Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

Finally, after several minutes of boring medical jargon, the doctor asked if Theo had any questions. After hearing his name, I didn’t stick around a moment longer.

I walked out of the bullpen and headed directly to room 742. As I approached the opening, I glanced at the medical chart hanging just outside, where the name Alistair Hobbs was printed clearly. I smiled and walked in.

As I slid the door shut, Hobbs looked up at me from his bed and smiled. “Hey, Jack. What’s the good word?”

“You know. Same shit, different day. How about you? Hanging in there I see?” I said.

“Well, I’m as surprised as you are. With the way these doctors and nurses prick and prod me, I feel like a human pincushion,” Hobbs said as he adjusted the oxygen tubes near his nose. “Have any luck?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m just starting my rounds for the day, but…”

“Hey, Jack. Keep your head up. I’m sure Calvin will present himself when it’s time.”

“I hope so, Alistair,” I said, nodding. “Speaking of, did you by chance get any information out of the staff?”

Hobbs rolled his head from side to side as it rested on the pillow. “Sorry, pal, but as soon as I brought up another patient, they shut me down pretty quick, telling me that information was only released to family members. I couldn’t even get anybody to confirm or deny that there was anyone named Calvin even admitted in the hospital.” Hobbs closed his eyes and took in several deep breaths.

“You doing okay, Alistair?” I asked. “You look a little out of sorts.”

“Hey, you know. One minute I feel like I’m doing better, then the next I feel like I might not make it to my afternoon sponge bath.”

“And still no word? Your collector hasn’t shown up yet?”

“Nope. The only ghost I can see or hear is you, my friend.” Hobbs winked and smiled.

“Well, I’m sure that you’re not in any rush to move on into the afterlife, but if I’m seeing you and talking to you, I’m sure your collector is on their way.”

I felt awkward talking to Hobbs about his imminent death, but when I first met him two weeks ago, he had fully accepted the fact that he was going to die. In fact, he practically welcomed it with open arms.

“Is there a number you can call or something? You know, and request some assistance for me?” Hobbs asked with a grin.

“Ha ha. If there is one, my trainer didn’t give it to me. But as soon as I see him, I’ll ask him about the hold up. I’ll make sure he comes to visit you right off. Deal?”

“Thank you, sir. It’s not like I’m dying to get out of this world,” he said with another wink and a chuckle, “but if it’ll help with this pain, I’m ready to go now.”

“Sounds good, Alistair. I’ll keep you in the loop. But for now, I’m gonna go take a walk through the emergency room. With any luck, maybe my Calvin is just checking in. If I don’t talk to you before, be sure to have a happy afterlife.”

Hobbs nodded his head, then closed his eyes to sleep.

Stepping back into the nurse’s galley, I decided to run by the patient board to see if any new names had been added. After a brief check, it appeared that someone had rewritten all the patients’ names, eliminating all the first names from the list. All that was left was their first initial. I scanned through the names, arriving at a new patient’s name that began with the letter C . A quick glance to the side and I found that he, or she, was in room 715. Without hesitation, I was off to look for Calvin.

“Please let it be,” I said. I needed to move on from this soul and get out of this hospital.

As I sped through the stark hallways, I glanced at the room numbers as they decreased in count. Even numbers on the left, odd numbers on the right. Room 721. Room 719. Room 717. Room 715. I stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before lifting the medical chart off the wall. It was clearly a new patient, as nobody had written in the patient’s name on the board above the hook yet. As I flipped the aluminum cover open, my eyes darted to the top of the chart to the patient’s name. Charles Grafton.

“Crap.”

I slammed the medical chart shut and slapped it against the wall, barely catching the hook at the top. I felt like punching a wall.

“Dammit, Hauser. Why is this so difficult?” I said as I blasted out of the ICU wing and headed for the stairway.

“Hey, compadre. If you ask a question of me, you might want to stick around for the answer,” Hauser called out from behind me.

Hauser’s voice halted my stride. I spun around and found him wearing a doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He was leaning casually against the side wall. I stared at him incredulously.

“What?” Hauser asked. “Didn’t you just call out for me?”

Exasperated, I walked up to him, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. But before I could say a word, he threw his hands up in the air.

“Slow down there, Jack. You’re the one that wanted to do this collection alone. I only gave you the space that you asked for. Am I wrong?” Hauser said.

“I… uh… yeah. I guess I did. I just thought that after—”

“Don’t sweat it, kid. I get it. It’s easy to feel the way you did after the successful sidestep of collecting your last soul. I guess I’d be feeling pretty invincible myself. But I don’t think I would’ve handled it quite the same way as you.”

“What? The same way as me? All I did was ask for some leeway on this new soul box.”

“Yeah, I know. But it was the way that you asked for it. From the moment you got your new box, you started strutting around like you were omnipotent or something. I figured a little humble pie would do you well.”

I could feel my heart beat faster but suppressed the building anger quickly. As much as I hated to admit it, Hauser was right.

“Well? Are you here to help or are you going to just continue to criticize me?”

“That’s up to you, Jack. Do you want to carry on with training, like an adult, or do you want to hold on to your attitude?”

Goddammit, can’t he just let it go?

“Careful, Jack. Your thoughts are louder than you might imagine,” Hauser said.

Shit. “I mean, yes. I would like your help, and I will continue my training like an adult,” I said, fighting back my temper.

“Great. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve done up till now.”

“Well, not a lot. I have the soul box with only a first name on it. It etched itself on the box shortly before you took off. But you already knew that. Unfortunately, the last name has yet to engrave itself, and for the life of me, I cannot find a soul bearer with the first name of Calvin in the entire hospital. Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Hauser’s brow tightened as he listened to my update. He nodded his head. “Trust me, Jack. If I said you’d find him here, then he’ll be here. Continue.”

“Continue with what? That’s it. I’ve been through the hospital more times than I can count, and I can’t find a Calvin anywhere. That’s what.”

“Well, first off, I believe you’re on the wrong floor.”

“I only come down to the emergency wing thinking that Calvin might be coming in through an ambulance. I’ve spent the majority of my time up on the seventh floor. There’s no Calvin there either. Trust me. I’ve looked.”

“Relax, Jack. I know you’re frustrated. I knew this would be a difficult collection from the very beginning.”

Not exactly listening to Hauser, I continued. “I really thought with a unique name like Calvin, this collection would be so much simpler than how it has played out.”

“Normally your process here would certainly produce desirable results. But for this soul, you might as well just throw all of that out the window.”