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

by Reyna Favis

  “Patient zero had recently returned from an affected cruise to the Bahamas and had waited until visiting this restaurant to become symptomatic.” Gander’s cheek twitched as he related the story. Since most of our work either involved human tragedy or was deeply disgusting by anyone’s standards, demonstrating amusement over the current situation was excusable. “Restaurant management was understandably perturbed by the possible repercussions of an infected guest and rather than take any chances, they called us in.” Gander next split us into two teams. Goose and I would tackle the dining room, while he and Rory took care of the kitchen.

  “Pretty swanky food hut.” Goose surveyed the dining area and although it was stripped of all its finery, the room still had an ambience.

  “You should see it when they’re serving. A friend invited me to dinner here once.” I related the story of the food avalanche to Goose while we prepped the bleach solution for surface decontamination.

  “Cheah, that’s the only other way we make it into places like this. A friend’s gotta break out the corpo card.” Goose ripped open a bag of clean towels and set to work swabbing the table tops. “At least you didn’t end up dropping a depth charge on your ride home.”

  I giggled and grabbed a towel. “No, I didn’t have to pull over once driving back. Never got sick. I think we were here long before patient zero.”

  I dipped my towel in the bleach solution and hummed as I wiped down table after table. Next, we tackled the chairs and while Gander and Rory worked on the bathrooms, Goose and I finished up by treating the carpets with some Thermo-55 disinfectant. Rory was kept well away from me during the entire job. It appeared that whatever plans the dead hand might have had for him were thwarted by Gander’s skills as a manager.

  After we completed the final touches, treating all door knobs and any other area that might be touched by a human hand with the bleach solution, we assembled outside and began stripping duct tape from the hazmat suits before showering off. Angela, the doe-eyed waitress from that fateful night out, found us in the parking area as we returned our equipment to JoJo Kennelly. I waved to her and her eyes lit up with recognition.

  “Looks like you’re dressed for another meal with me.” Angela grinned as she looked me up and down. “I thought you waited tables like me.”

  “Former life. I kind of sucked at it, so this is what I do now.” I felt a nudge in my ribs from Goose, who was looking at Angela with deep interest, so I introduced the crew.

  “Nice meeting you folks.” Angela gave a little wave in lieu of shaking anyone’s gloved hand. “My manager sent me out to invite everyone back for some free drinks when we do the grand re-opening. The place is sparkling and they wanted to show their appreciation for a job well done.” The crew thanked her for the invitation and she gave another little wave as she went back into the restaurant.

  I looked at Gander for confirmation. “Wow, that’s pretty generous of them. Are we allowed to take them up on this invitation?”

  Goose followed Angela with his eyes as she retreated. “I’d like to creedle into some sectors…”

  Gander raised his eyebrows at this comment, so I translated for him. “I think Goose has taken a shine to Angela.” What he really said was that he wanted to hang out with this hot chick, but I thought Gander needed to hear a more sanitized version of this sentiment.

  Nodding, Gander answered my question. “There’s no company policy against it. But just so you know, this is their little way of making sure that the job really is well done. If we’re willing to return and partake of their offerings, then we have confidence that we have eradicated the norovirus from their premises.”

  I shrugged. “Free is free and we do a really thorough job. I have no problem coming back.” There was general agreement with this statement from everyone except Rory, who remained silent and avoided eye contact with me. Just as well, since I had no use for him either and I had no desire to incite the dead hand. Aside from his silence, Rory appeared sullen and withdrawn, and I wondered how much his work time with Gander had to do with it. Maybe he would decide against socializing with the team when the restaurant reopened and either quit on his own or get reassigned. Aside from the morning antics, the dead hand was quiescent and did not appear to be threatening violence, at least for the moment. The grommet made my skin crawl and his presence violated my sense of justice, but I did not believe he deserved the death penalty for being an asshat. Slowly and casually, I maneuvered myself farther away, placing JoJo and Gander between the grommet and me.

  I finished my work day with a cleansing shower and headed home. I had just enough time to walk Heckle and Jeckle before picking Ron up at the bus station. The plan was to bring him to Cam’s house, since a real guest room made for a more comfortable stay. I didn’t even have a couch for him to crash on, so staying with me was out of the question. And if I were honest with myself, I needed some space from Ron. I was still a little freaked out by my past making its way into my present. We would eat dinner and fill Ron in on the Lenape spirit and then make our way over to Peyton’s house the following day. After that, it was improvisation time.

  I arrived early and stood waiting at the bus stop, chewing my cuticles and pacing. The bus pulled in five minutes late and I had managed to restrain my chewing so that only a small drop of blood appeared near my thumb nail. Weary passengers stepped off the bus and cast suspicious eyes on their new location. The eighth person to emerge from the bus was Ron. I fixed my face into an expression of welcome and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. His hair was still long and black, trailing over his shoulders in a freefall. He was no longer the skinny kid I remembered. His frame was bulked with muscle to the point where he must resemble the bulls on his ranch.

  Ron flashed me a grin and waved briefly before turning to help the next passenger to disembark. An elderly woman with a cane and an enormous purse climbed slowly down the steps of the bus. Lenora Ottertooth. Clasping an elbow to steady her descent, Ron turned back towards me with a sheepish grin. My heart kicked up a beat and my gut clenched, but I kept my face frozen in a determined expression of greeting and forced one foot in front of the other to meet them.

  Stepping around a scowling Lenora, Ron gave me a quick hug. “Yeah, so now you know why it took a while to get here. Uma wanted to come and she gets stiff if she sits too long. We needed to take some travel breaks.”

  Impossibly, the scowl deepened on Lenora’s face as Ron stepped away, but I nodded and kept the stiff smile plastered on my face. “I’m very glad you both could come.” I recited the words and then decided that I better blink and risk some genuine tears at this turn of events.

  “You go get the bags.” Lenora pushed Ron in the direction of the accumulating pile of luggage that was being extricated from the bowels of the bus. When I stood there uncertainly with half formed phrases of small talk rolling around in my mouth, she scowled and made a shooing motion at me. “You go get your car.”

  Doing as I was bidden, I found my car and pulled it up to the curb just in time to watch Ron’s determined progress, hidden in a moving pile of blue and yellow luggage that slowly made its way towards the pickup zone. Lenora walked in front, guiding Ron as he kicked two bags with casters in front of him, dragged another two behind him with the aid of straps looped around his wrists, which were otherwise occupied with balancing two additional bags under each arm. He gripped the final two bags by their handles in meaty fists. I took a look at this mountain of stuff and worried that they would never leave.

  I jumped out of the car and popped the trunk. “Here, let me help you with that.” I reached for one of the kicked bags as it flew towards me and loaded it into the trunk. Ron was smiling cheerfully and not at all out of breath as he wrangled the remaining luggage to the gaping trunk.

  Setting his burden down, Ron put his hands on his hips and surveyed the trunk. “Um, you’ve got a lot of equipment back here. We can maybe fit another two bags if we rearrange.” He moved and stacked until some promising holes
opened up in the collection of SAR equipment and he was able to squeeze in the prophesied bags. “I can fit some of it in the backseat and still have room for me, but…” He scratched his head and then made a hopeful exclamation. “Ah! Just what the doctor ordered.” Yanking out a duffel bag with a broken zipper from the trunk, Ron revealed my stash of webbing, old, expired cord and carabiners.

  Working together, we lashed several bags to the roof of my vehicle and crammed the remainder into the backseat. Ron crawled in behind the luggage, contorting arms and legs into a conformation that was compatible with the front seat distance and getting a seatbelt to secure. Closing the door on Ron, I stood waiting for a beat until I realized that Lenora expected me to open her door. Standing stock still with her hands grasping her enormous purse, her eyes darted to the door and then to me, back to the door and then to me. I helped her into the car.

  We pulled out and after a few minutes on local roads, made it to route 33 and then the slow lane of Route 78 East. I imagined that the TV addicts among the commuters whizzing by us may have had flashbacks to the Beverly Hillbillies, complete with Granny and Jethro. If Zackie had been with us, we would have a hound to complete the picture, but my gut feeling was that she would have escaped through her special portal to avoid the crowding.

  Items shifted in the back seat as Ron readjusted his space. “So, how’ve you been, Fia?”

  “Don’t you bother her when she’s driving, boy.” Lenora half turned in her seat and for a moment, I thought she’d smack him one. After a pregnant pause, satisfied that he was done bothering me, she turned to face front and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “It’s really okay, Lenora. I can carry on a conversation while I drive.”

  “You drive. Don’t talk.” Her eyes stared rigidly ahead and Ron shrugged in the rearview mirror.

  My eyes widened and I gave a small shake of my head. “Right, I drive and don’t talk. What was I thinking.”

  When we arrived at Cam’s house, he and Zackie met us in the driveway and I went ahead with the introductions, feeling confident in my ability to speak now that I was no longer driving.

  “Mwekane, màxksit,” Lenora mumbled as Zackie approached her. Dog, the red one touched my mind. Glancing at Cam, he gave a slight nod in acknowledgment of her words.

  “She said red dog,” Ron offered unnecessarily.

  “Zackie is indeed that.” Cam helped Lenora from the car and then extended a hand to Ron. “So glad you both could come.” Cam sounded sincere, but a frown creased his brow as the magnitude of the luggage we carried became evident. “It’s, er, nice that you could clear your schedules to make this short visit.” When he received no direct response regarding the length of their stay, he tried again. “Are you planning on vacationing in the area after we have completed our task?”

  Ron wore a sunny smile. “No, no plans for a vacation in the area.”

  Lenora took in Cam’s measure as he gripped her elbow to steady her. “Big man. That’s good. You can help with the luggage.” Removing her elbow from his grasp, she ambled towards his house and let herself in.

  Blushing, but still grinning, Ron shook his head. “Uma must be tired after the trip. She probably needs to rest.” He hoisted four of the blue bags, leaving the remaining mix of four blue and yellow bags to Cam and me to wrangle into the house.

  Upon entering the house, the sound of clanging pots and running water met our ears. We left the luggage in the front room and found Lenora in the kitchen, standing at the counter and extracting a bag of flour from her purse. Without turning around, she called out directions. “Bring me the yellow bag with the food and then fix up the rooms and put the rest of the luggage there. I’m cooking dinner.”

  Cam looked at me with raised eyebrows and I looked at Ron. He shrugged his shoulders in reply. “Best do as she says and no one gets hurt.” Turning on his heel, he made for the front room and grabbed a few bags. “Which room is Uma’s?”

  Cam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Right this way.”

  I wavered for a moment, wondering if I should offer to help cook or if I should go back to being a porter. The thought of all that alone time with Lenora decided it for me, and I returned to the front room and picked up some bags.

  # # #

  Dinner was served. I stuffed my face with a savory stew and hot fried bread that melted in my mouth. Dessert was a baked pudding packed with brown sugar, molasses, cinnamon and maple syrup. I was in heaven. Any thought of conversation during the meal was inconceivable after the first bite and Cam gave up trying to include me until I came up for air.

  “Oh, God. I’m stuffed. I can’t feel my legs…” I pushed back from the table and both Ron and Cam handed me napkins.

  Lenora stared at me wide-eyed, one hand on her cheek. “How’d you eat like that, little girl?”

  I dabbed at my face with the napkins. “Er, I get a lot of practice?”

  Cam cleared his throat. “Thank you for that delicious meal, Lenora.”

  “You’re welcome.” For a moment, Lenora looked pleased, but then she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head as she challenged Cam. “Why’d you not invite the tribal man? If he’s got trouble, a full belly’s the best thing for him.”

  Cam cocked an eyebrow and shifted his eyes towards Ron. “I take it you didn’t tell her anything?”

  “Naw, I thought I’d leave that to you.” Ron mumbled and stared at the napkin he crumpled between his fingers.

  “Right…” Cam cleared his throat again. “Lenora, we invited Ron here to help us translate what your tribal man says.”

  Ducking my head, I muttered softly under my breath. “So, that accounts for Ron. I’m not exactly sure why she’s here.”

  Lenora swiveled her dark eyes to meet mine and her brows came down as she spoke. “I’m here to keep this youngin’ out of trouble. And you, you’re trouble.”

  Cam grinned and his eyes shone with amusement. “She is most certainly that.” His face became serious again as he returned to the topic of the Lenape spirit. “Back to the tribal man…I did not invite him here tonight to meet you because he’s dead.”

  “The tribal man died? Oh, that’s terrible. What happened?” Lenora uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, concern etched in her face.

  I shook my head. “He didn’t die recently.”

  Lenora’s face creased in confusion and Cam picked up the conversational ball. “We think he died several hundred years ago. I don’t know what your views are on –”

  “Are you talking ancestor spirit?”

  Cam looked at me and then back to Lenora. “Yes, ancestor spirit.”

  “Crap.”

  “Why ‘crap,’ Uma?” Ron looked up from his twisted napkin and cocked his head.

  “Crap because the souls of evil people remain on earth, to visit all the places where they committed bad deeds and to be punished there. Bad news for us if this spirit’s evil.”

  Ron looked at me, his eyes wide and his face a shade paler. “Is he evil?”

  “Maybe.” I fidgeted and had trouble meeting his eyes. “Look, I don’t know for sure. Another spirit said some things that make me wonder about him, but I would not knowingly bring you in to do something dangerous. I -”

  “More possibilities.” Lenora raised a finger to interrupt me. “What soul we dealing with here?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cam scrunched his eyebrows and leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

  “The lenapeokan is the true soul, and then there’s the blood soul. The true soul is in the heart and body and looks like a person. You die when this soul leaves the body. The blood soul also leaves the body at death, but it looks like a bright ball.”

  “Are you kidding me? An orb?” I was stunned by this information. Ghost hunters like Lucas were forever taking pictures of orbs in haunted places. People always said that the images were caused by dust reflecting the camera flash and were just meaningless artifacts of photography.

  Len
ora turned her gaze to me. “That’s right. The blood soul can wander the earth forever. They’re bad. They cause paralysis, strokes, lameness…Don’t ever eat in the dark or leave a sick person in a dark room because the blood souls wander.” She rapped on the table top once with her knuckles for emphasis, to make sure I got the point.

  Ron nodded. “Uma’s grandfather was a shaman. She learned from him.”

  “Are you also a shaman?” Cam leaned towards Lenora. “Can you do something for the Lenape man?”

  Lenora shook her head. “I’m a…how do you say?” She looked at Ron quizzically.

  “A midwife.”

  “Yeah, I’m a midwife. I learned enough from Grandfather about the herbs and spirits to do this for my people.”

  “Okay, back to the spirits.” I put my hands on my bloated stomach and forced myself to concentrate. The food coma was starting to shut me down. “What would a Lenape spirit need to find rest?”

  “Maybe he’s not buried right and that’s what makes him walk.” Lenora shrugged. “You seen him? What’s he look like?”

  “He’s wearing buckskin and a breech-cloth.”

  “Was it worn or patched?”

  “No, nothing repaired on his clothes, no stains.” I shook my head and then motioned with my hands. “The sides and front of his head are bald, but he has this clump of black hair at the crown with two feathers.”

  “Was it shiny with grease or normal looking?”

  I thought for a moment. “Normal hair, no grease. And his face is all red.”

  Lenora shook her head. “No, that ain’t it then.”

  “Based on what, exactly? How do you know if he was buried properly? Why ain’t that it?” Cam threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

  Lenora returned his exasperation and looked at Cam as if he were an idiot. “Because, Kemosabe, he’s dressed in new clothes.”