Soul Insurance

by Glenn Bullion

Her slim belly felt two times larger when she finished her last fry. She felt like a pig in front of Connor, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed oddly relaxed near her. This was the same guy who was visibly uncomfortable around her the last time she saw him. He couldn't look her in the eye, kept his distance, and told her that ridiculous story about hearing souls and her past life as a murderer.

  "So," she said, breaking the silence. "You want to fill me in on what's going on?"

  "I've been trying. I can't figure out where to start."

  "Well, the last thing I remember, before waking up in this tight little package," she said, gesturing to her body. "Is falling from my apartment."

  Connor clasped his hands together and took a long drink. "Okay, let's give this a shot."

  He proceeded to tell Brooke the most unbelievable story she'd ever heard. Parts of it had to be true. She couldn't argue the fact that she woke up in a new body, so she must have died. She also saw the makeshift soul resurrection site with her own eyes.

  But there were other parts in his story that she simply couldn't believe.

  "You're telling me my best friend Amber is selling bodies from our work for some kind of black market soul insurance thing. And you know all this because you can hear souls, we've been talking for the past month, and tonight you brought me back to life with one of their bodies? This body, a stolen one?"

  He shrugged. "That about sums it up, I guess."

  She remembered Connor making a show outside his apartment, with two souls following him. He had a very convincing act, and for a moment, while she watched him, thought it was possible.

  "Connor, I'm sorry, it's just that…I work with souls. They come in the office almost every single day. We can't hear them."

  "Your favorite color is pink. That's why I got you that underwear. And you told me your jeans size."

  "What? When I was a soul?" She laughed. "I'm sorry, but pink being a lady's favorite color? Not much of a stretch. And the jeans didn't fit. I think this new body is shorter, although the legs are nice."

  Connor rolled his eyes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  "Your name is Brooke Martin. You can't stand your dad. Your mom moved away when you were little, after you lost your sister. You and Amber have been tight since school, but you're always a little jealous of her, although I have no idea why. You like your job at Soul-Ful, and the night you died you were arguing with yourself on whether you should accept a promotion your boss offered, but you would have said yes. You like to sit in the back row in a movie theater. You can't get enough of horror movies, which I love, and you're not too crazy about baseball, but you've been coming around on that lately. The one thing you wish you could do is find your mom and talk to her one more time."

  Brooke's mouth hung open. He was right about everything. Her desire to see her mother was something she hadn't even shared with Amber. She never told anyone, not even any of her ex-boyfriends.

  But apparently she'd told Connor.

  "When I was a soul…we became friends?"

  Pain flashed across his face, and he looked away to hide it, but Brooke noticed.

  "That story I told you about my parents, and how Mike Burns killed them, that wasn't a lie. He had your soul, and that made it hard to talk to you at first. But yeah, we became good friends."

  She held her head in her hands. "God, this is just too much."

  Connor slid closer and put a hand on her shoulder, but said nothing. She appreciated the gesture and put her hand on his own. His story seemed so unreal, but it certainly made sense from what she knew. He wouldn't even know how to do a soul resurrection. Someone must have been guiding him, and it was her.

  "I want to see Amber." She gave him a sheepish look. "Could I borrow your car?"

  He frowned. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You were pretty pissed at her yesterday."

  "I don't remember yesterday. I just want to talk with her."

  "It's almost midnight."

  "She'll be up."

  "Oh believe me, I know." He rose to his feet. "If you really want to. I'll drive."

  "Connor, I can't ask you to be my taxi."

  "Actually, I heard on TV once that it's illegal for someone brought back through soul insurance to drive for three days."

  "I know that."

  The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "So, you're trying to break the law?"

  She laughed, which brought a smile to his face. He was completely at ease with her, nothing like when they first met. Brooke thought she could get used to it.

  CHAPTER 15

  Brooke and Connor didn't talk much on the way to Amber's mother's house. Some questions nagged at Brooke during the drive. If her apartment building completely burned, like Connor said, and Amber was living with her mother, where was Brooke going to live? There was no way she would call her father. She'd sleep on a park bench before she'd take that step.

  Connor parked across from Amber's mother's house, but didn't make a move to get out of the car. Brooke looked at him as she grabbed the door handle.

  "You're not coming with me?"

  "Amber's mom isn't my biggest fan right now. I think I'll wait here."

  "What happened? Wait, I don't think I want to know. You said Amber's staying in the basement, in her old room? There's a back door we can use, goes right to the basement."

  Connor sighed, but killed the engine and opened his door. Brooke smiled. She still couldn't draw a bead on him. Despite him claiming to be able to hear souls since he was a child, he seemed well-adjusted. She liked his company. A sudden guilt hit her as they walked around the side of the house. The thought of any part of her having something to do with his parents' murder nearly brought a tear to her eye.

  She shoved everything aside as she knocked on Amber's door. Connor stood at her side. Amber answered the door, wearing her pajamas. The TV on the dresser showed the evening news behind her.

  Looking at Amber was the first real sign for Brooke that any time had passed since her death. Amber was a different person. Dark circles under her eyes, a look of sadness on her face. She wasn't the same person that, from Brooke's perspective, left Brooke at the apartment just a few hours ago to see her new boyfriend.

  "Connor?" Amber asked. "What are you doing here?"

  "Hi, Amber," he said, waving.

  "Who's this? Is this who you've been keeping secret? Look, you're cute, and so is she, but I'm not that kind of girl—"

  "Is it true?" Brooke asked.

  Amber blinked in surprise, focusing her attention on Brooke. "Do we know each other?"

  "Have you really been a part of stealing bodies from our work? Is that why I died?"

  Amber's eyes lit up. "Brooke? Is that you?" She glared at Connor. "What have you told her?"

  "Don't worry about him. Answer me."

  She eyed Brooke up and down, taking in her new body. Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out.

  "It's true," Brooke said. "All those late nights with your guy friends, you were really at Soul-Ful."

  "Brooke, listen, I can explain."

  The pained look on Amber's face appeared to be genuine, but it only enraged Brooke more. She shoved Amber hard by the shoulders, sending her best friend tumbling back and falling near her bed. She actually leaned down and brought her right fist back, ready to attack Amber, something she'd never done. Connor stopped her by grabbing her around her waist.

  "You're always on me about talking to guys, being boring, not doing anything crazy. That whole time, you're robbing our work, and it got me killed!"

  "Brooke, I'm so sorry," she said, covering herself against the attack that never came. "Please—"

  "You should have seen me when our apartment was burning around me, Amber. I fell out of the window and broke my neck. Is that wild and crazy enough for you?"

  "Listen—"

  "Shut up," Brooke said. Her stuffed bear and glasses were sitting next to Amber's bed. She tried to wrestle from Connor's gr
ip, and he reluctantly let go. She collected them both, holding the bear to her chest.

  "I saved them," Amber said. "If I could only go back—"

  "There is no going back," Brooke said coldly. "These are mine. You don't get to keep them."

  She turned and left. Amber didn't follow. Anger and sadness collided as she crossed the street, heading for Connor's car. Anger won out, and it was all she could do not to turn around and confront Amber again, maybe punch her in the face. She could hear Connor trotting to keep up with her, wisely keeping his distance.

  They drove in silence for several minutes. Connor scanned stations on the radio, but couldn't find anything to his liking. Brooke clutched the stuffed bear and her glasses, not wanting to let either one of them go.

  "Well," Connor said as they stopped at a red light. "That probably could have gone better."

  Brooke wanted to laugh, but she simply didn't have it in her. The anger and sadness continued to fight within her, with the sadness finally gaining the upper hand.

  "Pull over."

  "Huh? Is everything okay?"

  "Please, just…pull over."

  Connor parked on the side of the street. It normally would have been crowded with people, but it was close to midnight. Only the occasional car drove past. A few souls traveled the sky overhead, but they weren't close.

  Brooke left the car and bent over on the sidewalk. She dry-heaved several times, but nothing came up. Connor tried to approach her, but she held up a hand, silently asking him to stay back.

  "Brooke? What's wrong?"

  She rose to her feet and tried to fight the tears. "What's wrong? I have nothing. I don't have a place to live. I don't have a job. I thought I had a best friend, but now I have to wonder. I'm legally dead. The only thing I have is my glasses and Captain Bear."

  "Captain Bear?"

  "Don't mess with me right now, Connor."

  He held up his hands. "No messing here." He looked around slowly, even turning in place, before smiling.

  Brooke stared at him in disbelief and put her hands on her hips. "Is something funny?"

  "Actually, yeah. On your first night as a soul, you complained to me about how much life sucks. We actually sat on that very bench, right over there. Now here we are, on your first night in that gorgeous body, talking about how much your life sucks."

  She clenched her eyes shut. "Connor—"

  "Sorry. It's just…you know, kind of funny."

  She laughed, even though she didn't want to. She wanted to be miserable, but Connor wouldn't let her.

  "Ah, a laugh."

  "I hate this new laugh. It doesn't sound like me."

  He smiled and took a step forward. For a moment Brooke thought he was leaning in for a kiss, but he kept his distance.

  "Trust me, it's you. You're wrong on one thing. I know it's not much, but you do have me. You can stay with me as long as you want."

  She frowned. "I know you say we're friends, that we've gotten to know each other over the past month. And I believe you, but I just couldn't ask for that. I'm not gonna freeload at your apartment."

  "I guess it's a good thing it's not up for discussion. You take the couch."

  "You're not gonna try to have sex with me, are you? Break in this new body?"

  Connor laughed and shook his head. "Wasn't planning on it, no. And as for the whole legally dead thing, part of your whole plan was to go to your boss. You said he'd be able to help, get the guys behind the black market soul insurance put in jail. Maybe he can help with getting you alive again."

  "That's actually not a bad plan."

  "I'd hope so. You thought of it."

  Brooke took a deep breath, and hugged Connor without giving him warning. She didn't think he'd hug her back, and was pleasantly surprised when he wrapped his arms around her. Her new body was shorter than her old one, but she managed to place her head on his shoulder.

  "Thank you."

  His face was glowing when he backed away. She wondered if he had any idea how cute he was.

  "You're welcome. We'd better get moving. Let's get you and Captain Bear back to the apartment."

  "Very funny."

  Brooke finally felt better as Connor drove back to the apartment. Her emotions were still battling, but the occasional positive thought crossed her mind. She was alive. She hated to dwell on looks, but it was hard not to like her new body. She had confidence that Wesley could help reclaim her life. Best of all, she'd made a new friend, for the second time.

  "I know you might not be ready to hear this," Connor said. "But you're gonna have to talk to Amber eventually. I mean really talk to her."

  "She got me killed."

  "I know, and believe me, she's been falling apart for the past month."

  "Whatever. She wanted to play slip and slide with you when you opened the door."

  He glanced at her. "Slip and slide?" he said, stifling a laugh and shaking his head. "Look, take it from me, I didn't have many friends growing up. You two seemed pretty close before you died. You two have to make up somehow. She needs you."

  "The only thing she ever needed from me was company at the clubs, so she wasn't alone."

  "You're selling yourself short, as always."

  Brooke was quiet as he parked outside his apartment. She reflected on his words. Could she forgive Amber? Could they ever be friends again?

  She searched through a phone book on the couch while Connor prepared for bed. He'd brushed his teeth and was in the kitchen making lunch for work when Brooke found Wesley's home phone number. She sighed as she stared at Connor's phone.

  "Is everything okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah. This is just going to be a weird conversation."

  He smiled. "You should hear some of the phone calls I've been making lately."

  Wesley answered, exhaustion in his voice.

  "Hello?"

  "Wesley, I'm sorry I'm calling so late."

  "Who the hell is this?" He paused. "Who the hell is Connor Leland?"

  "He's a friend of mine. I'm calling from his place. Listen, Wesley, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but it's Brooke. From Soul-Ful."

  Silence followed, and Brooke was reminded of how different her voice was.

  "Is this some kind of joke? Some sick, disgusting joke?"

  "No. It's really me. I can tell you anything you want to know. I've worked for you right out of high school. You wanted me to bring my dad to one of the Christmas parties, but he refused to go, and called you an asshole. You wanted me to work in sales before I died."

  "Brooke? Please tell me you didn't get soul insurance through another company," he said, disappointment in his voice.

  "No. Let's just say Isabel's body, the one that was missing, it didn't just magically disappear. Hell, the body I'm in right now…There's a warehouse over near Ninth Street, but I don't want to go into it too much on the phone."

  "Okay. Well, what do you want to do? Meet at the police station?"

  "Not yet. Can me and you just meet up?"

  "Of course. Come to the office first thing in the morning. Don't tell anyone who you are, just to keep people from jumping up and down, like I'm doing."

  Brooke laughed. "Thank you, Wesley."

  "Certainly. It sounds like you've got a very interesting story to share."

  She hung up and leaned back on the couch. It felt like a weight had lifted from her shoulders.

  Connor leaned against the counter in the kitchen, watching her. "I can come with you, if you want."

  She shook her head. "You've done more than enough for me." She gestured to her cut-off jeans and shirt. "I still owe you for the clothes. But maybe I can bug you for a ride?" she said, putting on a cute face. She had no idea how her new cute face looked.

  It must have passed the test, as Connor laughed. "Sure. I'll drop you off on my way to work. Are you gonna leave the part out about the freak that can hear souls?"

  "You're not a freak. To be honest, I have no idea what I'm gonna say."


  "Well, this might help."

  He went to the corner and pulled a camera out of his backpack. She took it from him after he fiddled with it a moment.

  There were pictures of the warehouse. Brooke's breath caught in her chest as she saw a body, her new body, lying on the gurney. There were other random pictures of the cryo-tubes, the cabling on the floor, the computer system. In several shots was a soul.

  "Is this me?"

  "That's you. I guess it's impossible for you to take a bad picture."

  She giggled, and kept scrolling through Connor's photos. There were pictures of a baseball game, the action on the field, and plenty of pictures of Connor with a soul. They sat in the stands, posed near a statue, there was even a playful shot of Connor with his arm around the soul.

  "What's this?"

  He leaned over to peek, and his face went white with shock. He grabbed the camera from her and turned it off. "That's…you know, me and you. At the baseball game."

  Brooke went to say something, but decided it was more fun to watch him squirm. He was adorable.

  "You said you'd never been, so we went. You had fun. I mean…I know you can't tell from the pictures, but you had fun. And it's not like anything happened. It was just a ballgame. You should have seen the weird looks we got trying to get people to take our picture. And it's time for bed."

  He rose and walked to the hall closet. He gathered a spare blanket and pillow, and handed them over without a word. After disappearing into his bedroom, he came back out with a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt.

  "I'm sure these won't fit, but something to sleep in," he said. "There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet, never been opened. Come get me if you need anything."

  "Connor."

  He turned to face her. "Yeah?"

  She wanted to thank him, but felt silly thanking him repeatedly. Her mouth opened and closed as she fumbled for words, and went far beyond silly.

  He merely smiled. "You're welcome."

  Brooke could see why her soul got attached to him.

  *****

  Connor woke up in a cold sweat. The nightmare wasn't as bad as usual, but it was still enough to make him search the corners of his room for Mike Burns. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, afraid to look at the alarm clock. It felt like he'd only slept an hour.