Kyle focused his thoughts. He could see the red aura, little more than a thin line, leading into the home. It was one of his powers, a Death Sense. He looked at the intensity, remembering what Harmony had taught him.
“Maybe an hour?” Kyle didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.
“Not bad,” Harmony replied. “More like thirty minutes, but close enough.”
“What the hell am I gonna do for the thirty minutes it takes him to die?”
In answer, Harmony rang the bell and started to jog off. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Hey!” Kyle said in a harsh whisper. “Hey! What the hell?”
He turned back to look at the door. A part of him thought he heard a dog barking. If the man had a dog, it didn’t bark again. Kyle didn’t know how long it took anyone to answer the door, but he found enough time to think of a million questions. How would the man die? How would he hide his presence from police? Apparently, Journeymen couldn’t hide their presence or turn invisible. What if the soul wouldn’t come out? Could a soul get stuck? What if it wouldn’t Transport when he got it? What if he couldn’t find the person it was meant to pass to? Why the hell didn’t I ask Harmony any of these damn questions?
Kyle nearly turned to run after Harmony when an elderly man opened the door. The man was bald, with bright-blue eyes that made him look younger than Kyle thought he actually was.
“Hello,” Kyle said, forgetting everything he was supposed to say. Harmony had worked out something about the man’s pool or some such, but Kyle was damned if he could remember a word of it.
“Who are you?” the man asked. He looked disappointed.
“My name is Kyle, sir. I’m here to—”
“Am I already dead?” the man asked.
Kyle looked at his feet to see if his jaw had landed near that area. He stammered for a few moments but couldn’t find any words.
“Do you know Bob?” the man asked.
Kyle’s jaw wagged a few more times, but nothing came out. The author of The Journals?
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Kyle said.
“Son, if you want in my home, you can cut the crap. Do you know Bob? I thought he’d be here for this.”
“I really don’t know a lot of people, but if it’s who I think you mean ... ” Kyle stalled, trying to find the right words. Apparently, this Bob everyone seemed to want to talk about had died. He was one of only three Journeymen to die in the last seven hundred years. Another was Harmony’s mentor, a Senior Journeyman everyone called Drisc. Whoever this man was couldn’t possibly know Bob, could he? If the man did, Kyle wondered if he should say anything about Bob’s death. Harmony said that sort of conversation was taboo. “I don’t know where he is.” It was the most honest, yet tactful, thing Kyle could think to say.
“You look ready to shit yourself,” the man said. It wasn’t a scornful phrase. Kyle felt like a wet puppy the man had just caught in the living room.
“Do I?” Kyle chuckled. Maybe if I just run away, I can come back when ... when I don’t have to deal with him. He felt bad for the thought. Harmony told him he needed to know the living, not just Transport souls.
“Yeah,” the man replied. He held out a large, calloused hand. “Nick Taylor.”
“Kyle.” The word came out an instant before he realized he’d already introduced himself. He held out a hand and shook Nick’s.
“Come on in, then,” said Nick. He opened his door wider and smiled. “Would’ve been rude to just up and Take me without saying hello.”
“I agree completely,” Kyle said. Is he making a joke?
It was a pleasant-looking home, in Kyle’s opinion. Each table or flat surface had a photo of some sort. Kyle looked at a few. One image caught his eye. It portrayed a boy with Nick’s same bright-blue eyes and a mop of thin, black hair. He was playing a guitar on a stage. It felt strangely familiar to Kyle, like a song he’d heard on the radio but couldn’t remember.
“That’s my grandson,” Nick said. He sounded as proud as a new father. “He just graduated from ASU a few days ago.”
“Did he get his degree in music?” Kyle asked, still looking at the photo.
“Close, sound technology.”
Kyle looked at the entertainment center in the small living area. He smiled. On top of the TV sat a well-kept glass case with a dog collar inside. The name Drew was inscribed on the small, bronze ornament that hung on the collar.
“Where are his parents?” Kyle asked. A small part of him wondered what he’d do if two people just wandered in while Kyle was taking Nick’s soul. How can anyone do this?
“Cheryl and Mike are with him. They won’t interrupt.”
“OK, just what the hell is going on? Did Harmony put you up to this?
Nick laughed. He laughed! It wasn’t a cruel laugh or anything like that, but still. Kyle was a Journeyman, a real, live, modern-day Grim Reaper. Didn’t that call for the slightest bit of awe?
“I met one of you nearly a decade ago,” Nick said. “It took me a while, but I figured Bob out. He helped my son in that picture there.”
Kyle looked back at the picture and then looked back at Nick. Helped? We can do that?
“Anyway,” Nick continued. “He eventually told me a few things about you guys. I thought he was here for me, but as it turned out, I had a little extra time. I’m ready now.”
Nick stood up from his chair and walked back to the master bedroom. He gave Kyle a solid pat on the shoulder. He grunted, put himself in his large bed, and wrapped himself under the covers.
“I am ready, you know,” Nick said again.
“I’m glad,” Kyle replied. He felt odd, like he should say something more comforting.
“But ... but what if I ran?” Nick asked.
Kyle noticed Nick’s eyes look around. Maybe Nick thought an army of creatures would tackle him or something.
“Why would you run from death? Did you run from life?” Kyle asked, truly curious.
“No, I’m ready. I ... I just wonder,” Nick responded.
“It has happened, but it is rare. Have you ever seen anyone live longer than they should?” Kyle asked. He’d have to apologize to Harmony. Thankfully enough, that question was one of the few Kyle had asked during his training.
“What do you mean? Bob said death comes whether or not you do.”
“Yes, but sometimes people do run. Death is no entity, but every now and again, a doctor finds a way to extend a person’s life. I don’t blame them, but they don’t understand that the pain endures. When one is kept on this world past his time, the mark he leaves loses its power. When a person exists but does not live, the torture he endures becomes the memory. The part of him that should remain is overpowered by the sorrow of seeing the one they love in pain.” That was the company answer. The short version was that, that was one way a Blacksoul was born. Kyle had no intention of ever seeing one of those.
“Is there a heaven?” Nick asked.
“Don’t know,” Kyle said simply.
He noticed Nick’s eyes widen, and he spoke before the dying man could respond. “My job is to help people remain comfortable when death approaches and help their souls reach whatever destination lies beyond this life.”
“Yeah? Well, how long have you been doing this?” Nick asked.
Kyle felt his face heat up. “About a day.” He felt miserable.
“What? One freaking day? I’m gonna die, and some rookie is supposed to help my soul get to the other side?”
“I’m sure it’s not that hard.”
“Not that hard, he says!”
“Hey, it’s your first time dying!”
Nick stared at Kyle. It lasted so long that Kyle felt his muscles tensing; he was ready to run or dodge some random blunt object that sat on Nick’s headboard. Suddenly, Nick started laughing. It sounded as natural as the wind to Kyle. Kyle imagined that if he’d known Nick, he’d expect the old man to laugh as often as possible.
“I guess y
ou have a point there,” Nick said. As he said it, Kyle noticed the man’s Death Sense turn a deep amber. “Is it really time now?” There were no tears in his eyes. He just offered a kind smile.
“Yes, Nick.”
“You make sure my grandson gets the bit that’s supposed to stay,” Nick ordered. Kyle resisted the urge to salute and respond with, Sir, yes, sir!
“I’ll make sure,” said Kyle. That song, more a melody, teased Kyle’s thoughts again. It got harder to remember the more Kyle focused on the melody.
“He’ll be around a while, won’t he?” Nick asked. This time, he looked truly frightened. “Bob promised.”
“I really doubt any of us ever made such a promise.”
“Well, he didn’t come out and say it, but I know he wanted to do what he could. So why not do what you can and say he’ll be here a while?”
“I can’t,” Kyle answered. “I just don’t know.”
“Will it hurt?”
“No, I make sure it won’t,” Kyle replied. He had Taken Nick’s pain when he’d entered the home.
Nick smiled, and with a final breath, Nick’s soul poured into the Journeyman. Kyle accepted the man’s soul and smiled.
Kyle took the time to clean up. One of the reasons Harmony refused to be called a “reaper” or “grim” was that the term implied some sort of mysticism. Somehow, people like him and Harmony had to Transport souls and remove any evidence of his presence. It seemed to Kyle that the least that could happen would be for things to magically revert to the way they were before he showed up.
But Kyle decided to take advantage of the less-mythic aspects of his job. He took off Nick’s shoes and tucked him in. He made sure the house looked nice. Then Kyle went to the entertainment center.
“He’s coming home.” The words escaped Kyle before he knew he said them. They felt right to Kyle in some way. He wasn’t sure if it was a genuine sense or just a fool’s hope, but Kyle was sure the dog was waiting for his master. A crack in the glass seemed to verify Kyle’s theory. The crack wasn’t a fault in the glass but a glowing pulse. Harmony called them Transport Points. They were easiest to open through objects of importance to the deceased. Kyle hardly even had to focus for the portal to open near the dog’s collar.
Kyle touched his hand to the case. He felt Nick’s soul Transport inside. It swirled for a few moments before it settled into the center of the old collar. I think I like the idea of the entrance to heaven being through the past possessions of loved ones.
Kyle picked up the display. It was just an old case now. Reverently, he carried the case and placed it under Nick’s hand. All that was left for Kyle was to Pass On the last part of Nick the world could hold on to. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe the kid will know everything and just ask for the soul. A part of Kyle doubted that would be the case.
21
Something Always Remains
May 21, 2012
Harmony didn’t seem too mad about Nick. Turns out, she knew as much. Drisc wanted her to make it a point to take care of Mr. Taylor. She seemed sad, talking about him. So sad I kind of wish I knew him. Someone dies about every five seconds in this world. The only thing that is more plentiful than death in this world is, in fact, life. I suppose asking a Journeyman how long a person has is like asking a traffic cop how long the traffic light will last. We tend to just look for the red ones.
It frustrates me at times to think that the living know more about death than any Journeyman does. I only have my own ignorance to blame for it. I think I’ll try to learn more about Journeymen in the future. Harmony’s a great teacher. I know what to do. I’m just not sure, I don’t know, how it all works. I’m a part of the process, and I’d like to know more about the rest of the process.
I asked a few questions. Harmony didn’t seem bothered by them, but she told me herself that there wasn’t a lot of information on the grand scheme, so I stopped asking. Maybe when I’m a Senior Journeyman, I’ll read those journals and see what all the fuss was about. One thing Harmony said was that we’re encouraged to help the dying. Help them die knowing they’d lived. I think I like that idea.
Nick’s funeral is today, and I have the honor to Pass On the last part of his soul. Something tells me I’ll remember this no matter how long I live.
“Stop fidgeting,” Harmony demanded as she pulled on the knot of Kyle’s tie.
“I’m not fidgeting,” he replied. He wasn’t. He was staring at her eyes again. Stop that! he ordered himself. It was hard not to. She’d looked like an angel when he first saw her kneeling over him, and nothing in the last four days had done anything to convince him she wasn’t.
He’d done his best to remain professional, but he continued to stare at her eyes, her hair, the curve of her lips, her ... I said stop that!
“Are you gonna hold still?” she asked. Something in the set of her jaw told him she was about to laugh. That was the oddest thing. He always seemed to know what she felt, how to make her laugh, or when she just wanted someone to listen to her. He couldn’t understand it, but he knew her. He knew her as well as anyone. She just teased him.
She finished messing with his tie. “That’s better. Now, do you think you can do this without telling every secret we’re supposed to keep?” She gave him that same half smile.
“He knew; I didn’t tell him anything,” Kyle muttered. “I’d like to see how you react when someone actually expects you to come take his soul.”
“Are you mumbling?” she asked. “Because that would be very childish.”
“I’m not mumbling,” he mumbled.
She gave a soft chuckle. They were at a small funeral home in Sun City. The funeral for Nick Taylor was a brief, respectful ceremony. A group of soldiers from the Reserve Center rendered military honors for years past. Just before the ceremony began, Kyle learned Nick was a veteran.
Kyle stood with Harmony in the back of the small room. A young man Kyle immediately recognized as David stepped in front of the rows of people seated on metal folding chairs. David was eloquent in a strange, direct way. He managed his emotions well and gave a very nice eulogy. Kyle found himself wishing he’d known Nick Taylor better. After the ceremony, Kyle decided to make his presence known.
Kyle approached with a line of mourners. He reached out and shook David’s hand, Passing Nick’s soul on to David.
“How did you know my grandfather?” David asked. He was such a contrast to the boy Kyle had seen in the photos. His hair was combed. He wore a suit that fit. He was such a fine-looking man.
“We had a mutual friend,” Kyle said with a smile. “I only came to pay my respects. I should leave you with your family.”
Indeed, there was quite a crowd. Old, young, family, and friends had come to pay respect to a man Kyle was at least lucky enough to have met. It was strange to see that Nick had influenced so many lives, including the life of the most legendary Journeyman in recorded history.
A young woman, a small slip of a girl with black hair, slipped an arm around David’s. “This is my fiancee, Karen,” David said. He looked as if he were announcing some great discovery.
“Nick mentioned you were engaged to a high school sweetheart,” Kyle said. They looked good together. Kyle found his eyes floating to find Harmony. She wore a slim, black dress. She smiled at him for some reason and waggled a few fingers at him.
“Is that your wife?” David asked.
“What? No!” Kyle barked, more quickly than he’d have liked. “I mean, well, we work together.”
Karen giggled. “He’s more nervous than you were when we first started talking,” she told David.
“How did you meet?” Kyle asked, thankful for any change in subject.
“He could hardly say five words to me,” Karen said. She gave David a soft kiss on the cheek.
“A substitute teacher of mine, best teacher I ever had, taught me a few things about confidence, taking risks, taking advantage of opportunity.” David said the last few words in some sort of imitation th
at sounded oddly familiar to Kyle. “So I started playing music; Karen and I were in a band through our senior year.”
Kyle laughed. “Chicks who play bass are hot.” The second the words were out of his mouth, Kyle looked for the nearest hole to jump in. He stammered for a bit, looking for a way to apologize.
A moment later, Karen blushed and hid a laugh behind a slender hand. David’s gaze made Kyle feel uncomfortable. “Do I ... know you?”
Kyle stared at the young man. “Um ... I don’t think so.”
“It’s just ... ” David said. “I said that to someone once, a long time ago.”
“Still true then, right?” Kyle said, hoping to find a fire exit, a portal to another dimension, an alien spaceship, whatever was handy.
Karen blushed again. “He still says so.” She wrapped her arms around David’s neck and gave him another soft kiss.
“That it is,” David said. He wrapped an arm around Karen.
“I’m glad to see things look to be going well for you,” Kyle said.
They all stood somberly for a moment. Kyle was sure they were all thinking the same thing. They were thinking about a kind old man who had been laid to rest less than an hour ago. “I really must go,” Kyle said.
“Really?” David asked. He seemed surprised by the question. “I just don’t know you very well, and we haven’t had a chance to talk about my granddad much. Maybe I could see you again soon?” David asked.
“I don’t imagine so,” Kyle said. He smiled and gave the boy a nod. Then he turned and tried his best not to run after Harmony.
He couldn’t find her in the funeral home, so he made his way outside. He felt a surge of relief when he caught site of her under a large pine tree in the yard.
“You did well,” she said.
“I almost screwed it up,” he replied.
“I heard,” she said. “I was coming up to make some excuse to get you out of there. Then I found myself a little jealous. Maybe I should learn to play bass.”
Kyle felt his cheeks burn, and his ears felt ready to burst into flame. “I can’t believe I said that. It just came out. I swear!” Kyle stopped for a few seconds, processing what Harmony had said. “Um ... je ... you said jealous, right?”
Something Always Remains: Part Three of The Journals of Bob Drifter Page 12