Soul Scent: A Zackie Story (The Zackie Stories Book 2)

by Reyna Favis

  “Yeah, we’re trying this new thing where we graze them on the same pasture with the cattle. It’s been working out really well. The goats don’t go MIA so much, since the cattle don’t want to go anywhere and the goats want to stick with the herd – but, why do you care?”

  “Nevermind. Sorry. Just getting distracted.” I shook my head a little to clear the goat thoughts and I tried for some gentle pressure. “Two or three days would be great, if you can do it. Just let me know when you know. And thank you so much for trying. I know this is a huge imposition.” Before I forgot, I made a final request. “And Ron? Can you give me your cell number? I really don’t want to have to run Lenora’s gauntlet again.”

  Ron laughed and I wrote down the number he gave me. After we hung up, I took a breather to give my stomach acid a chance to subside. Sitting on the floor, I took four deep breaths and tried to relax. I hadn’t exactly achieved a clear victory – maybe he’d come – and revisiting my past was like going through an emotional meat grinder. Those were the bad old days and if it were solely up to me, I would put a tight lid on that box of memories and cast it into the sea.

  I had a narrow escape from that life and I was pretty sure I was on a better path now. But was it maybe a case of escaping the frying pan and willingly walking into the fire? Just because I now chose to interact with the dead didn’t mean that this was how I should live my life. Rubbing the scar on my temple, I thought it also didn’t mean that I was any safer than before. Maybe my life wasn’t heading in the direction I had hoped. There was still nothing on the horizon resembling a house with a white picket fence and two point five kids playing in the yard.

  I pulled off the cotton glove and stared at the dead hand to remind myself where things stood. Had I merely redefined normal and just went with the flow when Cam and Zackie presented an alternative? I remember being desperate enough at the time to be open to any alternative. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something out there that would make it possible for me to get out completely and never have to deal with the dead. I cast my eyes down, knowing I should be grateful for what I had and not go around wasting my energy wishing for a pipe dream. But sometimes, just sometimes, I longed for a peaceful place and a little time where I wouldn’t always have to be on my guard.

  Shaking my head, I put the glove back on, hauled myself to my feet and put an end to the pity party. We had two spirits who weren’t any closer to crossing over and they were suffering in ways I couldn’t even imagine. I grabbed my phone and dialed Cam to let him know that Ron was on board, more or less. Possibly less.

  Cam was ever the optimist. “He’ll come.”

  “What makes you so certain? I think the situation will obey Murphy's Quantum Law.”

  “Murphy’s Law, I’ve heard of. What the devil are you talking about?”

  “Anything that can, could have, or will go wrong, is going wrong, all at once.”

  “Okay, that I buy into –”

  “Wait, I’m not done. There’s a corollary. If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe or pregnancy, then someone will do it.”

  Chuckling, Cam tried to refute my unassailable logic. “Look, Ron is someone who has suffered, right?” He continued without waiting for my reply. “Because of this, he understands what it means to endure suffering and it will not sit well on his conscience to allow our Lenape friend to remain in this unenviable state of limbo for the rest of eternity. He’ll come.”

  As I was about to argue some more, Cam asked me to hang on, that he had another call coming through. While I waited, I grabbed plates and a mug from the dish drain in an attempt to at least restore full order to my domain.

  “Fia?”

  Balancing the phone against my ear with my shoulder, I returned first the plates and then the mug to their respective cabinets. “I’m here and I decided I’m not a big fan of call waiting.”

  “Nevermind that. A friend from the Express Times just called. He said they’re holding a wake for Maggie in a few hours at Saint John’s Methodist Church. They must have released the body.”

  “Huh. I didn’t hear anything from Jill about – Wait…Isn’t that the church in Hope Township near the Moravian Cemetery?”

  “The very one. You should have pleasant memories of your first success in laying a spirit when we return there tonight.”

  The memory brought back the feeling of nausea rising up against a swollen tongue and I rubbed my forearms, feeling again the raised postules from smallpox erupting on my healthy skin. There were a lot of events related to helping lost souls pass over that I didn’t need to remember.

  Shuddering, I forced John Lewis Luckenbach out of my mind and focused on Maggie. “So, we’re going to the wake to meet friends or family who can tell us about Maggie, right? What are the odds that we learn something that will help us to free her? It’s a wake. All they’ll tell us is what a wonderful person she was.”

  “Well, there is a zero percent probability of learning anything if we don’t go. What do you think of those odds?”

  “You don’t have to get snippy. I’m just managing expectations –”

  “I’ll let you know when I find your tail, Eeyore.” Cam drawled out the words.

  “All right, all right. Just tell me when I have to be there and I’ll be there.”

  # # #

  Before entering the church, I stole a glance towards the deepening shadows at the back of the churchyard. Mr. Luckenbach’s grave was marked by a worn flat stone, not visible from where I stood. I knew its approximate location and, without meaning to, I probed to sense his presence. The space was empty, he had moved on. It gave me a lift to know we’d succeeded with him.

  Satisfied, I pulled open the bright red church door and stepped inside. The church smelled of lemon oil, and the woodwork on the pews and walls glowed in the warm light. Scanning the room, Maggie’s closed casket sat on a dais at the front of the church, but there was no sign of Maggie’s spirit. About thirty people milled about in somber circles, heads bent and voices low. I drifted among the circles and listened to the friends and family talk about Maggie.

  “She was so sweet. I worked with her for five years and she never forgot my birthday…”

  “I’m going to miss seeing her on Sundays. She was such a big part of this church. I’m glad they decided to do the wake here.”

  “She wanted that baby more than anything in the world. Such a tragedy!”

  “Maybe now she and Greg can be together again…”

  It was everything I expected and it was also so much worse. These people really loved Maggie and of course they said nice things about her, but they were suffering deeply with their loss. The suicide had stripped them emotionally raw and I could feel the aching wounds in their hearts made by the woman who left them so violently and so suddenly. I almost headed for the exit to escape their anguish, but I forced myself to stay and learn what I could to help Maggie.

  An open door to the right provided access to a gathering room where a long table held bottled drinks, finger sandwiches, cookies and cake for those who came to pay their respects. Balancing a piece of cake on a paper plate, Cam stood near the table, deep in conversation with a woman. She had a Mona Lisa quality about her. Her eyes were gentle and she had a generous mouth, but her features were drawn down by the weight of grief, making it impossible to judge her age. Her shoulders stooped and her gestures were slow and tired. She was barely holding it together.

  When he noticed me at his elbow, Cam brought me into the conversation. “This is Fia. She was also on the search.” As I shook her hand, Cam introduced the grieving woman as Maggie’s sister, Katherine.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss.” Katherine thanked me and then appeared distracted for a moment, her eyes darting aimlessly around the room. How many times had she responded to similar words of condolence? Still, I had nothing better to offer.

  Coming back from her reverie, Katherine focused on my eyes and
then searched Cam’s face for something. She appeared to find what she was looking for and her posture relaxed. “I want to thank you both for finding my sister. Please tell the other searchers that I am grateful for their help.” I shifted uneasily, unsure how to respond. To my relief, she continued speaking and spared me from saying something inadequate. “I wish I could say that all of this was unexpected, but she was never the same after the accident. I should have seen the signs and done something.”

  Cam urged her on, his voice quiet and gentle. “It must have been terrible for her, losing her husband.”

  “It was…it was just awful.” Katherine wiped away a tear. “Everything was so happy one moment – they were finally going to have a baby…they’d been trying for so long. Maggie and Greg were decorating the nursery and buying baby things…and then it all got taken away.” The tears began falling in earnest and she grabbed a napkin from the table. “But Maggie was strong. I think she could have survived Greg’s loss eventually.” Katherine blotted her face with the napkin and took a deep breath.

  I touched her arm, uncertain how to ease her. “Then why? Why would she take her own life?”

  “She had a head injury, did you know that?” Katherine looked from me to Cam before continuing. “She was different after that. It was the voices…she couldn’t make them stop. They gave her brain scans, antipsychotics, the whole nine yards. She tried, she really, really tried. Nothing helped.”

  Cam slanted his eyes at me at this revelation, but then turned his full attention back to Katherine. “There was nothing you could have done.” He gave her a penetrating look as she shook her head. “She was getting help. What happened was not your fault.” Katherine stopped shaking her head and then bit her lip as she stared into the distance. This was a start. At least she appeared to be thinking about it.

  Katherine sighed. “She was my sister. I should have taken better care of her.”

  I pulled her into a gentle embrace. “You did the best you could. That’s all anyone can do.” As I said the words, a little bit of weight dropped from my shoulders. It felt like dandruff, but I had to be honest with myself and admit that Maggie was a tough case. We had also done the best we could under the circumstances. I just wished we could do this faster for Maggie. With new information, maybe we could move closer to freeing her in the next round.

  # # #

  “I told you so.” Cam’s eyes glinted with triumph.

  I moved toward the next bright pink length of flagging tape en route to Maggie and struggled to come up with a witty response. “Shut up.”

  I hadn’t slept well the night before because my dreams were full of blood, disembodied voices, and Maggie. I was suffering from a wicked headache and my temples were throbbing. We had done this trip so many times that I felt like I was on a first name basis with every briar patch along the way. I was in no mood to play, but this made little difference to Cam and Zackie. Spying the next piece of flapping pink tape, I advanced towards it with Zackie gamboling about my heels like a puppy. She was doing this on purpose to irritate me, so I ignored her and trudged on. Bored with me, Zackie drifted towards Cam.

  “I will not shut up. I have quite a low success rate of being right in this world and I will not squander the opportunity to crow when I am right.” Cam swore as he tripped over Zackie and almost went sprawling. “Bloody hound! I’m having my moment. Don’t interrupt me.”

  I stopped trudging and closed my eyes. “All right. You were right. We learned something worth knowing at the wake.” I rubbed my throbbing temples. “How are we going to use this information to help Maggie?”

  “Take a break.” My eyes flew open as Cam gripped my elbow and guided me to a fallen tree. “Here, sit.” I slipped off my pack and perched on the tree trunk. Cam rummaged through his pack and handed me a bottle of coconut water and some aspirin. “Take some prophylactically. It’s not going to get better after we meet with Maggie.”

  The wisdom of his words penetrated my painful brain. “Thanks.”

  I chugged down the bottle of coconut water and after a few more moments to let me recover, Cam took up the topic of Maggie again. “We can fit together two pieces of the puzzle at this point. When we first spoke to Maggie, she kept telling us that we weren’t there, right?” I nodded. “We were just two more voices in the cacophony. Whether she continues to hear other voices or if this is part of her perimortem suffering, and now she’s just remembering the voices, I don’t know.”

  “You think the voices were real?”

  “I do. A head injury can re-wire the neural circuitry in odd ways. It’s probably a one in a billion event that certain synapses form links between just the right neurons to make neurotypical brains more like our brains, but it does happen.”

  “Holy crap…” I rubbed my temples with renewed vigor. “Now you’re telling me I have to be a neuroscientist to understand this stuff?”

  Cam grinned. “I learned this stuff from my sister. She’s the one I told you about who counsels people with past life traUma.”

  “I remember you telling me about your family. You also have a brother who does spirit attachment work, right?”

  “Yes, and there are other, more distant family with other callings. Anyway, Essex –”

  “Really? Essex? Her name is Essex? That name must have been a real joy to her when she was an adolescent.”

  “Anyway…” Cam let the word draw out, waiting to see if I’d interrupt again. “Essex is trained in biological psychiatry. When we first met, you mentioned that people like us must spend a lot of time trying to self-diagnose. Well, Essex took that to a whole other level.”

  “So, as your sister Essex would see it, Maggie’s head traUma changed her brain and made her suddenly able to hear the dead?” Cam nodded. My eyes widened and I put my hand to my mouth. “That must have been horrifying for her. I was born to it and I never really adjusted.”

  Cam raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s what put her over the edge.”

  Jumping to my feet, I pulled on my pack with a new sense of urgency. “We need to find Maggie.” I left Cam in the dust as I set out, headache and fatigue forgotten. Zackie seemed pleased with my faster pace and ran ahead to each marker, leading the way. With his longer stride, Cam caught up with me just as I reached the clearing and we both stopped short when Maggie stepped towards us, bloody hands raised. For a moment, I thought she would claw my face, but the psychopomp moved forward with animal grace and softly planted her front paws on Maggie’s chest. The spirit sobbed and held her in an embrace. What Maggie wanted, what she was reaching for, was Zackie and the comfort she offered.

  The two separated and Zackie led Maggie to the center of the clearing. The hound circled and then lay down as the natural colors of the woods seeped out of my vision. Maggie sat, hip against flank, wrapping her arms around Zackie. As painful and devastating as our last visit had been for Maggie, she had learned the psychopomp was the only thing in this world that could give her relief. She would not run from us again.

  I sat on the ground facing Maggie, my legs crossed under me. Cam grunted as he lowered himself nearby. “Can’t we ever have a conversation standing up?”

  “Maggie? Katherine told us that you started hearing voices after the accident. Do you still hear them?” I leaned forward, willing her to interact with me.

  She looked at me through filmy eyes and whispered. “Less now.”

  “What did the voices say?” Cam asked.

  Her face broke and the tears started again. “He said they’d come and take the baby from me.”

  “He? Who is he?” Cam frowned and leaned forward.

  “I don’t know… I don’t know…” She took a shuddering breath and paused, squinting her eyes as she concentrated. “He said I shouldn’t do it.”

  “Shouldn’t do what?” I clasped my hands around my elbows and tried to keep my frustration in check. Between the blunted sound of everything ringing in my ears and her vague attributions, I was having trouble focusing and
my irritation was rising. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to concentrate on what she said.

  “Use the gun. I shouldn’t have used the gun. I should have listened… Apëwi këlukahëla.” Her hands flew to her head and she began rocking and weeping.

  My eyes shot open and my gut dropped as if I were on a carnival ride. I knew the rhythm of those words and through Maggie, I understood the meaning. “He said you give up too easily?”

  “I needed it to stop… I needed them to stop talking to me.” Maggie shuddered and began pulling at her hair, a thin wail escaping her lips.

  Cam crept to a kneeling position and touched her arm. “It’s okay, Maggie. We understand how frightening it was for you.”

  “I couldn’t take it, but I knew if I made it stop, I’d harm the baby.” Maggie wrapped her arms around her torso and rocked. “It was my fault that the baby got hurt. I deserved the pain. I should be punished.” She was rocking harder and gasping. Her pain was a terrible thing to watch and I launched to my feet to do something, but I had no idea what. Zackie jumped up as well and ran a tight circle around Maggie, keeping me back. When Maggie reached out blindly, the psychopomp dove into her arms and yielded to her embrace. Groaning as the pain passed through her, Maggie held on until the tendons nearly broke through the papery skin of her arms. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” Maggie’s agitation escalated and her image began flickering, like tiny lightning strikes. We had to let her phase out or she would continue to suffer.

  Cam kept contact with her, touching her arm. “Maggie, we’re going to let you go, okay? It’s all right to go now. We’ll come back later.”

  Maggie nodded, jerking her head as if she were having a seizure. When she released Zackie, the edges of her silhouette blurred and she faded from our view as the waves of despair crashed down on us.

  I stumbled out of the clearing and threw up in a bush. Spitting and wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I ran forward blindly, the only clear thought being that I needed to put distance between Maggie and me. I could hear Cam crashing through the woods on my left, in similar distress, and urgently trying to get away. Zackie ran in front of me and forced me to veer left, closer to Cam. She circled us and then pushed us left again. We reached the fallen tree, a familiar landmark, thanks to her herding, and at last staggered to a halt.