Soul Factory

by William E Belanger

  Jeff saw the end of the report and asked Bryan “Am I going to be charged with kidnapping?” Bryan smiled and responded “Not if we don’t get caught” to which Jeff shook his head and said “what have I gotten myself into?” as he walked into the other room.

  Jeff continued to work and proceed with life as usual while Bryan poured over the data. He was like a man possessed and was waiting at the door like a puppy one day when Jeff got home. “I found him” he said and thrust a stack of papers into Jeff’s hand. “I’m doing fine, my day was good” he responded as he took of his shoes and went to put his lunchbox away. “Come on, read the damn papers” Bryan begged.

  Jeff scanned through the stack of articles and it did seem as if Bryan was onto something. A 67 year old man in Tyler TX who lived in an retirement home had been making news by telling stories to the residents. Amazing stories, so detailed and crisp they seemed to come from a young kid’s mind. Stories so real and vivid you would believe that he had been there. Only he was telling stories about the Roman Empire, the Civil War, the age of the Vikings, and other wild and far flung adventures that he could not possibly have partaken in.

  A local writer was visiting his grandfather and heard some of these stories. He asked the man if he could record them and write them as a manuscript and the man had agreed. The kid had posted a recording on Youtube and it went viral in a few hours. Now everyone was clamouring to have an audience with the man but he decided he had enough and locked himself in his room.

  It wouldn’t be hard to get him to speak if they could get to him. Bryan had a plan that would add some fraud charges among other things to the stack of felonies he was collecting. He started to keep a diary of all the charges that could be levied on them and decided it was best to quit and shred those pages after it got over a page long. Maybe it was best to not have evidence like that lying around.

  Jeff and Bryan packed up the car and hit the road after work on Friday for Tyler TX. It was only just over 300mi away. Jeff booked a room in a nice hotel using his old name and had bought some tickets in his new name back in Lafayette so he would have an alibi should he need one. He didn’t realize his affiliation with Bryan would end up being a life decision that wouldn’t be easily reversed.

  Chapter 11- Tom Walker

  The guys arrived at the Twin Oaks adult care facility about an hour before lunch. They donned lab coats and put on some badges that Bryan had printed up on Jeff’s computer. Jeff was going to be a pharmaceutical representative and Bryan was going to be his son who was studying to be in the same field. Bryan had surmised that the facility had no less than 15 of these reps running around at any given time and they were given nearly free reign because the staffing was so light nobody had the time to escort them around. If they could get in and out in a reasonable time nobody would even raise an eyebrow.

  The lady at the front counter gave a quick scan of their badges and said “Sign in Dr. Schmoltes and little Timmy” as she thrust a nearly full clipboard at them. “You’ve got an hour, nobody wants to be messed with at lunch so check out by noon please” she reminded them as they headed towards the main lobby.

  The facility was set up more like a small apartment complex than a hotel. Each resident had a small one bedroom apartment with their own door which led to a grass courtyard. You couldn’t get in or out of the place except through the lobby but it gave the illusion of freedom and the residents enjoyed that.

  This freedom had its downsides of course. There were instances of residents playing checkers naked in the rain and tragic instances where residents would go missing for quite some time before being discovered dead in their rooms. Most of the antics were innocent or fuelled by dementia and nothing criminal had gone down. The facility prided itself on its care scheme, it was mostly hands-off and it made the residents feel like they still had some control of their lives.

  The guys found room 201 and knocked on the door. Tom Walker yelled some obscenities and told them to go do nasty things to each other. Both Bryan and Jeff laughed at the comment; it was a really good barb, especially when thrown by a 67 year old. “Sir, we represent Pilzton Pharmaceuticals and we have some exciting new vitamin products that will make you feel years younger” Jeff announced, hoping he would at least open the door. Tom answered with “I’ve got a vitamin for you boy; it might be hard to swallow. I told you to get lost, now beat it!” Clearly this guy didn’t want any new drugs.

  Bryan took a crack at it “Tom, you said in the Hurtgen forest you were with the 85th Infantry. That was a German unit. Where you part of Kampfgruppe Chill before that?” There was a long pause and you could hear the man shuffling closer. He asked “What do you know about Chill?” in German and Bryan responded “I was part of the 346th. I gave a man from the 85th the rest of my cigarettes and a garter from a French prostitute” Bryan answered. The door swung open and the man looked at Bryan with a look that screamed fear and excitement. “That was Klaus! My buddy Klaus” he practically screamed and quickly ushered the two in.

  Bryan and Tom shared the brief moment in time they had known each other. Tom had died during the Hurtgen battle and was reincarnated in his previous form. He only lived here because he had no family or kin to help him out on the minor things he needed. He had a heart condition that required monitoring and had been convinced to come to the facility after he had nearly died in his own apartment.

  With the little time they had Bryan made sure to get down to business. He explained to Tom that he was #556 and he had been “born” with full knowledge of his 12,000 years on earth. Tom was #318 and had a similar story. Only he had large gaps in his memory that were completely random. It was as if a certain type of event had been blanked but everything else was intact. The error caused a similar panic at the factory which Tom explained off as the hippie movement.

  Tom told the guys that he had been sitting in the waiting room when a blueprint occurred. A blueprint was a soul born with the complete picture, like Bryan and for all intents and purposes, Tom as well. The factory went on lockdown and everyone was taken back to their rooms while the problem was figured out. Most of the time it was something simple and everyone was brought back into the waiting room within a few days but there were other times when it took years. Bryan agreed and told Tom that he thought there had not been a recycle born since he had been blueprinted 16 years ago.

  “Dear God that is not good” Tom exclaimed. He put his face in his hands and talked through them “The hippies were a short generation and they almost destroyed this country. 16 years of a knowledge wasteland could destroy the world.” He continued “Did you know that a regional occurrence is what caused the rise of Nazi Germany?” Bryan shook his head no and Tom continued “A blueprint named Hitler was born and the factory went into lockdown. Back then things were more regionalized so they shut down the entire continent of Europe and Africa. You’d think they would learn. All those newcores just bought right into his crap and look where it got us!”

  Bryan was starting to understand the enormity of the situation. Impressionable souls were easily manipulated and this many newcores in the world just made it ripe for something evil to occur again. This was a much more dire situation than he previously had thought, it wasn’t just chaos anymore, it was Armageddon. Why didn’t the factory recognize good and evil? They only cared about time; clearly there were other qualifying factors for a soul’s distribution.

  Tom leaned in close “I snuck around once” he practically whispered to the two. “I was trying to find out who was in charge…what the place was all about” he looked over his shoulder and around the room before continuing. “They live in a tower, never saw them but they’re there…they….” Tom’s eyes widened and he grasped at his chest. He made a few groaning sounds and collapsed out of his chair. The man had just had the fatal heart attack he was hoping to avoid.

  Bryan and Jeff looked at each other in horror. They pressed the emergency button that was located in every apartment and bolted across the courtyard. They le
ft as everyone was rushing out to the room. “What’s all the commotion?” Jeff asked as they were signing out at 11:55. The lady at the desk replied coldly “Another one bites the dust.” Jeff and Bryan shook their heads and got out of there as fast as they could. It wouldn’t be hard to surmise that Tom had guests; hopefully nobody pointed a finger at them.

  “Oh man…” Jeff said as he drove out. “I left a bottle on his table” He shook his head and punched the steering wheel. “We’re gonna be charged with his murder. I can just feel it” he said. Bryan just smiled at him “Kidnapping and murder, you are an evil man Jeff.” Jeff punched Bryan’s arm a little harder than you would if you were playing.

  Chapter 12- Life on the run

  The boys were straight up fugitives now. Well, Jeff was, Bryan was still an innocent victim for the time being. Several of the residents had commented on a man and a boy running from the scene and the pill bottle on the table had Jeff and Bryan’s fingerprints on them. Nobody could quite put together why this man had gone crazy, kidnapped a 16 year old and then killed a senior citizen but the news had dug up Jeff’s past and everyone had decided it was post-traumatic stress disorder. “We just want to get this man the help he needs” was a common catch-phrase for the nationwide man-hunt that was on.

  Bryan dyed his hair red and spent nearly an hour every morning applying freckles to his skin. Jeff shaved his hair on the top which made look older. He dyed the remaining hair salt and pepper, basically a reverse “just for men” job and also spent about an hour every morning making himself look older. They purchased sports memorabilia for each area they visited so they just kind of blended in like tourists.

  It was a comical procedure but it was working and they had not been identified thus far. Police had ransacked Jeff’s apartment in Lafayette so going home was out of the question. They were truly on the run now and looking for their next lead.

  Being on the lam introduces you to a new culture. Bryan used his experience and intuition to find a chop shop near the border in Texas that painted Jeff’s car and changed the rims out for the low price of $400. For another $100 they were able to get a license plate printed and registered to the new car and a fellow named Reggie Fitzsimmons. The criminal underworld was a fascinating place, if you had the money or contraband to trade, you could get anything you wanted or needed.

  Bryan traded his Lexus code scanner for an ATM card spoofing machine and they paid homeless people to use the cards for a portion of the cash when they couldn’t just get extra at grocery stores and places without cameras. Neither of them liked scamming the system so much but they both figured if they didn’t complete their mission there wouldn’t be a system to scam in a few years’ time anyways.

  By the time they got to Peoria they both had a complete portfolio of IDs and bank cards. Bryan had it a bit easier, if he wanted to be his age he didn’t need any identification at all. Jeff always had his “son’s” social security card in his wallet and would pull it out if they were questioned. It all worked really well as long as you didn’t stay in one place long enough for people to start talking about you and realizing your stories didn’t jibe.

  They were in Peoria to talk to a young man who had been telling crazy stories much like Tom had been found doing. His stories were a bit more fantastic sounding than Tom’s but he was also much younger so there was a chance that his memory was a bit fresher. The brain and the soul had a great interaction; it was much like a computer. The CPU was the brain and the soul was the hard-drive. Much like computers though, as time went on the hard-drive would get fragmented and memories took a little longer to access. The “sleeping” process at the factory was basically a maintenance item for the soul. It cleaned up the junk and refreshed the “hard-drive”.

  The guy in question, Gerald Benoit, was 26 years old and worked as a waiter at a local restaurant. It was here where he would tell stories and he had also attended a couple open mic nights at various comedy clubs and coffee shop poetry nights. His stories were compelling enough to make people listen. Even people who came to a bar to laugh seemed to be enthralled when he told tales of Genghis Kahn and other historic characters.

  The boys decided to attend an open mic night that evening and then go see him the next day. It would allow them a little time to observe Gerald and see if he was the real deal. It also gave Jeff an excuse to drink which Bryan didn’t mind, he was getting a bit uptight. Bryan had an ID that said he was 18 and had made himself a goatee and five o’clock shadow for the occasion.

  They took seats a few rows back from the stage and Jeff immediately ordered a scotch and water. He was apparently going to tie one on tonight, it was a good thing their hotel was only a couple blocks down the road. They always stayed in nice places since the money wasn’t theirs. They figured if they could help the local economies by spending as much as possible while they visited then it would atone for the sin of stealing it to begin with.

  They sat through a couple pretty decent comedians and a few scotch and waters. It was finally Gerald’s turn. He approached the mic and immediately began telling a story. “There I was in Cleopatra’s arms. I was stroking her black hair when suddenly the chamber light was blown out.” Bryan leaned in to speak to Jeff, “This guy is full of it, and Cleo was a redhead.” Jeff looked confused; he had only seen her portrayed as having black hair. “Trust me dude…natural redhead, like me” Bryan winked.

  They sat through his stories and Bryan found a hole in each and every one of them. “Well, we can save ourselves some time and leave out in the morning” Bryan said. “This guy is a total whack-job, not a blueprint.” Jeff agreed because he had no choice. He trusted Bryan and knew he was the real deal and if he thought the guy was just making up stories then he probably was. “Besides”, Bryan continued, “If he was a blueprint he would be even older than Tom and he doesn’t have the distinction that 18 thousand years of existence bestow upon you.” Jeff completely agreed with that statement. This dude did not carry himself the way Bryan or Tom did. He had doubt in his voice which was something he never head from Bryan.

  Bryan helped Jeff pour himself into bed and got on his laptop to do some more research. He was a bit disappointed; this guy was their best lead so far. The only other lead they had was a girl in Missouri. They had suspicions about her being a blueprint but girls were much less boisterous than boys so it was hard to say. She followed the same template as Bryan but she had never publicly displayed her knowledge in a dramatic fashion that drew attention. Still, winning every science fair you enter, having a book published at 14 and a few other academic accomplishments made her a target. She was either a blueprint or an absolute genius. Besides, she was drop dead gorgeous to Bryan and he wanted to meet her.

  Amy McElroy would be their new target. She was turning 16 next week and was going to have a big party at the local arcade this weekend. Bryan was just going to show up as one of those classmates you pretend to recognize so you don’t embarrass them. If he got a minute alone with her then he could get her to come along with them, he knew that for sure. If she was a blueprint that is, if she wasn’t he had contemplated kidnapping her just because she was so damn cute. He wouldn’t do that to Jeff though, the poor guy had enough stresses in his life.

  Chapter 13- Close calls

  The boys were Jefferson City, Missouri bound. It wasn’t a bad drive from Peoria so Bryan let Jeff sleep in and nurse his hangover a bit before the two of them got on the road. Jeff was trying his hardest to be lazy on the make-up but Bryan kept nagging him with lines like “You sure have a pretty mouth boy” and “You’ll make a good wife” in reference to the hard jail time he would be facing if they got caught. The prospect of being a love doll for a large, murderous inmate would inspire anyone.

  They checked out with minutes to spare and hopped in their car for the half day ride to Missouri. Besides the constant fear of being caught, this little journey of theirs was exciting. Bryan felt like a secret agent, something he had never been in all his years. Jeff was enjoy
ing the freedom as well but he wouldn’t admit it. He felt he had to play the adult role since Bryan’s body was so young and his appearance was so innocent. Jeff was the child in the grand scheme of things. Bryan knew he was recycled, he was too wise not to be but Jeff’s memory had been wiped properly and he told Bryan he had honestly only had a couple instances of déjà vu his entire life.

  He must’ve had some obscure references active on his soul as some people would go through their whole life without a recollection. Those were the ones who were most adamant that reincarnation was a farce. They were usually very young souls without much of a database to draw off as well. If you only have 10 strong memories and they were all related to a Swiss Alps avalanche you wouldn’t find a whole lot of use for that as a truck mechanic in Mississippi. The factory worked in mysterious and sometimes chaotic ways. Bryan often wondered if anyone was actually in charge of the system. If there was they were either a genius or a raving lunatic with some of the things he had seen.

  Jeff hit the interstate and began to haul. Bryan looked over at the speedometer which read 82mph. “Woah there Andretti, we aren’t in that much of a hurry. Her party is Sunday afternoon and it’s only Friday.” Jeff looked down and nodded, Bryan was right, there was no hurry other than the urge to puke and die though that feeling would be there no matter the location.

  About an hour down the road Bryan whined about being hungry. “Dude, let’s get some grub” he said which caused Jeff to groan. “It’ll be good for you, come on, let’s get a sammich” he pestered. Jeff finally relented and pulled into a diner just off the interstate. They tried to frequent local places because not only was the food better but they knew their stolen money would be put to good use.