I slipped the coin from my pocket and placed it in the palm of Raymond’s hand.
“Mr. Whitaker, I need you to focus on that day. That first day that you and Abigail met. When you have that vision firmly in your mind, I need you to turn the coin over.”
“That’s it? No dangling pocket watch to follow with my eyes?” Raymond asked.
I chuckled. “No, not quite. This coin is . . . somewhat different than the traditional hypnosis techniques,” I said, hoping that my words were believable.
Raymond closed his eyes tightly as he brought forth the memory. He held his hand close to his chest, squeezing the coin as he did so. A moment later, he turned the coin over.
Chapter 9.5
Raymond’s final class of the morning came to an end when the bell rang. Lunch hour was up next, and the activity in the hallways would be frantic, with everyone wanting to drop their books off at their lockers before heading to the cafeteria. That wasn’t on Raymond’s agenda, however. He was halfway through his third week of classes at the new school, and he’d only made a friend or two. Acquaintances, really, and both of them had basketball practice over their lunch hour. Raymond, however, had an irrational, potentially life-changing destination in mind.
Raymond heedlessly strolled through the cavernous hallways, waiting for the bustling crowds to funnel into the cafeteria.
As Raymond turned the corner that led to the school exit, he practically ran headfirst into another straggling student. A girl.
“I, uh . . . s-s-s-s-sorry,” Raymond said as he tried to step around her.
Raymond wasn’t surprised that the other students stayed away from him like they did. He knew it was because of his stuttering. Raymond had experienced random moments of stuttering all through school, but until just a month ago, the occurrences were few and far between. His parents attributed the reduction in his word stumbling to his comfort level with his peers. Now, with his dad taking a new job and moving the family across the river and into New Jersey, the stuttering had returned in full force.
“That’s quite all right, Raymond, is it?” the girl said.
“Y-y-yes, that’s right. My n-n-name is Raymond Whitaker,” he said, blushing at the chance meeting with arguably the prettiest girl that he had ever seen.
“You’re new here, right?” she asked, discreetly blocking Raymond’s path.
As butterflies and nerves battled it out in his gut, Raymond nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Well, on behalf of everyone here at Madison High, I officially welcome you to the home of the Bobcats,” she said, thrusting her hand toward him. “Hi, I’m Abigail. Abigail Caldwell, but all my friends call me Abby.”
“I . . . I, uh, kn-know who y-you are,” Raymond said. “We’ve had a f-few classes together.”
“Oh, right. You have Mr. Daniels for biology?”
“Y-yes, and we have history together t-t-too,” Raymond said, speaking as slowly as possible to minimize his stuttering.
“Oh, please. Don’t remind me. I detest history. I completely forgot to do my homework last night, and—”
“I can h-help you out, if you’d like,” Raymond eagerly offered, changing his plans on the fly.
“Sincerely? You would do that? That would be so cool. Are you heading to lunch now?” Abigail asked.
“Y-yes, I, um, just after I . . . I drop my books off at my locker.”
“Great, how about we sit together and go over the history lesson?”
Raymond’s tongue felt as thick as a slug and twice as sticky. Did the most popular girl in school just agree to have lunch with him?
“That would be n-n-nice, but won’t your friends be expecting you at their lunch t-table?”
“Yeah, sure, but they’ll understand. Besides, it’s not every day that you make a new friend,” Abigail said. She slipped her arm through Raymond’s as she steered him to his locker.
As Raymond opened his locker, Abigail leaned against the wall next to him and waited patiently. After Raymond stuffed every one of his schoolbooks back inside, he slipped out his history textbook and the associated notes before closing the door.
“Wow, do you always carry all your books around with you?” Abigail asked. “Or are you trying to get a workout while in the school hallways?”
“I, uh, was um . . .” Raymond began, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t let on to his plans for self-destruction.
Abigail giggled. “It’s okay, Raymond, really. I’m just teasing. Ready?”
“Sure,” Raymond said before turning and heading toward the cafeteria.
“So, what was your previous school like? Did you have a lot of friends?” Abigail asked.
Raymond focused on each word before speaking, hoping that he could speak clearly. “It was . . . v-very similar to Madison. The school was in upstate New York, and folks were p-pretty friendly there, too. As for friends, I had a few. Most of them I’d gone to school with since the f-first grade.”
“Oh, how unfortunate. I would be a complete mess if I had to start over in a new school with no friends. Why did your family move here to New Jersey?”
“It was because of my dad. H-h-he got a new job at RCA, and they’re based here, so they transferred the whole f-family.”
“But couldn’t you and your mother have stayed in New York and just have your dad travel for work?”
Raymond shrugged. “You would think, but he insisted the whole f-f-family come. It’s all right though. I got a b-bigger bedroom with the move.”
“See? That’s the spirit. I like people that look at the brighter side of things.”
Raymond could have sworn that he felt his heart increase in size at the kindness that Abigail was showing him. It was the first time since being in the new town that his confidence began to return. With his newfound internal strength, he decided to throw caution to the wind.
“Abigail?”
“Please, Raymond. You can call me Abby.”
“I’d like that, Abby. Are you planning on going to the dance this Friday?”
“You sly,” Abby said, tugging on Raymond’s arm gently. “Why yes, Raymond. I was planning to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. How about you?”
“I . . . I haven’t decided yet,” Raymond said.
“Well, I think you should. Maybe we’ll see each other there,” Abby said as they turned the corner into the cafeteria.
Raymond smiled all the way through the lunch line and until they sat at a table, history books scattered in front of them.
Chapter 10
Raymond let the coin slip from his hand and drop to the floor, pulling us back to Abigail’s bedside. We couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but it seemed to me that Raymond had aged several years in that amount of time. His eyes had sunk in slightly, his flesh had faded to grey, and his posture drooped considerably. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was already deteriorating, even though he hadn’t passed on yet.
“Thank you, Raymond, for sharing that wonderful moment with me,” I said.
“It’s hard to imagine how one day can truly define a person,” Raymond said. “That was my one day. Abby saved my life with her pure kindness,” Raymond said.
“How so?” I asked.
“What you didn’t see in that memory was the depth of my despair. At that point of the day, I had decided that I had had enough of my youthful obscurity. I was sixteen, and the world didn’t even know I existed. My father was a workaholic, my mother an alcoholic. My sister . . . well, she just existed in her own little world, and to hell with everyone else. Having transferred midway through my junior year of high school left me friendless and completely isolated. Depression wasn’t really a thing back then, and there were very few people that knew how to deal with it. So that afternoon, I was going to take matters into my own hands.”
“Oh no, Raymond. Please tell me you weren’t going to—”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done, but I did
know that I was going to go home for lunch that d-day and, and n-never come back. I w-was going t-to run away or . . . who knows, I may have ended up killing myself too. God knows the thought crossed my mind so many times.”
The room fell silent. Several moments passed as I tried to find the right words to say, but I couldn’t piece together anything worth a shit. Was this fate’s way of throwing life in my face? Was this God’s plan to show me that if I hadn’t taken those pills, Cyndi may have been my very own form of Abigail? Assuming we could have made it past her infidelity.
“I . . . I’m not sure what to say, Raymond. I think you’re right, Abigail may very well have been your guardian angel.”
“That’s exactly what she was. After that day, Abby became my best friend. I did go to that dance that Friday night, and we danced all night long. Much to the chagrin of all the other boys in my class. Several months later, Abby became more than just my friend. I was convinced that she was my soulmate. Abigail Caldwell was my first and only true love,” Raymond said as he slumped sideways in his wheelchair.
Raymond’s strength was clearly draining rapidly. I knew his death was imminent, and I wondered if I should tell him anything about who I really was.
Before I could make a decision, Raymond leaned forward and tried to pull himself upright. His first attempt was a failure, his frail body falling back into his wheelchair. On his second attempt, he was able to use the guardrail on the side of the bed to assist him in standing. Once up, he shuffled his feet closer to Abigail’s bedside before he stopped. I knew what he was going to do, and there was nothing I could do to help. It was like a train wreck about to happen, and all I could do was watch.
He took several deep breaths before he lifted his leg up, sliding it on the edge of the bed. With his right hand, he reached across Abigail’s body and gripped the far handrail. In his awkward three-point stance, Raymond pushed off the ground with his left foot, while pulling himself up with his right hand.
Once fully on the bed, Raymond adjusted his position around his dead wife, their two bodies unified. He began to weep.
“Oh, Abby. Why have you left me? I’m not strong enough to live this life without you.” Raymond said ignoring the tears streaking down his cheek. “God, why couldn’t you have taken me and let my wife live? She had the kindest soul. You could’ve taken me and spared her life. She could have continued on to spread so much joy—the joy that she has given me for so many years. Why her?”
As I witnessed Raymond declaring his love for his wife and pleading to his God, I knew the moment was imminent. I slipped my hand into my pocket and gripped the wooden box in preparation.
“Raymond, there is—” I said, beginning to tell him why I was really there, when I was interrupted by the sound of a man clearing his throat.
I turned toward the sound and saw Hauser standing at the foot of the bed. He was dressed like a doctor, complete with a stethoscope slung around his neck. As he and I looked at each other, his eyes piercing, he shook his head discreetly. Understanding, I nodded and released my grip on the wooden box. I looked back at Raymond as he laid his head on his wife’s shoulder and began to shudder from his uncontrollable sobs.
Until that moment, I don’t think that I had ever witnessed true love so completely. Selfishly, I envied his love for Abigail. I only wished that the love Cyndi and I had had was just as true, before . . .
As I contemplated my horrific life choices, Raymond’s shuddering began to subside and his breathing began to slow. His eyes closed, and for a moment he looked like he was in total peace.
I glanced back at Hauser, who motioned for me to open the box. I quickly retrieved the box from my pocket and opened it, placing it on the edge of the bed. A few moments later, Raymond’s lips parted and his soul shot from his open mouth directly into the box, nearly tumbling it off the bed.
Chapter 11
The sudden burst of Raymond’s soul made me jump. Startled, I stared across the bed at the box sitting on the edge. From behind me, I heard a faint chuckle. Turning, I saw Hauser quickly cover his mouth, silencing his outburst.
“You insensitive prick,” I said without thinking. “How can you think this tender, touching moment is funny?”
“Relax, Jack. I wasn’t laughing at the couple. I was laughing at you. You jumped nearly a foot in the air,” he said, laughing even louder.
“Oh, shut up,” I said, fighting back my own internal laughter.
“I have to say, Jack, your training will certainly go down in infamy. First you have to collect your own wife’s soul, and then this—such a beautiful display of love and dedication.”
“Don’t forget to mention that crazy gang fight that you dragged me to. That was pretty epic, you have to admit.”
“You know it, kid. It’s all going in my report for sure.”
“So I’m being graded on this?” I asked.
“Well, sort of. The Sentinel”—Hauser’s voice lowered—“they like to keep tabs on pretty much everything.”
I began to wonder if there was something more to our employers that Hauser wasn’t telling me. I made a mental note to bring it up later.
“I have to ask. When did you know that I would be collecting both of their souls? You did know, right?”
“Yeah, I kind of knew. The moment we walked back in and saw the husband sitting next to the bed, I could see a . . . faint aura around him. It’s nothing scientific by any means, but it’s just something that I’ve learned to sense through the years. I’m sure, with enough experience of your own, you’ll be able to pick up on certain things along the way as well.”
“So, including Wilson, I’ve now bagged seven souls. How am I doing?” I asked. “How am I really doing?”
“All in all, Jack, I think you’re right on par with the majority of my training candidates. There’s a few things that you could work on, but I think you have what it takes.”
“Wow, you make it sound like I’m auditioning for a job. Am I?”
“I’m not gonna lie to you, buddy. It’s true. Not everybody is cut out for this job. You are ahead of the curve, but don’t get cocky.”
I smiled before looking at Raymond and Abigail one last time. Satisfied that this was a job well done, I began to move toward the door.
“Um, aren’t we forgetting something?” Hauser asked.
I stopped and turned back toward the hospital bed where Raymond’s soul box was sitting.
“Oh, shit,” I exclaimed. I first grabbed the coin from the floor and slipped it into my pocket. Then I went for the box. Picking it up, I placed my lips around the extrication portal and inhaled deeply. The taste of Raymond’s soul reminded me of clover honey, with a hint of cinnamon. Once the flavor was gone, the box disappeared and was again replaced with a new one. Turning it over, I looked for the name of my next assignment but was slightly confused when there was none carved on the lid.
“Huh. It looks like I got a dud. There’s nothing on the box,” I said as I turned it toward Hauser.
Hauser leaned closely, scrutinizing every detail of the ornate wooden box. “Well, that’s not good.”
“So, you’ve seen a blank box before?”
Hauser whistled softly. “I have to say, Jack. I’m at a bit of a loss for words right now.”
“You? At a loss?” I chuckled and turned the box around in my hand to get a better look myself. As I did so, I began to see the faint outline of a name form right in front of me. “Wait a minute. I think there might be something here.”
Hauser stepped close and we both watched intently as a name etched into the box lid. As the moments passed, the name engraved deeper into the wood and started to became legible.
“Noah Clayton,” I read aloud.
As the name left my mouth, Hauser yanked the pocket watch from his trousers so quickly I expected the chain to snap.
“So? What does your watch say about Noah, here?” I asked, assuming his watch with no numbers was closely related to the soul collecting business.
Frown lines formed at the edges of Hauser’s eyes as he intently studied the images on his watch. “I . . . have to go,” Hauser said as he snapped his watch shut.
“But what about my training?”
“Uh, you’re doing fine, sport. This Noah Clayton seems like an ordinary mark. I’m going to let you take the lead on this one for a while. Can you handle that?”
“Well, sure. I can’t imagine it could be any worse than what I’ve already had to deal with. Is there something the matter?” I asked, concerned with Hauser’s sudden behavior change.
“Oh, it’s probably nothing. It’s . . .” Hauser paused and took one last glance at the box in my hand. “I have to go. Promise me, Jack, that you stay on task with this one. No more returning to your old apartment?”
“Yeah, sure. You have my word. These last few days have really opened my eyes about what we do. Although I have deep regrets, I understand now that my past is unchangeable.”
Hauser patted me firmly on the back. “That’s really great to hear, Jack. I was hoping that at the end of the day you would have in fact learned something.”
“That I have,” I said, feeling a tug on my emotions, knowing the thoughts of Cyndi would continue to drift further from my own reality.
“Well then, what say you and I get out of here. You’ve got a soul to collect and I have . . . somewhere to be.”
Hauser smiled at me, then vanished. I looked once more at Raymond and Abigail, their bodies woven together in an eternal stillness, before I vanished myself.
Chapter 1
The giant metropolis growled faintly as I stalked my prey. In a city occupied by millions of people, only one person mattered—the one that was about to die. Noah Clayton’s fate was sealed the moment I received his wooden box, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. I’d been following my mark around for weeks, and I somehow felt the moment of my reward was nearly upon me.
The Borrowed Souls: A Novel Page 12
