The Good Samaritan - Chapter 4
"Auntie, this dinner was fantastic," said Marc. Proving his point he leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Spread out on the table before him lay pots of mashed potatoes, bowls of vegetables, a basket of rolls and finally a golden brown turkey. From the kitchen the smell of cookies and pies floated in on the warm air to the small dining room. The other humans, still finishing their meals nodded in agreement.
Autumn Gusting Wind had truly outdone herself. Between food on the table and still in the kitchen she could have fed a party twice their size and still have leftovers. Marc wondered how she had found time to create so much food. The middle-aged woman with curly red hair beamed at Marc's and his companions praises.
"Thank you, Marc," said Autumn gently. She looked over her other guests, still smiling. "I've got two pies cooling in the kitchen. Shall I get them?"
"Oh no rush, ma'am," said Paul patting his stomach, "need time to digest. The human stomach wasn't meant to take in this much food."
Autumn looked over the table at all the food she made and warmly blushed. "I suppose I went a little overboard. I always had the same problem when I was on Singing World."
Her statement caused several of the humans around the table to stare at her in open confusion. Marc cleared his throat and explained, "Before Autumn came here she was a bat in another world the Souls run, they call it the Singing World."
"A bat?" asked Nancy.
"Well, kind of like a bat, right Auntie?" answered Marc.
Autumn looked thoughtful, "Yes, a bit like bats here on Earth, but larger."
Tim's eyes were large as he peppered her with questions, "Could you fly? You were a cook there? Why's it called Singing World? What did you eat?"
"Mind your manners, child," intoned Sister Mary-Margret, "Don't badger Autumn with so many questions."
But the Soul smiled at Tim, "I don't mind explaining…Marc used to ask me dozens of questions about my previous lives." She settled back into her chair and began, "We called it Singing World because the air was full of songs, all the time. That is how we communicated, but much more than words you use in this world. The songs were greetings and goodbyes, poetry and news, and laughter and chatter all rolled into one. A whole world covered in songs.
"Wow," breathed Tim.
Autumn continued, "And yes I could fly though I suppose I wasn't terribly graceful compared to some. I was…well there is no human word for it exactly…a food gatherer. I would harvest and prepare the food our Hosts needed to eat. It was a type of fruit, a bit like a melon. I was good at my calling, always had more than we could eat."
"You're an excellent cook here as well," spoke up Greg, "Can't remember the last time we had a meal this good."
"Don't let Dell hear you say that," said Paul with a warning smile to his son.
Greg opened his mouth to reply to his father, but the ring of the telephone interrupted him. All the humans in the room tensed at the unexpected interruption. Marc looked to Autumn who was already getting up to answer the phone and asked quietly, "Were you expecting a call?"
"No, I shall see who it is," said the Soul serenely. She picked up the receiver and said, "Hello, this is Autumn Gusting…" But she got no further as the voice on the other side of the phone cut her off. Marc couldn't make out the words, but whoever it was on the other end of the phone was talking at a very rapid pace.
With a somewhat pained look, Autumn held the phone out to Marc. "It's Eric, he wants to speak to you."
Confusion on Marc's face became replaced with worry as he took the phone and began listening to his fellow human. Around the table the mood grew tense. Apprehension replacing the earlier celebration. Then Marc's words cut into the stillness like a knife. "Eric, slow down…what do you mean Scott is missing?"
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Snow was already beginning to drift into the broken window by the time Scott made his way to the car. He once again looked around but saw nobody around. It seemed impossible that no one had noticed the crash, but with the late hour and the worsening weather all the Souls had retreated to their homes, leaving this area deserted.
The woman was still unmoving in the car as Scott approached. Her head rested on the dashboard and a few of her stray blond locks danced around in the wind. Scott could make out a dark patch of blood in her hair. Touching her gingerly, he carefully rolled her head to one side. He grimaced at the large gash on her forehead and the blood covering half her face. Bringing his fingers to her neck he could detect a pulse, she was alive - for now.
Scott looked her over for other injuries but didn't see anything else. He noticed the thin line of a scar on her neck – an insertion scar from the Soul being implanted in her body. 'Of course she's a Soul, dummy,' he angrily thought to himself. The question was - what should he do?
'Easy answer – nothing,' Scott told himself. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath of the icy air. 'Run away and get back to killing yourself,' the thought made him feel ill. So what did he want? Getting involved in any way would only put everyone at risk. She was the enemy and he owed her nothing. If he left now his tracks would be covered in minutes and no one would ever know he was here. But the odds of her being found with the rate the snow was coming down were dropping fast. Save her? Ridiculous, even if we got her out of the car and up the hill, where could he take her? The minute he stepped into a Soul hospital he would be scrutinized and found out far too fast. He had not bothered with getting a set of contacts when he set out on his half-crazy journey.
But he kept coming back to the woman, the injured Soul lying in the car. 'Save her,' the idea did not have the feeling of complete despair like his first option of suicide. His mind did not retreat from the idea, but still what would it matter, saving one Soul.
"Whoever saves one soul, saves the world entire."
Scott opened his eyes and realized he had spoken out loud. He remembered the line from the Talmud, remembered hearing his father deliver the verse during service at the Synagogue. His father's words. His father was dead, Scott understood it, accepted it. But his father's words lived on in him. Now, in the middle of a snow storm, these words gave Scott his needed clarity. He looked back at the woman, the Soul and nodded his head.
"Oh what the hell…" said Scott and opened the car door.
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"Maybe I should come with you," said Autumn Gusting Wind softly as Marc finished putting his winter clothing back on, "We can both look for Scott that way." Marc paused as he began zipping his jacket up and considered Auntie's idea. There was merit in her suggestion but while Autumn would have no issues passing in the city as a Soul, she was not one to lie. And if anyone asked her why she was out at this hour and in this weather, she would have to spin a story. She had reluctantly lied for them before, and it wasn't something Marc often wanted her to do.
He shook his head, "No, Autumn, please stay here. If Scott ends up coming here, it would be best if you were around. Or if anyone else stops by, better you answer the door then the rest of us."
She pursed her lips and Marc could tell this would be a rare time she was going to argue with him. "Please," he said gently, "I can move quickly on my own and I'm going to travel through our passageways looking for Scott. It's not a place you can comfortably go Auntie."
Autumn looked down at her short, plump body and frowned at its limitations. She reached over and pulled herself into a hug with Marc. She whispered to Marc, "My little stray, this is dangerous. Please…Please be careful."
He hugged her back, "I know…I will. I promise." He paused a moment, trying to recall how to do this next part exactly. Marc put his mouth to Autumn's ear and warbled a soft set of notes. He could feel her stiffen as he said her name as a Bat would.
Marc pulled back and grinned, "Did I get it right?"
She smiled at his effort. "Umm…No. Please don't feel bad. Human vocal cords aren't made to sing like a Bat." She sighed softly and added, "But I understand your meaning. Safe journeys Marc, and may you find Scott safely."
Marc nodded and finished dressing for the outside. The others had gathered in the hallway and he could see they all shared the same nervous look. He smiled reassuringly, "Look, Scott most likely went off to sulk somewhere. I know his usual places, I'll find him. Meanwhile, enjoy Christmas."
Mary-Margret gave him a shrewd look, not buying his lie. But she turned and smiled at the rest, "Yes, let's not spoil the evening. Autumn, I believe you had some pies cooling in the kitchen, shall I help you with them?"
Autumn and the remaining Humans turned back and returned to the dining room. As Marc exited the house, he could hear Tim gush, "Oh…pie, what kind?" He closed the door and turned into the growing snow storm. He stepped down from the porch and pulled his jacket tight about him as the cold night wind blew. His mood darkening with every step he took.