Souls in Peril

by Sherry Gammon

  “Maybe you could go by your middle name,” Max suggested kindly.

  “My middle name is Noah,” he said dryly.

  “Okay. Maybe not.”

  “I used to go by Gabe, but when I made First class, I thought Gabriel sounded more, I don't know, regal, I guess.”

  “Gabe sounds regal,” Max offered kindly.

  The angel smiled. “You really are a nice kid. I can see why He wants to offer you a chance to finish out your allotted time.” Gabe thumbed through his stack of papers, bringing a yellow one to the front.

  “Finish my allotted time?” Max narrowed his eyes at the angel.

  “Yes. Everyone gets an allotted time. Some get longer, others shorter. Since your allotted time was cut short by us and not you, He feels it's only fair we allow you to return and continue your journey. We'll have to find a body for you to use since everyone believes you’re dead. It wouldn't do to have you walking around all of a sudden.” Gabe looked up from his papers. Max could feel a but coming.

  “However, there must be a reason to send you back. You can't go down just so you can play around and waste the rest of your time,” he warned Max.

  Max thought for a minute. It would be weird to go back as a different person, on the outside anyway. But the alternative was what? Wait here until his allotted time was up? He could be sitting in the little white room for years. He was only eighteen, after all. “I'm game. What have I got to lose, right?”

  “Wonderful. I do like your attitude. I believe we've found the right man for the job.”

  Despite Gabe's kind smile, Max’s defenses rose. “What job?”

  “We would like you to work with Jayden Miller, temporarily. After you've helped him out, we'll discuss a more permanent future for you.”

  Max racked his brain. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Was he a struggling baseball star that needed Max to guide him through a pitching slump? Incredible pitching and Max were synonymous in his mind.

  “I believe you may know him better as Lumpy Larry?” Gabe frowned. “Children can be so cruel sometimes,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Lumpy Larry? You want me to help . . .” Max stopped his protest. Helping Lumpy may not be all that bad. He's not a bad looking kid. I can get him into shape. And maybe I could see Emma again.

  Emma. He hadn't thought about what she must be going through. They'd spoken of marriage after college, having a family. Now I’m . . . Max couldn’t even think the word.

  “There is something you should know.” Gabe hesitated. After several long seconds, he continued. “Jayden is being implicated in your family’s deaths. Let me assure you, Max, the accident was just that: an accident. There were no drugs or alcohol, nor horseplay involved. I can promise you that.”

  Max stepped back. Lumpy killed him and his family? The news rocked him to his core.

  “I understand this is difficult, Max. And as I said, it truly was an accident.” Gabe placed his hand on Max's shoulder, squeezing softly.

  “Jayden's going to need a friend in his corner when he heads back to school. He's awkward and clumsy. He won't know how to make this better with the other students, nor with some of your friends,” Gabe pointed out. “And you’ll get to see Emma again, although it will be only as a friend.”

  “Dirty trick throwing in Emma as bait, Gabe. I’ll bet that’s against the Angel’s Union, if there is such a thing,” Max said dryly. Gabe flashed a guilty smile and shrugged his shoulder.

  Max had to admit that, despite the Emma bait, calm washed over him at Gabe’s words. He felt sorrow for Lumpy. What a huge burden to have on your shoulders at his age. He thought about Em’s dream to make Lumpy and Izzy their friends, and how her pretty face lit up when she explained what she planned to do. She’d want Max to do this. She’d be proud of him.

  In the end, it was Em that made his decision easy. He’d get to be with her again. Helping Lumpy would be a breeze, then he’d spend the rest of his time with his Em. Looks like she’s going to get her wish, and I’m going to be there when she does. Max smiled confidently. “I’ll do it.” It felt right the minute he said it. He’d made the right choice without a doubt. He immediately began planning how to help Lumpy—correction, JD. First, Max would eliminate all junk food from JD’s diet. Then he’d outline an aggressive exercise routine for him. Max could almost feel the sweet burn in his own muscles.

  Gabe smiled widely. “Your mother said you’d take the assignment. You’re very blessed to have lived your life with the love and support of your family. Not everyone does, you know.”

  “You’ve seen my parents?” All thoughts of JD left Max’s head. His parents were dead. He wouldn’t be with them for a very long time now. “May I see them?”

  “I’m sorry, Max. They’re not in the holding cells, and the living are not allowed to cross-over to where they are. You’re only allowed to be in this immediate area. I hope you understand.”

  “Sure,” Max nodded, swallowing hard.

  “After your assignment with JD, I’ll take you to where they are. I promise. We’re talking two, maybe three months tops.” Gabe rested a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Sound good?”

  “Sounds good.” Max could make it three months. It’d be like a really long summer camp.

  “Wonderful. Follow me. We should get started.” Gabe led him out of the room and down a long white corridor lined with doors.

  “Max, behind these doors are souls in peril. The souls are placed into a state of suspension while we assist them with their particularly difficult struggles. We don’t often intervene in people’s lives, preferring to let life take its natural course, if you will. But there are times when we feel the need to intercede, especially for those in situations like JD’s. Ultimately, it is up to the individual if they accept the help. We don’t force our support on anyone, but it is offered. We keep their souls safe here while we help them.”

  “Or when you accidently kill them,” Max said dryly.

  Gabe’s ears burned red at Max’s words. He opened one of the doors and entered. Max followed him into another all-white room. White desk, white chair and a white flat screen of some kind occupied the room.

  “Why is everything white? It’s kind of boring,” Max said with a frown.

  “Precisely. It’s kept this way so as not to imprint on the people who are here. We want it void of anything that may jog a memory later on in life.” Gabe pulled out the chair and signaled for Max to sit down. “Jayden Miller’s home, please.”

  The flat-screen flickered to life with a picture of a modest sized, mint green, one-story house. The yard was small, but well taken care of, and a small shed sat behind the house.

  “Living room, please.” The monitor instantly responded. A thirteen by thirteen foot living room appeared on the screen. An older turquoise couch sat along the far wall. Despite its age, it was in good condition. Two black vinyl chairs sat next to the couch and faced a large TV stand with what had to be a sixty-inch TV. It wasn’t the older furniture that was distracting; it was the discarded cups from various fast food restaurants littering the floor. Max now understood JD’s weight issues. How did anyone expect to stay fit eating a steady diet of fast food?

  Gabe continued the home tour, familiarizing Max with each room. When he finished with the house, he directed the monitor to a local nursery, the Rose Garden. His mother had bought daisies there just last month.

  “This is his mother, Mel, short for Melody. She is a lost soul. Hopefully, your helping JD will rub off on her.” Max watched as a tall, thin woman with stringy blonde hair loaded a bag of manure into the back of a rusted-out pickup. “She works as a clerk at the Rose Garden, bless her heart. She’s a hard worker and a good provider. Unfortunately, her choice in men leaves much to be desired. She’s not treated nearly as well as she should be.” The compassion Gabe expressed humbled Max.

  “And this is Mel’s current boyfriend, Timothy Garen.” Gabe stiffened as a rough looking man with an almost b
ald head appeared on the monitor. He had a few scrapes on his arms and a bruise on the side of his head. Max had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the guy dig through JD’s dresser. Tim found a quarter in the drawer and shoved it into his pocket.

  Gabe commanded the monitor to shut off. “Do you still want this assignment?” he asked Max.

  He hesitated for a moment. JD’s life and his were nothing alike. He knew this would be a challenge, but he also craved challenges. He took a deep breath and, looking Gabe squarely in the eye said, “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Wonderful. Jayden is still in the hospital. He’s been in a coma for about a week from his head injury. He also has a few cuts and bruises from going through the windshield. To make this effective, Jayden’s brain will be experiencing what you do physically. His mind will believe it is actually him doing whatever it is you do. If you decide to work out, he will feel you pushing his body’s limits. We know that your own body was in excellent condition, and we assume you will want to help JD improve his health. We advise you to take it slow. His body is not used to the same rigors yours is.

  “Your personal thoughts will be your own. He will only be able to hear them if you speak directly to him. He’ll believe they are his thoughts, so please do this. It will add to the sense of realism for him, and we’ve found this to be very helpful.

  “Remember, Max, his mother is very different than yours, and JD loves her very much. Be patient with her. Try to understand her.” Gabe led Max out of the room.

  “After you have completed your assignment, we will bring you back here. When JD’s soul re-enters his body, there will be no time lapse for him. He will think that everything you did he did. I will warn you, Max, there will be times the connection between you will be very strong. Remember, you’re assuming his form. If you suddenly experience emotions that are foreign to you, most likely they are JD’s.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of emotions?” Max asked. “Like happiness or love?” Did JD have a girlfriend? Max hadn’t thought about that.

  “We usually see this happen with emotions like fear and depression. These are much stronger than people realize, and they can rob a person of so much. Since these emotions have never really dominated you, at least not like they have JD, be prepared. They can suck the will to live out of you if you let them take hold.”

  Max wasn’t worried. He believed the best way to beat depression was to exercise. And as for fear, he couldn’t remember the last time he feared anything. He had confidence in his abilities. He’d help JD if it killed him.

  “Come along, Max. It’s time.”

  Chapter 5

  Max rolled over, a groan pouring out his raw throat.

  “Sweetie, are you in there?” A cool hand wiped at his brow. He didn’t recognize the voice, but somehow he knew he loved whoever it was. He peeled his eyelids back, coming face to face with a thin woman and stringy brown hair. Deep lines etched her face. She obviously hadn’t had an easy life.

  “Hello, sleepy head.” The woman smiled and kissed his forehead. Her kiss brought a flood of memories to Max. He’d agreed to come here in JD’s place. He’d been asked to help him . . . by an angel. Gabriel. It seemed surreal and yet very real at the same time. Max forced himself upright. Every bone in his body protested. It almost took more energy than he had. JD’s mother adjusted his pillows as she filled him in on the accident, giving him no more details than Gabe had. “You’ve been out of it for over a week now.”

  “So M-mom,” the word tasted foreign on his tongue. “When can I go home?” He lifted his arm to brush the hair from his eyes, it weighed a ton.

  “I think we should start with Jell-O first,” Mel grinned. She pulled the brown table around from the foot of the bed and slid it in front of Max, handing him a spoon. He leered down at the food.

  “I can’t eat. My head is killing me.” He gingerly laid his head back against the bed’s rock hard headboard.

  “That may have something to do with flying through a windshield.” She shook her head at Max. “Tim is pretty mad at you for wrecking the car. I didn’t even know you could drive a stick. Some mother I am.” Max cringed at the name Tim. Since he knew little of the man, he assumed the feelings were JD’s, and Tim wasn’t a favorite of his.

  “Do you think I can have some aspirin? My head really hurts.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll get the nurse.”

  Max slid down under the covers since sitting up proved to be a mistake. He tugged the scratchy sheet up over his pounding head, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. Staying awake took too much effort.

  “Hello, I’m Detective McKay with the Port Fare Police Department.” Max’s dull senses snapped to attention. He pulled the sheet down, to see Emma’s father standing at the foot of his hospital bed. Marty McKay was an imposing man, all six-foot-four inches of him. He had a large bushy mustache and piercing blue eyes, like Emma’s.

  “Hello, sir. How’s Emma doing?” Sitting up, his head pounded in protest. Max about swallowed his tongue at his faux pas. Stupid, stupid!

  “You know my daughter?” Mr. McKay held out his hand and warmly shook Max’s.

  “Ah, not really, no.” Max fidgeted as he tried to cover his tracks. “I’ve seen her at school, you know, cheering, and I’ve seen you pick her up after school while I waited for the bus. I know she and Max were dating. I just wondered how she was doing with him being gone and all.” Max still couldn’t bring himself to say dead. He laid his head back down. Where’s Mel with something for this pain?

  “Son, are you alright?” Mr. McKay stepped closer.

  “Yes. I’m a little weak from the accident still.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I need to speak to you about what happened that night. Are you up to it?”

  Max didn’t know exactly what to say. He’d have to be vague since he had limited knowledge. “Well, I can promise you I wasn’t high at all.”

  “Yes, we got your blood test back, everyone’s actually, and it’s all good. Also, the tests performed at the accident site proved no one was driving at excessive speeds. We’re eager to figure out what exactly happened and, we’re hoping you can fill in the blanks.” Mr. McKay sat down next to Max in a stiff plastic chair and opened the file he’d brought in with him.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I just don’t remember anything,” Max offered weakly.

  “Do you remember if there was something in the road?” Max shook his head. “What’s the last thing you recall?” Mr. McKay asked.

  “I remember looking through my locker for something after school that day. I don’t even remember what it was,” Max admitted. He should have asked JD what he was looking for, but he was too busy kissing Emma. Guilt washed over him. Why didn’t he offer to help JD?

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

  “Hello, Officer McKay.” In sauntered Mel with a pink water pitcher. “The nurse is going to be in with your pain pills in a minute,” she said to Max. “So, is my baby guilty of something?” She glowered at Emma’s dad, square in the eye. A look he’d seen his own mother do a hundred times when she had felt the need to protect him. Max called it her mother bear look.

  “We’re still investigating. Interviewing JD is our final step. My report should be ready first of next week.” Mr. McKay closed his folder, stood and shook Max’s hand. “JD, sometimes accidents just happen and no one is to blame,” he said gently as he handed Max a small business card. “If you remember something, no matter how unimportant it may seem to you, please call me. Take care of yourself.” He turned for the door and over his shoulder said, “And Emma is going to be fine. Don’t you worry.” Max’s heart leapt as Emma’s dad walked out the door. He needed to see her himself, just to be sure.

  “So what do you remember?” Mel asked cautiously. Max looked at her. She suspected her son was responsible, he could see it in her tightly pinched features as she straightened his bedding.

 
; “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” he assured her as best he could. “One minute I’m in the car, the next I’m in a strange room covered with a sheet.” He left out the part about accidentally dying and taking over her son’s body.

  The nurse came in with a little white cup in her hand. “Here are your pain meds, Jayden.” She held the cup out to him.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll suck up the pain.” He’d never been a big fan of pain meds. He wanted a clear head when he went to see Em.

  “If it becomes too much, let me know.” She tucked the cup into the pocket of her pink scrub top. “I spoke with your doctor. He said if you tolerate dinner well, he’ll consider upgrading you to real food in the morning,” she said as she left.

  Max pulled the tray back over to give the Jell-O another shot. “Maybe they’ll let me go home tomorrow. What do you think?” He slurped a chunk of the gelatinous mess. Disgusting.

  “Tomorrow? Oh, dear.” Mel sank into the chair vacated by Emma’s dad. “I have to work a twelve hour shift tomorrow and can’t afford to take another day off. I wonder if they’ll let me pick you up after nine. It will have to be in a cab, since we no longer have the car.”

  “I can take a cab home in the morning. I’m really hoping to be home early enough to go to school.” It was the safest place to see Emma. If JD suddenly appeared on her doorstep, she’d think he was a stalker.

  “I don’t know, JD. You’re pretty banged up.”

  “Please, mom. I’m tough, I can do it.” Max flexed his muscles, as pitiful as they were. He had his work cut out for him.

  Mel laughed. “I think the car accident knocked a few screws loose. I’ve never seen you this independent before—turning down pain meds, volunteering to take a taxi, and actually wanting to go to school. You’re like a whole new person.”

  You have no idea. Max smiled and finished eating his Jell-O.

  **

  To Max’s disappointment, the doctor didn’t release him until five days later. By Monday, he thought for sure he’d lose his mind if he had to eat one more bland meal or sleep one more night on the hard plastic covered mattress. When not outlining a workout routine for JD, he spent his time obsessing over seeing Emma. His mother had to work all but one of the days, so most of his time was spent alone. . . thinking . . . worrying.