Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

I appeared in the hallway of my apartment building, but I was alone. This should be Cyndi’s personal reflection and not my own. As I stood there trying to figure out what I did differently, I saw a shadowy figure walk out of my apartment door directly toward me. As the shadowy figure got closer, I realized that it was me walking toward … me. I could not make out any discernible characteristics, but I knew it was me. It was as if a camera lens was unfocused on the man walking toward me.

I’d expected the apparition to walk around me, but he stepped through me. My chest tightened and I caught my breath. A sudden chill shot through my body, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I turned and watched my blurry apparition press the elevator call button and wait.

As my shadowed self stepped into the elevator, Cyndi’s scream echoed through the hallway. I turned in the direction of my apartment door just as Cyndi blasted through me, giving me the same sensation of chills I had experienced seconds before…

“Oh God!” Cyndi screamed, standing in front of the apartment door. Then she ran as fast as she could to catch the elevator door from closing. Unfortunately she was only seconds shy from stopping Jack long enough to explain what he’d just seen. Tears streamed from her eyes as she watched the elevator readout count backward: 24… 23… 22…

Just then Kevin walked into the hallway, barefoot and only wearing his trousers.

“Hey, are you okay? You didn’t say anything when you ran out of the apartment,” Kevin said.

“Get out! Just leave. You’ve made of mess of everything,” yelled Cyndi.

Without waiting for another word from Kevin, Cyndi ran around the corner and burst into the stairwell. She hoped that the elevator would stop at least a few floors on its way down, that she might be able to get downstairs before Jack.

The stairwell was brightly illuminated, light reflecting off the stark white walls. The stairs were hard concrete with a worn steel guardrail at the center. Cyndi leaned over and could see all the way down to the first level. She was relieved to see that nobody else was in the stairwell to impede her race to the bottom.

She took the steps two at a time, moving slowly at first, establishing a rhythm in her stride. After passing the twentieth floor, she felt confident enough to increase her speed to three steps at a time. The breeze formed by her speed began to tug at the tails of her bathrobe. She ignored the fluttering, and remained focused on getting to the bottom before Jack.

At the eighteenth floor, she grabbed the railing tight and swung her body around, throwing herself farther down the stairs. But her robe caught on the end of the handrail, launching her over the edge of the metal guardrail.

The echoes of Cyndi’s scream went unheard as she fell through the center of the stairwell. She lashed out multiple times to catch a handhold along the way down, but as her plummeting body picked up speed, each grasp of her hand launched her in the opposite direction, knocking her legs and body against the numerous guardrails all the way down.

Around the fifth floor, her calf slapped hard against the guardrail, slowing her speed down greatly, but snapping her leg bone at the same time. She screamed in pain. Moments later, her naked body slammed onto the floor at the base of the stairwell, the edge of her jaw driving into the bottom stair tread.

Breathless, I opened my eyes, which were blurry with tears. I was back in the hospital room, Cyndi at my side. I tried to keep my emotions in check, but I sobbed softly as I held Cyndi’s hand, wishing for the pain to be over. Wishing for it all to be over.

I wiped the tears away and suddenly felt Cyndi squeeze my hand. I blinked my vision clear and gazed into her eyes. She was staring back at me, blinking through tears of her own. She tried to speak, but her jaw would not move.

“Hold on a minute, baby. This might hurt,” I said as I leaned close to her.

I gently parted her lips and looked inside her left cheek. I found where the wires were twisted together, then slowly unfastened them, partially freeing her lower jaw.

“Shh. Don’t try to speak yet. I have to do the other side.”

Tears streaked down the side of her face as she nodded.

Repeating the procedure on her right cheek, I tossed the bloody wire to the side, allowing her jaw to move freely. As I sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes squinted tightly, most likely fighting back the pain.

Cyndi moaned as she opened her mouth as far as she could.

“You don’t have to speak, baby. You don’t have to say anything,” I said, wishing her pain away.

She opened her wet eyes, her stare piercing into mine. “M’m. Sus ssorrry.”

“Cyn, I’ve thought about what you did to me, and I am upset. But I…” I dropped my head down and rested my forehead on the edge of her bed. “I just wish you would have said something. I could have changed. Whatever it was, I would have moved mountains for you. Cyn, I love you, and I… I forgive you.”

Tears flowed freely from my eyes. I was surprised with myself at how quickly I was able to forgive … for something that I had only witnessed just yesterday. I wiped my eyes on the bed linens, then looked into her hopeless gaze. Her eyes were as wet as mine, and I knew the time was imminent.

Moments later, the strength of her stare faded as she stared off into the distance. Her clutch on my hand went flaccid, and her head lolled back into her pillow. A wisp of smoke began to slip past her bruised and battered face.

Wishing I had more time to share some last minute words with her, but I was caught off guard. I quickly pulled her box out of my pocket and opened it in the palm of my hand.

Her soul drifted freely through the air, sliding in and out of my own body before entering the box. As the last bit of smoke entered, the box closed before it vanished. In its place a new box materialized.

I slid the box into my pocket before leaning in and kissing Cyndi. I kissed her forehead and then her nose. Then I kissed her lips for the last time.

Tears rolled off my cheeks and dropped onto her face, streaking across her bruised skin.

“I love you,” I said, and wished to be someplace else. A second later I vanished from her bedside.

I appeared on the sidewalk in front of Engineers Gate, which led into the park. I looked around and wondered what had brought me to that exact point.

I stood fixed on the sidewalk and pondered. Cyndi had been my soul mate, there was no question. I wondered how I would continue on without her to talk to every day. My heart ached deeply at the loss of her life. The loss of my wife – my partner – my life. It felt like a part of me was ripped from my being, leaving a gaping hole, void of purpose.

Compartmentalizing those thoughts, I rotated slowly, taking in my surroundings in all directions. My eyes fixated on a grand Art Deco church that sat directly across the street. Without a second thought, I crossed over and entered through one of the double entry doors. According to a small sign on the wall, the doors led into a vestibule under the west gallery. Beyond, three arches led into the nave. I stepped through the arches and into the voluminous chamber. Aisles were situated between internal buttresses that rose with arches to near-full height. I somehow knew that I was in the right place.

Slowly, I walked up the center aisle to the front of the nave. To my relief, the church was practically empty. I needed solitude right then. Or was it something else that I desired? Solitude—the act of being alone—was not quite the same as no one being able to see me. If I was in a crowd, I was not alone. Lonely, perhaps, but not truly alone. It’s a fine distinction.