George rested his new cane against his leg and caught my eye. “A little bird told me that Mr. Morgan is making a big announcement,” he whispered a little too loudly.
Ann Blake reached forward and swatted him with her program. “Don’t ruin the surprise, George.”
I turned around to smile at her and Berry, and I saw the auditorium jam-packed with people—more than had come to Bob’s centuriat party the year before.
Val and I had just returned from my and Ned’s soul line collection in the depositary, where I had placed one of the opals, Ned’s Soul Identity card, and my rendering of the story Madame Flora had told. Val decided to keep the other opal as a souvenir of our adventure in Slovakia.
I grabbed her hand as Archie unfolded a small stack of papers, laid them on the podium, and adjusted his glasses. The auditorium went silent, and he cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
“On April 15, 1929, Matko and Anja Drabarni celebrated the birth of their only child, Flora,” he said. “This was in the Istrian peninsula of what was then Italy, and is now Croatia. In 1943, Flora and her grandmother Violca, one of our Soul Identity readers, went into hiding after the Nazis sent the rest of their family to a concentration camp. They scavenged in the woods until the war’s end, and in 1946 they came at our bidding to Nuremberg. After Flora and Violca helped us conclude a delicate mission, they moved to Sterling.”
Val leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Delicate mission?”
“The understatement of the year,” I whispered back.
Archie looked around the auditorium. “I see several of you who can remember working here with Flora. She stayed full-time until 1949, and then left to start her own business and become a recruiter for us.”
I looked behind me and saw a few older people nod their heads and smile.
Archie cleared his throat. “In 1947, Flora’s only child Jamie was born. Some of you may remember Jamie running around our office, and you may even know that Jamie was killed in Vietnam.”
More heads nodded. Archie pulled out a handkerchief, then took off and polished his glasses. He resettled them on his face and leaned forward on his elbows. “What you may not know,” he said gravely, “is that I am Jamie’s father.”
For a moment you could have heard a pin drop in the auditorium, but then the air filled with the buzzing of excited whispers.
Archie waited for a moment, his face beaming. Then he chuckled and said, “I was surprised to find out as well, but when Flora broke the news to me last week, I was pleased as punch to meet my new family.”
That triggered another round of whispering. He picked up and shuffled his papers. “If I had to pick a single word to describe Flora,” he said, “I would choose ‘passionate’. Throughout her life, she always knew what she wanted, she was filled with conviction that she was right, and she used her passion to push until she got it.”
Archie looked up, and two tears spilled out from under his glasses and ran down his cheeks. “Last month in Slovakia, Flora helped us fix a problem which, to what will be my everlasting shame, I should have prevented six decades ago,” he said. He dabbed the tears with his handkerchief. “At the end of the mission, Flora suffered a fatal accident. She was eighty years old. She is survived by her—I mean our—granddaughter Lily and our twin great-granddaughters Rose and Marie.”
Archie turned and faced a movie screen behind him. The lights darkened in the auditorium, and pictures from a slide show were projected. We saw photographs of a young Flora with her grandmother, then with Jamie. When a picture of her and the twins came up, George grunted and said, “I took that one in Venice last year. After she shot Andre Feret.”
The slide show ended with a picture of Madame Flora standing outside of her palm reading business on Kent Island. She looked exactly like the first time I met her: a stern expression, sparkly eyes, her jaw set in determination.
The image faded, the lights came on, and Archie turned back to face the audience. “When Flora was helping us in Nuremberg, she kept a diary in the form of a fairy tale.” He picked up a small stack of papers. “Here is our seventeen-year-old Flora in her own words.”
Archie used the translation Val and I had made to read from Flora’s short diary. He read the story of the young princess and her fairy godmother, and how her family was killed by evil wolves. He read about the brave knight and how the princess almost got him killed.
Archie’s voice cracked, and he stood silently for a moment. Then he read to us how the princess drugged the captain and learned of his love for her.
When Archie broke down in sobs, Rose and Marie came up to the podium and stood on either side of him. Rose took over and read how the princess seduced the wolf’s guard, then how the princess and the captain consummated their love for each other.
Marie read the final entry: how the princess planned to trick the captain and divert the treasure. She read about the princess’s dreams to live happily ever after in a castle with her captain.
When she finished, Archie gave each twin a hug and returned to the microphone. “Flora deposited this story in a soul line collection back in 1946,” he said. “Last month we helped our beautiful princess finish her quest. I have penned an addendum to her unfinished story.” He took out another piece of paper and read it to us.
And the beautiful princess succeeded: she tricked the captain and stole the magical teeth. She and her fairy godmother’s friend hid them far away in a distant land. The captain took the princess and her fairy godmother to a new castle in the land of the eagles.
But the beautiful princess was not happy. The magical teeth smoldered in their hiding place, and she could find no peace. She ached to tell the captain, but he spent his time with the other knights, choosing to become their general. When she bore their son, she hid him from the general.
Many years passed. The magical teeth remained hidden, and the beautiful princess and the captain-turned-general remained apart. And one day, when they both were old and gray, the general discovered the magical teeth were missing.
When confronted, the princess confessed to the general that she had tricked him. She led him to place where she hid the magical teeth, and she begged him to help her destroy them for once and for all. He agreed, and they declared their love for each other. Then, with the help of their friends and family, they recovered the magical teeth.
But the teeth were cursed, and a lesser wolf appeared and attacked the beautiful princess. She fought hard, but as she killed the wolf and destroyed the teeth, she suffered her own mortal blow.
Archie paused again and wiped his eyes. Rose and Marie put their arms around his shoulders. He murmured something to them, and then he read us the rest of his story.
The general mourned the loss of his beautiful princess. He promised their family that he, and indeed all the knights, would remember her sacrifice and fight to defeat all future wolves. And he waited for the day when he and the beautiful princess would finally be reunited.
The audience remained silent as Archie folded the papers and put them in his pocket. He grabbed the microphone with both hands.
“Flora spent her life on a quest against injustice,” he said. “I have decided to continue her battle by personally funding and helping to direct her foundation for the Roma people. This morning I notified my good friend and fellow overseer Mr. Berringer that I would be resigning my position as the executive overseer of Soul Identity, effective in six months.”
A gasp from the crowd, and Archie reached out and grabbed the twins’ hands. “I also have a lot of catching up to do with my family,” he said with a grin.
Val started to clap, and we all joined in a prolonged applause. George struggled to his feet, and the rest of us jumped up to give the overseer a standing ovation.
At the end of the service, as we were exiting, Val grabbed my arm. “He did the right thing,” she said.
I smiled and replied, “And, finally, for all the right reasons.”
Acknowledgements
/>
Reviewing what seems like countless drafts is hard work, and I’d like to thank the many people who helped me through this: Shameless authors Bill Flynn, Mike Monahan, Don Fowler, Ellen George, Keith Knapp, and Lila Pinord; co-workers and friends Ken Ray, Angie Williams, Jason Chen, Mat Dickson, Alan Packer, Bob Kennedy, Jamie Dexter, Brian Thomas, Rodney Abelev, Amnon Horowitz, and Efim Hudis; and family members Mom, Dad, Kristin, Alison, and Holly. Your comments, questions, edits, and suggestions were exactly the motivation and help I needed.
Fred Brisard and Brad Wright helped me use proper diving terminology. David Hansen gave me a first-hand account of dealing with panic attacks. Any mistakes I made in relaying this information are mine alone.
Christian Nielsen and Nipoon Malhatra made generous bids at two charity auctions, and they each received the right to name a Soul Intent character and embed a cherished personality trait. Christian and Nipoon: I hope Justin Nielsen and Mukesh Rana Malhatra met your expectations—they certainly brought depth to their scenes.
Lastly, a great big thank you to my wife Irina for giving me the most precious gifts of all: time, understanding, and unending support and encouragement. I love you with all my heart, darling!
Soul Intent Page 28