Soul Selecta

by Gill McKnight

“So, how did I break my eternal pathway?” she said. “Is that why I’m here? And where exactly is here?”

  “You are in the Elysian Fields on a sort of stopover,” Soul Selector said. Her displeasure shone through. “It seems you’ve managed to jump the gun, fore sold on your allotted time, beat the clock, nipped out for an early lunch…you get the idea. And therefore, there is, as yet, no set place for you in Infinity. You’ll just have to hang around here until the paperwork catches up with you.” She sounded particularly peeved about the paperwork, which Jesse found a little unfair considering she’d just been told she was prematurely dead.

  “I never expected the afterlife to be so bureaucratic.”

  “Oh, it is.” Soul Selector snorted derisively. “I have just spent the last four years filling out your appeal form.”

  “Four years? But I’ve only just got here!”

  “I’m afraid not. It doesn’t work that way. Time is softer here.”

  “Softer?”

  “Yes, like…like water pH types. They range between hard and soft. It’s the same with time. It’s softer here so it’s much more fluid. It can flow unrestricted. In your…past reality…you had hard time. It’s very viscous, full of toxins, and not very nice to live in. Does bad things to the body.” She shrugged as if it should all be obvious.

  “So I’m really dead?” Jesse still needed clarification.

  “Yes, indeed you are. You made damn sure of that.”

  “And four years have passed since I died?”

  “Four years of paperwork.”

  “Well, fuck that. Especially since I’m not supposed to be dead at all.”

  “Look, I tried to reverse it, but the paperwork…” Soul Selector shifted uncomfortably. “Trust me,” she began again. “It’s better this way. Look on the bright side. You’re already buried.” Her face took on a sort of cramped look that Jesse interpreted as a smile. Jesse did not smile back. Soul Selector shifted again.

  “It’s not that bad,” she said. “Now you don’t have to hang around at your funeral feeling guilty for all the upset you’ve caused your nearest and dearest. Most corpses hate that part. You’d be surprised how many of the dearly departed choose to do that and feel awful afterward.” This was met by silence, so she unwisely continued, “I mean, it’s been four years and everyone’s got over it by now and moved on. You’re practically forgotten.” The cramp tightened across Soul Selector’s face, and Jesse interpreted this as the smile brightening. “So, as a dead person, you need to move on, too. At least you will if I can find somewhere to stick you.” This last part was a mutter. Her face lost its rictus and returned to its usual woebegone, somber state.

  “Oh.” Jesse was swamped with a deep, aching sadness. She felt emptied out. She was dead. Life was over. Her eyes welled up and she concentrated hard on the grass stem clutched between her fingers.

  Soul Selector looked down at the young woman, no more than a girl really, and sighed. She flopped down on the embankment beside her. She wasn’t very good at the touchy-feely stuff. There were trained meeters and greeters for the recently deceased. It was their job to soothe away the fears and regrets, not hers. As the Soul Selector, she had another skill set entirely. She glanced sideways at Jesse; the kid was in a bit of a state. She hoped there’d be no hugging.

  “Well, can I at least see Mom and Dad? After all, it’s been four years since…since the funeral.” Jesse rubbed her eyes on her sleeve.

  “No. You can’t see anyone you used to know. It’s the rules. It will only hold you back from moving on with your…new life…” Soul Selector tailed off awkwardly. Actually, she was unsure of the rules for this situation but had an idea that everything Jesse asked for should generally be denied.

  “Oh.” Jesse digested this. “I suppose it makes sense, but I really, really need to go back.” There was passion in her voice, a strength of conviction that made Soul Selector shift in her shoes. “It’s a sort of compulsion,” Jesse continued. “I just know I have to go back. It’s weird, but I feel like I’m not done, like I’m only part-baked, or something?”

  Soul Selector started plucking at the grass as well. The kid was right; she was only part-lived. There’d been another destiny for her entirely, and now that was broken and Soul Selector didn’t know what to do about it, apart from fill in complaint forms. Death should sort this mess out. It was not her job.

  “Hey, maybe I could be a ghost?” Jesse asked.

  “No.” Soul Selector damped down that idea at once. “Ghosts are vengeful spirits with earthly agendas. They like lingering and are always griping on about being murdered.” Soul Selector began to chew on her stalk of grass. “You’re never going to be a ghost. What you did was just plain stupid. We might have caught a break if you’d been murdered.”

  “All I did was rescue a dog. It was the right thing to do.”

  “Not if you ended up here, it wasn’t. We have a special room for hero types, and you’re not in it.”

  “Is that why I’m here? I’m a failed hero. Is this a sort of purgatory for losers?”

  “No, it is not. This is the Elysian Fields, and you are here because…” Soul Selector ran out of words. Because you shouldn’t be dead, you should be down on earth with the love of your life pumping good energy out into the universe. Gods feed on good energy; you don’t want to be around them when it starts to run out. But I’m not allowed to tell you that. “Because there’s rules and you broke them.”

  “Look,” Jesse said. “I need to know what’s going on back home. Please?”

  “The need will pass. You’re in a period of adjustment, that’s all. I bet if I come by here in another fifteen years you’ll be a lot more relaxed.”

  “Fifteen years!”

  “I told you before, this is soft time. Fifteen years is a doddle.”

  “What am I going do here for fifteen years?”

  Soul Selector shrugged and looked around the vast, verdant expanse. “Frisbee?”

  “By myself?”

  “Maybe we can find that dog you failed to save.” Her tone hardened.

  “Fuck you.” Jesse stormed to her feet and marched off.

  “Brilliant. A brat,” Soul Selector muttered. “What am I supposed to do with a brat? I’m not a meet-n-greeter. It’s not my job to babysit the overly sensitive deceased.” She flung down her grass stalk and stomped off after her charge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After a few minutes of full, head down charging, Jesse stopped and looked around. She must be at least two miles away from the slope she’d sat on only moments ago.

  “What’s with this fucked up place?” she shouted at the far horizons.

  “This fucked up place is a department of the afterlife. The Elysian Fields to be exact.” The response came from directly beside her. The Soul Selector stood by her shoulder.

  “How did I get here?”

  “You died without permission. Went AWOL on life, gave up the ghost, went knocking on heaven’s door—”

  “Not here. Here?” Jesse pointed to the ground under her feet. “A moment ago, I was over there.” She pointed toward the embankment. “It’s miles away.”

  “Oh, it’s another space-time thingy. We got it all going on up here. Soft time, hard time, squishy dimensions. Jesse, step away from the pool!” Soul Selector’s eyes widened with anxiety. Her gaze was fixed on the spot where Jesse stood.

  Jesse took a nervous half step backward and found herself wobbling on the edge of a small muddy pool. She regained her balance and peered at the reed-rimmed waterhole. It didn’t look that dangerous.

  “Is this where the animals come to drink?” She gestured at the brackish water. Maybe the animals were dangerous?

  “Animals?” Soul Selector looked horrified. “At my pool? I should think not.”

  Jesse frowned. The pool was weird. The water seemed to absorb light. Nothing was reflected back, not even the bright, cloudless sky.

  “Come away,” Soul Selector said. The slight plea
in her voice made Jesse hesitate. Something was going on here, something special. She could feel it. And the weird chick didn’t want her to know what it was. That made her stick her heels in even more.

  “How deep is it?” She toed at the water with her sneaker, and a myriad of startled ripples ran away from her. Out in the center, where it was deeper, the water rolled unhappily, as if it was alive and not happy that she’d kicked it. Jesse shivered. It was creepy. “Can you swim in it?” Not that she’d want to.

  Soul Selector actually spluttered. “Swim? You certainly cannot! This is a scrying pool. Stay out of it. And stop touching it.”

  “A what pool?” Jesse toed the water again, only gently. The pool shivered back at her. A thrill ran through her and the water rippled, mirroring her tremor.

  “A scrying pool. It’s for divining…well, sort of. Stop poking it. You’re waking it up.”

  “Divining? Like fortune telling?” Jesse was fascinated. Something sentient definitely lived in the water. She could feel it stir. “What do you mean I’m waking it up? It’s only water.” She wanted Soul Selector to confirm what she already guessed, that the pool was alive and watchful.

  “It’s more than water. It’s like a window. It lets me keep an eye on my charges. Or in this case, charge, singular.” Soul Selector’s initial fluster flipped over to bossiness. “Get away from it. It’s not for you.”

  “A window to another dimension? Cool. How does it work?” Jesse squinted into the depths. The water swirled then, somewhere beneath its surface, it parted like theater curtains revealing a stage set of a small cafe in New York. “Hey, look, I can see someone.”

  “What!”

  “A girl. I can see a girl with blond hair.”

  “No! No, no, no. You can’t.”

  “She’s very pretty.” Jesse was mesmerized by the opaque forms floating before her.

  “You can’t see her. It’s a trick of the light.”

  “Nope, no trick. There’s definitely a girl in there. Well, a young woman.” Jesse let her knees sink into the mud. Her gaze was locked on the ephemeral vision of the young woman. She was sipping chai tea and engrossed in a biography of Edith Piaf.

  “Wait a minute,” Soul Selector said. “You mean to tell me you can actually see something, someone…in there?” Please. Not this on top of everything else. This child is utterly impossible to work with.

  There was no way a simple soul like Jesse should be able to scry in her pool without at least a millennia of lessons. It had taken Soul Selector over three thousand years to get her diploma, and even now she was barely able to keep track of her charges. Hence the “Day of the Dog” incident. She had taken her eye off Jesse Colvin for one hard time minute, and look what happened. How often had she stared into this watery murk until her eyeballs cramped trying to make out if it were night or day?

  And now this little space-time orphan comes along, plops herself down, and can suddenly SEE things. No way. It has to be some sort of joke. Soul Selector surreptitiously looked around for Hermes. He fancied himself as a bit of a trickster when he was nothing but annoying. There was no one else at the pool, just herself and Jesse who was flat on her muddy belly watching the living reflection of her lost mate. Thank Zeus the girl had no idea who she was actually looking at.

  “I see a young woman. She’s blond and petite. And very lonely. She’s feeling lost.” Jesse pulled back in confusion, “I can see her. I mean really see her, like inside of her. What she’s feeling, what her thoughts are.” She looked over at Soul Selector for confirmation. “It’s as if I can touch her soul,” she said in wonder.

  Soul Selector groaned. It’s that damned vibe connection experiment. It’s got to be that. I need to bin it before it haunts me for all eternity.

  “She’s a beautiful person, inside and out. I can sense it. I can see her beauty through more than my eyes. It’s like my soul knows these things.” Jesse was awestruck. “Is this what the pool is for? Is that how you use it?”

  “Sort of. But you shouldn’t be looking! You need…um…security clearance. Yes. And you’ve not got any, so stop it.” She gestured with her thumb. “Come on, up and out of it. You’re not allowed and that’s final.” She made to grab Jesse’s arm and haul her up. Jesse hung on like a dead weight, refusing to move, unwilling to let go of her vision.

  “I’m doing no harm. I want to see what happens to her. It’s important. I know it is.” She sounded determined. “Who is she?”

  “Somebody. Nobody. Just a person I’m keeping an eye on. None of your concern.” Soul Selector managed to drag Jesse away. “Come on, you’re breaking the rules. Get up and let me show you around.”

  “Your rules suck.”

  “My rules are perfectly good for what they’re needed for. For instance keeping you away from my pool.” The last thing she needed was for these two souls to start all that bonding business again, especially with Jesse on a celestial plane. There was no way these two could get around the fact Jesse was deceased, so there was no point in letting Jesse know the woman she was ogling was her lost soul mate.

  Lost being the operative word. It was unfortunate, but Norrie Maguire was a doomed soul. The thread had been cut. She was now a destiny set adrift. A fate wasted.

  It would be cruel for Jesse to learn the truth. And it would lead to all sorts of complicated questions Soul Selector had no wish to deal with. Best to let the Celestial collective make up its mind and sort the whole sorry mess out.

  Soul Selector felt satisfied she was doing the best she could in the circumstances. She had acted with sensitivity toward her unwanted guest. She had welcomed her to her under-prepared afterlife. She had been kind and honorable. Her next step was to drug the girl.

  Let Jesse sleep away the next hundred thousand years or so, and maybe when she woke up she’d have forgotten the whole thing? Even better, maybe her little soul mate friend would have died and be due for reincarnation. With any luck, they would be in sync and all she would have to do is shove them both into the reincarnation queue before anyone noticed a big hunk of love energy was missing. The Gods loved their manna. One bite less and there would be all sorts of questions.

  Yes, drug Jesse, that was the thing to do. For the first time, Soul Selector allowed herself a shred of hope. Finally, she had a plan that might bring the whole sorry affair under her control.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “See those trees?” Soul Selector pointed to a blue haze about twenty miles or more to the east.

  Jesse squinted in the bright afternoon glare. “Yeah, I see them.”

  And then they were there standing in the dappled shade of a small copse surrounded by fruit trees of every variety.

  “Wow. Did we just teleport or something?”

  “It’s how we travel around here. Space is hard and soft, too.”

  “Can I do that?”

  “Maybe later.” Soul Selector was getting impatient. “Now, this is the Orchard of Obliv—Of…Obis.”

  “Obis? You were going to say oblivion, weren’t you?”

  “No, I wasn’t. This is the Orchard of Obis, and isn’t it lovely? It has some nice fruit. Very tasty. You really have to try some.”

  “What’s an obis?”

  “It’s a sash belt on a kimono.” Soul Selector’s left eye twitched several times in rapid succession. She was becoming irritated. Jesse was hard work. This was the first time she had come up close to a soul mate, and they were annoying little things.

  “What’s a kimono got to do with fruit?”

  Soul Selector ignored the question. “I want you to snack here as often as you feel like. Any time, night or day, feel free to help yourself from any tree.” She spread her hands indulgently. “Any of them.”

  “I don’t think I’ll get used to this way of travel,” Jesse murmured, rubbing her stomach. “It’s making me queasy. I don’t want to eat anything.” She looked around in interest.

  “You’ll get used to it. Anyway, you’ll not want to move far from th
e orchard. It’s nice here, very restful. Why not take a nap in the shade?”

  “I’m not sleepy. Can we go back to the pool?”

  Soul Selector’s left eye pulsed. “No,” she said. “Have an orange.” She reached out pale, bony fingers and plucked one from a tree. “It’s so juicy and sweet.” She threw it awkwardly toward Jesse who caught it deftly in one hand. “Go on, eat.” Soul Selector made little encouraging movements with her hands.

  “Orchard of Obis, eh?” Jesse tossed the orange casually from one hand to the other. Soul Selector watched it arc back and forth anxiously. “My mother told me about strangers and candy. And she never let up about spiked drinks.”

  “Huh?” Soul Selector was still focused on the orange.

  Jesse wasn’t stupid. She knew the fruit was drugged. This orchard was more like the copse of collapse. The poor bees were falling from the blossoms and crawling drunkenly across the ground. And Soulie here had the worst poker face imaginable. It was laughable how earnest she tried to look. The longer Jesse hung out with her, the less scary the neon-eyed chick became. In fact, the whole Grim Reaper ensemble looked stupid once she noticed the klutz inside it.

  “Catch.” She tossed the orange toward Soul Selector, pitching it perfectly, then spun on her heel and ran farther into the trees. “Back to me,” she shouted over her shoulder. “First to drop it eats it.”

  Soul Selector caught the orange by pure reflex. Reflexes she didn’t know she had. How odd. Nothing was as simple or straightforward as it used to be since Jesse arrived.

  Soul Selector hesitated, uncertain what to do. Jesse darted through the trees shouting for the orange to be thrown back.

  “Cheeky little so-and-so.” Soul Selector drew back her arm and, much to her delight, made a decent pitch back.

  It was easily dealt with by the younger woman, and before Soul Selector could blink, the orange came hurtling back at her with a spin on it that stung the palm of her hand.

  “Is that the best you can do?” Jesse taunted her, and ran for the edge of the orchard. Soul Selector followed. They burst out of the grove onto the open plain and continued to throw the orange back and forth to each other.