The Soulkeepers by G. P. Ching Read Free Book Online Page B

copied the numbers onto a yellow sticky note. Then he
grabbed his cell phone off the dresser and crept down to the
kitchen.
    In front of the bay window, at the heavy
pine table, he sat with the number in one hand and his phone in the
other. What would he say? Do you sell jewelry boxes? Do you have
any extra keys? There wasn't much time before the Laudners woke up
and he didn't want to explain who he was calling. Not wanting to
waste another minute, Jacob plugged the numbers into the phone,
still unsure what he would say, and listened to the ring, once,
twice, three times. Finally, he heard the familiar static of an
answering machine.
    "You have reached Red Door Martial Arts."
The voice was male, rich and deep. "We are not available at the
moment but if you please leave a message, we will call you
back."
    Jacob snapped the phone shut. Of course they
wouldn't have answered; it was the middle of the night on Oahu. He
reread the sticky note. Had he dialed the wrong number? He dialed
it again and got the same message. Why would his mother have the
number for a martial arts business on the bottom of her jewelry
box? It didn't make sense.
    He leaned back in his chair and stared
across the street at the Victorian. The vines on the wrought-iron
fence were beginning to green. He tried his best to concentrate on
the color and to forget where he was and why. The world outside was
a rolling sea and he was on a raft without a paddle. There was
nothing to anchor him and no way to shore. He had to think. He had
to find a way back to his life.
    The floor creaked. Jacob turned in his
chair. Katrina stood in the archway to the family room, a wry grin
lifting the corner of her mouth. She cocked her head sideways when
their eyes met. The expression reminded him of a rat and Jacob
wondered how long she'd been looking at him like that.
    "What do you want?" he asked.
    "I was just wondering if you were hungry,"
Katrina said. She flipped her curly brown hair behind the shoulder
of her sweater. One of her blue suede boots rested on the wall
behind her. Her gray tights and suede mini skirt reminded him of
doll clothes, too perfect, too pressed.
    "No, not really..."
    "Because, if you were hungry," she
interrupted, "I would be happy to make you some eggs. That is what
you like isn't it? Eggs? You know, you are what you eat." She
laughed callously.
    The knot in Jacob's stomach tightened to a
point he'd never experienced. It was a point of pain, of looking
out from his loathing as if it were a cocoon that had served its
purpose. His ears felt hot. His heart thundered in his chest.
    "Just wanted you to know your cafeteria
adventures have made it all the way to the senior class." With a
smirk, she held up her cell phone.
    It was too much. Everything here was wrong:
the people, the weather, the box that didn't make sense, the house
across the street that gave him the chills, the pink room. He
couldn't breath. He couldn't move. The muscles in his chest and
stomach had tightened to the point of self-suffocation. The events
of the last four months flashed before his eyes: the accident,
finding out his mom was missing and maybe dead, Dane, Paris,
learning his father once was named Laudner. At every turn there
were walls and those walls were closing in. He didn't belong here.
But most of all, Jacob would not allow his suffering to be
Katrina's entertainment.
    Air rushed into his lungs. It was an
involuntary thing, a reflex. The breath filled him until something
snapped. It was as if each event had been a rubber band wrapped
around the last, winding tighter and tighter. This new air, this
new breath of oxygen had broken the outer band. All of them were
unraveling at once, snapping and rolling within him.
    The lid was left open and the snake was set
free.
    Jacob sprung to his feet. He vaguely felt
himself ascend the stairs and enter Katrina's room. It took only
seconds to decide. The glass case made it all too obvious that they
were precious to her, perfectly adorned