My Soul To Keep

by Jackie Sonnenberg

  Becky opened her mouth slightly, just enough for me and only me to see the empty void where it used to be. She shut it immediately and touched her mouth.

  “Oh my God.”

  Becky shook her head and put her hands on my shoulders, her eyes increasing in glossy twinkle. Okay, she mouthed. Okay. I am okay.

  I found that very hard to believe, and when I heard his voice behind me I jumped.

  “Becky! My child, my Light!”

  Mitchell came over to her and embraced her. “You must get some rest. We have arranged your bed for you upstairs, and Carol will bring you some nice broth. We are going to take care of all your dietary needs from now on. Anything to make it easy for you.”

  He led Becky upstairs, some of the others following along. I stayed behind with Damien, where we both did our own wordless communication. His face was chalky white and I didn’t blame him. I pressed down on my own lips, terrified if I even said the wrong thing I would wake up tomorrow with my own tongue melted in magical acid. We didn’t need to stay anything to know that we were both going to check on Becky on our own time. It would have to be late.

  Around one in the morning, Damien came to my room.

  “Hey. Is she asleep?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “But does it matter if we wake her up? Getting her alone is the only time we can talk…sort of. Did you bring it?”

  He held up a notebook under his arm, a clicky pen snug in the spiral binder.

  “Good. She’ll write down everything and then we’ll have written proof.”

  “Unless someone finds it...or she doesn’t talk.”

  “There’s only one way to find out, okay? Come on, before anyone sees us.”

  Damien and I walked down the hallway as quietly as we could. Becky’s door was of course closed, and we didn’t see the line of light underneath the door. It was very likely she was sleeping. I touched the doorknob and opened it carefully, nervous about any creek that could give us away. Once Damien and I were in I turned on the lamp on the dresser and shut the door.

  Becky slept on her side, one arm over her head and the other hanging off the bed. I walked right up to her and gave her a gentle shake. She awoke, startled of course, but I noticed she might have been relieved that it was us.

  “Becky, hey, sorry to wake you. We didn’t mean to scare you,” I said. Becky rubbed her eyes and sat up.

  “We needed to see you without anyone else around,” I continued. Damien came over with the notebook.

  “Here, Becky,” he started. “It’s okay, we’re here for you. Okay? We need you to tell us everything. Tell us what happened to you.”

  “We’re going to help you,” I added. “Not sure how but we will. We know that someone did this to you. Tell us who!”

  Becky took the notebook and pen and wrote something down. She did so in such a calm and demure manner that seemed out of place. Nowhere near the frantic victim she used to be, or actually was. She held up the notebook where Damien and I read:

  The White Light.

  We stared at it, all the blood draining from our heads, and stared back at Becky, whose face never changed expression.

  “What do you mean ‘The White Light’” I asked.

  She continued, and I definitely did not like where this was going.

  The White Light decided that my tongue was evil. It spoke slander, of untrue words, and it needed to be punished. I am now rid of that evil that made me spread the untruth. My Light now shines brighter than before without it and I can truly express myself the way I am supposed to.

  Damien and I exchanged glances with Becky smiling peacefully, in such a dreamlike state. She might still have been half-asleep, or her engine was running but someone else was behind the wheel. Not waiting for us she wrote again.

  I am at peace without the evil in my mouth. I may be silent now, but I have not been silenced. My Light works in other ways, my Light can communicate in action. I can seek out the weak.

  I read her last line at least three times. Looking at Becky, I mentally tried to appeal to her. Becky, I know the real you is in there somewhere.

  I can seek out the weak.

  I can seek out the weak.

  I can seek out the weak.

  Chapter 23

  Our friend acted as she normally would, going to classes, participating in GOL activities, having dinner…

  But her dinner was not the same. It was mashed up, or put in a blender. She drank her dinner. She drank her dinner the same way she drank her own conscience: down the tubes and then out the other end to be flushed away.

  We were all told that Becky surmounted a physical trauma, a true test to see if her spirit was stronger than her body. She was seen as a living miracle, just like Seth was. Mitchell told us over and over that The White Light can test us, and we needed to be prepared. We all believed him.

  One evening as we sat around in preparation for another meditation, Mitchell said something that should have scared us all to call our parents to take us out of school.

  “My Lights…as you are all my children and we are a family, that means you are my children, and I would like the pleasure of having you all for Thanksgiving. I am planning a Thanksgiving retreat for when everyone else gets out of school, we get to stay here.”

  Some, if not all, protested.

  “Mitchell, my family is going to my aunt and uncle’s.”

  “My parents want me home.”

  “Mine too.”

  “I haven’t been home since summer!”

  “Everyone.”

  Mitchell didn’t need to shout. Mitchell never shouted and never felt the need to. No one said anything else.

  “Everyone, please. Consider the day of giving thanks with your GOL family to be much more worthwhile. We are being thankful for the Lights we have. Aren’t we? Aren’t we thankful that we have the strongest spirits in the world? I want you all to think about it. This is what our session will be about today. Think about how thankful you are to be a part of this family. It will be our own Thanksgiving retreat, a time to stay at The Manor where we are not burdened with classes and tests and studying. We will allow our spirits to have a restful…staycation.”

  If my hair were any shorter, it would be standing up on all ends. He was keeping us for Thanksgiving? Could he really do that? We couldn’t go home? Would the school allow that? I ignored the ringing in my ears. I needed to figure out how to get out of this. Somehow this did not sound good.

  “A Thanksgiving Retreat,” Mitchell repeated, annunciating the words as though they were delicious to say. “You will all strengthen your minds and your souls, with no one around to bother you. We will have nothing but great feasts and great fun! We’ll have team-building exercises and games.”

  I kept my head down, trying to hide the concerned look on my face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mitchell wave his hand over the whole congregation.

  “Meditate, my children.”

  I closed my eyes, at once deciding I had to rely on the power of my spirit to do the escaping for me. I flew high and soared above The Manor, above the trees and sky itself. I left my body behind as well as my rapidly beating heart—and suddenly everything slowed down. I was away from The Manor, away from campus, but who knew where. The air was cool, but it was way too warm for November. Clouds covered my face and went through my nose, down my lungs and into the pit of my stomach calming all my acidic nerves.

  As I inhaled and exhaled those cloud fumes they cleared my sight and I saw a large open field. As it cleared away more and more, I could make out what dominated the background: The largest, layered mountain ranges I had ever seen in person. The cloud fumes stopped there, gathering at the top and mingling into the blue and green and brown speckled in the mountain rocks. I heard a loud rushing behind me, and turning around an enormous waterfall greeted me. It splashed on the rocks and some hit me in the face, droplets that reflected every color of the rainbow in glorious prisms.

  I had no cl
ue where I was. How could I know? And yet, as I walked along the fields and let the waterfall reflect in my eyes I knew it was a very real, very foreign place. I tried to look around for the others. I could hear them, but I couldn’t see them.

  “Hello?” I tried asking. “Hello? Where are you? Where are we?”

  I tensed up momentarily, coming to the conclusion that I was not the only…spirit…in this place. The presence I felt was not a familiar one at all. I walked through the fields and stared at the mountains because I saw something move near them. Some things were moving, and they looked like they were moving in order to join together. Shadows were starting to blend into the mountains and moved as one, and then broke apart as individuals. Pieces of them broke off and turned into arms, wiggling wavy fingers that beckoned me to come forward. I walked in that direction without thinking about it.

  They had faces, but they were unrecognizable. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw that all of these spirits ran down the fields, all along the horizon, and surrounded the entire area. Several flew right past me. Were we all here together? What was this place?

  “Do you see it?”

  I heard Mitchell’s voice clear and strong as though this world were a covered dome with a PA system.

  “Do you…all see it?”

  Yes. We were all in the same vision. Our spirits all went to the same place this time, although I don’t know how this was arranged. As I looked out past the mountain ranges, I could see that this place stretched out for miles and miles. We were only in a small section of a great, wide field and whatever else lay beyond. There was plenty more and I was dying to see it, but for some reason we could go no further. The spirits—the ones gathered by the vast mountain ranges—joined wavy arms in a people rope. As far as myself went…my spiritual self, I couldn’t move. Not at all.

  “My Lights,” Mitchell’s voice boomed again. “You all see before you…a paradise waits. A potential one, for a potential future home. Are you worthy of it? Are you ready for it? Do you see what could be yours only if you continue to believe in The White Light?”

  We opened our eyes. All of us. I didn’t want to, but I did and the vision was now gone.

  “You can be worthy of such a paradise,” Mitchell said, standing before us and bringing us all back to Earth. “Our time here is short. Remember that. We will die here, and then where will we go? Consider this and more in the time that we have. This Thanksgiving Retreat will allow us special time for that reflection. Do you now see how important that is? Do not let your spirits down.”

  The fireplace heaved in, sighed out, and then sneezed out a cloud of smoke. All the candles in the lounge went out.

  ***

  I paced my room with my phone on my ear, hoping it would go smoothly.

  “Well…” I said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’re actually having Thanksgiving here.”

  “You are?” my mom asked, her voice ending on a higher, disappointed note. “What do you mean? You’re not coming home?”

  “I’m sorry Mom, don’t take it personally. Mitchell is making a really big thing out of it, and he got permission from the school for us all to stay here and have an entire retreat from classes and such. It’s supposed to be a special thing where we reflect on our lives and stuff.”

  “Well, all right honey,” she said. “If that’s what you want, that sounds like a great time. We’re going by Grandma and Grandpa, and I don’t even think your cousins are around anyway. This sounds like it will be a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, it’s going to be great.”

  “This group is really doing wonders for you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it sure is.”

  I still paced my room, only part of me believing what I just said.

  Well, our last day of classes and the beginning of this “retreat” was, of course, wonderful. Not like I expected it to go any differently. Everyone was in the most amazing spirits, like Christmas had come early. Even Becky. Especially Becky. I came downstairs for breakfast, and the first thing she did was grab me in an enormous embrace.

  “Hey Becky…how are you feeling? How…” I motioned to her mouth. It, after everything it had been through, still managed to smile.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  Becky shook her head, then patted her mouth and patted her chest. She shrugged it off like it was nothing. She motioned across the room, still keeping her hand across her chest.

  “You’re…you’re at peace,” I guessed.

  She nodded and then led me to the kitchen, where I helped myself to some cereal and just tried not to talk or think about it anymore.

  It was the last day of classes before the weekend, and then the following Monday would officially start the retreat. The mood in the manner was very uplifting and exciting. I thought to myself that I only had one more day of classes. At first I thought it was the only time I could get out so I could escape The Manor…but now I thought it was the last time I had to go so I could escape classes.

  I actually couldn’t believe I thought we were being held hostage, or trapped there. Really. What was I thinking? I wanted to stay there. I wanted fulfillment, and most importantly, I wanted to make more spiritual connections around the house. The thing was I didn’t exactly have a plan of how to get in touch with them. Damien and I agreed to be low-key and keep an eye on everything to see when and if there would be an opportunity for us to explore…or to give us a clue on something. So far, no such events topped the tornado and Becky’s sudden tongue horror. We also had a hard time connecting the two to anything. We were getting nowhere, basically. We only knew that somehow, something was going to happen during this Thanksgiving Retreat, and we had no idea what it would be until it happened.

  The evening and the night went—normally. Mitchell didn’t have any big speeches prepared or anything. The only thing we had to do was make sure to pitch in the Food Fund jar that would take care of us for the week, as the campus eateries would be closed. Carol and Mitchell would get food supplies periodically, and that was basically it.

  Damien and I stayed up late and talked a little, doing homework together or pretending to. After a while he gave me a tired look. We both knew what that mean, there was nothing to do but to call it a night. He went to sleep, but I for some reason stayed downstairs staring at the one paragraph in my text book for the longest time. It wasn’t even sure I read it at all.

  Ad Astra broke my trance, weaving in and out of table and chair legs. Her whiskers twitched and she sat down on the kitchen floor, cleaning herself behind her leg. She got into her own trance at one point, acknowledging me sitting at the table but mostly just staring at something down the hallway. I kept my eye on her, not sure if I should stick around or go to bed. It seemed liked déjà vu, this scene we played for the second time. I stood up and walked over to her, looking in the direction she was looking at. She obviously heard it before me.

  The thumps were quiet at first, almost obscured by the noises in the heater, but they were recognizable. The cat got up, her tail a solid sword of protection behind her, behind us. She stalked and I followed, following the thumps as they got louder down the hallway. The doors to the rooms were all shut; the noise could have been coming from any of them. They persisted and soon turned into an entirely different beat of pounding. They were almost knocking. The cat shuffled down the hallway quickly with me right behind her, and I held my breath. She never took her eyes off of whatever was in front of us, whatever she could see and I could not.

  I had a feeling this time, I truly did. Ad Astra crawled towards the same storage closet I discovered days ago. The knocking got louder and more spaced apart. She emitted a low growl and pointed her tail right at the door, keeping very low. I knew this was my cue.

  I reached for the doorknob with little hesitation this time and turned it all the way, almost jumping back. I expected something to fall out on me again or even jump out, but nothing did. I opened the door and the only thing that hit me was a cold breeze, dus
t mites blowing away in escape at my feet. The room was too dark to see anything in it, too dark to even make out all the crap that I found there previously. I held the door wide open and listened, almost thinking the pounding stopped, but it did not. It was actually coming closer.

  Ad Astra’s ears twitched and folded back. I wished I had my phone so I could poke a light around in the dark. I leaned in and my heart jumped to my throat when I heard a pound a few feet away from me. I swear that no matter how many times I tried to swallow my stomach down it stayed there. I stared a few feet away from me, because I could also swear that there was a box on the ground was hopping towards me like a rabbit.

  I saw the box near the corner of the storage room entrance, not quite out of the room. I reached towards it and grabbed the box, Ad Astra poking her nose at it and waving her whiskers in curiosity, or caution, or both. As soon as I touched the box it stopped thumping. I got it out and shut the door, putting the box on the ground.

  “Well,” I said stupidly. “Here goes nothing.”

  Ad Astra watched me open the box, not leaving me. I pushed back those flaps and peered in to see what was inside.

  Part of me wanted to scream, part of me wanted to laugh, because it felt like Jumanji. But of course, it wasn’t Jumanji. It was a freaking Ouija board.

  Chapter 24

  It wasn’t even in a regular game box, the kind you usually get from the toy section at Target. It was older…a box with intricate wooden designs featuring stars and moons and clouds. I took that game up to my room and put it under my desk. I spent most of the night staring at it from my bed from behind the spaces in my fingers. What was I expecting? It wasn’t going to float in the air and fly in my face, and it didn’t. It never thumped again. I understood that it wanted attention, and it got mine. The next step was to get a partner to use it, and I knew exactly who to ask.

  I gazed at the digital clock on my nightstand, my dripping eyes failing to see the exact numbers. I was so tired I didn’t even know what time it was. It would have been dumb to wake up Damien now anyway. So I slept, that game under my desk watching me all night.