My Soul To Keep

by Jackie Sonnenberg

  I suppose class officially began when he decided to get up and stand before the class.

  “Welcome to English.”

  He walked to the front of the room where he could see and be seen by all, observing each one of us.

  “I am Mr. Brooks, but I actually prefer being called Mitchell. While I will be doing a considerable amount of talking in this class, you will too.”

  Mitchell made a point to pace and make steady eye contact.

  “This is 7th Grade English and Composition, not only will you spend class time writing essays but you will also work on presentation and public speaking. The way to successful writing and speaking is to be confident and know your subject well. How well? Well enough,” he shrugged. “Of course it needs to be well enough to that your audience takes in every word you say. Make yourself believable. And the only way to do this is the most important part: Confidence. If you don’t have confidence, you don’t have an audience. Who is going to take you seriously if you can’t take yourself seriously?”

  The teacher walked back to his desk and pulled out a book.

  “Steps To a More Successful You. I wrote this in my early years as a motivational speaker and teacher. Step One is finding that confidence and grasping it tight.”

  Here, he slowly curled his fingers into a fist.

  “Grab it, hold it, and do not let it go. Be confident in yourself and an audience will never intimidate you. It should be the other way around. You are in control of the audience by having a powerful presence. In this class, we will work on getting you to that confident level and then some.”

  Then, I guessed we were starting right then and there. Each of us was to come to the front of the class and state our names and what activities we were interested in. I for one had a massive wedgie and felt only a little insecure about standing there not being able to do anything about it, and if it wasn’t for that I probably would have looked much more confident. Still, Mitchell eyed me curiously, and I hoped it had nothing to do with my wrong choice in underwear that day.

  “My name is Sky Monroe, and I guess I don’t really know what I want to do yet. I’ve…I’ve been wanting to be in touch with my spiritual side lately. I guess I’ve been trying to find myself internally.”

  I knew how dumb that sounded to some people, but I did notice how the teacher reacted to that. He seemed to be very interested in what I said.

  After classes Deanna and I worked on homework at our desks. We were both annoyed that we got so much of it only after the first day.

  “This place is going to be the death of me,” Deanna complained. You could say we were funny foils: She was the tall, golden blonde and beauty queen type and I was the average size, dirty blonde, four-eyed geek. She was the type that developed breasts as soon as she hit double digits and skipped the rest of childhood. “I wish my parents would have let me go to a normal school!”

  I bit my tongue. I knew there was a reason each one of us was at Applewhite Prep. We were made up of delinquent and troubled kids, and exceptional and rich kids. Whatever the reason was, there was one, and if you weren’t born and bred to go to an Ivy League college, you were there because you were broken and needed to be fixed. I’ll bet Deanna and I were both secretly wondering what the other was here for.

  We eventually went to the mess hall for dinner, doing more eating than talking and more people watching than socializing. I had not realized Deanna actually made friends already when some girls came up to our table and invited Deanna to play basketball after dinner.

  “Sure!” she cried right away before looking at me awkwardly. “Oh, did you want to come?” There was an obligated invite if I ever saw one.

  “Oh, no thanks,” I said shaking my head. Horrors of gym class replayed in my head that I never wanted to relive.

  “Okay, see you later then!” Deanna carried up her food tray and left with the girls while I played with leftover croutons in my salad.

  As I walked back to my dorm alone, shivering a bit from the evening chill, something familiar caught my eye. They were on the sidewalk across the street and their long black cloaks dragged on the ground gracefully. Instead of three girls it was two guys, and they were carrying glowing candles that illuminated the space around them. A couple more hooded people trickled out of dorm houses and joined those guys on their path. They all carried candles, too, carrying into the night like a bunch of fireflies. None of them said one word. It made me trip over my feet and stop from going any further down my own path to my dorm room. I saw all the candles and black hoods walking further and further in unison and before I could stop myself, I started walking on that same path. Would any of them notice if someone was following them? I did not run to catch up to them in fear I would be seen, so I walked purposely hiding behind other students.

  The hooded figures walked on, slightly turning to the right to go off-path and head for the grassy area by some trees. I snuck around one of the buildings, feeling like a spy and any snap of a twig under my feet would betray my position. The figures gathered together to make them look like bristles on a brush, and then arranged themselves to sit in a circle on the ground. They held their candles in their laps and bowed their heads. I leaned my head in as far as I dared to. They appeared to be chanting something together.

  “Come together,” I heard. “Come together Guardians of Light. Of present and past.”

  Their bodies did not move but the flames on the candles did, wavering in the wind like hands beckoning something forward.

  “Guardians of Light. Protect the lights. Are you here with us, spirits? Are you here with us?”

  I got on my hands and knees and crawled closer so I could peer through a bush.

  “We know you are here, spirits. Come to us. Give us a sign you are with us. Give us a sign.”

  My body paralyzed at the activity I witnessed. Slowly yet all together the black hooded figures seemed to get higher, like they were all standing up, only when I saw the bottoms of those robes I also saw their legs were still folded. They floated… they rose… until they were almost lined up with the higher tree branches. I nearly lost my balance, my open mouth dry and silent.

  “We will be with you in a higher level,” the kids chanted again. “Soon we will connect on the same level. We are with you, spirits. You are with us, spirits.”

  Chapter 3

  I never closed my eyes.

  Deanna wheezed peacefully in slumber, but I wrapped myself in blankets in the event I would be lifted off and flown out my window.

  The scene I witnessed never left my head, but the more I replayed it the more I wanted to grasp it and keep the memory for myself. It was real. Those cloaked kids made contact, and they did it with almost no effort. It was real. I stared at the dark, knowing there was a way, and there were so many people I could prove wrong: My family, my friends from my other school, and my therapist. I could prove it. The only time my eyes left the ceiling was when I saw the first amber light of dawn. And then, I remembered what that day was.

  It was the Student Activities event, and originally I was not planning on going, but the name that wrapped itself around all the folds in my brain caused me to change my plans. The name I heard last night was the same one on the flyer that boy gave me on Orientation, and I knew it was the one. Guardians of Light.

  After classes I went to dinner alone, Deanna running off with some already established clique. Once I got my tray of potatoes, grilled chicken sandwich and fruit cup I scanned the mostly-filled tables to find one standing out with only one occupant—and I was surprised to see who it was.

  I remember playing with him on the playground, bending to tie his loosened shoelaces and even receiving noogies from his older brother. He was in my class last year and we were even partners for a lab in science and always got A’s on everything when we worked together. We used to trade snacks at lunchtime, especially when our mothers gave us healthy crap. His favorite was the vanilla and chocolate swirl pudding cups and those I had to work extra har
d to trade for. I’d say “trade you for a swirl?” and he would only do it if I had something really good, like fruit gushers or Twizzlers. I had to laugh a little, seeing he was only in school for a day and already he busted out the gummi worms.

  “Need some company, Damien?”

  He looked up. “Sky? Hey!” His brown hair was very flat on his head, like he spent all day wearing a baseball hat and finally decided to let his hair breathe for a while.

  “I totally forgot you were coming here,” I said having a seat and—of course—taking a worm.

  He laughed. “Ha, well, I forgot you were coming here too.”

  “So I guess that makes us even.”

  Finding a familiar face put us both at ease, and instantly we bonded over this reunion. For a moment I forgot my isolation and latched on to something that I knew I would need: A friend. I swished around the last bit of water in my glass and crunched the leftover ice chunks.

  “So, what do you have going on now?”

  “Homework?” Damien answered with a very lack of enthusiasm.

  “Well, I was thinking about going to that Student Activities thing. What about you?”

  “Yeah, I was planning on that. I want to see if they have a chess club.”

  “There is this one group I want to check out,” I admitted. “It seems like it would be something I could use right now…it’s like a spiritual group.”

  Damien raised his brow. “A spiritual group?”

  “From the sounds of it. I mean, it seems like it would be good for me.”

  I was sure Damien remembered what happened with me last spring. There was a beat of silence as we both slurped the last of our drinks through our straws.

  “I actually took Yoga once.”

  This made me look straight at him.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I just never told a soul. My life would be hell if I did.”

  I didn’t say anything else, just waited for him to continue.

  “It’s very peaceful…you know? A good de-stresser. Really clears your mind.”

  “It’s cool,” I said. “Could be worth checking out.”

  “Is there one here?”

  “Probably, but I was thinking about this spiritual group.”

  He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

  “I found out about it walking back from Orientation. One of the group members gave me a flyer and was all formal and practically preaching to me. He was so serious and so into it… it was completely genuine.”

  “People are more serious here.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So I’ll see you tonight at that thing?”

  “Yup. Sounds good.”

  I—of course—left out everything else.

  ***

  What they don’t tell you about any Student Activities event is that it is just an excuse to eat pizza and walk around and socialize. I could tell many people couldn’t care less about organizations and activities. Free pizza was practically the only way to get bodies into the multi-purpose room and even send some wandering eyes to the tables.

  I caught up with my roommate here but she did not acknowledge me much. She hopped around to a few tables chatting with a bunch of people.

  I shook my head, wondering how anyone could show up at a new school and just instantly make so many friends. That was always something other people could do that I couldn’t. It was like you had to be born with it, like it was a type of flower that had the right pollen all the bees were attracted to. Before long I bumped into the one and only familiar face I knew.

  “Geez, how many times a day do you eat?”

  I rolled my eyes, folding up the grease-soaked flyers. “I don’t know, I eat when I’m bored.”

  “I’m still full from the pulled pork and I didn’t even eat all the cole slaw. And here you are eating pizza.” Damien considered me for a minute. “Is it good?”

  “It’s not bad. I got it over there.”

  “I am still looking at stuff.”

  “Me too.”

  We saw sports teams, AV club and choir.

  “Did you find that spiritual group?”

  “No,” I said, both disappointed and surprised. “I actually didn’t.”

  “I didn’t find yoga either,” Damien added. “Or chess.”

  I never really understood the expression “speak of the devil,” but I said it anyway as I peered at the table at the end of the row.

  “What?” Damien asked looking down the row.

  “I think that’s it,” I stated confidently. I recognized the yellow symbol on the flyer and that boy’s t-shirt, and also because I recognized that boy.

  The table was small with one of those lame poster boards like everyone else’s, but instead of students wearing jerseys, there were pictures of group prayer. I was a little hesitant about approaching them, knowing exactly what they were capable of… but I walked to the booth knowing perfectly well I wanted that terrifying power. Damien walked with me. The students there all wore these same t-shirts. They smiled warmly.

  “Do you carry Light?” one of the girls asked. I looked at the poster board at the logo of the lantern and the fire inside. “Do you have the Light inside of you?”

  “I’d like to think so,” I replied. I didn’t see the girls from my class. The boy I first met recognized me and came over.

  “Hi again! So glad you could come!”

  I took a closer look at the pictures of this group, and it was clear they all had a special bond with a special purpose. They stood in circles linking their arms, heads bowed down in love and loyalty. They were together at barbeques, around campfires, and at a beautiful, picturesque scene at a park. The sun hit them perfectly so that every surface of their faces glowed, and the grass was too green to be real. It could have been a painting or photo shopped.

  I faced the boy again and returned his smile.

  “So what exactly do you guys do?” I chose my words carefully.

  “I’m sorry, I realized I never properly introduced myself to you. I’m Seth.”

  To the surprise of both Damien and I he reached out to shake hands. I didn’t think students did that with other students but his class was impressive. He was a little older than us, I would say at least 10th grade.

  “I’m Skyler Monroe, but most people call me Sky. This is my friend Damien.”

  Damien gave a shy wave.

  “So good to meet you!” Seth continued. “Well, Guardians of Light is a spiritual group. We are more like a family than anything. We are people who are in touch with our inner Light, our inner spirits, and our goal is to go around and spread this Light for others to follow. That is our goal and objective. We get together to talk about how we can lead rich, fulfilling lives and how we can inspire others and spread this message.”

  Seth pointed out other stuff on the board, including testimonials of members saying they “found their Light” and were able to find peace.

  “We get together and have a good time and just want to spread happiness and positivity. We are actually having an introductory meeting Tuesday evening at 8 at our house, which we call “The Manor.”

  “Wait, this house?” asked Damien peering at the pictures. “This awesome log cabin?”

  “Yep, that it is!”

  We both stared at the photo of the mini mansion built out of logs. It truly was one of the coolest looking houses I’ve ever seen, surrounded by a fence with—I couldn’t believe it—lanterns tied to the planks giving it a mysteriously beautiful glow. It looked like a Thomas Kincaid painting.

  “Wow,” was all I could say.

  “You should see it in person when it’s nighttime and all lit up,” Seth continued. “It is our home, all right.”

  “So if we join we get to live there?” asked Damien, which I admit excited me as well.

  “Well, not at first. What year are you guys?”

  “Seventh,” we both answered.

  “There is actually a wait list that we have reserved for
upperclassmen. Usually never for seventh or eighth graders because it gives you time to become more active. Once you are more active, you’ll be spending more time there being a part of everything. But people are over all the time anyway, and it does not matter that much. We are a family.”

  Seth took two notecards from a stack on the table next to the pens and bowl of mints. “This tells you where we are on the map as well as the time and date for the meeting, and phone number. We’re kind of hidden but not that hard to find, if you know where to look. We urge you to come and check us out.”

  “Thanks,” I said pocketing it.

  “It could be worth checking out,” Damien finally spoke up. “Just to see that house is real.”

  Chapter 4

  “No way! I did not! Nuh-uh!”

  I didn’t need to open the door all the way to know that Deanna was home and on the phone. Practically the whole floor knew when she was around, and if they didn’t, her laugh gave it away for sure. She gave a big appreciative one just as I turned the knob. She smiled and waved a finger in greeting as I tossed my backpack to my bed. It put a big dent in the blankets from the book weight.

  “Well whatever, we’ll just have to see about that!” Deanna continued to pace in front of her desk with a smirk growing on her face.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll totally beat you next time we play. It’s a deal! Okay, I guess I’ll see you later! Bye!”

  She hung up but continued talking.

  “God he is so cute.”

  I smiled as I checked my emails and helped myself to a piece of gum.

  “Is this the Chad guy you were playing basketball with?”

  “Yup, and he’s such a sore loser. But he’s adorable so that makes up for it.”

  Deanna sat down at her desk.

  “That’s awesome,” I said. “I knew he was into you.”

  “You doing anything for dinner?”