Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

I leaned forward, my interest brimming about the famous poet. “How was that possible?”

“It’s never been positively determined, but it was assumed that Walt was possibly depressed at that point in his life and was considering suicide. He was an emotional mess, having just published Leaves of Grass a few days before his father’s death.”

“I get that Walt was probably upset at the time, witnessing a strange man taking his father’s soul, but hasn’t he forgiven Hauser for it by now?”

“Oh, he has. It’s actually Hauser that has held the grudge after all this time. That’s how Walt tells it, at least. If you ask me, I think the both of them are being quite childish about the whole ordeal,” Wilson said, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

I nodded as the latest information about Hauser sunk in. His psyche was deeper than I had ever imagined.

“I couldn’t ask while in the council, so I’ll ask you now: What exactly were you thinking when you tried to save those souls?” Wilson asked.

Here it comes. Go ahead and give me the same verbal reprimand that Hauser did.

“Don’t get me wrong, Jack. What you did is neither here nor there. I’m just curious what inspired you to try and change the life direction of those souls. I want to know… for myself.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never altered fate, not even once? You’ve collected every single soul that was assigned to you?” I asked. “How’d you do it so… so absentmindedly, when there were so many good people—great people—dying for no good reason?”

It was Wilson’s turn to avert his eyes. “Jack, I’ve never been a rule breaker. Yes, I’ve thought about making a change a time or two but I just couldn’t follow through with it. I didn’t find it appropriate in the least.”

“Well, I think that’s what makes you and me different. I understand your stance on the rules . In my past life, I was the proverbial brownnoser at work. In corporate America, it’s a form of survival. If you don’t follow along and do as you’re told, you are promptly eliminated and replaced with a yes-man,” I said. “Since taking over for you, a bit of clarity has come over me and I’ve realized that changes can and, right or not, should be made. I respect your decision to have followed the rules for so long, but it’s not my approach.”

Wilson nodded but continued to avoid eye contact. “Wait a minute, come to think of it, I haven’t collected every soul that was sent for. I didn’t collect your soul,” Wilson said excitedly.

“But weren’t you allowed to let me keep mine?” I asked.

Wilson smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You were destined to enter the afterlife with your soul intact.”

“Hmm. That brings up another question: Was I recruited or was this your idea to let me continue on in the afterlife?”

“Well, it was a little bit of both. After sixty years, I really was tiring of my duties. But as for you, yes, you were a targeted interest.”

“Was it because of my work history?” I asked.

“No, not entirely. Although that did have a part to play in your recruitment. They were more interested in the fact that you had no living family members to speak of. Both of your parents had passed on years ago and you were an only child. Aunts and uncles?” Wilson asked.

I shook my head. “No. I think there might have been some distant relatives that I’d never met, but none within the state.”

“You see, the Sentinel targets people that have no reason to make life-altering changes for their loved ones. Fate already had it that Cyndi was going to die within days of your own death. She would have been a deal breaker if she would have lived on. But because her accident and injuries were so severe, there was really no way for her to continue on. You were an easy pick as my replacement.”

Thinking back to Cyndi’s terrible fall down the stairwell made me shudder. Until Wilson brought up that horrific accident, I had been doing a decent job forgetting it. But now sorrow began to set in all over again.

“That’s all water under the bridge, Jack. You can’t go back and save her now. I think you’ve been procrastinating long enough. Let’s flip the coin and catch up to where you are now.”

I nodded my head in agreement and turned the coin over.

Suddenly Hauser stood and moved to the center of the circle. He slowly walked around, looking each of the council members in the face.

“Before we jump to any disciplinary conclusions, I think what Jack says has a lot of merit.”

“Proceed,” Earhart said.

“Perhaps trying to capture Enoch the next time he shows up is aiming a bit too high. Perhaps approaching this from a different angle might be more appropriate. If Walt can create something, some kind of marker that we can tag Enoch with the next time he comes around, perhaps we might then be able to track him back to where he hides out.”

As Hauser continued his slow, concentric path at the center of the gathering, I noticed a number of the council members begin to nod their heads. When I glanced at Whitman, he was looking right back at me. He smiled briefly. Nervously, I returned his smile and refocused my attention on Hauser.

“Despite Jack’s indiscretions with his duties, I think we should encourage him to save yet another soul. I think we should give him a new soul box and allow him to once again try and change fate,” Hauser said, holding a hand up to the oncoming challenges from the various council members. “We allow Jack to continue the farce long enough to coax Enoch to him. I’ll be there throughout the entire process. Either he or I should be able to attach whatever Walt can come up with to Enoch’s body. Once he’s been tagged, our battle is half over.”

Hauser retook his seat and we both looked around the gathering. The temperament had certainly changed and I was very thankful for Hauser’s interference.

You’re welcome, buddy. You owe me one.

The gathering room filled with murmurs of the possibilities of potentially apprehending Enoch. Hauser and I sat silently as the council discussed all aspects of the proposal. After nearly an hour of planning and negotiating, Earhart spoke.

“It is the ruling of the council that Jack Duffy will maintain his soul collection abilities for the time being. There will, however, be a full review of his work history upon the completion of his next soul collection. In addition, Jack will be given an additional ability to aid him with this task. Do you accept these conditions, Mr. Duffy?”

“I do,” I said without hesitation. “But what additional abilities could you possibly give me that I don’t already possess?”

“You will be given the ability to converse with the living. For all intents and purposes, you will be a living, breathing person. You will be able to be seen and heard by everyone around you. We feel that this enhancement, albeit temporary, will give you the edge you may need to help achieve your goal.”

“And you feel this way because…” I urged for more information.

“Because, Mr. Duffy, the next soul that will be assigned to you will be for Miss Penelope Rose,” Earhart said. “Because of your previous interactions with her, we feel that having the ability to be seen and heard by everyone should improve the likelihood of achieving your objective without raising too much suspicion.”

My God, not Penelope. Hasn’t that woman suffered enough, losing her own son?

Careful, Jack, Hauser thought to me.

“Yes, Miss Rose will attempt suicide. And it seems to be an unavoidable fate. But with your own personal history on the matter,” Earhart said, “you might be able to convince her otherwise.”