The Soulkeepers (10 page)

Jacob stared out the window at the blur of
trees racing through his reflection. He would just have to find
another way.

* * * * *

Four fifty-five Front Street was a
beautiful, brick, two-story. The Gupta residence, like all homes in
Paris, was enormous by Jacob's standards. Even without leaves on
the trees, the yard looked manicured and the house could have
appeared on a postcard.

John yelled through the window to call when
he wanted to be picked up and backed out of the driveway. Jacob
approached the house nervous about meeting Malini's parents. A gust
of wind blew the large American flag that flew from a brass pole
near the front door and the striped material swallowed him up.
After unwrapping himself, he rang the bell. Malini must have been
waiting by the door because it opened almost immediately.

"Jacob, come in. It's good to see you!"

Jacob stepped into the beige marble foyer,
his footsteps echoing off the cathedral ceiling and around the
crystal chandelier above his head. A man with stylish hair and a
black turtleneck extended his hand.

"Jacob, this is my father, Jahar. He goes by
Jim," Malini said.

"Malini, why don't you just introduce me as
Jim?" he said, shooting Malini a hard glare. "Hello Jacob. Welcome
to our humble abode."

Jacob returned the handshake, wondering if
he should call him Jim or Mr. Gupta. He decided on Mr. Gupta. It
seemed the most respectful.

"Malini told us about your accident. You
must be more careful next time. That eye looks terrible."

Jacob glanced at Malini and she lifted the
corner of her mouth. Well, if her story was that he was in an
accident, he wasn't going to argue.

"And this is my mother, Sarah," Malini
said.

"Hello, Jacob." Mrs. Gupta's accent was more
pronounced than her husbands. She wore the traditional long braid
and bindi he associated with Indian women. However, her manner of
dress was as American and sophisticated as her husbands: tan slacks
and a red sweater set. "We are so happy you could join us tonight.
Malini says you like Indian cuisine?"

"Yes!" Mr. Gupta chimed in, clapping his
hands. "What is this? I thought young people enjoyed hamburgers and
pizza but Malini insisted on an Indian meal."

"Yeah, I've been craving Indian food," Jacob
said. "I'm sure Malini has told you I grew up on Oahu. The food is
different here. I really miss the variety my mom used to make."

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Malini
asked, after Mrs. Gupta elbowed her in the side.

"Yes, thank you. Water would be great."

"While Sarah and Malini get the drinks, let
me take you on the tour," Mr. Gupta said.

The home was suspiciously vacant of anything
Indian. In fact, it was the most American home Jacob had ever seen.
Even the Launders had vases made in China and rugs from Pakistan.
The Gupta home was decorated entirely from items made in the
Americas. This was not something Jacob would have normally noticed
but Mr. Gupta made a point of it as they walked from room to room.
In the den, he showed off a small antique writing desk that was
used by Abraham Lincoln.

"Can you believe it, Jacob? Abraham Lincoln!
I couldn't be happier to have this in my house."

Malini, who had entered with the water,
looked at Jacob and rolled her eyes.

After some light conversation, the family
gathered around a long cherry table and Mrs. Gupta served the food.
There was yellow curry with chicken, lamb vindaloo, pineapple
chutney and mounds of jasmine rice. He ate like he hadn't seen food
in a month.

When dinner was over, Jacob followed Malini
through a glass-paneled door, down a flight of stairs, to a large
game room. A polished pool table was at the center of the room.
Behind it, he spotted a foosball table and ping-pong.

"Wow, your basement is awesome," Jacob
said.

But Malini turned to him at the base of the
stairs, a panicky look on her face. "Now tell me what happened
yesterday. What's going on with you?"

"I told you, I don't know. It was some
freak… weather coincidence."

Malini shook her head. "No. It wasn't. You
did it. You made it happen."

"No. I didn't."

"Then what happened, Jake? What explanation
could there possibly be?"

"I can't explain. Can we just forget about
it? To be honest, it gives me the creeps."

"No. We can't. You… hosed Dane and Phillip
to the wall. It was like you made the water move. Has anything like
this ever happened to you before?"

"No."

"Do you have a family history of controlling
the elements? Levitation maybe?

"You can't be serious."

"Okay, maybe I went overboard with the
levitation thing, but you can't honestly believe it was
nothing."

Jacob turned from her and walked deeper into
the room, resting his backside against the foosball table. He
crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"Listen, I've been in this town for two
years," Malini said. "It's like I told you: people who have been
here all their lives … it's like…"

"Like they have enough friends," Jacob
finished.

"Then you show up, out of nowhere, out of
the clear blue sky. And, I like you, Jake. I really like you. I
just can't help but think that fate brought us together for a
reason, you know?"

"I don't really believe in fate, but I like
you too. I'm glad we met."

"This, this miracle…"

"Coincidence," he interjected.

"Maybe I'm supposed to help you figure out
what it is, what it means."

"Maybe it was a fluke and doesn't mean
anything."

"So, you're sure, it never happened before
or since?"

"I'm sure. No."

"And, you haven't noticed any other unusual
abilities: superhuman speed, the ability to read minds…" She was
smiling but only half joking. Malini was so open and believing, her
eyes wide with utter confidence that something supernatural had
happened to them yesterday.

Jacob shook his head, a cynical grin on his
lips.

"What about any odd dreams?" Malini
asked.

His grin faded. He looked at the floor.

"That's it, isn't it? Dreams?" Malini shook
his arm excitedly.

"Not exactly. Before I came here, before I
met you, I was in a car accident. I've had some really vivid
hallucinations but the doctors told me I might. I hit my head and
they said I might see things or hear things. Some things that
happen in them, they seem to happen for real. But I know it's just
my subconscious working things out. It's just a coincidence that it
happens the way I hallucinate it."

"Or it could be a symptom. Maybe something
bigger is happening to you?"

"If I agree, can we talk about something
else?"

"For now." Malini looked disappointed.

Jacob walked over to the air hockey table
and switched it on. Malini fell in at the other side and served him
the puck. It took all of fifteen seconds for her to sink her first
goal.

"I guess you've probably noticed that my dad
really loves America," Malini said, serving the puck again.

"Yes, I've noticed." He grinned. "But
there's nothing wrong with that is there?"

"No, I guess not. It's just I wish we could
remember where we came from now and then. Do you know this was the
first Indian meal we've had in six months?"

"You're kidding. Why? The food was
spectacular."

"I know, right? It started with simple
excitement that we'd become US citizens. It's a real difficult
process and we were all ecstatic when it was official. "

"Congratulations."

"Thanks, but then Dad insisted that we act
like real Americans. I think part of it was this town. He needed to
be accepted here, for his business. He has, you know. He's very
successful. But the thing is, Jacob, we still have family in India.
I mean, I haven't lived there since I was six, so maybe I don't
know what I'm talking about, but…I mean, the food here, the
clothes, everything is different and not necessarily better."

Understanding swept through Jacob and would
change the way he saw Malini's family forever. He knew too well
what she meant. The irony was that both of them had been robbed of
their culture: he by the absence of his parents and her by their
presence. It wasn't that where they were was so bad; it was that
where they came from was important even when everyone else said it
wasn't.

"I'm sorry Malini, I bet India is
beautiful."

"It's not just India." She sighed. "It's
everywhere—everywhere I've been. It's part of who I am and I don't
want to forget it. I don't want to lose it, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I understand," he said.

Malini sunk another goal.

"So much for the possibility of superhuman
speed," he said.

Malini giggled.

"Would you like to see a dance I learned in
India? It's been a few years, well, almost a decade I guess, but I
think I remember."

"Sure."

Jacob sat back against the wall and Malini
pulled a couple of chairs to the side to clear a makeshift stage.
She placed a CD in a small player in the corner of the room and
took her position in the center of the cleared patch of rug, her
fingers delicately positioned near her shoulders.

As he heard the first sounds of a stringed
instrument, Malini's wrists began to roll. Her arms became snakes,
coiling around her sides. As the drumbeats joined the melody her
feet rose and stomped in a dance as beautiful and threatening as a
looming thunderstorm. Her hands twisted intricate circles around
her body, her back bending with the music, her hair sweeping
against her shoulders.

She was exotic—brown and lean. Most
importantly, she was open, as different and lost here as he was,
and for the first time since coming to Paris, he felt
connected.

Jacob stood. She was spinning but stopped
when she noticed him rise. The thick black layers of her hair
whipped against her neck and fell to her right shoulder. Her breath
came in huffs as she looked at him. There was a question in her
eyes that he couldn't read but he desperately wanted to be the
answer. He wanted to be the thing that made this world better for
her.

Without thinking, he reached for her hand.
Stopped. Reached again. He linked his finger into hers at an
awkward angle, fearful his sweaty palms would gross her out if he
held her hand properly. His heart thumped in his ears and his mouth
went dry. She walked towards his chest and on instinct Jacob moved
his other hand to the small of her back. Bending his neck in a
series of light but erratic movements, his lips came within a
fraction of an inch of hers. He waited. He wouldn't make the
decision. He wouldn't cross the line without her.

He didn't have to wait long. Malini rose up
on her tiptoes, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. Jacob
was more than happy to return the favor. Everything seemed to melt
away, the feel of her lips against his drowning out the world. He
wanted to remember every moment, every feeling. It was his first
kiss, but as she moved in closer and pressed her body into his,
Jacob hoped it wouldn't be their last.

The Other Garden

Jacob had never expected his punishment to
be so, well, punishing. After their first meeting resulted in tea
and a nap, he was disappointed that Dr. Silva was no longer
concerned if he looked tired. Nor did she ask him to talk. She
simply expected him to work.

The first two Saturdays he worked in the
greenhouse. He repotted saplings, watered row after row of plants,
and moved pots around for no apparent reason but Dr. Silva's whim.
When he was done, his back ached and his fingers were permanently
stained. The working conditions were humid and cramped.

That was child's play compared to this.

The pile of compost in front of him was
three feet high and smelled like mushrooms. Jacob watched bits of
brown crud blow off the top and swirl in the air around him.
Although the sun was shining, the wind cut through his gray hoodie
and chilled him to the bone. It was six o'clock on Saturday morning
and his workday had officially begun.

"Add another two inches of this to each of
the raised beds and rake it in," Dr. Silva said and handed him a
shovel.

Jacob responded by hoisting the wheelbarrow
and heading toward the half acre of sixteen-foot long cedar
rectangles. He wasn't afraid of the work and the faster he'd start,
the sooner he'd finish.

"When you're finished, I have something else
in the greenhouse for you to do," she said, leaning casually
against a garden bench. Gideon rested atop the back of the bench
flicking his fluffy red tail, as Dr. Silva's long nails
compulsively raked the cat's neck and shoulders.

Jacob began shoveling. As cool as it was, it
didn't take him long to work up a sweat and by the time he headed
back to the pile to refill the wheelbarrow, he was tempted to take
off his sweatshirt. He paused when he noticed that Dr. Silva was
still watching him.

"Am I your entertainment, too?" he asked.
Since their first meeting, when he'd had tea with her, she didn't
have the same effect on him as before. She was still as beautiful
but his skin didn't tingle when he saw her and her eyes didn't cut
quite so deep. But it was awkward having someone watch him shovel.
If she wasn't going to help, the least she could do was not
stare.

"Well, looks like you've got everything
under control here," she said, an edge to her voice as if his
comment had caught her off guard. She dusted her hands off against
the sides of her cargo pants. "I have some things to do in the
orchard. I'll check back with you later about the work in the
greenhouse."

Jacob was relieved when she finally left.
She wandered off into the maple trees, the big red cat following
close behind.