The Soul Thief

by Leah Cutter

  “Okay,” Karl said, nodding. “You okay for staying here on your own this morning?”

  “Yeah,” Franklin said. He was tired, but he wouldn’t fall asleep on the job. And besides, none of the ghosts had followed him to the stand.

  “All right,” Karl said. He pushed himself off the counter where he’d been leaning. “If the sheriff comes by, you don’t let him give you any grief.”

  Franklin snorted. “Sure thing.” He was so tired he might give the sheriff a piece of his mind if he showed up.

  “Got any plans for tonight?” Karl asked as he made his way through the back of the stand and out toward his truck.

  “Julie’s coming over for dinner,” Franklin said. He’d even put fresh sheets on the bed. Not that there was any guarantee they’d get to using them. Julie might be tired too. That had happened once or twice. Franklin was still hopeful, however.

  Karl gave Franklin a grin. “Maybe I should come back early so you can nap. Save up your strength for later.”

  Franklin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get going, so you can get back.”

  “Sure thing, lover boy,” Karl teased.

  Franklin just rolled his eyes again.

  After Karl had gone, Franklin swept up the loose dirt on the inside of the stand. The floor was just rough boards laid down. If Franklin ever dropped anything, he had to be careful picking it back up, or he might get splinters. While he was breaking down the empty boxes he served a couple more customers, Mr. Hanson from just up the way and a tourist passing through.

  Franklin was just about ready to start up the propane gas tank and try his hand at some more popping corn when the sheriff’s brown Crown Vic pulled up.

  Sheriff Thompson got out of his car and took a long look up and down the stand. Then he grinned at Franklin. “Looks mighty nice. Glad you boys agreed that this place needed some sprucing up.”

  Franklin opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. Wouldn’t do him no good, and he really didn’t want to get on the bad side of the sheriff.

  “You got deputies coming by tomorrow to sell tickets?” Franklin asked as the sheriff came up.

  He nodded. “That I do. You sure you don’t want a pair of tickets?”

  “I’ll be seeing Julie tonight. Will ask her,” Franklin said. That way, it wasn’t just him saying no.

  Not that Franklin couldn’t stand up to the sheriff if he set his mind to it. Mama might call him all kinds of fool for doing it, but Franklin didn’t care.

  It weren’t right, the sheriff trying to bully them that way.

  “Now, you sure you don’t want to try and sell some of these tickets on your own?” the sheriff asked.

  “No, sir,” Franklin said. “Don’t want to be responsible for them that way.” Too easy for them to get lost or the money not accounted for or something.

  “There’s a prize for the officer who sells the most tickets,” Sheriff Thompson admitted.

  “What, you gonna split it with us?” Franklin asked.

  The sheriff snorted. “Not likely.”

  Franklin shrugged. “No reason for us to sell any, then,” he said.

  The sheriff nodded. He leaned against the front of the stand, looked out at the semi passing by on the highway, then asked, “You been hearing any strange sounds out at your place lately?”

  Damn it. Was the ghosts howling loud enough that the neighbors could hear?

  “No, sir,” Franklin lied. “What kind of sounds?” He made himself take deep breaths and stay loose and calm, just like they did on TV.

  The sheriff turned to stare at Franklin with his hard, beady eyes. “I think you’re lying. There’s been complaints of eerie sounds coming from your place. I think that some kind of trouble’s starting up again. And I don’t want any part of it. You hear me?”

  Franklin gave the sheriff an easy nod. “I don’t want no trouble either. And I still don’t know what you mean by strange sounds.” He weren’t about to give in.

  His cousin Darryl would be proud of him for lying to the police.

  “Howls,” Sheriff Thompson finally said. “Beastly howls on the wind. Like something’s wounded, in pain, and not yet dying.” He seemed angry.

  “Don’t got nothing like that out at my place,” Franklin told the sheriff.

  “Then you won’t mind me coming out and taking a look at the place,” the sheriff said.

  “I would mind, Sheriff,” Franklin said, his back stiffening. “You want to come out and look at my place, you get yourself a search warrant.”

  The sheriff narrowed his eyes at Franklin. “You sure that’s how you want this to be?”

  Franklin sighed, exasperated. “Look, there’s nothing out there for you to see. There’s nothing nobody can see.”

  Sheriff Thompson stroked his mustache, considering, before he nodded. “Y’all is talking about those damned ghosts again, aren’t you. What’d they do this time?”

  “Sheriff, I don’t know what you mean,” Franklin said. “Now, I ain’t admitting to talking to ghosts. But if I was, believe me, these wouldn’t be no ordinary ghosts.”

  “The ones howling? Then what’s going on?” the sheriff growled.

  “Nothing,” Franklin said adamantly. “Nothing’s going on. No ghosts is out at my place howling and making noise.” No regular ghosts, at any rate.

  “Fine,” the sheriff said. “But if I get any more complaints, I will be getting that search warrant.”

  “It’ll just be a waste of your time,” Franklin said. And it would be. The sheriff couldn’t see ghosts. No one could but him. But despite what all had happened the year before, the sheriff still didn’t believe in ghosts. Still figured he’d be able to do something with Franklin’s visitors.

  “I’ve got my eye on you,” the sheriff said, then he turned and walked back to his Crown Vic.

  Franklin couldn’t help himself. “Y’all have a nice day!” he called out.

  He couldn’t hear the sheriff muttering to himself in response, but he did imagine the sheriff had a few choice words for him in reply.

  After Sheriff Thompson had driven off, Franklin slumped against a wall of the stand.

  What was he going to do? How was he going to hush those howling ghosts?

  Ξ

  Franklin leaned into the next kiss, his arms wrapped tightly around Julie. He wanted her in a way that he’d never wanted a woman before. She smelled wonderful, like freshly mowed grass and the lavender in her shampoo and her own, warm, womanly scent. He just wanted to hold her close and breathe in her smell along her neck, have it set his world on fire.

  They’d had a nice night. He’d grilled steaks out in the backyard, and even eaten the green lettuce salad with the raspberry dressing she’d made without too many complaints. The howling ghosts had been quiet all evening. He hoped they wouldn’t start up again until much, much later, like after midnight.

  Franklin sat with Julie on the couch in the living room, and he was getting really comfy. And really uncomfortable too, at the same time, in his jeans.

  He was glad he’d put on fresh sheets that morning.

  They’d sat watching TV for a while, holding hands, until Julie had sighed and just snuggled up against him. She wore a white T-shirt with pretty lace around the scoop neck, tight enough to show the sliders on her bra straps and all her curves. Instead of her usual jeans, she’d worn a pair of light blue pants that Franklin had teased her about, reminding him of the scrubs she wore for work. Her soft brown hair had felt softer than ever in his hands, and her big hazel eyes sparkled in the dimly lit living room.

  Franklin had enfolded her in his arms, started kissing her, and she’d started kissing back.

  There weren’t nothing better than this. Well, maybe a couple things.

  Still, Franklin was in heaven, with Julie in his arms, fresh kisses between them, and the promise of a warm night ahead.

  Franklin didn’t notice anything was wrong until Julie pulled away. She shivered in his arms.

&n
bsp; When Franklin tried to pull her closer again, Julie put a hand up in the center of his chest.

  That made Franklin pay attention.

  Damn it.

  The ghosts had started howling again.

  “What’s that?” Julie asked, looking around the room.

  “What’s what?” Franklin asked. He leaned forward and snuck a kiss on Julie’s neck, taking a quick breath of her scent and holding it.

  “That. That sound,” Julie said, shivering again.

  Franklin sighed and sat back, giving up. For the moment. “I’ve got some strange ghosts visiting,” he admitted.

  “What do you mean?” Julie asked. She looked scared. “Has that creature from last year come back?”

  “No, no, nothing like that thing.” Franklin took hold of both of Julie’s hands and brought them to his mouth, to kiss the back of each. He sighed.

  “Out with it,” Julie told him. “I had the feeling that something was wrong.”

  Franklin nodded. He hadn’t wanted to burden Julie his troubles.

  “Two-three days before, I helped a man pass. He walked away from the backyard, out into the cornfield. I know he passed on. To whatever is next.” Franklin paused. “Then he came back.”

  “How is that possible?” Julie asked.

  The howling increased. The second ghost had joined in.

  Franklin pulled Julie to his chest, settling her in there, his arms wrapped tightly around her. But he didn’t try to kiss her again.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure what’s going on.”

  “That’s why you was yawning all through dinner, isn’t it?” Julie asked. “’Cause even you’re having troubles sleeping through this racket.”

  Franklin nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So if they just came back, what will make them move on again?” Julie asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Franklin said. “A second one showed up this morning.”

  Julie nodded, her soft hair sliding across his chest. She shivered again as the ghosts howled louder. “You can tell me these sorts of things, you know,” she said softly.

  Franklin kissed her temple. “I know. It’s just hard. I’m not used to telling anyone about the ghosts.” Except Mama, but she didn’t really count.

  “I get it,” Julie said. She pushed herself up, off Franklin’s chest, then up off the couch, standing. She held her hand out to Franklin, helping him stand as well.

  He knew better than to hope that she was gonna be leading him to the bedroom. Still his heart beat harder when she took his hand.

  But she led him through the dining room, back out to the kitchen.

  “I’d love to stay, but I just can’t. Not with that kind of noise,” Julie told him. She wrapped her arms around him, then stood on her tippy toes to kiss him lightly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I understand,” Franklin said. They couldn’t go to her place for the night—she had roommates. And he weren’t about to suggest something as sordid as a hotel room. His mama raised him better than that.

  Franklin walked Julie out to her car—a beat-up old Ford Focus with a specially tuned engine that could outrun most of the other cars on the highway.

  He kissed her again, then opened the car door for her get in. The ghosts was out back, but he didn’t want them getting any ideas or following her.

  Julie started the engine then rolled down the window. “I know you said that using that knife from Eddie was cheatin’. But maybe you should think about it again.”

  Then she peeled up out of his driveway, spinning gravel before she hit the lane, driving away fast, as always.

  Franklin thought for a moment. He’d forgotten about Eddie’s blade. He’d given it to his cousin Darryl, for holding.

  The blade was triangular, with three raised sides, made from a cold metal. Franklin wasn’t sure what it was about that knife, but it weren’t good.

  Franklin wasn’t quite sure what exactly that knife could do. He figured that it was a way to send a ghost to the beyond.

  Mama had called it cheating. Instead of doing his duty and helping the ghost, it would have forced them away.

  Would it kill a ghost? Or just…disperse it?

  Franklin didn’t want to have to use it on the ghosts who’d come back to haunt him.

  They might not leave him a choice.

  Ξ

  Franklin groggily slapped at his alarm the next morning. The ghosts had kept him up most of the night.

  When he checked outside, he swore.

  Not only had they made so much racket they’d driven Julie away, they’d also started tearing up his corn. They hadn’t destroyed the entire field, just flattened half a dozen stalks on the end.

  How long before they destroyed everything growing in his yard?

  Franklin shook his head. Damn it. Those ghosts weren’t leaving him much choice.

  He was going to have to go get that blade from his cousin Darryl.

  Then maybe use it on his unwelcome guests.

  Three

  FRANKLIN DRAGGED HIS ass to the fruit and vegetable stand Saturday morning, dreading the day ahead. He was so tired he could barely see straight. The ghosts had really set up a racket all night right outside his bedroom window after Julie had left.

  He was kind of glad she’d gone and hadn’t had to listen to it.

  Karl took one look at Franklin and gave a low whistle. “I don’t want to hear about the good time you had with your girl last night. But man, you look like you was rode hard and put away wet.”

  Franklin nodded sheepishly. At least Karl had just given him a good excuse for being tired that day.

  Not that he’d ever tell Karl the truth about the strange ghosts. It all felt like too much of a failure, somehow. He’d done his duty. What more was he supposed to do?

  “You stay in the back of the stand as much as you can today,” Karl instructed. “Just restock. Don’t be trying to count change. Okay?”

  “Thanks,” Franklin said.

  “And here,” Karl added, thrusting a bottle of soda at Franklin.

  Franklin grimaced at the taste. Too sweet, with a chemical burn in the aftertaste. But he’d forgotten to bring any of his own sweet tea.

  And he did need the pick-me-up.

  The teenage girls helping at the stand that day—Laticia and Samantha—didn’t make any smart remarks. But he caught them looking his way and giggling a couple of times.

  Franklin was too tired to decide if it was better to be laughed at or called weird.

  At the end of the day, Karl told him to skedaddle early. Franklin pedaled his bike into town instead of going straight home.

  He was tempted to go to his old grocery store, but the store manager, Charlene, had never forgiven him, either for getting in trouble with the law or for Julie. So Franklin went to the fancy new pharmacy store up the hill from Main Street,.

  He was going to sleep that night, ghosts be damned.

  The store was only a couple months old. It had those annoying fluorescent lights that Franklin hated. The floor was wide open, just a big boxy space with row after row of low shelves.

  At least the air conditioning was nice. For a while. Franklin suspected he’d freeze if he had to stay here for any length of time.

  Franklin went straight to the section marked, “Sleep Aids.” He found himself some orange, squishy earplugs, like the kind that Darryl had made him wear the one time they’d gone to the gun range. And he found three different types of sleep medicine. He was too tired to figure out which would work best for him, so he just bought all of them.

  One of them was bound to do the job.

  He paid cash for his goods, helping the girl behind the stand count out his change when the register didn’t show it right.

  It weren’t that Franklin thought that the sheriff might be tracking him. But Franklin had seen too many TV shows where paying for something on credit was what brought the police to the criminal.

  Though he wasn’t a criminal. And it were
n’t really his fault. He’d done his duty, though part of him was starting to feel like he’d failed. Was there something more he was supposed to do?

  Stupid ghosts.

  Franklin tiredly pedaled back home. He merely glanced at his field, doing a quick count. After the first dozen stalks or so, the ghosts had stopped ravaging his field.

  He hoped they wouldn’t pick up where they’d left off. He still really wanted that blue ribbon prize for the best popping corn awarded by the Kentucky State Fair every year.

  But he couldn’t fight the ghosts. Not tonight.

  Instead, Franklin picked at a bit of leftovers from the night before, even eating a bit more of the green lettuce salad that Julie had left for him.

  As the sun went down and the ghosts picked up their howling, he found that the earplugs didn’t really work. The sound pierced through them, straight to his soul, raising goose bumps all along his arms and across his back.

  If he couldn’t get them to shut up, at some point, he might have to try a pair of those fancy noise cancellation headphones that he’d seen on the TV.

  Though that was just more money flying out the door.

  Franklin tried to read the ingredients on the sleeping medicine, finally picking the one that was just pills, not the liquid that smelled too much like cough medicine.

  Franklin didn’t like how woozy the medicine made him feel. The room was spinning, like when he’d gone into shock after the creature had attacked him.

  He weren’t sure that taking the medicine were any better than listening to the ghosts howl.

  In the morning, he didn’t feel a whole lot better. Sure, he’d slept some. But it were, to use the phrase, the sleep of the dead, and he didn’t feel rested.

  More stalks of his corn had been trampled that night. What, had the ghosts been having a dance? They lay swirled on the ground.

  Franklin shivered. The creature who’d attacked him the year before had looked like a whirlwind, with black whip-like arms made of thorns.

  The creature hadn’t come back. But there had been a wind out there, blowing last night, that Franklin had slept through.