The Soul Seekers

by Amy Saia

  “I’ve spent my entire life trying to not understand them, Emma,” Jesse explained, while changing strings on a mint green Fender electric. “But I’ll do my best to help you with this crazy plan of yours.”

  “I’m still pretty clueless myself right now. Although . . .” I remembered William telling me about the Indian man in Springvale. “Hey, can we go for a drive? I have an idea.”

  “Want to tell me what it is?”

  “I can’t really. You’ll just have to trust me.” I saw Jesse flinch, and I laughed. “Come on.”

  We drove through Springvale, making it to the lake area on the west side—a little too close to the Seeker’s cave for my taste—when I finally spotted a lawn full of garden statues and tall totem poles around a colorfully painted, ranch style house. He even had gnomes on his roof, which made me laugh with delight. “Bingo,” I muttered, undoing my seat belt and giving Jesse a grin.

  “And how is this guy going to help us again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I ran up the front path to his door and knocked. I heard heavy footsteps inside, someone fumbling with a latch.

  “Yes?” a man asked in a deep baritone. The door opened, revealing possibly the tallest human I had ever seen. His hair was long and dark, with high cheekbones reaching out under coal-colored, crescent eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry. I was wondering. Well, I have this friend who said you could help with spiritual matters. I have psychic abilities, but I need help making them stronger. Can you help me—us—I mean?” I turned to Jesse, pushing him forward a little.

  “I don’t have any abilities,” Jesse muttered.

  The man leaned forward, looking out into the yard, before inviting us in. “Who is this friend you talk about?”

  “You don’t know him, not really. He said he’d visited you but you weren’t able to see him. Does that make sense? His name is William.”

  “I don’t know that name, but there was somebody who used to sit in my room every night. I could feel him watching me as I said my prayers to the Great Spirit. You say his name is William?”

  I nodded, holding back a lump in my throat.

  “He has great soul, very strong. But he not come around for a long time. What trouble is this man in?”

  Jesse and I were following behind as he talked, moving past a front room filled with landscape paintings, and into a kitchen where a meal sat, half-eaten. The man plopped down into a carved chair and resumed his late-night snack, which we had apparently interrupted.

  “Grave danger. Death. We have to know how to protect ourselves from a group of men that want to take his soul.”

  “And hers,” Jesse pointed out. “They want hers, too.”

  The man thought for a long time, eating all the while. He seemed like a shy person, slow to speak, but intense. He reminded me of Grandmother Carrie.

  “I can show you some ways to protect yourself from the evil spirits. There are prayers you can say, herbs you can carry. But you,” he looked at me with those dark, full eyes, “have to be strong for yourself and believe. No being afraid or it won’t work.”

  I nodded. When he finished his food, he took the plate and washed it in the sink, slow and deliberate. Jesse and I remained quiet, occasionally giving each other expectant glances. Just when we thought he had forgotten we were there, he said, “Follow me.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked, chasing his figure as he moved through the kitchen in long strides.

  “Paul.”

  “I’m Emma, and this is Jesse.”

  He answered with a grunt, leading us out the back door to a luscious, full garden decorated with more statues. We walked over to a half-circle herb garden and watched as he cut off some stalks of sage with a pocket knife. “For protection,” he said.

  Back at the house, he grabbed little sachets and stuffed the sage leaves in with his thick fingers. He poured a few drops of some kind of oil over the leaves and tied the bags closed.

  “Wear these around your neck.” Jesse and I reached out as he handed us the bags. They smelled sweet and slightly musky. “Now I say prayer. You can sit down.”

  We both fell into the couch at the same time, me landing on Jesse’s lap. He slipped his arms around my waist, but I pushed away and moved over to the next cushion, giving him a warning look. He gave me a wicked smile and slight chuckle.

  “You must always surround yourself with white light,” Paul explained, waving his big hands around in the air. “This will guard you against bad spirits. Do not think of bad things, only good. Call on the light to surround you and protect you. Keep your mind strong.”

  He began a long prayer for us, singing from the bridge of his nose and shifting to the deep resonance of his chest. He sang for a long time, and Jesse and I both watched in reverent silence. When he finished, the whole house seemed to swim with purity. My soul felt light and clean.

  “Thank you,” I sputtered out, in awe.

  “Wait,” he said, reaching to the fireplace mantle and pulling out a wad of sticks and leaves that were tied up with multicolor crisscross strings. Lighting a match, the bundle flamed and then glowed, oozing a thick smoke that wafted around all of us in the room. It had a weird smell, and I caught Jesse wrinkling his nose. I had to laugh at that, ruining my perfect record of being serious the whole time.

  Paul held out his hand to us. “I pray for you, that you will be safe. And our friend, too.” He looked me deep in the eyes.

  I nodded. “Thank you again.”

  “One more thing,” Paul grabbed a notepad from a shelf and scribbled down some lines. “These are the prayers for you to say. Put them in your memory and they will protect you always.”

  Out in the car, Jesse turned to me, raising his eyebrows before shifting the car into drive. “Pretty weird stuff.”

  “Not any more strange than the Seekers.”

  “True.”

  I yawned. My lack of sleep was starting to gain on me. “What’s the ceremony really like?”

  “Hmm, well, I make it a point to never witness their little ceremonies. But from what Dad says, they have a special room with lots of candles and things like that. They put the coin in the bowl and when the eclipse is over, so is John or Jane.”

  “Dead over?”

  Jesse brushed his hand through his hair. “Might as well be.”

  “But what about the person, or at least their body? What happens to them after the Seekers take their soul?”

  “The body is left to cure for a few days in a dark, cold room. Then they begin training them to take on the rituals. In a few weeks they are ready and their soul is kept in the coin, hidden in a safe with all the other coins where it’s used as a general source of power.”

  “How many coins do they have?” The real question was, how many did they need? Would they ever be satisfied? Seeming to read my thoughts, Jesse let out a bitter laugh.

  “They’ll never have enough. They said when they get yours and his,” I scowled the way he said that, “they’ll have enough power to leave and start seeking in other towns.”

  I yawned again, glad that we were pulling into Brentwood, at two o’clock in the morning no less. Jesse turned to speak to me before getting out of the car, slipping his arm around my headrest.

  “You can have the bed; I’ll sleep on the couch. Oh wait, the couch is the bed! Oh, man, you’re sleeping next to me tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes and followed him out of the car and up the steps to his apartment. “The key word is sleep. I’m tired.”

  We walked in and I could barely wait till he had pulled out the mattress. Putting on a huge t-shirt, I crawled in and instantly began to feel the curtain of dreams reaching out for me. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked, barely able to talk.

 
“Not yet. You go ahead. I have some things to think about. Sweet dreams.”

  “Okay.”

  I saw him extract a guitar from a case by the back wall and I lay listening to him for a while before going to sleep. Expert fingers picked out a gentle tune, so beautiful I just couldn’t let myself drift off. I felt like crying and didn’t know why. I thought of how we were all at sundown, like William was each day before his fade. Each of us was running from the night, trying to hold on. Like sleep, it eased slowly and before you knew it, everything was gone.

  The next morning I pestered Jesse about doing the protection chants. He could only make it five minutes before going to grab his guitar again. “This is how I meditate, okay, Emma? You go ahead though.”

  I made a resigned nod of my head and went on, secretly happy that he was going to play. I’d felt a lot of resistance coming from his side, making it difficult to concentrate. The tranquil melodies he provided put me in the perfect place, with William at the center of my focus.

  Jesse finished one more song, then crept over to place the guitar on its stand against the wall. He crouched next to me on the floor, stretched out his arms, and took my hand. “I think that we need to go have some fun. If these are our last few days, I want to do it all. Eat what I want, drink what I want, kiss a pretty girl.” He winked at me, but I rolled my eyes.

  “Good luck with that last one,” I teased, “but I’m with you. What should we do first?”

  I pushed away the thought of William alone in some cave room; cold and ready for death. My time was coming to help him, but for now I would follow Jesse’s lead and make the most of every last moment I might have on earth.

  “Ever been skinny dipping?”

  “It’s broad daylight. No way.”

  “Our last days,” he reminded.

  I groaned in exasperation as he pulled me up off the floor.

  We found a private cove away from the main beach and tore off our clothes—I left my bra and underwear on—running from a grassy hill to jump into the water. Laughing the whole time, I no longer cared about what he or anyone might think of me. The lukewarm water felt good on my skin as I dove into its depths. When I surfaced to take a deep breath, I caught Jesse staring at me, mouth open.

  “What?” I asked. “It’s just skin.”

  “No it’s not,” he corrected. “Believe me, when you’re a guy, it’s not just skin.”

  “Well, it was your idea. So deal!” I splashed him playfully.

  “Yep. The best idea I ever had. And you fell for it!”

  I splashed him harder, diving in before he could retaliate. In a flash, he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me up out of the water and to his chest—his bare, naked chest. “Didn’t think I was going to give up yet, did you?” His breath was hot and close.

  “No,” I stammered, “not really. But I don’t love you the way I should. If I hadn’t met William, then who knows, Jesse.”

  “Right.” He let go, scanning the watery horizon, seemingly deep in thought. I started to move away, feeling sorry about our good moment turned bad when I felt a movement behind me. “But I can do this!”

  He had me up in the air and flying out over the water to a big, messy splash. I guess that made us even because after that we swam in peace, laughing at each other’s antics, enjoying ourselves without reserve.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  The next day our new agenda was to head to the store and buy food we’d always wanted to try—caviar, blue cheese, smoked salmon, capers, dark chocolate, couscous, anchovies, a big pineapple. When he placed a bottle of wine in the cart I raised my brow, receiving a sly smile. “Party at my place, tonight.”

  We got back and decided the only thing we wanted to eat was a big sandwich, and we left the exotic foods on his kitchen counter.

  “This is insane,” I commented, shoving the last bit of bread into my mouth. “Here we are acting as if the entire world is ending. Not sure if I’m ready for any of this, you know?”

  Jesse took a swig of soda. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Just remember all that stuff I taught you about poker, okay? If someone is staring you down, it means they have a bad hand and they’re trying to intimidate you into folding. Got it? Keep that poker face. And keep doing your protection prayers.”

  I smiled, holding back a wave of tears that had been threatening to flow ever since our time at Paul’s house. Was it too much to ask for a happy ending, that everyone make it out safe, including me? I’d do anything to know William and I could be together, and that Jesse would always be my friend.

  “Jesse,” I said, voice cracking.

  “Prayers,” he repeated, turning away.

  When I was done Jesse pulled me up to my feet. “Okay, now it’s party time, only I have an idea.”

  “Which is?”

  “We go to Phil’s and hang out. There are some last minute things I need to check anyway.”

  I went over and grabbed my bag. Why not? He scooped his keys off the kitchen counter and grinned.

  Lights flickered on at the record store. The place seemed too quiet but Jesse was quick to fix that. He set the needle on the old RCA Victor and Freddy Mercury began to sing out pure and clean from the overhead speakers.

  “You ready?” he asked, withdrawing a little white object from the pocket of his leather jacket. My eyes opened wide.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Oh, come on Emma. This is your last chance to be the bad girl. If you’re going to risk your life then I think you deserve a little bit of fun for once.”

  “I can’t.”

  He rolled his eyes, lit the thing, and took a slow drag. “Ready?” he choked.

  “No.” I closed my eyes, shook my head for a moment, and reached out. “But you’re right, this is my last chance to do something fun. Go ahead and give it to me.”

  “I’m so happy,” he said, handing it over. “I think I’ve finally corrupted you.”

  “Yeah, well.” I took a puff and tried to ignore the itchy feel of smoke sliding in against my throat. “I was already corrupted; you just brought it out a little.” I choked hard and handed it back. My lungs flared with fire, and I began to wretch with painful coughs. “Ouch, seriously. Ouch.”

  He smiled. “It goes away. Anyway, you? Miss Perfect, corrupted? I’d like to see it.”

  Still choking a little, I threw my hair back and mussed it up a little. “You never know when I could just,” I climbed up on the counter, “do something really crazy!”

  “Like what?”

  “Like this!” I grabbed a few records and began to fling them across the store. “Goodbye Doris Day! Goodbye Connie Francis! Goodbye Rosemary Clooney! No more of this Pollyanna stuff for me! I’m breaking out!”

  “I wish. But I think that’s just the brain injury talking.”

  I laughed and climbed down next to him. “And that’s why I love you.” His eyes lit up. “Like a friend. Just a friend. You make me laugh.” A little bit of smoke puffed out of my lips and I was choking again.

  “Always good for that. Unfortunately.” He took another drag and reached for the wine we’d bought earlier. All he had to open it was a little pocket utility knife that Phil kept under the counter. Jesse struggled; the bottle was wedged between his thighs and he pulled and pulled to get the cork out. “Dang it! I’ve almost got it. There!” The cork flew across the room. “Might be a little floating inside, but what the hell?”

  He handed me the bottle and told me to take a sip, and while I did he switched the record to the Stones. With a flip of a knob he had the volume up to its highest notch. I took a couple of long gulps, suddenly enjoying how warm the liquid was and the way it felt as it made a path down to my stomach.

  “Dance with me.” Jesse held out a hand.

  “No way.”

&nbs
p; “Yes. Come here.” Jesse yanked me close, causing red to spill on my feet. Both of us burst out laughing. “If anything happens, you can have the apartment, okay? And all the records. Hell, take it all.”

  “What are you talking about?” I walked over to turn the volume down for a second. “I’m the one dying, the one they want. Just shut up already.”

  Jesse walked over and turned the music back up to high. He grabbed me by the waist and spun me around, forcing my hips to sway along with his. I couldn’t concentrate anymore. I felt uneasy and sick in the stomach. My head was spinning more than it should, and things were getting slower, more confusing. What if this went wrong? If anything happened to Jesse, I’d never forgive myself. And William. What if I never looked into those beautiful blue eyes again? What if I lost him forever to the world of the Soul Seekers? It couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it! The only person allowed to die in this whole ordeal was me.

  Putting my head on Jesse’s shoulder, I let him lead me around the small store to the sound of Mick Jagger crooning about how hot he was for a girl, but she was so cold.

  20: Time

  Jesse handed me a black hooded jacket, telling me to put it on, but I couldn’t hear. Blood ran through my ears like a freight train, and pumped through my temples in painful waves.

  “Whatever happens tonight,” he started to say, “I want you to know that, despite everything, I am a better person now having met you. Before, I was a cheat looking for an easy way out. Nobody meant anything to me, the future was empty, but you made me want to be a good person and for all the right reasons.” He moved his head slowly from side to side. “They were the reason I was in the street that night, you know? They sent me out to find you. You were this lonely girl who had lost faith, grieving your father’s death, mad at your mom. Then you had this coin. I was supposed to turn you in, but I couldn’t do it. When I looked into your eyes, I couldn’t do it.”