The Soul Seekers (18 page)

I snorted.

“Don’t laugh, they’ll think you’ve lost your mind along with losing your memory.”

I gave him a ‘ha, ha that is so funny’ look.

“Try this, Emma. Try to talk to me using your thoughts. I’m an angel, remember? You don’t have to speak out loud.”

Can you hear me?

Beautifully.

Did you really push your sister in front of that car?

No.

I traced his neck with a soft finger.
It’s funny, the second I saw the headline, I knew it was a lie.

You’re too trusting.

Only with you.

With everyone. You should be mindful of these things. I won’t always be around, you know.

I know, I know.

If I could stay with you forever, I would. But, the way fate has placed us, I’m more of a danger to you than an aid.

I tried to figure that one out, in vain.

William, you’ve already made it clear that angels and humans can’t . . .

Never.

I’m not talking about us, of course.

Of course.

But humans and angels. What’s wrong with them loving each other?

It’s an abomination that would ruin the pure relationship of guidance we’re sent to provide. You see? No angel would ever get their job done if we all fell in love with our subjects.

It’s a stupid law.

Sure is.

I hate following stupid laws.

Don’t we all.

Stop making so much sense!

I moved my fingers to his cheek, and spread them out until his face was cupped gently in my hand. His eyes flitted closed, opened and stayed open as if under difficult command.

Have you ever kissed a girl?

A beautiful one.

Did you love her?

The thought came through very quiet.
Yes.

Where is she now? Is she still alive?

He wouldn’t answer. Typical.

This Jesse guy told me that he and I are going to be living together.

I already saw it in your head. He’s too cunning, that boy.

Tell me what I should do. I can’t just go off and live with a complete stranger, can I?

He thought about this long and hard, but the words went by so fast they were unreadable by my untrained brain. Finally, he let go of a legible answer.
There isn’t much time, and he has it all planned out perfect—I can see. Yes, I think you should go with him.
I felt his body tense up.

I don’t think I love him.

You don’t have to.

I may be a blank slate, but that sounds awfully crude. An angel telling me to go off with a guy I don’t love? What the hell?

He let go of a laugh—deep and throaty.
Just like you, dear Emma. What am I to do?

Nothing. I’m going to stay here with you. I don’t care about being safe.

He sat up in the bed, causing the sheets to rise sharply. I jerked up my knee to make it look natural.

You don’t have a say in this! I told you no questions. We’ll never be together; we’ll never love. You get to live, and I’ll fade away happy in that knowledge. Understand?

Our eyes met in a long glare. His face was only a few inches above mine, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t get the image of his lips—how warm and soft they looked—out of my brain.

I gave up, frustrated.
No,
I don’t understand. Will you at least tell me about the visions I had earlier? I want to know more about the coin.

He moved down next to me again.
Glad you’re asking. You saw what it looked like, and what we need to do now is help you regain some of your memories to retrieve it. And then . . .

Yes?

I want you to give it to Jesse.

Why did his words set up a panic inside my gut? I met his eyes and blinked against the resolute position of his stare.

I don’t think I can find it. Anyway, the vision you showed me was kind of blurry.

No, Emma. You saw it very clear. You must find the coin and give it to him. Remember, no questions.

I don’t like any of this. There’s something wrong, William. Won’t you help me to understand?

He paused, taking a moment to look into my eyes again, smoothing my hair with a gentle touch.
Everything I do is to benefit you. You have to trust me.

I started to melt again, a peaceful wave taking over the fear and stress of the past few days.
I do trust you. I think I love you—it feels like I always have. Does that make any sense?

Sleep.

It’s like I’ve known you before, but not as an angel.
I felt his body tighten.
I don’t know how I could ever live without you being near me.

You will. You’re tough, Emma. Remember that.
When my time is through, you’ll be happy and live a long life the way you were meant to. Without me.

A tear wound itself down one cheek. He drew his hand out to catch it before it dropped down onto the sheet. It took him forever to speak again.

Someday, I’ll be nothing more to you than a memory, a touch of wind in this long, golden hair of yours. But, you’ll be alive, Emma, you’ll be alive. That’s all that I care about.

I searched his eyes forever, yet found it impossible to derive anything out of their tangled mess of sadness and confusion.
His tear-drenched finger caressed my cheek in a soft pattern, causing my eyes to close in contentment.

Yes, Emma. Sleep.

“That’s not very far off. I’ll have to think about it.”

“No time to think. Just trust me and I’ll make all the arrangements, okay?”

Deciding I was hungry after all, I ripped open the candy bar: melted chocolate with gooey nougat inside. “Why is it that I know what a Three Musketeers is, but I can’t remember any human on this earth?”

“Don’t ask me, honey. Just work with it.”

“Pfft. That’s easy for you to say—you know me, but
I
don’t know me. My head is pounding, everything aches, and the whole world is like a big mystery ball waiting to be shaken.”

“That would suck.”

“It does.” I laughed at his easygoing attitude, and took a bite of messy candy bar before speaking again. “You’re funny.”

“Better than TV.”

“Much. I can see why I’d want to move in with you. I mean, you’re hot, you seem nice. Only. . . .”

“What?”

“You make me want to barf.”

“Explain, please!”

“Something about you makes me on edge, and yeah, kind of nauseated.”

He leaned back, trying to look relaxed. “Hmm, I wonder if you’ve been holding in that little secret the whole time we’ve known each other?”

I shrugged.

“Because, it’s very important that you trust me in every way, Emma. Very.”

A flash of something forged through my brain, dragging a blade of affliction with it. I’d heard his words another time, I realized. The same speech, the same conviction. Our eyes met. “You’ve said something like that before, I think.”

He looked nervous and sat forward, arms on knees. “You think so?”

“Mm-hmm.” Black loss crept in. “And now it’s gone.”

“Geez, I’ll have to watch what I say from now on.”

“Sounds like you don’t want me to remember.”

“Of course I do. God. Don’t be paranoid. I just don’t want you to get everything back too fast and get messed up with an overload of information, you know.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.” I bit my lip.

“And I don’t want you to worry about things. Relax, Emma. I brought you something else.”

“What?”

He reached in his jacket and pulled out a pack of cards. “The poor man’s ticket to prosperity. Remember anything about poker?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Well, then you’re about to be taught by the best. Luck, skill, and lies, my friend.” He cut the cards, all the while blazing those dark brown eyes at me, a daring raise of his brow creating the perfect effect of wicked master about to taint the innocent.

And so it began—our nightly session of every kind of poker game you can think of—Texas hold ’em, open draw, five card stud. I was a quick learner, something he seemed to appreciate. Jesse was funny, he made me laugh, and I was happy to have him around. He helped me to forget, after the painful sun went down, the loneliness that permeated my soul. I couldn’t tell him the reason I needed him, or how much I feared night. Our connection was unspoken, natural, primal and I could tell he was desperate in the same kind of way.

After day six, I was allowed to get up and walk. The first thing I did was go straight to the mirror and take a good long look at the bandaged monster. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. The girl reflected in the silvery glass was still human-looking despite the little scars on her cheeks and forehead and arms and legs. Her long hair needed a good brushing, but it still shined golden along tan shoulders.

Every day my family came to visit, but the concern grew on their faces with the continued absence of any memories. The mom looked on edge, always on the verge of saying something, but never reaching beyond the general platitudes of conversation. We talked of the weather, what food I’d eaten that day, how was I feeling, was I comfortable? I liked her, but she was a stranger just like everybody else. I asked if I could call her by her first name, Pauline, and she said yes, though she never really looked very comfortable when I did. So I kept calling her Mom.

Each evening before sundown—and before Jesse showed up with his cards—my angel William would climb into bed with me and wrap his arms around my shivering body. It seemed like I could never get warm enough, not until he was holding me, that is. And then, it was as if I was in the midst of the warmest lake, on the most heavenly beach in Hawaii. I began to wonder how it was possible that God could create a world of divorce and lost loves, yet here I was, happy with one of his best creations. But I couldn’t have William, and it didn’t seem quite fair.

I became restless. Especially on the afternoon my family was due to come in to celebrate my birthday.
Birthday
. I couldn’t make myself care about or feel its importance. I was on edge. William had not shown up that morning, and I was worried. Was this it? Had our time run out now that I was finally heading home? Not yet! I screamed to the heavens. He’s my angel. Mine.

Getting out of bed, I went to sit in his chair and in a second I heard familiar footsteps.

He cleared his throat and came to kneel in front of me with a pile of objects in his hands. “Happy birthday, Emma.”

“For me?” I breathed quick, hiding my relief. “Guess I should be celebrating, huh?” A whole life lay ahead, but William wasn’t going to be in it. “You shouldn’t have.”
I only want you.

“A radio.” He held it up for me to see before placing it in my lap. “Some books—sorry, they’re all men’s spy fiction.”

I took them and tossed each one behind me with a comical look. William laughed. “Okay. Umm, here’s a magazine about teen fashion. You don’t need it, but it was all I could find. And this is, well what is it?” He held up a box of something, opening it carefully. “Pastels and graphite art pencils. Oh and here’s an art pad.” He pulled that out from his back waistline. “You like to draw and I thought this would help you to get some of the old Emma back.”

That was really thoughtful of him. Angels were so gosh-darned perfect. “But where did you get all of this?”

“There’s a gift shop down the hall.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

“Nope.”

“It is kind of. Thou shall not steal.”

“Shalt. And anyway, it’s for a good cause.”

“Oh, I see. It’s okay to break a cardinal rule, but when a mere human has a request it isn’t allowed?”

“That’s right.”

“Humph.” I grabbed the radio and turned it on, finding mostly static.

“Here, let me. It’s an old transistor; I actually found it in the waiting room. You have to really maneuver the antenna around. Also, it’s only AM—wow, this thing is old.” He looked up at me. “Well, not
old.
I used to have one of these.”

My ears pricked up. Finally I was getting some information about his time as a human. “William, tell me more about your life before you became an angel.”

He continued to fiddle around with the radio, meeting tons of static. “Just an ordinary guy. Liked to read, liked to write. I was a dreamer. Nothing too special.”