is no doubt."
I leaned in, eager to comprehend every word my father said – "But my friend Donal was not entirely wrong, for the fact is, Magic, Black magic does exist. Which is why I've left my wife and daughter to travel to my homeland of Ghana..."
He quickly glanced away from the camera, nervously scanning his surroundings before continuing – "But this magic is trickery, conjured by mortal men to control and manipulate for their own ends. The magic I speak of is Juju.
