A Glimpse of Her Soul

Chapter 5 - Road Trip

Chapter 5

Road Trip

The old Honda Civic sped down the highway, its engine rumbling with the cracked pavement. Though it lacked air conditioning, a CD player, an mp3 jack, a radio, cruise control, or any other working amenity, Pops refused to sell it. "What car today is going to get me 43 miles to the gallon?" he'd argue while something metallic rattled from the right-rear wheel well.

Sitting in tense silence, Gillian wished for the barest of amenities — anything to break her father's quiet and let her mind drift away from all that had happened. They headed south toward Georgia, and Gillian wondered how long they would be traveling.

"Don't trust that Jack," Pops finally said. "Don't trust any Caller. You understand?"

"Are you really going to talk to me about trust?" Gillian said, the venom in her voice far sharper than her tongue.

Pops started and stopped speaking three times like a child trying to avoid telling the truth while also avoiding a big lie. Gillian leveled her eyes on him, not giving him any room to maneuver with ease. Though she could see the tears welling in his eyes — part of her hurt to see it — she only had to think of that giant bird or the bamboo samurai to flame her anger.

At length, Pops said, "You can trust me."

Gillian turned to the window and watched the passing scenery, trying to squelch the burning in her chest. Making a tight fist, she let a little of the heat out, hoping to keep control of the rest. "You knew about all this. The Callers, the Marked, Spirit, you knew it all and you never said anything to me."

"Yes."

"You could've warned me."

"Would you have believed me?"

"You're my father. Of course I'd believe you," she said but when Pops raised an eyebrow, she added, "Well, maybe not at first, but I would've realized there was no reason to make such a thing up. I would've come around. But you never gave me that chance. You left me blind and vulnerable, and you left me thinking I was losing my mind."

Pops shifted his bulk. "I'm truly sorry. I would never intentionally hurt you. It's just, well, I had hoped you'd never find out. Many of the Marked reach adulthood without incident, and once you're eighteen, the danger's pretty much over."

"What are you talking about now?"

"Think of it like this. Pretend your soul is a beautiful, porcelain vase. When you're a baby, that vase is so pure, so untouched, its beauty is blinding to the Callers — painful to look upon, let alone touch. It's downright deadly. But as you grow up, it's like placing that vase in a press. Slowly the press descends and it begins to mark the vase. It starts to really show on the vase after about eight years, and the markings are most visible at sixteen years, but the press doesn't stop and by eighteen years the pressure will shatter the beautiful vase, leaving behind a flat mess of porcelain shards. You're sixteen, sweetie. When you reach eighteen, the Callers won't be able to read anything off of your soul. You'll have an adult soul which is an ugly mess to them. I never said anything to you about all this because I thought, I hoped, I wouldn't have to."

Gillian's mouth turned down. "You're saying that I just have to deal with this for two more years and then they'll leave me alone?"

"That's why we're going to see this lady. She can make it difficult for them to see you. Not impossible but difficult. If we're careful, and a bit lucky, you'll get through the next two years without any more trouble." Pops patted Gillian's leg. "Please, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you with any of this. It's been a constant burden of worry, but I hoped you'd get to enjoy a normal life. Others like you, their parents tell them the truth, and they waste their youth looking over their shoulders, wondering when a Caller will strike. That's no way to live. I didn't want that for you. I wanted you to be happy."