Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“What I mean is that tracking down a soul by only the first name might be successful if the soul you were here to collect was actually inside a living person. Jack, the soul you are here to collect has not even been born yet. We need to go up to the second floor, to the maternity ward.”

“What the hell?” I snapped. “You knew this was going to be a newborn baby and you didn’t say a word?”

“Well, you did say you wanted to collect the soul on your own,” Hauser said with a smirk.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I messed up. I shouldn’t have gotten cocky. But how did you know?”

Hauser began walking toward the stairwell. “I knew because I’ve collected souls from newborn babies numerous times over the years. I knew from the moment the blank box first arrived. Then, when the first name etched in, I figured I’d let you run with it. With the first name provided, it should have been a lot easier than how it was for me.”

“Care to enlighten me?” I asked.

“The way I had it, I didn’t get a name on my first newborn box. You see, the parents I had refused to name their child until the moment it was born. So I had to sit around for seventy-two hours until the box finally engraved. Once it did, it was a matter of deduction that led me to the dying child.”

As we approached the stairwell door, we slowed our pace until the crowd around us dissipated. Once it was clear, Hauser blasted through the door and began the ascent to the second level.

“How’d you do that?” I asked. “Were you in a hospital? Or was this before hospitals were even invented?”

“Ha ha, smart ass. I’m old, but I’m not that old,” Hauser said. “Yes, much like you, I maintained my presence in a local hospital. And because of where my location was then, there weren’t very many births, so it was quite easy to locate.”

As we stepped out into the second-floor hallway, I tried to imagine what Hauser’s experience had been like.

“And that’s it? You walk into the room and snatch the soul from a crying baby?”

“Taking a soul is never easy, Jack. You know that now, right? Just because the baby has no previous life experiences doesn’t make it any easier.”

Awkwardly, we stood in front of the glass wall surrounding the nursery in silence. We looked upon a dozen clear bassinets, with an infant wearing either a pink or baby-blue knitted cap inside each.

“Well, I guess we can at least eliminate any of the pink hats,” I said. “But without a last name, how do we know which is the correct baby?”

Hauser pulled out his pocket watch and reviewed its face. A moment later he snapped it shut. “Well, none of these babies are your soul borrower. We’re still early, and your child has yet to be born. Until that happens, we’re going to have to do a little sleuthing in the matter.”

“Sleuthing?” I asked.

“That’s right, we’re going to have to do a room-by-room search. See if we can find any clues on who our mother-to-be is.”

“Don’t you think that’s what I’ve been doing for the last two weeks?”

“Obviously. But you were on the wrong floor entirely.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you keep reminding me,” I said. “So, wise sage, how do you propose that we proceed?”

“We’ll just have to go into each birthing room and see if there’s any indication on which mothers are having boys and then narrow it down from there. If there’s conversation in the room, we’ll listen for talk about baby names.”

I sighed louder than I expected to. Hauser looked at me sideways, cocking his brow in question.

“Don’t get me wrong, Hauser, but I almost prefer it to your old way.

“Boy, that’s the lazy way. Whether you like it or not, we’re going to do this. You need to learn to be proactive in these kinds of scenarios. And to make sure that you’re not phoning this in , we’re going to do this together.”

“Oh, joy,” I said as I pushed through the first door on my right.

When I entered, I was surprised by the number of people that could actually fit in a room that was only fifteen foot square. Besides the mother-to-be, there must have been an additional dozen people waiting for the birth of the child. Fortunately, nobody paid any attention to me entering the room. Within seconds, Hauser materialized right next to me.

“You know, champ, you have certain skills that allow you to move about much more discreetly.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking when I pushed on the door. I’ll be more cautious in the future… oh wise one.”

Hauser winked and then moved through the crowd and stepped up to the bed. I followed, trying not to run into any of the people present.

“Well? Tell me what you see,” Hauser said.

I surveyed the room, noticing a plethora of teddy bears and balloons scattered about—gifts from loving family members, no doubt. As I glanced down at the mother-to-be, I noted that she looked to be in good spirits but wore an air of tiredness. The man standing next to her, his hand woven into hers, was presumably her husband. He looked equally exhausted. The remaining people, all extended family, most likely, gave me no indication.

“I, uh, without looking at the medical charts, I… I’m out.”

“What? You give up so easily?” Hauser said. “This one’s an ace. Do you see all of the gifts?”

I looked around, taking in the deluge of gift-shop balloons and stuffed animals once again. I shrugged.

“Tell me, Jack. Were you color-blind before you became a soul collector, or is this a recent condition?”

The moment Hauser mentioned color, it hit me. All the balloons were pink. The couple were having a girl. I shook my head in disappointment and vanished.

I appeared outside the next room and waited for Hauser. Within seconds, he appeared next to me.

“There are signs everywhere, Jack. All you have to do is pay attention.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how I missed that one.”

I stepped toward the door, and as I reached for the handle, Hauser gripped my shoulder and pulled me back.

“You know, we really don’t have to go through each of these rooms when the medical chart is hanging right outside the door,” Hauser said as he nodded to the familiar aluminum clipboard hanging next to the doorway.

Pulling the chart from the wall, I flipped it open and scanned through the pertinent information. Inside, there was the mother’s and the father’s names, along with their relevant medical histories. About midway down the page, there was a notation about the sex of the child. A capital F was present. Without wasting another moment, I flipped the chart closed and reattached it to the hook.

“Next,” I said as I moved toward the next door.

Unfortunately, the next birthing room had no medical chart hanging outside, making our job slightly more difficult. I glanced at Hauser before raising my eyebrows and vanishing.

Popping into the room, we were met by a number of people. The pregnant woman in bed, her husband at her side, a slew of nurses, and a doctor sitting on a stool between the woman’s legs.

Before I could comprehend the situation, the birth was already happening.

“Okay, Wilma. Are you ready?”

Wilma leaned forward slightly, her cheeks covered in tears. She nodded, then gripped her husband’s hand. “I think so.”

“It’s time to push. Can you give me a solid effort?” asked the doctor.

In response, Wilma grunted and screamed as she pushed.

I glanced at Hauser, who was wide-eyed with anticipation. Personally, I had never witnessed a live birth in my life. And to tell the truth, the situation kind of gave me the willies. I thought back to my days in high school, when I’d freak out at the sight of blood. Now here I was at the precipice of life, and I wasn’t sure how I would react.