Soulshine

by J W Rocque

  Michelle could not talk to the police. She could not even utter a word. She just kept babbling incoherently as she could not shake the image of Evan"s ashes from her mind. The only explanation was that her father"s bullet had created the wound that finally completed the decomposition of Evan"s ancient body. Nurses came over to attempt to calm her down. No one else had a clue as to what had just transpired. The attendants stared at the pile of ashes on the gurney and no one made a move to remove the gurney from the ambulance.

  “Let me go,” protested John. “I didn"t kill anybody. Look… there"s nobody on that gurney.”

  “You"re coming with us,” said one of the officers. “It would be best if you come peacefully.”

  “You"re arresting me? On what charge?”

  “Attempted murder and illegal possession of a firearm in a public place. Now get in the car.”

  “Attempted murder? Of whom? A pile of ashes? Surely you don"t think one shot reduced a human being to ashes!”

  “We have no idea why there wasn"t a patient on the gurney, but you may have been trying to kill the driver or the paramedic. You fired a gun in a public place in the vicinity of people. That sounds like attempted murder to us. Now… get in the car!”

  “Wait… wait! Can I just talk to my daughter? I… haven"t seen her in years. I… was only trying to protect her.”

  “From the pile of ashes? You said yourself that there is nobody there.”

  John bowed his head. “My daughter was kidnapped years ago by Evan Troy. He brainwashed her. He forced her to stay with him. For God"s sake… he drugged her and kept her from getting older. Look at her. She looks like she"s thirteen… but she"s twenty-nine… soon to be thirty!”

  “So now you"re trying to plead insanity, are you? All right… I"m really five years old and my partner"s six years old, but we"re still going to haul your ass tojail. Now… for the last time… get your ass in the squad car!”

  “Go ahead… have a good laugh. This Evan Troy scumbag has been ravaging this earth as a predator for over two thousand years, okay?”

  As the police pushed John into the squad car, Michelle finally got her articulation back for a moment and approached the car. “Honey,” said John. “Go home. Go to your mother. Or wait for meand I"ll drive you home. There"s no way these cops are going to keep me. I didn"t kill anybody.”

  “Dad… even if you didget out of jail, there is no way I"d go home to you. And I can"t go back to Mom now because you may end up going back home, and I don"t ever want to see you again. I… don"t even know if I want to live anymore. You took everything away from me.”

  John was speechless as the officer closed the squad car door. A moment later, he was being escorted to prison. Michelle went back into the ambulatory entrance of Fletcher University Hospital to calm down. The nurses were especially kind to her in her moment of hysteria, and though they all believed that the ambulatory service had to have been transferring the patient as planned, nobody had a grasp as to what really had happened.

  June, 1962 It was getting late in the afternoon. Evan thoroughly enjoyed observing the people at the amusement park, especially the children. He envied the family unit and appreciated how it evolved from the ancient world. Children were becoming more and more treated as integral parts of the family unit with each passing century and each new culture, although they were given fewer and fewer responsibilities. He felt as though he would like to live in a part of America such as Riverside.

  As he walked down the road, the carousel music faded away but could still be faintly heard. Evan found it to be an anthem of joy. He came upon a sundry shop situated on the corner of two main roads, built to serve those fortunate enough to be part of this charming neighborhood. There was a young man standing out front wearing a smock. Behind him, taped to the storefront window, was a sign that read:„Help Wanted". “Hello,” said Evan to the boy.

  “Hey, there.”

  “Do you work in this store?”

  “Yup. Can I help you?”

  “I was just noticing the sign behind you. I"m kind of new

  in the neighborhood and could use a job. Do you know if your boss hires people… er… under the table?” The boy laughed. “Mr. Cacharelli hires everybody under the table. That"s the way he likes it. He usually knows our parents first… so that way he hires kids he can trust. You"re a bit older though.”

  “I"m… seventeen.” That fabrication was close to his physiological age, given that he estimated himself as around nineteen at the time he helped Gerasimos with his experiments. Evan also wanted to be able to begin his new life in Riverside with the flexibility to add more believable years to his age during the time he hoped to be spending there.

  “I"m fifteen… still in school,” the boy replied. I"m the old guy here right now. Generally, once the kids who work here graduate, they"re off to college.”

  “Well… I don"t think I"ll be going away to college. Is Mr. Cacharelli here?”

  “Yeah… he"s inside… at the counter.”

  “Thanks.” Evan walked into the sundry shop, introduced

  himself to Mr. Cacharelli, and inquired about the job. Mr. Cacharelli was leery because he figured that Evan would be looking for benefits, and the store was in no position to pay benefits to workers despite the desperate need for help.

  “Well… I"m not sure if you"d be interested. We… don"t pay very well. In fact, that"s why we only hire the kids.” Mr. Cacharelli could tell that Evan most likely was not a policeman or a government worker. “I could only pay you a dollar an hour. But that would be under the table, so that"s like getting a buck thirty or so since Iwon"t be taking out money for taxes. Minimum wage is a buck fifteen so you"ll be making out better than minimum wage.”

  “That sounds just fine, Mr. Cacharelli.” “I don"t recall seeing you around here before. Do I know your parents?”

  “Uh… probably not. They… passed away when I was very young.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

  “Yes… that is… I have been staying with my grandfather.”

  “Your grandfather? Do I know him by any chance?”

  Evan needed to weave his tangled web before he got caught. “Amos Troy? You might. He seems to know you. Of course… he doesn"t get out much anymore. He"s never really feeling well.”

  “Amos Troy…” said Mr. Cacharelli as he tried his best to recollect. “You know… so many people come in and out of here… I know almost all the names that go with the faces, but there are always a couple of names I either don"t know or don"t remember. You say he knows me?”

  Evan looked at the shelves directly behind the counter where Mr. Cacharelli was standing. “He used to come in here to buy his pipe tobacco. Captain Black. Too bad his biggest reason for shopping here may very well be the biggest factor to his ill health. Emphysema, you know.”

  “That"s a shame. I certainly hope it wasn"t the Captain Black. Come to think of it… there was an old guy who used to always come in for Captain Black every week. So his name is Amos Troy, eh? And your namewould be…?”

  “Evan, sir. Evan Troy.”

  “Well, Evan. I do need someone to wait on customers and also workthe ice cream fountain. Can you do it?”

  Evan was delighted that Mr. Cacharelli seemed to have an obligation to poor old Amos. “I can do almost anything you need.”

  ”Well then… when would you like to start?”

  “I can start any time you like.”

  “How about tomorrow morning… eight o"clock sharp?”

  “I will see you then, Mr. Cacharelli.”

  “You can call me Mr. C.”

  “You got it, Mr. C., and thanks. Oh… there is one more thing.”

  “What"s that, Evan?”

  “My grandfather… he"ll be going into a home for the aged so he can be better taken care of. Would you know of a place I can stay? I only need a couple of rooms. I… just can"t afford the pl
ace my grandfather is renting now… and he won"t be going back there.” Evan hated lying, but he knew no other recourse. He knew that despite his wish to be himself without facades, he would always need to make up stories about his origin. He was getting very good at manufacturing his facts during conversation.

  “I converted the apartments over the store into a bunch of one-room bachelor pads. I always have something available. I can give you a special rateon one and take it out of your pay if you"d like. It will be much less than renting a couple of rooms.”

  “Sounds great, Mr. C. I"ll take it.” Evan was especially pleased that he would become part of the community. He envisioned going to the park and meeting people frequently, as well as sitting by the shores of the bay when he needed some quiet time. It was perfect… and he was in no hurry to meet any special someone. He wanted to just enjoy his new life and be a friend to everyone he met. In other words, he wanted to be himself.

  December 15, 1983 The staff working at Fletcher University Hospital urged Michelle to rest in one of the partitioned areas in the trauma unit. One of the nurses who witnessed the scene earlier in the morning looked in on her after she finally managed to fall asleep.

  “Hi, Mabel. How"s she doing?” asked a colleague. “She"s finally getting some much needed rest. Poor thing.” “Exactly what happened?”

  “Well, Connie… she just went hysterical after a man fired a

  bullet into an empty ambulance this morning.”

  “An empty ambulance?”

  “Yes… well, there was a gurney covered with dust or

  ashes, but she insisted that her husband was murdered by the man… and I think I heard her refer to the shooter as „Dad".” “So he really did fire the gun, but there was no one in the ambulance? Was anyone hurt?”

  “Apparently not. The man took dead aim at the gurney. What"s puzzling is that this girl was a passenger in the ambulance that was supposedly carrying her husband.”

  “So where"s the husband then?”

  “This girl seems to think that the ashes are his remains. Now I would think that she"s crazy, but why would an ambulatory service have her riding in the ambulance if they weren"t carrying her husband? Besides, why would the ambulatory service deliver a pile of ashes to the hospital?”

  “Mabel, I saw that girl afterwards when she came inside. She was definitely hysterical. Something is going on. Has anyone tried to contact this husband?”

  “Oh Connie, look at her. She can"t be any older than an early teenager. Do you really think she has a husband? She"s not from around here. She"s American.”

  “So do you think she"s delusional?”

  “We"re going to have one of the psychologists talk to her after she gets her rest. If she is delusional, then she somehow found an ambulatory service to help play out her delusions.”

  “Did anyone talk to the driver and paramedic?”

  “Get this, Connie. While we were busy trying to calm the girl down and the man was being taken into custody, they drove off. None of the ambulatory companies we use have any record of a delivery to our hospital today. So the driver and paramedic are nowhere to be questioned.”

  Stuart Williams stopped by where Mabel and Connie were talking. “Mr. Williams,” said Mabel, “were you able to find out anything about the ashes and the ambulance personnel?”

  “I spoke with the administrator and the doctors of the hospital the ambulance came from.” Stuart paused. “As far as the ashes are concerned… believe it or not… it"s entirely possible that the man being transported may have been shot and subsequently turned to ashes.”

  “Oh, Mr. Williams. That"s… impossible.”

  “Ladies… the reason the patient was being transferred here was because his case stumped the doctors at Ottawa General. He was in a car accident, damaged his leg… and the dead tissue quickly started disintegrating… decomposing. So… given that strange circumstance, I can imagine a bullet wound possibly causing the same effect on his whole body if it killed him. This was a strange medical case.”

  Connie and Mabel stared at each other in disbelief and then stared at Stuart. “So, are you saying that the girl"s story is possibly true?” asked Connie.

  “I"m saying that this particular patient is a unique enough case where I can believe in the possibility of what she said being true. It"s a pity. We had some hope of helping the young man. Anyway… I"d like to get forensics to examine the ashes. If they can determine that it"s human… then we can maybe say for certain that…”

  “I"m afraid that won"t be possible,” interrupted Mabel. “The ambulance took off with the ashes.”

  “They took off? How could they…” Stuart was apoplectic. “Get them back here. What company transported the patient?”

  “Nobody knows, sir. The vehicle had only generic markings on it… no company name. The supervisor on duty contacted all the ambulatory companies we deal with, and none of themhave any record of this particular delivery.”

  “I"ll make some calls myself. You two just keep an eye on the girl, will you? Give her anything she needs.”

  “We"ll do that, Mr. Williams. She"s getting the most important thing right now… rest.”

  Mabel and Connie checked in on Michelle. “She"s still very warm. I"ll put a cool cloth on her head,” said Mabel.

  “My, she is ayoung one,” said Connie. “A young bride of a disintegrated man. It has all the makings of a horror story.”

  “Except that her trauma is real… very real, Connie. I"m glad that she"s able to sleep now. Her breathing is getting back to normal, but a little unsteady. I think she"s dreaming. I hope it"s a good dream.”

  April, 1983 Michelle was seated with Evan at a posh Chicago restaurant overlooking Lake Michigan. While waiting for their meals, they gazed in each other"s eyes while gently holding hands. After years of traveling and living in various places together, Michelle never stopped feeling that she was living a dream. Evan was too good to be true. He always treated her wonderfully. She had known him for seventeen years now and thought it awesome still to be looking at the same smiling face with its gentle features. She tended to forget his timelessness, instead usually thinking of him as her nineteen-year-old crush that was meant to last forever. Sometimes she even thought of herself as the thirteen-year-old that he fell in love with, despite the maturity of her mind and soul. That came from constantly seeing her reflection in the mirror, but also from the way their relationship had never gotten old and tired… for they were truly in love.

  Michelle believed that she would have always felt like a young girl in Evan"s presence, and he would readily admit that she would have always made him feel like a dashing young suitor, not because he thought of himself as such, but because of their mutual admiration.

  “Would you still love me if I looked my age?” The question posed to him by Michelle took Evan by surprise. “Yes. If I had been born six years prior to you, I still would have gladly taken you by my side and grown old together with you… loving you every step of the way. Now how about you? Would you still love me if I looked myage?”

  Michelle tried to grasp the true implication of the question. “I think you"d look way too old for me.”

  “That"s an honest answer. But we are proof that chronological age doesn"t matter, aren"t we? People look at us and think we shouldn"t be together simply because they think our ages differ by six or seven years. But if I was forty and you were thirtythree, they wouldn"t give it a second thought, would they?”

  Michelle nodded. “That"s because they don"t understand soulshine.”

  Evan smiled. “Yes, that"s true. They even conjure up laws to suppress the acknowledgment of it. In the culture I originally came from, girls of thirteen were not only considered ready to be betrothed, but they were also given great responsibility before marriage, like taking care of their elderly parents, preparing meals, doing chores… they weren"t treated like little children.”

  “I think that was what attracted me to you. You talked to me on an inte
llectual level equal to your own.”

  “Why not? Aside from life experience, I had no intellectual advantage over you. The soul makes up our mind and emotions. Souls are infinite. The soul in you is just as old as the soul in me. It had no beginning and will have no end. Our souls, like those of any other couple, will always be the same age.”

  “That"s a beautiful thought.”

  “So… you did it! You drove the entire length of the most storied road in America… Route 66.”

  “Yes, I did! It only took us ten years.”

  “That"s because we took our time and settled down in different spots along the way. I"d say it has been an enjoyable run, wouldn"t you?”

  “Yeah. I kind of liked the idea about going to Hawaii every winter, but… I enjoyed the traveling.”

  “Hawaii would have gotten stale had we gone there year after year. We"ll return there… after we see the rest of the world together.”

  “So what"s next now that we reached the end of Route 66?”

  “I really need to look into getting a passport that can pass for the real thing. As I"ve said before… when I traveled alone, I would stowaway in the most uncomfortable places. You would not like it… nor do I want to put you through experiences like that. You deserve first class accommodations, especially after putting up with me and my machinations for keeping us together forever.”

  “Well… while you are trying to figure out how to travel the world without getting arrested, can I suggest something that I always wanted to do?”

  “Sure… please do.”

  “My family"s ancestors came from Quebec City and I always heard stories about how nice the winter carnival is up there. I think it takes place in February.”