Soulshine (19 page)

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Authors: J W Rocque

BOOK: Soulshine
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Evan stepped out of the bus and immediately smelled the wonderful combined scents of clam cakes, caramel popcorn and cotton candy. He observed parents and children, all laughing and having a good time. Hedidn"t care to partake in any of the food or games. He just wanted to observe the happiness. He smiled at the families as he walked past them. He not only looked nineteen, he felt nineteen. He liked feeling his physiological age instead of his biological age.

Being mindful of everything he put into his body, after a couple of hours he decided to give the clam chowder a try. As he paid for his cup of chowder, one of the coins from his pocket fell to the ground. When he turned to go, a little girl stood there with his coin raised up toward him.

“Excuse me, mister. You dropped a quarter.”

Evan looked down and got a strange feeling. He was looking at a girl that couldn"t have been more than eight years old, yet there was something about her eyes. They seemed to project a purity and honesty that touched his heart. “Thank you. That was nice of you. I"m sure that quarter could have bought you somethingnice around here. I"ll tell you what… for your honesty, you can keep the quarter as a reward.”

Before the girl could thank Evan, her father walked over to them.“Come here. I told you to stay with us…”
“Please,” said Evan. “Don"t be upset with her. She saw me drop a coin so she picked it up to give it to me. You have obviously taught her wellabout being honest. She"s a lovely little girl.”
“Yes, Daddy,” said the girl, “and look… the man let me have the quarter. Can I get something in the arcade with it?”
“I suppose you can. But please do not leave my side again, do you understand?”
“Thanks for not scolding her,” said Evan. “I would have felt somewhat responsible. I… can"t really explain it, but there"s something about her that… tells me that she"s… very special. It"s… in her eyes and her smile.”
The father looked at Evan skeptically.“Thank you. She…
is
a good girl. I just need to keep an eye on her all the time.”

X
December 15, 1983

John made his way around to the ambulatory entrance with his heart beating as fast as his mind was racing. “Excuse me,” he said toone of the attendants. “Can you tell me something?”

“Sir, you should not be here. This entrance is for ambulance drivers and paramedics only.”
“I just need to know if you are made aware in advance as to which patient is arriving. I… I"m a friend of a man named Evan Troy, and I promised him I"d be here for him.”
“Did you say Evan Troy?”
“Yes… yes.”
“The driver just dispatched to us. He will be in the very next ambulance… within a few minutes… but you cannot wait here.”
“That"s okay. At least I know he will be arriving shortly. I"ve… been so nervous. I"ll enter by the main entrance and wait until he"s able to have visitors. Thank you very much, sir.”
John left the ambulatory entrance and made his way just around the corner where he would not be seen. He tried to calm his racing heart but could not.
I need to act fast

just in case Michelle happens to be close behind… but now that’s she’s free of him… who knows? She may be using this opportunity to get away from him for good. She’s the last person who needs to witness this.
He hid his pistol, with silencer attached, in his overcoat sleeve. His finger was on the trigger. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face.
The ambulance entered the lot, turned around, and proceeded to back up to the entrance. As the vehicle came to a halt, the driver looked over at Michelle, who was sound asleep, exhausted from worry during the ride.
Let the little honey rest
.
What a sweet little thing
.
Oh well… it’s show time.
The driver opened his door and went to the rear of the vehicle. He opened the doors. John struggled to get a clear view. A paramedic was in the back, crouched beside a gurney with a white sheet covering it. The driver latched the left rear door to a hook on the side of the vehicle while the paramedic came out to do the same with the door on the right. John walked swiftly toward the open doors and extended the sleeve of his overcoat toward the white sheet. He maintained a safe distance while firing a bullet at the white sheet. He then hid behind a pillar as the paramedic, who heard a whizzing sound, looked inside the vehicle. “Down!” he said to the driver as he noticed the bullet hole in the sheet. “Someone is shooting at us!”
The attendants who were coming out to assist were stunned to hear the words coming out of the paramedic"s mouth. “Someone has a gun! Take cover!”
The commotion awoke Michelle, who soon realized that she had arrived at their destination. She got out of the ambulance and saw people panicking and taking cover. The driver and paramedic took cover in front of the vehicle while the attendant cried, “They left the door open! The patient is still in there! He may have been shot!”
“Shot?” Michelle cried. “I"ve got to see him!”
“Out of the way, little girl!” yelled the attendant. “We need to close the door so he"ll be safe. There"s a nut on the loose!”
Michelle reached the rear of the vehicle before the attendant. “Not until I"m in there with him!” she screamed. “Evan, I"m right here. Are you okay?”
Michelle saw the sheet but did not see Evan"s face at the head of the gurney. “Evan?” Then she slowly tugged on the sheet to expose more of him. The sight of what she saw next paralyzed her with fear, for there was no semblance of Evan underneath… just a pile of ashes… dust.
After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Michelle let out an anguished scream, a mixture of tears and horror. John heard his daughter"s cry and stepped out from his hiding place. As Michelle stepped backwards out of the ambulance, John"s hand rested on her shoulder. She turned in a fright and exclaimed, “Dad!”
“It"s okay, sweetheart. It"s all over now. You can come home. He won"t do anything to you ever again.”
Michelle noticed that her father"s right hand was concealed inside his overcoat sleeve. “Dad? Dad, what is inside your sleeve? Oh my God, is that a…? No! You… you killed him! You killed him! You killed him!” Michelle"s tirade became inaudible as she became hysterical. She pulled away fromher father"s hand and ran toward the safety of the entrance. Two security officers grabbed John from behind and subdued him. Soon three police cruisers pulled up, as the paramedic"s first acknowledgment of a gunshot caused someone to call the authorities.
Michelle could not talk to the police. She could not even utter a word. She just kept babbling incoherently as she could not shake the image of Evan"s ashes from her mind. The only explanation was that her father"s bullet had created the wound that finally completed the decomposition of Evan"s ancient body. Nurses came over to attempt to calm her down. No one else had a clue as to what had just transpired. The attendants stared at the pile of ashes on the gurney and no one made a move to remove the gurney from the ambulance.
“Let me go,” protested John. “I didn"t kill anybody. Look… there"s nobody on that gurney.”
“You"re coming with us,” said one of the officers. “It would be best if you come peacefully.”
“You"re arresting me? On what charge?”
“Attempted murder and illegal possession of a firearm in a public place. Now get in the car.”
“Attempted murder? Of whom? A pile of ashes? Surely you don"t think one shot reduced a human being to ashes!”
“We have no idea why there wasn"t a patient on the gurney, but you may have been trying to kill the driver or the paramedic. You fired a gun in a public place in the vicinity of people. That sounds like attempted murder to us. Now… get in the car!”
“Wait… wait! Can I just talk to my daughter? I… haven"t seen her in years. I… was only trying to protect
her
.”
“From the pile of ashes? You said yourself that there is nobody there.”
John bowed his head. “My daughter was kidnapped years ago by Evan Troy. He brainwashed her. He forced her to stay with him. For God"s sake… he drugged her and kept her from getting older. Look at her. She looks like she"s thirteen… but she"s twenty-nine… soon to be thirty!”
“So now you"re trying to plead insanity, are you? All right… I"m really five years old and my partner"s six years old, but we"re
still
going to haul your ass tojail. Now… for the last time… get your ass in the squad car!”
“Go ahead… have a good laugh. This Evan Troy scumbag has been ravaging this earth as a predator for over two thousand years, okay?”
As the police pushed John into the squad car, Michelle finally got her articulation back for a moment and approached the car. “Honey,” said John. “Go home. Go to your mother. Or wait for meand I"ll drive you home. There"s no way these cops are going to keep me. I didn"t kill anybody.”
“Dad… even if you
did
get out of jail, there is no way I"d go home to you. And I can"t go back to Mom now because
you
may end up going back home, and I don"t ever want to see you again. I… don"t even know if
I
want to live anymore. You took everything away from me.”
John was speechless as the officer closed the squad car door. A moment later, he was being escorted to prison. Michelle went back into the ambulatory entrance of Fletcher University Hospital to calm down. The nurses were especially kind to her in her moment of hysteria, and though they all believed that the ambulatory service had to have been transferring the patient as planned, nobody had a grasp as to what really had happened.

June, 1962

It was getting late in the afternoon. Evan thoroughly enjoyed observing the people at the amusement park, especially the children. He envied the family unit and appreciated how it evolved from the ancient world. Children were becoming more and more treated as integral parts of the family unit with each passing century and each new culture, although they were given fewer and fewer responsibilities. He felt as though he would like to live in a part of America such as Riverside.

As he walked down the road, the carousel music faded away but could still be faintly heard. Evan found it to be an anthem of joy. He came upon a sundry shop situated on the corner of two main roads, built to serve those fortunate enough to be part of this charming neighborhood. There was a young man standing out front wearing a smock. Behind him, taped to the storefront window, was a sign that read:„Help Wanted". “Hello,” said Evan to the boy.

“Hey, there.”
“Do you work in this store?”
“Yup. Can I help you?”
“I was just noticing the sign behind you. I"m kind of new

in the neighborhood and could use a job. Do you know if your boss hires people… er… under the table?”

The boy laughed. “Mr. Cacharelli hires
everybody
under the table. That"s the way he likes it. He usually knows our parents first… so that way he hires kids he can trust. You"re a bit older though.”

“I"m… seventeen.” That fabrication was close to his physiological age, given that he estimated himself as around nineteen at the time he helped Gerasimos with his experiments. Evan also wanted to be able to begin his new life in Riverside with the flexibility to add more believable years to his age during the time he hoped to be spending there.

“I"m fifteen… still in school,” the boy replied. I"m the old guy here right now. Generally, once the kids who work here graduate, they"re off to college.”

“Well… I don"t think I"ll be going away to college. Is Mr.

Cacharelli here?”
“Yeah… he"s inside… at the counter.”
“Thanks.” Evan walked into the sundry shop, introduced

himself to Mr. Cacharelli, and inquired about the job. Mr. Cacharelli was leery because he figured that Evan would be looking for benefits, and the store was in no position to pay benefits to workers despite the desperate need for help.

“Well… I"m not sure if you"d be interested. We… don"t pay very well. In fact, that"s why we only hire the kids.” Mr. Cacharelli could tell that Evan most likely was not a policeman or a government worker. “I could only pay you a dollar an hour. But that would be under the table, so that"s like getting a buck thirty or so since Iwon"t be taking out money for taxes. Minimum wage is a buck fifteen so you"ll be making out better than minimum wage.”

“That sounds just fine, Mr. Cacharelli.”

“I don"t recall seeing you around here before. Do I know your parents?”
“Uh… probably not. They… passed away when I was very young.”
“How old are you now?”
“Seventeen.”
“Do you live in the neighborhood?”
“Yes… that is… I have been staying with my grandfather.”
“Your grandfather? Do I know him by any chance?”
Evan needed to weave his tangled web before he got caught. “Amos Troy? You might. He seems to know you. Of course… he doesn"t get out much anymore. He"s never really feeling well.”
“Amos Troy…” said Mr. Cacharelli as he tried his best to recollect. “You know… so many people come in and out of here… I know almost all the names that go with the faces, but there are always a couple of names I either don"t know or don"t remember. You say he knows me?”
Evan looked at the shelves directly behind the counter where Mr. Cacharelli was standing. “He used to come in here to buy his pipe tobacco. Captain Black. Too bad his biggest reason for shopping here may very well be the biggest factor to his ill health. Emphysema, you know.”
“That"s a shame. I certainly hope it wasn"t the Captain Black. Come to think of it… there was an old guy who used to always come in for Captain Black every week. So his name is Amos Troy, eh? And your namewould be…?”
“Evan, sir. Evan Troy.”
“Well, Evan. I do need someone to wait on customers and also workthe ice cream fountain. Can you do it?”
Evan was delighted that Mr. Cacharelli seemed to have an obligation to poor old Amos. “I can do almost anything you need.”
”Well then… when would you like to start?”
“I can start any time you like.”
“How about tomorrow morning… eight o"clock sharp?”
“I will see you then, Mr. Cacharelli.”
“You can call me Mr. C.”
“You got it, Mr. C., and thanks. Oh… there
is
one more thing.”
“What"s that, Evan?”
“My grandfather… he"ll be going into a home for the aged so he can be better taken care of. Would you know of a place I can stay? I only need a couple of rooms. I… just can"t afford the place my grandfather is renting now… and he won"t be going back there.” Evan hated lying, but he knew no other recourse. He knew that despite his wish to be himself without facades, he would always need to make up stories about his origin. He was getting very good at manufacturing his facts during conversation.
“I converted the apartments over the store into a bunch of one-room bachelor pads. I always have something available. I can give you a special rateon one and take it out of your pay if you"d like. It will be much less than renting a couple of rooms.”
“Sounds great, Mr. C. I"ll take it.” Evan was especially pleased that he would become part of the community. He envisioned going to the park and meeting people frequently, as well as sitting by the shores of the bay when he needed some quiet time. It was perfect… and he was in no hurry to meet any special someone. He wanted to just enjoy his new life and be a friend to everyone he met. In other words, he wanted to be himself.

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