Soul Intentions

by Michael Cantwell

Several days passed. Our family unit was whole again. We decided to visit my parents in Florida. My mother had some explaining to do, and they had not seen our son in many months. Besides, Kalani and I needed time just being normal society creatures and heal some personal wounds.

  “Ok Mom, spit it out. I would have preferred to know the truth long before an old man, who I have only known as someone I learned to despise, shows up with magical chicken soup from a recipe belonging to my grandmother Madelyn, who I barely knew.”

  “’It was all done for your protection and mine. I'm sure your grandfather explained it all to you. If you still have any doubts, yes he is your true grandfather. Your father knows. It wasn't easy for us either. I grew up not understanding many things, the same as you. Sometimes each of us is called on to do things larger than we might understand. It's now time for you to find your way and seek out what you know in your heart is the right path for you. I don’t have any other secrets, nor does your father. I would caution you not to tell your wife. The Council has many eyes and ears in our community. I know you believe you're immune from any punishment, but I wouldn't tempt fate.”

  Secrets, soul stealing, offering redemption, raising a child from a distance, it was all taking a toll on me. Physically, I was never stronger once I recovered from restoring Kalani to full strength, but mentally, the stress exhausted me.

  The next day while relaxing on the beach and listening to the radio, I heard an advertisement for a fundraiser for a local politician. There was to be a concert the next day with Dylan James and the Overture playing on behalf of a local Congressman. I dug out Carl Peterson’s office number and gave him a call. After a few hours and a donation to the cause, Kalani and I had back stage passes to the event. I had asked about good seats, but apparently once Dylan caught wind that the tickets were for me, our seats were upgraded to back stage passes. We were even invited to the sound check the following day.

  Kalani and I were ushered back stage the following afternoon. There was Dylan James and his band, his agent Carl Peterson and a few other people I didn't recognize.

  Dylan was barking instructions. “Come on, we've played this song hundreds of times. We need to make this tight.”

  I stood in the shadows, something I was very adept at doing. After what appeared to me as a long rehearsal, well much longer than Johnny and his band ever bothered with, Dylan wiped his brow and strolled over to offer some choice words.

  “It will be a miracle if we pull this off tonight. It has been a long time since we played as a band and it shows. We had a couple of rehearsals the past few days and there are a few people on stage we are not used to playing with, but hopefully we can rock this place later tonight.”

  “I’m sure you will be great Dylan, the band sounded terrific," I said. "You look great. How have you been feeling?”

  Dylan offered a crooked smile and replied, “My drummer is never on time for sound checks, my youngest daughter thinks she can pick up her instrument and not have to work at it, my wife stuffs me with her cooking, my agent wants me to put out another recording and my back is aching. But I wouldn't trade a damn minute of it for the world. I don’t know what happened back in London, Cale, but whatever you did, it saved my life. Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything really. You had to want to see the good things in your life again and you did. That’s really all that happened.”

  “We both know it was more than that. I wish you would tell me what really happened, because I was truly lost. Then whammo it was almost as if my soul was returned to me. I'll admit in my youth, I was a spiritual person, but after the accident, I don’t know, my friend Gordy told me, I had lost my soul. I think maybe he was right, and somehow you returned it to me. Am I frigging crazy or what?”

  The gates opened to the Amphitheatre and a few people straggled close to the stage. I knew it wasn't a conversation that should be done hastily on a performance stage, but then again, no time like the present. Who knew if I would ever meet Dylan again?

  “Dylan my dear friend, if you really want to know, my job was always to take from people who could not appreciate life. Some were just bad people. Others like you, who lost their way. l helped them see life was not all bad. In truth, I restored your soul. You were my first. The fact that you seem so pleased to be living life again, has given me renewed faith that I did the right thing. So really I should be thanking you.”

  I could feel the presence of my wife and others listening in on our private conversation. I introduced Kalani to Dylan. In return, Dylan introduced us to the man for whom the benefit concert was being held.

  “Yo, Cale and Kalani, meet George McAdams. The guy’s a wiz banger with investments, but for some insane reason, he got himself all mixed up in politics. Personally, I think he's a crazy fool for wanting to work in Washington, but the guy helped to stock my bank account over the years, so it’s the least I could do for the knucklehead. Really it gave me an excuse to jam with some old worn out players again like me, but George is a fine man, so it was payback time.”

  “Nice to meet you, George," I said. "Be careful of those politicians in Washington, some need a tune up on their souls.”

  George laughed, “Yeah, I didn’t mean to pry in on your chat with Dylan, but it seems you're the man to talk with if anyone gives me a hard time. I’ve known Dylan since I was in college. I don’t really know if you had something to do with his reversal of fortune or not, but if you did, one day you will have to tell me what you did. I might be able to put your talents to good use in Washington.”

  “I have worked for the same group all my life, but who knows, one day we may cross paths again. Good luck with your election.”

  Kalani grabbed my arm and yanked me off the performance stage. It seemed only the four of us were standing there as hundreds of people were filling the seats close to the stage. An hour later, the show began, and I enjoyed every minute of it. It was exactly what I needed to put my own life back into perspective.

  After our quick visit to Florida, we traveled back home to California as a family unit. I was back to the grind of looting from others and taking commands from the Council. Every time I ripped out a soul, I put in my report how I thought I could offer each soul a chance at redemption. However, I would admit the thought of it at times was even distasteful to me. It was difficult at times for me to think some souls had a redeeming value.

  After a few easy missions to get me back in a groove, the Council assigned me the daunting task of removing the soul from a dictator of a small African nation. Adai Amine was a ruthless man, who kidnapped young boys, then later use them as soldiers to protect drug smugglers working from his tiny empire. Amine wasn't going to be an easy target, since he was constantly surrounded by his well-paid militia.

  Amine declared himself President after taking over the country’s small army. It was a country which was on the western border of Africa, with many small islands along the coastline. Amine would allow drug smugglers from Latin America to use the tiny islands as stopping points to smuggle cocaine into Europe. His soul was slated for theft for many years. Two of our men were killed attempting to get close enough to complete their assignment. I suspected this was a suicide mission and the Council knew it.

  “Council members, with all due respect, why not allow government authorities through groups like the United Nations handle a case like Amine? I mean we have lost two of our family to his bloody regime. I do not like my odds of success.”

  “Shall I assume you're turning down our request and not living up to your agreement with this Council that if we allowed you to restore your wife’s soul, you would take on any mission?”

  “No Elder Orcus, but here again, if large nations with all their fire power cannot control this bastard, why should you believe I could?”

  “Because, Caeles, you're the best we have. Unfortunately, most sovereign nations have ignored his wickedness. We're charged with eliminating evil, even when it’s difficult. Would you not agree?”

>   “I would, but I could remove five or ten souls before I could take this one with far less risk to my safety. Or is this your ultimate goal? You want to eliminate me as a soldier on a mission because you know I cannot be silenced any other way?”

  Members of the Council stared back at me for questioning their intent. I knew I had pushed the barrier too far, but I wanted them to understand I knew this mission was a no lose proposition for some of them. If I succeeded, another evil person would be without a soul. If I failed, one large thorn in their side would be eliminated. I looked at my grandfather. He did everything he could not to make eye contact. Once again, the puppet on the string was about to do another dance.

  How do you get close to a well-guarded man, who uses body doubles and is rarely seen in public? I had to decide between posing as a drug trafficker looking for safe haven, or possibly a messenger from the United Nations offering a peace accord. Possibly, I could offer a truce that if he stopped kidnapping boys from neighboring lands; the United Nations would look the other way to his drug exploits. Either way, the odds of returning from his inner sanctum were not in my favor.

  Being the resourceful soul stealer that I was, I called the one Congressman I had met, George McAdams. The newly minted Congressman was in a budget debate that was ruffling feathers in Washington. He seemed eager to be seen as more than someone with only one agenda.

  McAdams jumped at the opportunity to introduce me to members of the State Department. After a few weeks of negotiating, the State Department allowed me to be a special envoy to meet with Adai Amine and explain to him that if he stopped kidnapping boys to act as military guards, the US Navy wouldn't block any ships from leaving his country’s coast line. It should have been an easy sell to the State Department, since the United States wasn't blocking any ships anyway.

  President Morrison was about to start his reelection efforts. Any foreign affairs victory would only be a benefit. However, since nothing moved quickly in Washington other than bureaucrats increasing their own wealth, it still took weeks to pull the trip together.

  Since I was an unknown quantity to the international and the United States press corps, if I failed or worse was killed, no one would ever know I was in the country. The State Department wouldn't release any details of my trip, unless I succeeded. It was a winning hand for the United States. I now had an official reason to meet with a foreign leader with the backing of the President of the United States.

  Before leaving, I met with the member of the State Department, who had been arranging the trip. William Hillary made sure I understood I was on my own.

  “Mr. Novo, should you become detained against your wishes, the State Department will make no official statements on your behalf. Your visit will have been at your own risk. We have no way of protecting you. However, we do wish you success. Should Amine accept the terms set forth in this letter, there will be a press conference here at the Department and it will be touted that the President of the United States convinced Adai Amine to stop kidnapping boys, but there will be no mention of allowing any drug smuggling. Do you understand the terms of our agreement in allowing you to make this journey?”

  “I do Mr. Hillary, but I would like Congressman McAdams to be mentioned as the one who had the idea, should it be a success.”

  He laughed. “Mr. McAdams will get the recognition of introducing you to the State Department, but it was of course the President’s idea. The State Department will make sure Mr. Amine is well aware of your visit and we'll handle your travel arrangements. Good luck to you, sir.”

  Three long days later, I was on an airplane to Dakur, then another small plane, followed by a trip in the back of a supply truck, and a few miles on foot to get to my destination more than thirty hours later. Several average sized men with larger than average sized guns met me at the edge of the compound.

  The frowns on their faces and the fact that they made me strip naked to check for weapons, or who knows what else, did not offer me an easy feeling before meeting Amine. After waiting another night, sleeping in a small room with the only breeze being a warm one, I was ready to end this charade as quickly as possible. My only fear was how I would get away from the armed guards before I needed my usual respite after taking a soul.

  The next afternoon after enduring the sweltering heat of the midday in my tiny room with one window, I was shoved into a dirty jeep with no top. We drove along a muddy road until we reached a straw hut in the middle of a small fishing village. People scurried in every direction. Most were barefoot with little clothing, while a few were well dressed in army attire. The nose of a rifle nudged to get out of the jeep and directed inside the hut.

  “Hallo, Mister Ambassador. I am Adia Amine. I am told you seek me. Yes? I am sorry for de long wait, but you see I am busy man. State your business then be on your way.”

  “Mr. Amine, I'm here by the request of the President of the United States of America. I was asked to speak with you about some young boys that you have possibly detained here in your camp. The President has given me the authority to tell you that should you release them back to their families and discontinue this practice in the future, the United States Navy will not set up a blockade for ships leaving your shores.”

  The large bellied man wearing army fatigues looked at me as if I had a third eye. He looked at his men, then at me again.

  “You come to my home, my country, and think you tell Adai Amine what he do and do not do? Do you like your tongue, Mr. Ambassador?”

  “I do, Sir.”

  “Then you tell your President that if he sends you to speak to Adia Amine again like I am his slave to dictate his stupid words, you will not return with your tongue. Do you think I live in fear of the paper lion across the sea?”

  “I'm only the messenger, Mr. Amine. I don’t dare offer you advice, but the Americans have a powerful army. If you offered the President more than a simple no, you might find a friendly face and army should you ever need one. It's something to consider, Mr. Amine. President Morrison doesn't have the love of his people like you do, and is facing an election. He was asking you, President Amine, for help. If you were to help him, I think he would look kindly on you should you need help from the United States in the future.”

  Amine rubbed his belly and laughed. “You take me for stupid man, don’t you, Mr. Ambassador? Your President has sent men to kill Amine, why would he now offer favors?”

  “President Amine, maybe he knows this is his way of making peace.”

  He again stared me in the eye and looked defiantly around the room. He grabbed a pistol from his belt and put the barrel to my skull.

  “Your President does not want peace. He wants my head at the end of a gun, like this. Because Adia Amine is a peaceful man, you can go home to your gutless President. You may tell him that I do not take commands or make agreements with men who would rather shoot me, than offer your fake promise of peace. Do you think I care about the men on ships, who leave my country? I offer a resting place. They are not my people. Once they leave my home, I offer them nothing. If your President stops them, it is not Amine’s problem. And, I do not take little boys from other places. They come here for work and money. Do I look like a cruel man to you?”

  I didn’t think honesty was my best choice at the moment considering the end of his pistol was pushing hard against my temple.

  “I believe you to be a peaceful man, who was certainly misjudged, President Amine. I will tell President Morrison you are an honorable man, who only offers a safe harbor to passing ships.”

  He took three steps away removing the end of his gun from my skull.

  “You are a liar and weak so I warn you. Do not return to my country, Ambassador, unless you bring joyful news and not commands from a man, who does not have the courage to find Adai Amine himself. He sends weak men like you to speak with Amine. I piss on him. If he was a real man, he would come himself. Now leave.”

  “I will Mr. President and thank you. May I shake your hand and thank you
for you kindness in meeting with me?”

  He moved closer and extended his hand. I took it and looked directly into his eyes. I felt the sensation I get every time I rip out a soul. I heard thunder in the distance and could hear the rain now pelting the roof of the hut. Amine let go of my hand and laughed at me. I knew I had succeeded in removing his soul, but I also became instantly aware at how little it affected him in losing it. Here was a true non-believer.

  “Even your handshake is weak to Amine. Tell your President, Adia Amine hopes his shake is stronger. Now go weak man. My men are too busy. Find your own way to the border. I hope you find it before the lions find you.”

  The butt of a rifle shoved me to the door and out into the driving rain. I didn't understand it. I knew I had succeeded in taking his soul, yet he laughed at me. He seemed like he never felt a thing.

  I found my way back to a quiet spot, where I could sit and recharge. After getting drenched from the rain, someone approached me in a jeep.

  “Hurry, get in.”

  I jumped in not knowing what was going on, but I was lost in a small African nation, what did I have to lose?

  "I’m Darin Weston. I was sent by the US Government to bring you back, well if alive, and if not, to bury you.”

  “Thanks for all the help when that monster had a gun to my head.”

  “Yeah well, sorry but I was told to keep a distance, because we aren't officially here. I can offer you safety back to Dakur; then you're on your own. By the way, if Amine didn’t stick a gun in your ear, you’d be the first. He’s not totally insane. He knows if he actually killed someone from the States, his head wouldn't hit the pillow later that night. We could eliminate him anytime the President gave the order, but he's no threat to the US. We would like to stop him from kidnapping those boys, but the bottom line is if we killed him, his successor would just continue the same nasty habits. It’s the only reason why he still walks upright.”

  I really didn’t care about the politics of it all. Amine was an evil man, who didn’t deserve to be President of anything, but it wasn't my job to control him. Mr. Weston made sure I arrived safely in Dakur, where I made my way back in front of the Council.

  “We are pleased with the job you did in Africa, Caeles. Amine is a strong willed man, who has evil in his veins. He will continue to wreak havoc, however our mission with him has concluded. It's time you leave that mission behind you now and focus on Kalani. She has ventured back to Hawaii when her assignment was in Arizona. So far, she hasn't taken any unauthorized souls. But I would suggest you get her out of Hawaii.”

  “Elders, how do you know she's not going back home for a visit or mini vacation? Why do you assume she will disobey?”

  “Paulo Kapono is walking around with his soul restored. Tell me, Caeles, how that could happen? You stole his soul. We had our people keep an eye on your wife and she's been in contact with Kapono on several occasions. I would suggest you fix this problem of yours before we do.”

  I had no clue who restored Kapono’s soul, but there was more than one way to put that rat out of business. Kalani would have to find another way to find cash and forget about Paulo Kapono.

  CHAPTER Twenty Six