Cleaving Souls

by Chauncey Rogers

  “Oh, no, we’re just looking,” Alex said, trying to sidle away from her down the aisle. When Kat didn’t follow, he stopped.

  “Just looking? A pity. There’s many good things in here. Some things I think you may need.”

  There was something about this old woman that Kat couldn’t define. Something about her that made Kat curious and afraid—but maybe it was eagerness, and not fear. It made Kat feel like a small child, trying to understand and describe something complex. Geegee, she remembered, had seemed to trust the strange woman immediately, and part of her wanted her to do likewise. The other part wanted to run.

  “What kind of things?” she asked.

  “A reading, perhaps?” the woman said, glancing over to Alex and then back at Kat.

  Alex looked at Kat, then said, “I don’t think—”

  “How much?” Kat said.

  “Five for one or both for eight.”

  “We’ll take it,” Kat said, trusting the half of her that agreed with Geegee.

  “Kat—” Alex began to protest, but Kat shot him a look, and he relented. “Okay,” he said, digging out his wallet. “Five dollars?”

  “Eight,” Kat said, “for both of us.”

  “Never mind about tax,” the woman said, reaching a withered white hand towards Alex. “Just eight even will do fine.”

  He counted out a few bills and then put them in her hand, drawing his own away quickly like a kid feeding some strange animal at the zoo. She took the cash and folded it carefully before slipping it into her shirt.

  “Well,” she said, looking back up at them, “would you mind standing next to one another? That’s how I do my couples readings.”

  Alex didn’t move, so Kat shuffled sideways to stand beside him in the aisle, her right shoulder touching up against his upper arm. The pair of them faced the woman and waited.

  It didn’t take long. She stared at them with both eyes for a moment, then grimaced. The grimace deepened into a sour, sullen frown—the kind that can only be achieved when many teeth are missing. It alarmed Kat, who reached her other hand over to cling to Alex’s forearm. Alex tensed, his body going through the natural fight or flight debate while his mind tried to filibuster the whole thing.

  Slowly, the old woman’s eye rolled backwards—not both eyes, just the earth-colored, seeing eye. Her cloudy blind eye stared forward still, remaining fixed in spite of the other eye’s gradual upward list. Then the woman snapped her eyelid shut, covering her seeing eye with a vein-laced web of blue and pink capillaries. All the while, the blind eye bore into them, shifting from one face to the other before dancing over their bodies.

  Then, just as suddenly, it was over. The woman’s eyes were both open again, the grimace was gone, and the atmosphere of the room had returned to that of “ Madame Suzzane’s Souvenir Shoppe.” All was the same, yet not the same. The feeling of having been inspected, of having been stripped and examined—dissected—felt even more strongly throughout Kat’s body than it had that morning, and she shook beside her husband.

  “Well, what a lovely pair you two make,” she said. “Your natural auras are perfectly aligned in both hue and pulse-rate, and that’s rather uncommon. There are some who would say that makes you soulmates, but I’m not sold on such notions. However, if it makes you happy, then go ahead and believe it. My experience is, soulmates or not, you’ll disagree plenty and have many moments of doubt. Speaking of, you’re going through some rough things right now, aren’t you? Financial worries?” She shook her head sympathetically. “Don’t worry about them too much. Money isn’t everything, after all, and soon enough those worries will be less—not gone, mind you, but less.” She looked straight at Alex. “You should try to be more careful about what you eat on the road, or all that grease will catch up to you.” Then she looked at Kat. “You’re doing fine, dear. Try to worry less. And you still have that dark aura over your shoulder. You need to get that looked into soon.” Then she looked at both of them. “As for the babies—did you know it was twins?”

  Kat shook her head—not to say she hadn’t known, but to argue against Suzzane’s claim. “That’s impossible,” Kat said. “We did the ultrasound already. The doctor—”

  “Sometimes they miss these things, dearie,” Suzzane said. “It’s twins. I’m nearly certain. Your mother had twins, too, didn’t she?”

  Kat shook her head more firmly, her wonder fading as the woman’s divination strayed farther from the truth.

  “Hmmm. Well, they say these things skip a generation. Anyways, one of the twins is doing just great—the boy. But the other one....” Suzzane hesitated, as if unsure what to say or unwilling to deliver bad news. “I suppose I just don’t know. The girl is there, but I couldn’t see her quite so clearly. Perhaps she isn’t feeling well today. But the boy is lovely,” she said, smiling toothlessly at them, “just lovely. He’ll be strong and busy. Now, is there anything else you were wondering about?”

  “I don’t think so, thank you,” Alex said. He grabbed Kat by the hand and gave her a firm tug. “Thanks a lot, Suzzane, but we need to go. I think our dog is wandering off.”

  “No,” the woman said without looking. “She’s not.”

  “Yep. Pretty sure she is. This is a great little place,” Alex said, accidentally rattling a display of squirrel-bone necklaces. “We’ll tell our friends, for sure.”

  “Yes, please do,” Suzzane said. “And be sure and do something about that aura, Katherine.”

  Alex had reached the door with Kat in tow behind him. He pushed it open and stepped outside, swinging the door shut behind Kat as they walked out into the alley.

  “That,” Alex said, shooting a glare at Kat, “was not funny. I’ve never felt so violated. I hope your little prank was worth the eight dollars.”

  “What?” Kat said. Then the accusation dawned on her. “No, Alex, I swear I didn’t set that up.”

  “Right,” Alex said. “Come on, Geegee.”

  As they walked back out onto the main street, Kat thought she could hear Suzzane laughing behind them. An old, cackling laughter. Alex shivered and rubbed at his arms in spite of the heat. Kat, on the other hand, just walked beside him, wandering through her own conflicted thoughts.

  8

  Kat’s grip on her elbow tightened as the car bounced over another pothole, making its way back to the cabin.

  “I mean, you could’ve at least had her say something nice,” Alex said, leaning over the steering wheel to get a better view of the bumpy road.

  “Believe what you want, but I’m telling you, I didn’t set anything up with her.”

  Alex just shook his head, his lips clamped together.

  They’d been going back and forth ever since walking out of the souvenir shop, and no matter what she said, Alex wouldn’t believe her. It probably didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t believe in fortune telling or....

  But then again, maybe she did. She’d never mentioned her name to the old woman, had never told her she was pregnant, anything.

  She released her elbow and rested a hand on her stomach. Twins? Could it really be true?

  And what about her shoulder? What did the woman mean by saying there was a dark aura over her shoulder? Kat had been feeling watched lately—stalked, even. Perhaps there was somebody following her. Maybe that’s what the dark aura over her shoulder was.

  “What is this...?” Alex mumbled. He’d just pulled into the driveway for their little rental cabin. Kat hadn’t been paying attention, but now her husband’s voice drew her back into their surroundings, and she saw the rusty old pickup truck parked outside their cabin—not too different from the one they owned. Just dirtier.

  Alex pulled the car up alongside it and stopped the engine, then climbed out, waiting for Geegee to follow him before closing the door. Kat watched as he went up and tried the cabin’s front door, realized that it was locked, and then started his way around the left side of the house. Before he disappeared around the corner, Kat made up her mind to follow hi
m and pushed her own door open.

  Whether upset with her about the fortune telling or not, Alex didn’t wait for her. He stomped around the corner, calling out, “Hello? Hello?”

  Kat had nearly passed by the porch when a shadow moved in her peripheral, at the cabin’s right-hand corner. Kat tried not to jump, but she turned too quickly to not betray some of the panic she felt.

  “Scare ya?”

  An old man stood there, tall and thick. He exposed coffee-stained teeth in an odd smile, as if he hadn’t meant to scare her, but since he did scare her had decided to enjoy it. His pants were tight-fitting Levi’s with mud spots on the knees, surrounded by a darker ring of wet fabric. One hand rested on the side of the cabin, while the other held a garden trowel. He stood almost perfectly still, save for his thin white hair, which fluffed out around a cochlear implant and shook in the breeze.

  “Yes,” Kat said, squaring up to him, “you did.”

  “Didn’t mean to. Sorry.” He brushed his right hand off on his dirty pants, then said, “You the folks is rentin’ the cabin this weekend?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  He grunted and nodded, apparently glad that his deduction had been correct. Then he took a step towards her and offered the wiped-yet-still-dirty hand to her. “Name’s Doyle. I’m the gard’ner here.”

  Reluctantly, Kat extended her hand. Doyle fairly well crushed it in his grip, giving it a solid pump before releasing.

  “Take care of most issues with the cabin, actu’lly,” he continued. “Just come by to poke ‘round the flowerbed. I’d put some seeds in her a while back, but most of ‘em didn’t take, an’ those that did looks like they’ve already died. Don’t make me sound like much of a gard’ner, don’t it?” His face cracked into hot, airy laughter, with a breath to match the stain of his teeth. Kat winced as it washed over her face, then turned—both with relief and for relief—at the sound of Alex coming around the corner behind her.

  “Can I help you?” Alex said, sizing up Doyle and sounding slightly annoyed.

  “No, don’t believe so. I’m the gard’ner and keeper here. Came by to see how things are gettin’ on. You folks the one who lassoed and tied back my juniper?”

  “No,” Alex said.

  “Actually, I did it this morning,” Kat said. “It was scratching up against the window last night, and it was disturbing us. I’ll untie it before we go.”

  “That’s fine, then,” Doyle said. “Ain’t no bother. I’ll just let you folks get on with things. Nice meetin’ you.”

  “Likewise,” Alex said as Doyle stumped his way by them, then climbed into his sagging and rusted truck, whose suspension squealed in protest at the added weight.

  They stood there for a little while longer, waiting until the truck had bounced down the driveway and out of sight before moving to the cabin door.

  9

  Kat sat on the porch outside, watching Geegee sniff around between the trees. She’d scared up a rabbit a few minutes ago, but it had taken off far too quickly for her to catch it. Now it seemed she was determined to find another rabbit and have another go at the experience.

  Alex was asleep inside, laying on the couch. He’d picked up her copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting and had started flipping through it—the first time she had ever seen him do so. Apparently he hadn’t found it that entertaining, because he’d passed out only a few minutes later and now snored softly, his head laying over the armrest in a way that would certainly give him a sore neck.

  Kat stared out at the swaying tree branches. It was beautiful here. The green walls of life surrounding the cabin relaxed her. Golden sunlight cascaded through the gaps in the whispering leaves and lit upon the flowers that bloomed across the forest floor. Their pleasant aromas filled the air and stirred with every new breeze. It felt good. Like the kind of place all pregnant women ought to be. A place where life could grow healthy and strong.

  She smiled. Suzzane, strange as she was, had made her feel better. It hadn’t happened easily. Her feelings had been torn between being agitated and comforted by the bizarre old woman. But the more she had thought about it, the more that she had let herself feel at ease. She had made a decision, and it was to trust the woman’s kindness and ignore her strangeness.

  Her decision brought her peace, at least as far as the old woman was concerned.

  A particularly loud snore rumbled from the front room, and Kat wished it could be so simple with her husband.

  Alex just didn’t seem to understand what was going on, and Kat didn’t feel like she could tell him everything, either. Even if she did, he still wouldn’t understand. She didn’t understand. The worry she’d seen in his face, when he’d caught her spinning the television set, made her feel ashamed—ashamed and frightened about what he might do about it. He’d already called and set up an appointment for her with some shrink. Could she trust that he wouldn’t have her institutionalized? He loved her, she knew that. But if he thought she was dangerous? A threat to herself? To him? She didn’t think she was, but she could also see why there might be room for doubt. She’d seen plenty of room for doubt when her reflection had gripped a knife in its hands. The thoughts made her smile fade.

  No, she thought. Suzzane said that everything would be alright.

  And why did that hold so much weight with her?

  She didn’t have an answer. She just knew that it did.

  Kat got up from the chair, dusting off her backside with a few quick pats. She needed a drink. Maybe she’d lay down for a nap afterward. Something about seeing Alex knocked out on the couch made her want to follow suit.

  Geegee snuffled about still, mostly invisible in the bushes, grasses, and ferns of the forest. Only her tail stuck out, wagging back and forth as she explored—almost like a shark’s dorsal fin cutting above the water. Kat decided to let her be, trusting her to not get into trouble while she rested.

  She downed a glass of water in the kitchen, then looked at Alex on the couch once more, wondering if there was room for her beside him. Probably not, she decided. She was about to just walk into the bedroom and nap on the bed when she paused, stopping to stare at the back of the television set, wondering.

  Suzzane had told her she just needed to relax. To take it easy. She just needed to believe that she was doing fine. Maybe....

  Maybe she could check the screen again? She felt fine, after all. If she were going insane, surely there would have been other things that were odd as well, and not just the television screen. Maybe the toaster talking to her?

  She almost laughed at the thought, but she didn’t.

  She had to check. Something in her had to know.

  She stepped up to the TV, grasped onto its corners, and spun it around. It scraped horribly, but when Kat glanced over her shoulder, she saw that Alex was still asleep—he’d just shifted slightly, tilting his head back even farther on the armrest and thrusting out his neck at an uncomfortable-looking angle. She felt relieved; she didn’t want him to catch her doing this.

  Without thinking anymore about it, Kat pulled the blanket away from the screen, only to be greeted with—

  her face.

  It was her face, alright. The one that Alex had fallen in love with. The one she’d had with her on her wedding day. The face that she’d presented to the world since her birth. The face that she had never truly seen, except as it was reflected off of mirrors or captured by cameras.

  She looked into her reflection for what felt like a long time, measuring the look in her eyes. Did she look like a madwoman? Was there a shade of insanity there? Suzzane had said that she needed to do something about a ‘dark aura,’ but exactly what that meant or what a person should do about one, she had no idea.

  Then her reflection finally did it. It moved on its own, smiling broadly at her, grinning wider than Kat believed she ever had. Instinctively, Kat dropped the blanket and let her hands fly to her own face—though whether it was to stifle a scream or to make sure that she wasn’t smiling, s
he didn’t know. But she didn’t scream, and there was no smile, and her reflections hands hadn’t moved in tandem with her own.

  Then her reflection stepped back from the screen, back so that her whole body became visible. Kat knew what she would see, knew that she didn’t want to see it, and yet waited to see it just the same: the reflected Kat held that glimmering kitchen knife in her hand. Then, to Kat’s horror, the reflection stopped above the sleeping reflection of Alex, his neck still thrust vulnerably out as if beckoning a blade.

  Kat dropped down to retrieve the blanket. She couldn’t watch. She had to cover the screen. But as she came back up with the blanket clutched between white fingers, she saw. A glimpse, a peek, the tiniest fraction of a look, but it was enough.

  Dark blood. Thrashing. Wreckage. Death throes.

  Then the blanket fell over the screen, and the scene was hidden once more. Kat lay against the television set in a cold sweat, panting. Terrified. She was losing it. Her grip on reality was slipping, wasn’t it?

  She felt woozy. Alex still lay on the couch, still sleeping. No blood staining everything, no knife handle protruding from his throat. Just peaceful sleep.

  She couldn’t do that—couldn’t sleep. She stumbled back outside, searching for a refuge from her worries, seeking a shelter from herself. Then she slumped back onto the chair, placed her face in her hands, and sobbed.

  What would she tell Alex?

  10

  Alex’s fork scooped up the last bit of macaroni and hot dog. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cheap and tasted good enough. Besides, as difficult as fancy cooking was in his own kitchen, he found it basically impossible in an ill-stocked rental like the cabin.

  But food is food.

  Kat sat across from him and ate much slower, doing more poking and prodding than actual consuming.