Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

“Then why not let us soul collectors in on that knowledge? It would make this whole job a lot easier, right?”

“One would think, champ. All I know is that the Sentinel has their reasons. I learned a long time ago to not question a lot of their mysterious ways. It’s taken me centuries to gain their trust, and that means something.”

“Well, I do apologize. You have certainly taught me a little humility after all.”

“And for what it’s worth, I was going to let you know earlier on, but then you threw your little hissy fit and didn’t give me a chance.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all that too,” I said, dipping my head low to hide my embarrassment.

“So, are you ready to return to your obligation now?” Hauser asked.

“I am. But I have one more question first.”

“Just one? Shoot.”

“How is it that Enoch continues to invade my dreams?”

“Have you had another dream?” Hauser asked, clearly disappointed at my choice of sleeping again.

“Yeah, after all of that jumping around yesterday, I fell asleep in front of the fire,” I said apologetically.

“Understandable,” Hauser said. “When Enoch disappeared, he took with him all of the tools of the trade that he had with him. There was one item in particular that the Sentinel wants back like no other. It is a device that allows him to enter the mind of anyone that he chooses. Alive or dying. That’s how he’s able to exist in your dreams.”

“Oh my. And there’s no way to turn it off, or deactivate the device?”

“The powers that be are working on that very thing. But they’ve had no luck. So we’re all encouraged not to sleep until Enoch is captured and the device is returned or destroyed.”

A moment later, Hauser stood and returned his chair to the kitchen table. When he turned toward me, he glanced around and said, “You know, this place is very similar to my own humble abode. I’ll have to show it to you sometime. I think you’d like it.”

A moment later we vanished from the cabin.

Hauser and I arrived in the maternity ward, very near where we’d last visited.

“You know, we still have the problem of only having a first name,” I said.

“Well, Jack, we never really had a problem with that. I have a… gadget—”

“Of course you do. And where was this gadget earlier?” I asked.

“Training, compadre. I had to make you work for some of this. But now we might be cutting it close.” Hauser pulled out his pocket watch and flipped open the cover. He held it out in front of us. On the face were several lighted dots. Some were brighter than others, while some flashed on and off.

“Okay, what does this do?”

“Each dot represents an impending collection. The brighter the dot is, the closer to its collection event. The closer the dot is to the center of the dial, the nearer we are in proximity to that soul,” Hauser explained.

I pointed at one of the flashing dots. “And what about the dots that won’t stay lit?” I asked.

“Those souls are still in flux. Those are… how can I say this? They still have options at life.”

“What? So not every soul will be collected?”

Hauser cringed at my question. “Yeah, I knew this would come up at some point. Besides our own ability to deviate from filling individual boxes, with extreme prejudice I might add, some souls might continue living their lives.”

“And who makes that determination?” I asked.

“Neither you nor I have any control of those souls. They are simply undecided—a decision based on the individual at the time of death, or impending death, rather. Take your soul, for example. If I’d been your soul collector, your soul would have flashed the majority of the day leading up to your collection. Suicide is the biggest unknown in our profession.”

Being reminded of my selfish act once again, I lowered my head in disgrace. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Wanting to change the subject, I took Hauser’s watch and held it at arm’s length as I slowly spun around. “It looks like there is a soul that is bright and close to the center,” I said. I turned toward the long hallway. “And it appears to be just up ahead.” I handed the pocket watch back to Hauser, who verified my assumption.

“Lead the way, Skipper,” Hauser said, handing the watch back to me once again.

I walked down the hallway slowly, holding the open pocket watch out in front of us. Like Hauser said, the closer we got to the soul, the brighter the dot became, and all the other souls on the dial began to slide off the edge. It was as if the radar was zooming in to the soul the closer we got to it. When the soul was practically at the center of the dial, we stopped. I gradually swung my arm around in an arc. As I did so, the dot near the center circled around the dial, returning back to the center as I faced room 228.

“I think he’s in here,” I said.

I stepped toward the door and reviewed the medical chart hanging just outside. The name on the chart was Penelope Rose, and the baby’s gender was male. I sighed and stepped into the room.

Once inside, it was clear that we were not in an ordinary birthing room. It was far more sterile and bland compared to the soothing colors and comfort level of the previous birthing rooms. Besides Hauser and me, the mother, Penelope, was alone. As we neared the edge of the bed, her face came into view. It was contorted, as if she’d been suffering the pains of contractions. Her eyes were closed and her entire face perspired.

“Well, no birth yet,” I said to Hauser.

A second later Penelope opened her eyes and stared directly at me. “What, what did you just say?” she asked.

I was shocked to hear her address me and quickly glanced at Hauser for direction. He promptly pulled out his pocket watch to review, then shrugged but said nothing.

“I am… sorry, but you can hear me?”

“Of course I can fucking hear you. You’re standing right next to me,” she snapped angrily.

“I… I’m sorry, I thought I was… speaking in a quieter tone,” I lied.

“Well, either speak up or get out!” she bellowed.

“I apologize,” Hauser said. “We’re just making rounds, and my colleague here was expecting a birth in this room any moment.”

“Well, do you see a goddamn baby?”

“No, you’re quite right. Please forgive the intrusion,” Hauser said as he tugged on my arm to retreat.

As we approached the door, a doctor and several nurses walked in. One of the nurses stepped up to Penelope’s bedside and began to review her vital statistics. Meanwhile, the doctor wheeled up a small stool at the foot of the bed.

“And how are we doing today, Penelope?” The doctor asked.

“How the hell do you think I’m doing?” she barked. “I’m nine months pregnant and in pain.”

The doctor smiled briefly before continuing. “Well, let’s see if we can fix that, shall we? Let me check your dilation and see where we stand.” The doctor lifted the end of the bedsheet and slid his gloved hand beneath. As he reached deep under the covers, Penelope squirmed uncomfortably. A moment later the doctor withdrew.

“Well, unfortunately, your dilation has stalled. Right now our only viable option is to perform a Cesarean section. Are you familiar with the procedure?”

Hauser and I remained at the edge of the room, just out of Penelope’s sight. Hauser withdrew his pocket watch and reviewed its face. A look of confusion filled his eyes as he tilted the dial to me. At the center of the watch, there were two distinct glowing dots. One burned solid, while the other flashed on and off. I looked at Hauser and raised an eyebrow. He returned my quizzical look and repocketed his watch.