Where All Souls Meet

by S. E. Campbell

  "I just want to be with you," Thema said. "Why can't I go?"

  "Because you’re a little kid," Adanna said. "You should just go to school."

  "But I want to be with you." Thema stomped her feet. "I love you."

  "Well, I don't love you," Adanna said angrily, hands on hips.

  Silence fell over the hallway and both of her parents sucked in air. Thema gazed at her, a devastated expression on her face as if Adanna had stolen her whole world. With a sob, Thema spun around and ran to her room. She slammed the door behind her.

  Adanna lingered in the hallway, filled with anger, annoyance, and guilt.

  Eden blinked and looked down, realizing Satan still had his hand in her chest. All five heads gazed at her, drinking in her reaction. She shook her head and tried to force away the hurt expression on Thema's face from her mind. No, she didn't want to remember her friends negatively. She wanted to imagine them happy and free. Not like this. Never like this.

  She was angry at Adanna regardless. But how could she be sure Satan hadn't just invented these memories himself? Adanna's memory had been believable. She had had a selfish teenaged moment. She couldn't imagine Adanna killing somebody, which Satan could have easily have placed in her head.

  "Good," said the shriveled head.

  And before she could breathe, his hand gripped her heart again, driving her deeper into hell's play land.

  Chapter Twelve

  The street was crowded as Aaron got out of his car. A lone girl with long blonde hair, which fell to her butt, walked in front of Aaron. Her hair glowed gold in the sunlight and she had bright blue eyes and fat, glossy lips. She had on a pink sundress, though the majority of the people on the street wore jackets because the sky was overcast and grey.

  Aaron continued to follow the girl until she reached a café and went inside. With his hands buried in his pockets, Aaron stared at the sidewalk as he collected himself. After a few shaky breaths, he turned around and entered the building. The girl was in the front of the drink line.

  "Hi, Lisa," the store clerk said.

  Lisa. A perfect name for the perfect girl. He moved in closer and he could smell the scent of strawberries in her hair. Lisa turned her head and glanced at him, narrowing her eyes as if daring him to take a step closer. He moved up behind her in line.

  "Just a regular black coffee, please," Lisa said, a nervous hitch to her voice.

  "Of course." Though the store clerk smiled at her friend, she narrowed her eyes at him a second later.

  Lisa moved out of the way, causing his breathing to hitch, but he calmed himself. The store clerk, who he now saw by her name tag was Kim, glowered at him. Kim was tall with long brown hair and wore a tight plaid shirt. Kim examined him with concern after Lisa's pointed look.

  "Can I help you, sir?" she asked.

  "I'll have whatever Li—the girl had," he said.

  "Okay," Kim said, shooting Lisa a concerned stare.

  Lisa stood waiting for her coffee. The barista handed her the drink and she took it with a grin on her face. When Aaron locked eyes with her, the smile slid from her face as if he had leered at her instead of grinned. The way she looked at him made him feel as though he had been kicked in the stomach. Why was a mere look enough to make her appear that upset?

  "Sir?" Kim said, drawing him from his thoughts.

  "What?" He jerked around.

  "It'll be three dollars and fifty-nine cents," Kim said, frowning at him.

  He ran his credit card on the device next to him and she printed a receipt for his drink. Frowning, he went to wait for his order. The whole time, he could not keep his eyes off the beautiful, enchanting Lisa. She looked like she belonged in a fairytale. He wished he could be with her every second. Of course, he had been doing that for the past three months.

  Lisa gazed up at him and their eyes met for a moment. Amazing. Truly amazing. Lisa glanced away quickly, ashen-faced. The barista set his drink on the service counter and he grabbed it, squeezing the hot cup so hard the liquid nearly poured over his hand.

  Aaron walked over to the counter with the cream and sugar, staring blankly at a cup full of stir sticks and a jug of cream. Today is the day. I have followed and watched Lisa for as long as I can remember. I should talk to her. Make her mine. The idea caused his heart to pound and blood to rush to his head.

  Turning, Aaron took a step in Lisa's direction and felt paralyzed. Perfect. Too perfect. Yet he wanted to speak with her, be with her. He bit his bottom lip, still shaking and scared. He approached Lisa and she stared determinedly at her magazine as if she did not see his approach. Aaron could see the redness go up her neck, into her cheeks, and into her ears. She's so cute when she blushes.

  "Lisa, I—"

  "Will you leave me alone?" Lisa said shrilly, standing up so fast she almost knocked over her coffee which sat on the table. "Why do you keep following me all the time, huh? I hate it. I've seen you outside of my house, I've seen you at my job, and I've seen you whenever I go out with my friends."

  The blood drained from his face and his heart pounded harder.

  "I love you," Aaron said, staring at her. Lisa's expression did not soften.

  "No you don't," Lisa said. "You do not love me. You don't even know me."

  "Lisa," Aaron said.

  "No." Lisa crossed her arms. "Get away from me, or I will call the cops and have them get a restraining order on you. I've waited long enough."

  Silence filled the whole coffee shop. Kim rushed over, wrapped her arm around Lisa's shoulder, and then glared at Aaron. He felt his world spin. How could she do this to me? How could she? Everyone in the whole room glared at him, and he swore everyone in the whole world did too.

  Groaning, Aaron spun and headed for the door. Once he stumbled out onto the sidewalk, the sound of angry wasps filled his ears as he walked toward the parking lot. He looked at his car, which was parked three spots down from Lisa's. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his key chain and stared at the folding pocket knife, which was hooked onto the chain. When he opened it, the sharp blade glinted in the light. He stumbled toward Lisa's car and inspected her tire; he drove the blade into the hard black material and felt it give. The tire wheezed and whistled as air left it.

  Aaron put his blade away and stuck it in his pocket. After turning around, he jogged toward his car. Once he sat behind the wheel, his heart pounded a thousand miles per hour in his chest.

  Eden's eyes shot open and she stared straight into Satan's evil faces. His hand remained in her heart, digging around in her soul. She whimpered, attempting to struggle, but he had such a strong grip on her she couldn't get anywhere. It was like she was stuck in his arms forever. She threw back her head and screamed in pain and hopelessness. Somebody up there had to hear her. How could this be happening after all she had gone through for God?

  "How can you know this about him?" Eden said. "How can you put this in my head?"

  Satan gazed at her with wicked grins on his faces. "Do you think God is the only one who watches you? When a child steals candy from the store, I'm there. When a parent beats their child, I'm there. When a person tells a lie, I'm there."

  "You're evil," Eden said.

  "I also know why your boyfriend felt so guilty he had to watch out for his mother no matter what it cost," Satan said. "I. Was. There."

  "What?" Eden asked.

  "You heard me loud and clear," Satan said. "I see everything. Everything. You aren't the only one with secrets. Your friends have them too."

  Then he ploughed into her heart and she was whisked away into another memory. She was sucked down and down, reaching upward in hopes of grabbing onto something to keep herself from being forced once more into a terrible world.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Yuri sat with his mom in the kitchen. She appeared plumper than she had before. There was a healthy sheen to her hair and her cheeks were a bright pink. A vacant expression covered her face, though, and her eyes were swollen and raw. His mom wore an all-b
lack woman's suit, and in the distance, there was the sound of people stomping around and talking. Yuri, however, just watched his mom and then moved over to the refrigerator and opened the door. The inside of it was filled with deviled eggs and trays of ladies' fingers. On the stove, there was a pan of potatoes covered with a layer of bubbling cheese, despite the fact the pan had been taken out of the oven minutes ago. A second batch of potatoes was still cooking.

  "Yuri," his mom said.

  Ignoring her, he continued to stare into the refrigerator as cold seeped through his fingers. He stared so long and hard his eyes ached and his jaw grew tense.

  "Yuri, I need an aspirin," his mom said. "Get me an aspirin."

  "I don't want to," Yuri said.

  "Yuri," his mom said, a threatening edge to her voice. "I have to stay here and wait for the second batch of potatoes to be done. I've made all this food and cooked and cleaned the house. The least you can do is go upstairs and get me a pill for my headache."

  He shut the refrigerator and stood trembling at the door. Anger built in his stomach. At my dad's funeral, she wants me to do all of this work for her. The anger continued to build, along with sadness and confusion. He grew angrier and angrier, too angry to reply to any request for pills. Grumbling, he left the kitchen through the swinging door and walked into the crowded living room, which had plastic tables laden with food. There was a crowd of thirty or so, all in black, mingling together, talking. Everybody appeared solemn.

  One of his dad's friends, a plump, balding man, came over and grabbed Yuri’s shoulder, but he shook him off. He didn't want to talk to anyone. All he wanted to do was disappear into the woodwork. Maybe he could go back in time to a week ago when his dad was still alive and the two of them had taken pictures together at the park.

  His throat suddenly felt raw and he choked down tears as he headed toward the stairs. As he stumbled forward, his dad's face appeared in his mind as if the memories at the park had been some of his photographs too. Snap, the two of them stood in front of the pond. Snap, the two of them hovered over a pair of nesting ducks. Snap, he hung off the bridge in an attempt to capture a fish on film. He was torn between wishing the memories would go away for good and wanting to hold them in his mind so he would never, ever forget them.

  The sound of one of his mom's friend's loud, obnoxious giggles caught his attention and halted his thoughts. He sighed and went up to the small, cluttered, bathroom. The last guest who had used the toilet had left the seat up and a dribble of urine. He shook his head and felt more anger bubble up to the surface.

  He shakily opened the cabinet which held all the medication in it with a bang and several pill bottles tumbled out to the floor. Two bottles popped their lids and scattered their contents along the tiles of the bathroom. He swore and stared downward at the sea of blue and white pills. He couldn't remember which was which. Dad was always terrible at putting the tops back on the pill containers.

  Bending down, he picked up the bottles. There was his dad's bottle of Methotrexate, which had been used to treat his cancer. Next to it, there was a closed bottle of his mom's NSAIDs for her arthritic knee. The third bottle which had fallen open was the family container of aspirin. Several other bottles, unopened, also lay upon the floor.

  Down below, he heard his mom yell, "Yuri, while you're up there, bring my knee pills, okay?"

  Yuri silently studied the pills, swore again, and then hastily picked up two sets of each of the pills he had dropped before opening his mom's arthritic medication. She'll know what to take. After turning, he opened the door to the bathroom and sprinted outside and into the hallway. His mom stood at the bottom of the stairs with a glass of water in hand talking to the man who had tried to speak with him only moments earlier. The man held his mom's steaming, cheesy potatoes by the pot's safety handles. His dad's face filled his vision and his anger bubbled to the surface like the cheese on the funeral potatoes.

  He jumped down the steps two at a time, the pills clenched in his fist. When he reached his mom, he extended his hand to her with the pills.

  "Mom, I—

  "Thanks, Yuri," she replied, taking the pills from him and then popping all of them in her mouth without looking. She took a swig of water and swallowed.

  "Mom…" Oh, no, I am in so much trouble.

  He paused for a moment, jaw tense. His mom frowned and stared at him.

  "What's the matter?" his mom asked. "You look pale."

  "Mom, I…"

  He took a deep breath.

  "Nothing." He shook his head. "Forget about it."

  Eden was pulled from the dream and blinked. Satan hovered over her, glaring down at her with his many heads.

  "Yuri…"

  "He was so easy," Satan said. "She shouldn't have mixed those pills."

  Eden frowned.

  "Funny how one little incident can permanently affect your brain's ability to produce chemicals," Satan said.

  "You…" Eden stared at him.

  "I was there, but Yuri gave her the wrong pills." Satan sneered at her. "How much do you love your friends now? I can feel the light fading from you already."

  "It was an accident," Eden said.

  "Was lying?"

  She was silent.

  "He belongs more to me than he does to you," Satan said.

  Then Satan pushed more into her soul, causing her to scream and cry out again. She didn't want to go back, but she knew she had to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Edward stood in the cold of the night with his hands in his pockets. There was a thick haze in the air as he gazed downward at his boots. His mouth was in a tight frown. Someone to his right said his name and he glanced up and kept on walking.

  Almost there. I'm almost there.

  He headed down the muddy street and entered a small tavern. Once he was inside, he was almost knocked over by the loud singing and drunken laughter. Several men sat in chairs and talked to one another. Most of the men were rough looking and older. The smell of stale beer filled the bar. At the edge of the bar, a man with a mustache and a frown waved at him. Edward wound his way around a table and headed toward him.

  "Michael," Edward said when he reached him. The man stood up and hugged him tight. "It's good to see you again."

  "It's good to see you too," Michael said. "Please, sit down."

  After sitting down on a bar stool, Edward nervously cast a look over his shoulder and then began to dig around in his pockets to get a grip on his money to make sure it was safe. He exhaled a shaky sigh and then gazed at his friend again. Michael was bearded and plump with a large, overhanging belly and fat fingers. He had grey eyes and a missing tooth in the right side of his mouth. The two of them had been close ever since they’d been in the army together. Michael was trustworthy but haggard on the outside, the type of man who made strangers wince but was actually gentle. "Do you come here a lot?" Edward asked. "This is the bad part of town. I don't feel comfortable here…"

  "Yes," Michael said. He leaned forward and dropped his voice. "I brought you here because… because… I need your help with something."

  "What?" Edward frowned at him. "What did you do, Michael?"

  "Well, my wages. I got mugged…" Michael stared at his shaky hands. "I heard you got a good job going for you as a servant at the rich manor on the hill, and I wondered if you could help me. I promise I will pay you back for every penny."

  For a second, Edward struggled to say anything. A flashback of war scenes filled his head. "How can you ask me to help you? You know how I feel about money."

  "I know it," Michael said. "Please. Just a little. It's all I ask. We've been through everything together. I saved your life, Edward. I saved your life."

  I can't give him anything. I have to save for myself. Who knows when the market will crash again? I can't risk it. He stood up, shaking his head, and moved to turn away. There was the sound of tinkling glass as Michael threw himself at him, wrapped his arms around his waist, and held Edward still. Edward's h
eart thundered in his chest and he found himself frozen.

  "You've been my best friend for five years," Michael said. "Please. Help me. Just a little is all I need. I promise."

  "I can't," Edward said.

  "But I have a wife and daughter," Michael said. "They don't deserve this. I… I'll pay you back. Every last penny."

  Though he knew he should have given Michael what he asked for, some part of him couldn't stomach the idea of letting go of his money. Not because he was going to use it for anything, but because he needed to have his savings in order to feel safe at night. He couldn't imagine going to sleep with the idea of having nothing looming over his head. He needed the money. Needed it.

  "Let go of me, Michael," Edward said sadly. "I can't give you what you want."

  Michael released him. Edward pushed his way past the people again and into the night.

  Eden returned to herself. Satan continued to hold her in place with his hand. Her insides seethed as she let out a low groan. Edward had appeared to be the type of man who would give anything to others. "He had me on his shoulder for the rest of his life," Satan said. "Such blissful stinginess. Wouldn't give away a penny to save a starving soul."

  "Stop it," Eden said. "He lived through a time when people starved to death. There was a reason why he didn't give him the money."

  "Most lived through the time," Satan said. "Not everyone held on to their money as if it was all they had."

  Eden was silent, unsure of what to say.

  "It appears you are running out of words to defend your friends," Satan said. "Good. This is what I wished for. And the best is last."

  "What?" Eden said.