by G. P. Ching
Chapter 18
No One Said Anything About Shots
Jacob’s theory that Dr. Silva would take it easy on him because he knew about Oswald proved false, and he found himself sweating over some disgusting horticultural task every Saturday morning. It was just such a day, when he was weeding the seedling tomato plants in the raised beds, that Dr. Silva approached him with a smile that showed a few too many teeth.
“June tenth is just around the corner.”
“Yes, I know. I’m excited to go.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure. But there are preparations to be made.” She was standing with her hands behind her back.
He stopped digging and dusted the dirt from his pants. “What kind of preparations?”
“Roll up your sleeve.”
“Why?”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, just do it. Would it kill you to trust me just this once?”
Since she put it that way, he rolled up his sleeve. No sooner had he pulled his hand away than hers shot out and grabbed his bare shoulder. Jacob barely saw the glint of the needle before she thrust it into his muscle like a dart and pressed the plunger. It was over before he could say, “Owww.”
“We are traveling to the Amazon. Immunizations—just in case.” She held up the empty syringe.
“You could have just asked me,” he said, rubbing his arm.
“It hurts more if you can see it coming, or so I am told.”
“You’ve never had a shot, have you?” he asked.
“Don’t need them,” she said.
“I don’t suppose you are going to tell me why?”
“It’s not important. What is important is that we make all of the preparations for our trip.”
“Okay. What else do I need to do?”
“Get a passport.”
“I don’t remember Oswald asking for a passport when he sent me to Africa.”
“Jacob, this isn’t like climbing on an airplane. It isn’t a tested form of transportation for humans. If something happens to me, or we find ourselves in a place with no trees, you have to have a way to get back into the country.”
“As luck would have it, I already have a passport. My mom always said it was important, just in case. What else?”
“We will have to stay overnight.”
“Huh? Why?”
“We need the medicine woman to dream. There is a ceremony that has to be performed. This can only happen at night. The Achuar people are a culture steeped in tradition.”
“So, what do I tell the Laudners?”
“I will tell John you are helping me do some research on a new species of plant and the procedure needs to be performed over twenty-four hours. I think he will allow you to stay. I can be very persuasive.” She lowered her chin and looked at him through her lashes.
Jacob’s heart skipped a beat and he internally slapped himself.
He thought about the ruse. It was a good story but not true. Over the last couple of weeks he’d gotten to know his Uncle John and lying to him suddenly felt wrong. He knew he couldn’t tell him the truth but he wished he didn’t have to lie. He wouldn’t have had a problem lying to Aunt Carolyn or Katrina. They still treated him like an unwanted pet.
“I’m glad you are asking. I don’t think I can lie to him.”
“You are the loyal sort aren’t you? Well, whatever works. I will ask him soon so that we don’t have any problems on the tenth. I don’t want John to come looking for you. That could be a disaster.”
“Okay. Shots, passport, permission for overnight,” he recited. “Anything else?”
“No. Just dress appropriately for the jungle,” she said.
Jacob turned back to his work but soon the weight of her stare became distracting. “Is there something else?” he asked.
She ran her nails through Gideon’s bushy red hair. “It’s time for your first lesson.”
Jacob rolled his eyes. That was the deal: a trip to see the medicine woman in exchange for going along with this delusion that he was a Soulkeeper. “What do I need to do?”
“Let’s worry about what you need to know first, then we’ll move on to do.” She began to pace up and down the row between the flat beds. “There are people all over the world that work for good, ordinary people that do extraordinary things in the name of God. But there are also people like you. You and the others of your kind are not normal people. Your bodies are different because your blood is different. Your parents gave you abilities beyond the average human.” Dr. Silva was digging through a pile of gardening supplies. She pulled out a large bowl-shaped liner, the kind she used in the planters at the front of the house.
“There are three types of gifts that Soulkeepers possess. There are Helpers, like me, who use their power to help others. This could mean anything from gathering weapons to helping someone learn about their gifts. For instance, training you. Every Helper has a specialty, and as you may have guessed, mine is horticulture.”
“Yeah, horticulture on steroids,” he quipped.
She handed him the bowl and walked to the side of the house. “Other gifted ones are called Horsemen. They are warriors. They fight evil by physical force, when all other interventions have failed. They are soldiers for God. King David, from history, was a Horseman. So was Moses.” Pausing, she took a long look at Jacob, giving him the distinct impression she was sizing him up. “And then there are Healers. Healers are very rare. I’ve only ever met one personally—the medicine woman. They are the ones that can tell good from evil.”
Jacob laughed. “Since when did it become a gift to tell good from evil?”
“Since the devil became the lord of illusions. It’s very easy to do evil deeds when you are trying to do good.”
“Hmm.” He leaned against the garden bench and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Healers are leaders because they know what direction will lead to the greater good. Not only can they heal people physically, they can heal situations—solve problems. Noah was a Healer. He had to solve the problem of the Ark, of how to heal mankind.” She smiled down at him.
“So, which one am I?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet, but we are going to find out,” she replied. Reaching out, she squeezed his upper arm at the place where she’d given him the injection.
“Owww!” he yelled and pulled away.
“You’re not a Healer. If you were, that would have been healed by now. Tell me what you used in your fight against that boy at the grocery store.”
Jacob remained silent for a minute or two, rubbing his shoulder. If he said it out loud he’d be admitting that some part of him believed he had caused the water to move. He wouldn’t be able to tell himself it was a coincidence anymore. Of course, he hadn’t believed it was a coincidence since the incident with Dane and the water fountain at school, but he’d never fully owned up to the power.
“Water,” he said.
“Ah, as I thought. Let’s begin.”
She pulled a hose from the side of the house and filled up the bowl that was already in his hands.
“How did you know?” he said, staring at the bowl that she had handed him long before his confession.
“I didn’t. I only suspected because of where and when the fight took place.”
Once the water was turned off and the last drops had left concentric circles in the bowl, the liquid settled in his hands, calm and clear. Nothing happened.
“Now concentrate, Jacob.”
“On what? What exactly am I supposed to be trying to do here?”
Dr. Silva rubbed her chin. Her mouth pulled into a pout that was so attractive Jacob had to look away.
“Ask the water to point out evil.”
He opened his mouth but Dr. Silva held up her hand.
“Not with your voice. With your mind.”
Jacob closed his eyes and pretended to play along. He was sure he couldn’t make the water move again but didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Silva. Not thinking about the water proved to
be harder than he expected. Behind his closed lids he saw the scene in the parking lot, the water flowing out of the puddle, between his feet, toward Dane. He saw that afternoon at school when he’d saved himself from Dane using the water fountain. Why had the water done that? How had the water done that?
A familiar hum vibrated in his hands. The water shifted in the bowl. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to see the liquid spinning like a whirlpool, splashing over the edge. He concentrated on two words: find evil. The water slowed, then shifted to one side of the bowl, defying gravity.
The water pointed at Dr. Silva.
“Good, good!” she said. “Yes, I am in fact the closest thing to evil in the vicinity. That means it’s working!”
Jacob frowned. “What are you?”
“Not now, Jacob. All in good time. We are just starting to make progress. But pointing out evil could mean anything. We need to know more. Now, ask the water to jump into your hand. Think of a weapon. Pretend you want to destroy me,” she said, grinning as if the idea of him destroying her was preposterous.
Gideon, however, did not seem amused. Leaping between Dr. Silva and Jacob, he crouched and showed his teeth.
“Oh, Gideon, please!” she said with a small laugh. She picked the cat up and cradled it against her chest. “Let’s go, Jacob. Show me what you’ve got.”
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Dr. Silva attacking him. The water moved again in the bowl, but all he could produce was a harmless splash that drenched his hand. “This is ridiculous. If I am truly a Soulkeeper, shouldn’t I be able to walk on this stuff?” He threw down the bowl and turned his back to her. The water seeped into the ground.
“You have gifts from God, but you are not God. You just need to figure out how to use the power you’ve been given. There’s always a trigger, something that allows you to access what’s within you. You just need to find it.”
“Right,” he said, cynically. “And the purpose of these gifts would be what?”
All humor drained from Dr. Silva’s face.
“To fight the Watchers,” she said. “To stop the evil ones from taking human souls.” Her lips were a straight line and her eyes as sad as Jacob had ever seen them.
“Who are the Watchers?”
“Evil creatures that thrive on the destruction of humanity. They are called Watchers because they are lazy creatures who sit back and watch the universe unfold, waiting until a person is at their most vulnerable before moving in and destroying them. Under the western world’s lexicon, you would know them as fallen angels.”
Jacob, who’d been listening intently up to that point, slapped his forehead with his palm. “You’re crazy. You have had one too many cups of your own tea.” He started walking toward the gate.
“It’s in the Bible, Jacob. The Archangel Michael cast Lucifer and his followers from heaven and they fell to Earth. It’s right there in Genesis. ‘The sons of God saw the daughters of men and took of them all that they chose.’ They never left and it’s up to us to hold them back, to keep them from wrecking all of God’s creation all over again.”
“Again?” Jacob stopped halfway out of the gate, the wrought-iron latch carving a groove into his palm.
“Your first assignment is to read a Bible,” she snapped. “Lessons continue next week. Don’t be late.”
The gate slammed behind him. He didn’t say goodbye.