The Soul Thief

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by Leah Cutter


  He didn’t come forward to fight Franklin, though. He cackled madly, the sound sending chills down Franklin’s spine.

  Was this the solitary ghost he’d seen at the battleground earlier? The one who’d been with them in the trees for a while?

  The ghost stalked over toward Doctor Traeger.

  Odell leaped off her perch, getting out of the ghost’s way.

  Doctor Traeger rose unsteadily to his feet. He swayed…

  …and the ghost seemed to catch him.

  They embraced for a moment, a strange sight, the doctor living and breathing and in full color, the ghost white as early morning fog. They looked like long-lost brothers, holding on like they’d both just found each other after years of searching.

  Then they passed through each other.

  Except that on the one side, the body of the doctor fell.

  And on the other, two ghosts now stood there.

  The doctor started howling, a loud, startled sound that faded as he did, the other ghost grinning as he sucked the doctor’s soul away with him.

  Where had he come from? Was that strange ghost another man with power? A soldier who’d been killed, and just biding his time? That was all Franklin could think of.

  The blade whimpered in his hand. He took a good look at it.

  Before, the blade had had three ridges on it, forming a triangular blade. One had been shaved off, and the others looked soft, faded.

  The blade wasn’t an evil thing, no.

  But it was wounded, and likely to strike out if Franklin just let it be. Or its power would draw another madman.

  Franklin took the blade in both his hands and focused his will on it, now.

  It was time for it, too, to pass along, to go rest.

  The pain licked at Franklin’s side, pulsing once more.

  The blade itself didn’t resist none. The souls that had made up the three parts of the knife unraveled, like a braid being untied, removing themselves from the cold metal. Winds sprang up across the field, rustling the grass. The smell of caves and wet, moldy earth filled Franklin’s nose. Sticky spiderwebs passed across his hands, then faded and dropped to the ground.

  Franklin pushed again. Goodbye, he said. Thank you.

  The blade sighed to itself as it grew hollow, emptying itself into the air and the beyond.

  For a moment, Franklin found himself somewhere else. It was a land filled with forests and meadows, the air tainted with violent colors. The smell of prey came from every direction.

  It weren’t his idea of heaven, that was for damned sure.

  But the three souls that had made it up sure seemed happy to be there.

  When Franklin saw the field again, he realized Julie had come marching across it. She stood next to him, her hand raised mid-air, as if she wanted to touch him but were afraid to do so.

  Franklin wrapped a weary arm across her shoulders and pulled her in tight. The warm scent of her drifted up from her hair, soothing his soul.

  When he looked up, he saw Odell squatting next to the doctor, her fingers lightly touching his neck.

  “He’s dead,” she announced as she stood back up. “Died of a heart attack,” she added firmly. “I’ll make sure he’s found safe and secure in his bed.”

  Franklin opened his mouth to volunteer to help, but knew it would probably be better if Odell did the work herself. He still tried to take a step forward, and faltered. He felt as empty as the blade he held.

  Julie held him tightly as he leaned his weight against her.

  “Now, what did I tell you about ending up back at the hospital?” she growled at him.

  He gave her a weak smile. “Just need to rest up some.” Her warmth seeped into him, all along his side, bringing him back to life.

  “You sure you okay to take care of this?” Franklin still asked, catching Odell’s eye.

  “Course I can,” she said. “You two disappear.”

  Franklin turned with Julie still helping, and started shuffling across the field.

  “And Ray said to remind you, ‘never again,’” Odell said.

  Franklin paused, then nodded. He weren’t ever gonna ask Ray for another favor, not even to pass his beer across the table. But he also knew he should have trusted Ray, that Ray would have found him a good person, a local, even, one who he could trust.

  But he was still just as happy that Odell was only passing through, that she wouldn’t be sticking around, that she’d be heading back south wherever it was that she lived. He weren’t sure he’d ever trust her, not really.

  As they walked across the grass, the night outside felt softer now, the air crisp and the wind chilly. Franklin shivered, realizing he still carried the blade.

  “We’ll have to give this a good resting place,” he told Julie as they reached the lane.

  “Tomorrow,” Julie promised him. “Or the next day.”

  Or the next, or the next, or the next.

  Franklin found himself grinning.

  There would more days, many more days, after that as well.

  Ξ

  The ceremony for the blade’s burial was small—just Julie and Franklin gathered together in Franklin’s backyard.

  Eddie had provided the box—plain pine, with the wood dyed red and the insides covered in a green felt so dark it were almost black.

  The pain in Franklin’s side had mostly gone away. He weren’t sure if it would come back to haunt him, as it were, some nights when there were ghosts hanging around the property who’d gotten restless.

  Franklin dug a hole right in front of his cornfield—the spot where that first ghost had entered it and passed beyond. He hoped that white man had found his peace, somehow.

  They buried the knife that Sunday afternoon, Franklin slipping away from Aunt Jasmine and the rest of the family, claiming he still needed more healing time.

  The day was clear and warm, the summer sun starting to make itself known. The pond in Mrs. Averson’s field had already dried up, the frogs disappearing. Or had that been the ghosts? Wind blew the sound of the interstate over the pair of them, like the shushing of waves.

  After Franklin put the box in the hole, he weren’t sure what to say. “Rest in peace,” he eventually came up with. “I wish peace for you and all those souls you’ve touched.”

  And good hunting, Franklin added silently, remembering that glimpse he’d gotten of that other world.

  Julie added a prayer that she’d gotten from Eddie, asking Brigid and those other gods Franklin didn’t believe in to help the blade find its peace. Then she took three of the four rocks she’d blessed with sage and rosemary and placed them on the wooden box in the hole. She gave the last one to Franklin, for him to place with the others.

  Julie added, “Sleep and rest.”

  Then Franklin started filling the rest of the hole back in.

  After Franklin finished, he and Julie stayed in the backyard, sharing a beer. The evening started to settle around them, the air still warm but growing soft.

  Franklin knew that Julie had things to say. He weren’t certain, but he thought he might have more words to share with her as well.

  He still took his time, and gave her the space she needed to find her tongue.

  Finally, she came out with it.

  “Were you serious, earlier?” she asked.

  Franklin merely raised his eyebrows at her. He weren’t quite sure what time earlier she was talking about.

  He certainly loved her, that much he knew.

  “About starting a family,” she finally clarified.

  “Someday, yes,” Franklin said.

  She shot him a look. Was she anxious? Nervous?

  Franklin reached across the white metal table that stood between them and took her hand. “Not now,” he said, caressing the soft skin of the back of her hand with his rough fingers.

  Julie seemed to relax. “I’m not ready yet, either.” She paused, then looked out over the fields. “Maybe not ever.”

  Franklin paused.
“I ain’t gonna lie. I do want kids. More family.” To be able to watch them grow up. To become the best dad he could be.

  Maybe even pass along a little of what he’d learned.

  But Julie seemed to accept that. Or maybe she was just happy he’d told her the truth. “What if they’re like you?” Julie asked.

  Franklin blinked, surprised. Was that what this was all about? Did Julie have problems with him and his ghosts? He thought she’d come to accept that part of him.

  Though she didn’t really know much about them, he had to admit. He’d always been uncomfortable talking about them with her.

  “Then we’ll train our kids up right,” he replied gently. “Train them to do their duty.”

  Julie sighed and took another sip of her beer. “I just don’t know,” she said softly. “Some days I think holding onto my own little girl would make the world perfect. Other days, well, maybe my world’s already perfect enough.”

  “I can’t make that decision for you,” Franklin said. “And I’ll try not to pressure you about it.” They’d have a rich, full life without any young ones, he knew that.

  Just as he knew that his heart would always ache sometimes for the little girls and boys he never got to hold.

  Julie nodded. She appeared satisfied. “I’m not saying no to kids, not putting my foot down. I just don’t know. However, if I do decide that I want kids someday, I’d like to have them with you,” she said very softly.

  Franklin tugged on their joined hands, pulling Julie into his lap. He kissed her softly, sweetly, giving her kisses full of promises and love. He didn’t know what the future held for them. He’d just have to wait and see.

  As things was starting to get interesting between them, Franklin’s side twinged.

  He stiffened.

  “What’s wrong?” Julie asked. “Am I too heavy?” she asked, starting to rise.

  “No, it’s not that,” Franklin said.

  He looked out past Julie.

  A ghost stood next to the spot where they’d buried the blade. She looked forlorn, lost, though she was wearing what had probably been her Sunday best—a floral dress with a darker jacket, and pearls that still shone against her dark, black skin.

  Franklin looked at Julie, then back at the ghost. Then he nodded, decision made.

  He helped Julie stand up, then took her hand and walked the pair of them over to where the ghost was standing. He kissed her temple, then asked, “Trust me?”

  She nodded slowly.

  Franklin squeezed her hand one more time, then took another step forward.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” he said, addressing the ghost. “Fine night, tonight.”

  The ghost turned her look of longing toward him, then back out, over the field. Her intent flowed out from her in waves: She wanted to keep going, but she just didn’t know how.

  “I think I can help you with that,” Franklin told the ghost.

  Julie squeezed Franklin’s hand, then walked back to where they’d been sitting, giving Franklin the space he needed to do his work, his duty.

  It would take time, Franklin knew, for them to figure out all the ins and outs, between her work and his. Between time for them and time for his duty. And maybe family time, someday, as well.

  But they could do it.

  And maybe, just maybe, someday Franklin would get to have the only type of immortality he was willing to strive for…a little girl with Julie’s smile and powers all her own.

  About the Author

  Leah Cutter writes page-turning fiction in exotic locations, such as a magical New Orleans, the ancient Orient, Hungary, the Oregon coast, rural Kentucky, Seattle, Minneapolis, and many others.

  She writes literary, fantasy, mystery, science fiction, and horror fiction. Her short fiction has been published in magazines like Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine and Talebones, anthologies like Fiction River, and on the web. Her long fiction has been published both by New York publishers as well as small presses.

  Find Leah’s books here.

  Follow her blog at www.LeahCutter.com.

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  Read Book One of the Chronicles of Franklin, The Popcorn Thief.

  Ghosts get stuck sometimes.

  Franklin helps them move from this world to the next. Sometimes that means giving a ghost a ride so they can confront their killer. Other times, it means listening to the wind in his fields and the trucks blowing down the interstate and hearing the songs a ghost needs to sing.

  Generally, Franklin happily does whatever a ghost needs. It’s his duty.

  Then Gloria shows up. She wants Franklin to steal the crop of his rival, Karl—they compete every year at the Kentucky State Fair for the blue ribbon prize for who grows the best popping corn.

  Franklin’s no thief. His mama taught him better.

  But something else is out there, hiding in the fields. Something much worse than a ghost.

  A creature that’s not interested in stealing crops, but in taking people’s lives and powers.

  A thing that Franklin and his family must stop.

  Available from Book View Café or your favorite retailers.

 

 

 


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