Soul Identity

by batchelder, dennis

  “Your grandma wanted me to check on a commission for one of her customers. Drive to that person’s house, but don’t go in there. Go to the next house south. The back door is open.”

  “I hope there are beds in there,” one of the twins said.

  “There are. If you get that far, see if anybody is watching the customer’s house. If you can do it without being seen, sneak him out of his house and over with you.”

  “This is beginning to sound fun,” one twin said.

  “Not to mention creepy,” the other added.

  “I’ll explain when I get there at seven thirty,” I said.

  “Great, we’ll make breakfast!”

  I hung up the phone and shuddered at the thought of a breakfast cooked by girls who baked chocolate chip cookies containing neither chips nor salt.

  I walked back and opened the driver’s door of the limo. “I’ll drive the rest of the way,” I said to Bob.

  He nodded and slid over.

  Val came back and saw both of us sitting up front. “Don’t leave me alone in the back,” she said. She opened the passenger door. “Bob, scoot to the middle.”

  He scooted, she got in, and I pulled onto the turnpike.

  An hour later I glanced at Bob. He stared straight ahead and stroked his necklace under his shirt. His lips moved in a silent chant.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I keep wondering what would have happened if I didn’t insist that we leave the guesthouse immediately.”

  “You’d be picking our pieces up off the lawn.” Not that subtle, but it was after four in the morning, and I was still shaken by the explosion.

  Bob turned toward me. “Somebody wanted you alive, Mr. Scott. And I was the tool He used to protect you.”

  “Who are you talking about, Bob?” I asked.

  “God, sir. God saved you, and I helped. He must have something important planned for you.” Bob’s voice rose in volume and rang with certainty.

  “I thought Soul Identity members didn’t believe in God,” I said.

  “Of course we believe in God, sir,” he sputtered. “Who else could have put our system in motion? It’s certainly not random.” He paused for a minute. “Not every member believes in God. Just like non-members, we have a mix of different beliefs.”

  I shook my head. “So how do you mix the two faith systems? Aren’t they contradictory?”

  Val stirred in her seat. “Scott, it sounds like you think Soul Identity is a religion,” she said.

  I thought about that. “Isn’t it one?”

  “No. I did say that we function like an organized religion. But really, we just find the bridges and provide some services to help our members use those bridges.”

  “Doesn’t that require a faith?”

  She nodded. “You only have to believe that your soul identity is unique, and that it’s going to reappear in somebody else after you die. That’s it.”

  Snowflakes were unique, and so were fingerprints. It wasn’t much of a stretch to believe that computed soul identities were also unique. I thought about them reappearing—the organization seemed to have plenty of evidence in their archives, even though most of it was private and inaccessible.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Barring any great conspiracies, I can believe those two things.”

  “Did you have to take any great leaps of faith to believe this?” she asked. “Or give up any other beliefs you held?”

  I pondered this. “No, I didn’t. There’s not much difference between that and believing in gravity.”

  She smiled. “That’s why people can join us and still retain their original faith.”

  “Wait, I didn’t follow you,” I said. “How is that the reason?”

  “If you believe in gravity, you still have room to have faith in God,” she said. “And almost everybody’s spiritual faith can easily accommodate our two basic beliefs. Think of how many Christians are comfortable believing in evolution.”

  I thought about what Val had said. Although Soul Identity didn’t force any religious beliefs, they certainly got people thinking about religion. “This is interesting,” I said. “It’s possible that Soul Identity even brings people back to church.”

  She nodded. “When you start thinking about your soul identity, you start thinking about the meaning of your life, what’s important to you, and what you’d like to do in the future. That’s when a church can help guide you.”

  That made sense. At five in the morning, these guys were acting less and less like wackos and more and more like normal, thoughtful people.

  A little later Val nudged Bob. “Tell us about your church,” she said.

  Bob stirred. “We’re non-denominational and Christian. We’re pretty small, and all of us are Soul Identity members.”

  “Bob, the previous people in your soul line—where are they now?” I asked.

  “They’re dead, sir.”

  “But don’t Christians believe that when you die, your soul goes to either heaven or hell?”

  “We do, sir.”

  “So if you’re here, and you have the soul identity of somebody who’s in heaven or hell, where did that soul go?”

  “Some people believe that once in heaven or hell, a soul has the option to come back and be born again,” he said.

  “If you get bored with eternal life, you can opt to start all over?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Others believe that all members of a soul line are different incarnations of a single soul, and they all end up in heaven living together as a family.”

  That sounded sort of like Christians viewing the Trinity as three forms of a single God, all working together. What do you believe?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Both groups back up their beliefs with Bible texts, and both beliefs appeal to me.”

  “Will you get married in that church?” Val asked.

  “We hope to, ma’am.”

  “Have you and Elizabeth talked about when?” I asked.

  He nodded. “As soon as we can.”

  eighteen

  We could see Madame Flora’s place from Route Fifty. The WorldWideSouls billboards looked even more offensive in person than they did on television. I stopped the limo in the breakdown lane. The building was dark.

  As I was about to pull back out onto the highway, Val reached over Bob and grabbed my arm. I hit the brakes, and we watched a gray sedan pull into Madame Flora’s tiny parking lot.

  The predawn light was bright enough for us to watch two figures get out of the car. They walked to the sides of the building and peeked in the windows. Then they disappeared around the back.

  I got back on the highway. “Let’s hope Madame Flora and the twins made it to my place,” I said.

  I reached my neighborhood, turned left down a side street, and approached my house from the south. I pulled over about two hundred yards short of the driveway. I turned to Bob. “We’re still considered dead, so we’d better not be seen,” I said.

  “Okay, Mr. Scott. I’ll wait here.”

  We got out, and I pointed out my house to Val. “Berry lives just beyond me.”

  She nodded. “Watch out,” she said. “There’s another gray car.” It pulled into Berry’s driveway. Val and I crossed the street and ducked behind a shed.

  Two men got out and walked around Berry’s house. When they were on the north side, we ran across my neighbors’ backyards. We reached my back door just as they rounded the corner, and froze until they walked out of our sight.

  Someone had locked the door. I knocked softly, and it swung open. Berry stood holding his shotgun. He looked ready to use it on us.

  “Careful, Berry. It’s me. Scott.”

  “What’s going on?” he demanded. “I’m sleeping soundly, minding my own business, and next thing I know there’s this terrific hammering on my back door.”

  “I’ll explain in a minute.” I looked around. “Where’s Madame Flora?”

  He pointed over his shoulde
r. “She and her granddaughters are keeping an eye on the guys from that gray car.” He looked at Val. “Who’s this?”

  “Val works for Soul Identity,” I said.

  Berry nodded. “Who are these guys casing my house?”

  “Let’s get everybody together,” I said, “and I’ll tell you what we know.”

  Berry bolted the door shut. We walked through my office and headed into the front room. I saw Madame Flora peeking out the window.

  “They just got back into their car,” she said. “But they’re not leaving.”

  “Hi, Mr. Waverly,” one of the twins said. “I’m Rose.” She gestured to the room. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Did you guys have any trouble?”

  “No, it all worked out great,” Marie said. “I think we really scared Mr. Berringer, though, when we banged on his door.”

  Rose giggled. “He scared us even more with that shotgun.” She peeked out the window. “Are these guys from WorldWideSouls?”

  I pointed at the dining table. “Let’s sit down.”

  The six of us sat.

  Madame Flora pointed at Berry. “I’m assuming this isn’t about his commission,” she said.

  “Maybe it is,” I said. “We ran Berry’s identity by using an old photo, and it turns out he’s an overseer.”

  She frowned. “That’s good news, isn’t it? Get him verified by the match committee, and then he’ll be the third. Archibald will be thrilled.”

  “There’s one catch,” Val said. “Our computers say that Berry’s identity matches Andre Feret’s.”

  Madame Flora stared at Val for a minute. “How can he share the same identity?”

  “We’re guessing that Feret isn’t really who he says he is,” I said. “And that car outside Berry’s house seems to support that.”

  Val told Madame Flora about the gray car we saw at her place.

  “And how am I involved?” Madame Flora asked.

  “Maybe they know you’re his recruiter,” I said.

  Berry shook his head. “Can somebody go through this again, but this time in English?”

  I turned to him. “Remember you gave me a photo so I could try to get your soul identity read?” I asked.

  Berry nodded.

  “We did read it, and it looks like some guy stole your identity.”

  “What’s wrong with his own identity?”

  “Apparently yours is special, Berry—one that makes you somebody rich and powerful. He must have wanted it for himself.” I remembered something. “Berry, you mentioned you lost your eye in a freak accident. What happened?”

  Berry seemed lost in thought for a minute. “It’s been ten years now, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was walking my dog Tubbers around my old neighborhood—”

  “I love dogs,” Marie said.

  “Me too,” added Rose. “I wish Grandma had a dog.”

  “Girls, let Mr. Berringer tell his story,” Madame Flora said.

  Berry smiled at the girls. “I love dogs too. Anyway, we had turned for home. The next thing I remember, I was lying face down on the ground. Tubbers was licking my ear. My nose was broken, and I had big bruises on the backs of my legs and a long splinter of wood sticking out of my left eye.”

  “Ouch,” Marie said.

  “Ouch is right. A neighbor found me and called an ambulance, and the paramedics brought me to the hospital. They patched up everything but my eye.”

  “Did you call the police?” I asked.

  “I did. They asked around the neighborhood for witnesses, but nobody saw anything. They said I was the victim of a hit and run accident.”

  I heard an edge to his voice. “Do you agree?” I asked.

  “I think a car came at me from behind,” he said. “I flew through the air and hit the ground. But the funny part is this—I have always been careful on the streets. Maybe it comes from selling wheelchairs to too many unfortunate pedestrians. I always walked against traffic. Always.” He stared at me. “If a car came from behind and hit me, it really went out of its way to do so.”

  Val looked at me, then turned to Berry. “Did you happen to go in for an eye examination before your accident?”

  He thought for a minute. “I had just gotten fitted for some reading glasses a few weeks before,” he said. “What a waste of money that turned out to be.”

  So somebody had tried to hurt, or even kill, Berry ten years ago. Chances were they belonged to the same crowd that was staking out his house. We had to get him somewhere safe. I went to the office and called Dad on his cell phone.

  “What are you doing in Maryland?” he asked.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans,” I said. “Are you guys on your way down?”

  “Yeah, we’re on the bridge now,” he said. “Ten or fifteen minutes, tops.”

  I hung up and headed back to the dining room. I caught a whiff of smoke in the air. “Something’s burning in the oven,” I said.

  Marie and Rose bolted for the kitchen.

  Madame Flora frowned. “I think they were trying to make sweet rolls.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I have flour, but I’m sure I don’t have yeast.”

  “They substitute all the time,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe what they made me eat these last few weeks.”

  I looked over at Berry. “Bob is waiting at the end of the street to bring you guys to Sterling.”

  “Virginia?” Berry asked.

  “Massachusetts,” Val said. “Our headquarters.”

  “Why would I want to go there?” he asked.

  “It’s your way into Soul Identity,” I said. “They’ll keep you safe while we figure out what to do about those guys watching your house.”

  Val walked into the front room and peeked out the window. “Now there’s two gray cars outside.”

  I joined Val and saw four men standing in a huddle in the street. I pointed at a yellow VW Beetle in my driveway. “Madame Flora drives a bug?”

  “We drive the bug,” Marie said. “Grandma drives a Hummer.” The twins came over to us, wiping their hands on a towel.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Rose said.

  “We’re having juice and coffee,” Marie said.

  “And we were going to have sweet rolls, before you let them burn.”

  “Girls,” Madame Flora said, with a slight edge in her voice. She went back to the table.

  “What kind of juice?” Berry asked.

  “It’s a mix,” Rose said. “There was only a little bit of orange juice, and cup of grape juice, and since there still wasn’t enough, we added some lemon juice, sugar, and water.”

  Berry grimaced. “Coffee sounds good. You have cream?”

  Marie shook her head. “No, there was none. We added some hot chocolate mix into the coffee, though. Everybody likes chocolate, right?”

  Val bit her lip and looked at the floor. She caught my eye and we both burst out laughing. “I’ll take whatever you two are serving,” I said.

  The front door opened. “Scott, what’s with the spooky guys outside of Santa’s house?” Mom called.

  “We’re in here,” I said.

  “Madame Flora, girls, Berry,” Dad said. He looked at Val and stuck out his hand. “I’m Scott’s dad.” He nodded to Mom. “And this is his mom.”

  Val smiled. “I’m Val.” She shook both their hands.

  “So what’s going on?” Dad asked as the eight of us sat down around the table.

  I got them up to speed, and then Val and I explained our alleged death in the guesthouse explosion. “We’re buying time to get Flora and Berry someplace safe,” Val said.

  “Bob is sitting in a limo just out of sight,” I said. “He’s ready to take you guys to Sterling.” I looked at them. “If you’re willing to go.”

  Berry nodded. “If that’s the way to get me into Soul Identity, that’s the way I’m going.”

  Madame Flora laughed. “And of course I’m willing. I wouldn’t miss this for the
world. But the girls are coming, too.”

  Berry walked over to the window. “Uh oh,” he said. “We’re going to have some issues getting out of here.”

  I joined him and peeked outside. Three gray cars were in front of Berry’s house, and I could see another car parked halfway down the street.

  “We need a diversion,” Berry said.

  “But first we need a plan,” I said. “And we need to hurry. It won’t be long before they wise up and start looking in my windows.”

  Val pointed out the back window. “They won’t be able to follow us on the water.”

  “Wow, great idea,” I said. I turned to my parents. “Could you guys grab some fishing rods and get the boat ready to go?”

  “Of course,” Mom said.

  I called Bob on his cell phone. “Have you seen what’s happening outside of Berry’s place?” I asked.

  “I have, Mr. Scott. I had to back off a bit. That fourth car almost spotted me,” he said. “How are you going to get everybody out of your house?”

  “We’re going to take my boat.”

  “All the way to Massachusetts?”

  I was supposed to be the smart-aleck. “No, Bob, to Baltimore. You can pick them up at the Inner Harbor and drive them the rest of the way.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s meet at the dock behind the National Aquarium.”

  “Fine. But first we need a diversion,” I said. “Can you drive up and knock on Berry’s door?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked.

  “We need to get these guys paying attention to you and not to us as we hop on the boat,” I explained.

  Bob was silent for a long minute. “Okay,” he said. “When do I knock?”

  I looked at my watch. “It’s eight o’clock now. How about in thirty minutes?”

  “Okay.” He paused. “Good luck, Mr. Scott,” he said.

  “You too, Bob. Be careful, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hung up and turned to our team. “In a half hour, Bob is going to get the gray guys’ attention. That’s when we run to the boat.”

  Dad stood up. “We’d better get out there and get everything ready.” He and Mom grabbed a couple of fishing poles and a tackle box. He grinned. “Props.”