Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

As the doctor explained the surgical procedure to Penelope, she began to cry. He tried to soothe her, assuring her that although it was not common practice, it does happen in about thirty percent of all childbirths, and that she would be awake for the entire procedure. Penelope nodded slowly.

“If you’d like, your spouse can still be in the operating room for the birth,” said the doctor.

“No. There is no father. It’s just me,” Penelope said softly.

“All right then. Nurse Perry here will prep you, then wheel you down to the OR.” Hauser and I jumped into the corridor before the doctor made his exit.

“Well, how fortunate for us,” Hauser said.

“How do you mean?”

“The C-section will make this soul collection much easier on everyone. Because Penelope will be on some fairly heavy anesthesia, she’ll be slower to react to the death of her child than if she gave birth naturally.”

“That makes sense, but how does that make it easier on us? We’re still collecting the soul from a newborn baby.”

“Unfortunately, that’s unavoidable, but it will make it easier on us not having to witness the mom react as emotionally, otherwise.”

I nodded. “I guess you have a point there.”

“Now let’s go find some scrubs so we can blend in while in the operating room. If Penelope is in flux, we don’t necessarily want to alarm her by being the only two plainclothed men in the OR.”

We had little difficulty finding the supply room, but the procedure was still halfway done by the time Hauser and I entered the operating room. Penelope lay with her head away from the door, an anesthesiologist right next to her ear. Penelope’s arm was extended out to the side and was strapped to a padded board. Multiple IVs were taped along her arm. She was awake but groggy.

On either side of her abdomen stood a doctor and a nurse. As Hauser and I approached, I mistakenly glanced down at the point of incision and nearly lost my lunch. Sitting on top of her chest were half of Penelope’s internal organs. Having never witnessed an open operation before, I felt a little light headed. Instinctively, I turned my back to the doctor and focused on Penelope’s face. Otherwise I was certain to pass out.

If it wasn’t for the mask covering Hauser’s face, I would have sworn he was grinning at my wooziness.

I looked down at Penelope, and she returned my gaze. She blinked her eyes slowly then shifted her focus to Hauser before returning them back to me. I nodded reassuringly, and she smiled. Quite the contrast to her behavior earlier.

Moments later, the doctor spoke. “Penelope? Can you hear me?”

“Yyyess,” she slurred.

“Congratulations, Penelope, you have a son. Have you selected a name yet?” asked the doctor.

Maintaining my focus on Penelope, she nodded her head almost imperceptibly. “B-B-Blake,” Penelope stuttered.

As the nurse took the baby to the cleanup station at the side of the room, panic engulfed me. I quickly withdrew the soul box to read the name. Blake was not on the box. Calvin still was engraved clearly. As I showed the box to Hauser, he once again retrieved his pocket watch, flipping it open for both of us to see. It was apparent that the soul to be collected just moved to the far side of the room. A dot still flashed at Penelope’s location.

“W-wait,” she protested. “C-Calvin. Don’t take my Calvin away,” she cried, looking me in the face.

Hauser motioned me toward the faintly crying baby with his eyes. He nodded, then stepped between Penelope and the warming table, blocking her view.

As I approached the nurse attending to the newborn, I saw that she’d already cleaned the birth residue from his body. As he lay there, he squirmed slightly but was quite lethargic. A moment later, his body stopped moving completely, as his pink skin began to fade. The nurse began several resuscitation procedures, but there was no change. Calvin was unresponsive.

“Doctor? We have a problem. He’s stopped breathing,” the nurse said calmly.

The doctor rushed over and tried to revive the baby. After several minutes attempting to bring life back to the newborn, he dropped his head low and shook it. “Dammit,” he cried.

A moment later a faint wisp exited the baby’s mouth. I quickly retrieved my soul box and captured Calvin’s soul. Forgoing the cleanse for the moment, I slipped the box back into my pocket.

When I returned to Penelope’s side, Hauser looked at me expectantly. I nodded and patted my pocket. I then looked down at Penelope’s tear-streaked face with a heavy heart. She was still groggy, but she was very aware of our presence.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I wish there was another way,” I said.

Penelope nodded almost imperceptibly then closed her eyes tightly and sobbed.

Hauser and I disappeared a moment later.

Back at my park bench, Hauser and I stood in silence for a moment.

“What the hell?” I asked.

“My sentiments exactly,” Hauser replied.

“What just happened? I mean, we’re not supposed to be able to be seen or heard by anyone living, right?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s right. Unless the soul is in flux. But usually those situations act more like a living being than one that is about to die. They still shouldn’t be able to see us until death is absolute or imminent.” Hauser scratched his head in contemplation. Then his eyes brightened up instantly. “Quickly, Jack. Cleanse the soul and get your new box. Maybe Penelope’s soul will be next.”

I brought the box to my lips and inhaled sharply. A second later the box disappeared. Then, surprising both Hauser and me, two boxes appeared in its place. I looked at Hauser, whose eyebrows raised nearly off his head.

“Well, champ. It looks like you’ve graduated. You’ve got your first double collection from the Sentinel.”

“But wasn’t Abigail and Raymond a double collection?” I asked.

“Not exactly. Yes, they happened in quick succession, but were two separate collections. Usually when there is a double collection like you have now, the circumstances are quite different. The deaths will be nearly instantaneous.”

“Like from an accident?”

“Typically, yes. That’s how most multiple deaths occur,” Hauser said slowly. “Unless… unless it is—well, never mind.”

“Go on?” I urged.

“Unless there’s some kind of catastrophe that causes multiple deaths instantaneously. Tell me, Jack, who are the two names on your boxes?”

I twisted the boxes in my hands until the names were clear to me. “Luke Holloway and Meghan Sharp.”

“Well, neither of them are the baby’s mother, so I’m not sure what that’s about. Why don’t you start tracking down your new marks, and I’ll go find out what’s up with Penelope’s fluxing soul.”

“Yeah, sure. But, before you go, what about—”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Your little temper tantrum earlier is water under the bridge. If the Sentinel really accepted your resignation, they would not have given you another soul box, let alone two at the same time. Let’s just try and stay on target from here on out, agreed?”

Strangely, a wave of relief overpowered me. Part of me really wanted to be done with this godforsaken job. But at the same time, I felt at home. I felt right, like I was in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing.

“Sounds good, Hauser. I’ll try and do my best.”

“I know you will,” Hauser said. “Now, if’ you’ll excuse me, I need to—”

“Wait! I almost forgot.”

“I know, kid. Alistair Hobbs. I’ve got somebody working on him as we speak. Remember,” Hauser said as he dangled his pocket watch between his fingers, “I’m all knowing.” Then he winked, turned, and vanished.