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The Soul Reacher
Chapter 9: The Child

Chapter 9: The Child

The principal’s office was becoming more and more familiar now that most experiments were less and less discrete. Joey Colmyre sat in the same chair he did every time, only his toes reaching the floor, his hands in his lap. The window blinds he had made fall down the last time he was there had been repaired, and the paperweight he had made fall and break the time before that had not been replaced. And as much as Mrs. Berry tried to avoid eye contact with him, she didn’t realize that he could still read her mind regardless.

This goddamn bastard demon child, I swear to fucking God—

Joey snickered at the woman’s use of curse words, certainly unfitting for someone in charge of a Christian school. But he resented being called “demon child” or “demon spawn.” His grandfather always preached that demons were evil beings that preyed on the souls of humans, tempting them away from God, even killing them violently. Joey didn’t feel like that. He had no desire to kill anyone. In fact, he tried to be nice, to make friends, to not be lonely. He tried to hide his powers, the stuff that he figured was what made everyone think he was a demon, but he couldn’t help but be curious about what people were thinking. And moving objects around to confuse people was fun. He wasn’t hurting anyone. And the one time he did accidently make a book fall on his aunt’s head, he felt awful and cried.

Third grade had become incredibly boring now that he had learned to read the teacher’s lesson from her head and soak it in immediately as if it all just fit into place like puzzle pieces. He’d had to take to entertaining himself in other ways like reading the minds of his classmates or making their pencils fall off their desk or a magnet to come loose from the whiteboard. Everyone knew it was him but could never prove it.

But that day a fifth grader had gotten the courage to push Joey around, dump his backpack over his head and kick his books across the hallway. “Demon spawn, come at me!” he had teased. “I dare you.”

Joey had hesitated. For about two seconds. Then his anger overflowed, and though no one could actually see it, every object and the building itself soaked his anger in and returned a schematic to Joey’s brain. Instantly the sprinkler just above the bully’s head popped off and water spilled from the pipe, soaking him and everyone near. Except Joey, who remained dry as if a shield protected him.

And now Joey sat staring at his hands in his lap, having no desire to read the minds of his grandparents as they listened to the principal’s telling of the tale. “Do forgive me, Pastor Colmyre,” Mrs. Berry said, “but I really think that perhaps he is not a good fit here. I think he needs…more in-depth intervention, if such a thing exists.”

The pastor sighed, a slight growl hidden beneath. Joey looked briefly, read I hate this monster, and looked away again. “I apologize, Kelly, for his behavior. He will be punished, of course. Unfortunately I feel it is best that he remain here under our watchful eye.”

“But Pastor—”

“Trust me. I am not defending him by any means. But I think we have been able to…suppress him…and I worry that in the wrong hands there could be…problems. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, yes I suppose I do. But I wonder if perhaps a private tutor, away from other children, would be an option. Many of the children are scared, and understandably so.”

Robert nodded. “We had done the same for Annabelle for a while when she needed to stay home. Perhaps that is a good idea.”

At the sound of his aunt’s name, Joey’s heart lifted a little. If anyone could understand him, she would.

“Let’s go, you,” Robert said, sneering at Joey. He grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed painfully, leading him out of the room and down the hall. His grandmother stood back, always nervous to be within less than a few feet of him. They were silent during the very short car ride home, and once inside the house, Joey was thrust against the wall, Robert’s hand tight around his neck.

“You little monster,” he snarled. “Do you have any idea what you are doing to me? How bad this makes me look?”

Sandra squealed. “Please, Rob, don’t do that.”

“Why do you care, Sandra?”

“He might fight back!”

But Joey had no plans to fight back, even though he could read the man’s thoughts of wanting to murder him. Kill this demon spawn, he’ll ruin me, I’ll kill him.

The hands tightened and Joey pulled at them, trying to get free. “By the power of God,” Robert said, his voice booming in the room, “I beg you Jesus to take the life of this monster, this beast of Hell, and send it to where it belongs! Take him now with your almighty power, your mercy on us, those that worship you and follow your every word, Lord I pray you take his life now!”

“Stop!” A woman’s voice screamed and Joey felt relief despite not being able to breathe. Annabelle had burst into the room and was pulling her father away. “How dare you!” she said. “Using the Lord’s name to wish death on someone. A child!”

“He’s a demon, Annie! I’ve had enough of looking like I’m harboring the son of Satan. Eight years I’ve let him live in this house of God and it only gets worse.”

“Did he kill anyone today?”

“It’s only a matter of time. And since God still refuses to send him back to Hell, he shall remain in his room at all times from now on, only to come out for lessons and to use the bathroom. I’ll have bars installed on his windows and take out any objects he could use as weapons. And I will pray every day that God finally kills the monster in this house.”

Annabelle gaped, seemingly speechless. Joey rubbed his neck and said, “I’ll go to my room now.”

“Not until it’s cleaned out!”

Joey was forced to lay on his bed under his grandfather’s watchful eye while Sandra went through the room, removing objects she felt were dangerous, which was nearly all of them. Annabelle tried to argue that taking so much away was overkill, but she was ignored. Once the room was little more than a bed, nearly barren desk, and dresser, Robert spent twenty minutes flipping the doorknob around to lock from the outside, then left him alone in silence.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to Annabelle argue with her parents. Though he couldn’t hear what she was saying, he knew she was defending him like she always did. He hoped she would still visit him in his new prison. As sadness filled him and spilled into the surroundings, he looked at the doorknob. A schematic of its internal workings came back through the veins of his emotions that lined the walls and he knew he could probably unlock it with only a thought. But he didn’t. There was no reason to want to leave the room anyway.

Two things remained on his desk: a Bible and a tablet with headphones. He held his hand out to the take tablet as it gently floated over to him. The device had very little on it—a handful of what his grandmother considered “harmless” games like puzzles or drawing, and an app for music. He always gravitated toward the latter, as any type of music connected with him. Even though he was only allowed Christian children’s songs, he enjoyed the melodies, fascinated by how the instruments worked with the voices to create something only tangible to the heart. The soul. He knew there was more out there and he longed to hear it, whatever it might be.

Joey looked out the window. There’s music out there, calling to me. Somewhere. I need to find it.

* * *

“How can you have such hatred in your heart, Daddy?” Annabelle stood before her father, struggling to control her desire to explode. “What example are you showing? How can you expect him to do good if all he sees is hatred? This goes against everything we promised to do for him.”

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“He is only getting worse!” Robert shouted. “And it will only get even worse from here. How long before breaking water pipes becomes breaking necks? How long before reading minds becomes mind control? Only an evil creature can have such powers. And you accuse me of hatred? You’ve forgotten that God says to reject every kind of evil. Let those who love the Lord hate evil, for he guards the lives of his faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked. God will protect us from this evil and take him, but not soon enough.”

Annabelle glared, her fists clenched. “Joey is not evil. He is a child, lost in this world. And you have forgotten that anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness.” When Robert opened his mouth to retort, Annabelle held up a hand. “Before you claim that he is not a brother because he’s a demon, ask yourself if you would truly turn your back on a troubled soul that needs the path of God. In the words of Jesus himself, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” She sighed, and though Robert did not speak and the argument was over for the moment, she knew the long-term battle was far from over. “Please don’t give up on him. I sure won’t.”

She left silence behind as she ascended the wide staircase and down the long hall to Joey’s room. There was silence there too, but when she knocked and got no response, she had a good idea as to why.

Unlocking the door, she slowly entered, not surprised to find Joey sitting on his bed with his tablet and headphones. He turned to look at her, and instantly his forlorn expression brightened.

Annabelle closed the door behind her and immediately tried to put up a mental shield that she had been practicing ever since discovering Joey could read her mind. She worried that her sometimes conflicting thoughts would upset him, so she replaced them with only worldless positivity. It seemed to work.

Joey stopped his music and took off his headphones as Annabelle sat on the bed beside him. “Hey,” she said, “Are you okay?”

The boy didn’t answer, but scooted closer and cuddled.

“Tell me what happened today.”

“A boy was being mean to me. He took my backpack and threw all my stuff around. I got mad and—”

“And what?”

“I broke the sprinkler and he got all wet.” He looked up, tears in his eyes. “Nobody got hurt, I promise! I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t.”

“I know you didn’t.” Annabelle smiled, unable to hold back a little chuckle. “Don’t tell Grandpa and Grandma I said this, but I think a soaking was a nice choice.” She held the thought in her mind, knowing he was reading it.

It didn’t seem to comfort him. “Was Grandpa really gonna kill me?”

Annabelle couldn’t deny it had been possible and she was thankful for the guide voice that told her to go downstairs in time.

“You knew to come save me?”

Of course he read my mind. “Never mind. As long as I’m around, you’ll be safe, I promise.”

She saw uncertainty in his eyes, and though she tried to block the thought, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was time to tell him the truth she’d hidden from him his whole life.

“Tell me the truth,” Joey said. “I really am a demon, aren’t I.”

Annabelle sighed. “I wish you’d stop getting into my head.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the only way I can really know what’s going on because no one talks to me.”

“I talk to you.”

“But you hide things. You just thought about telling me the truth. Tell me. Just tell me I’m a demon already so I know it’s true.”

As the tears fell down Joey’s cheeks, Annabelle wiped them away. “I don’t know if you’re a demon. Demons are evil and dangerous, but you are neither of those things. You do cause trouble with your powers, and because of how you…came to be…people worry that you won’t stay good forever.”

“What do you mean, ‘how I came to be’? Does it have to do with my dad that no one will tell me about?”

Annabelle did not want to explain rape to an eight-year-old. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone that you know this now. It stays between us. Okay?”

“Okay, but why is it so secret? It’s not fair.”

“Because we worry that knowing the truth might…” Make you evil.

“Make me evil. Because I am a demon. Just say it. I already know it because everyone says it. But I want to know why I am. Tell me who my dad is.”

“Okay. Listen. We don’t know who your dad is—I don’t even want to call him that—and we don’t know exactly what happened. But we’re pretty sure that a demon attacked your mom and…you were the result.”

“’Pretty sure?’ Just say it. It’s true.”

“Maybe. See, your mom was so traumatized after it that she could barely speak. She said it was a demon, that her sort-of boyfriend summoned it, but that’s all. She wouldn’t describe it or anything. Your mom’s boyfriend, he disappeared. The police found his blood everywhere but never his body. So it was someone or something else that attacked her. And now here you are, with powers and…maybe it’s from a demon.”

Joey stared straight ahead, and though his face held little expression, his lip quivered.

“But remember, you are still in part your mom. You have her good heart, I know it.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t even look like her. I’m all demon.”

He curled up against her as he cried, and Annabelle squeezed him tight. He was right that he didn’t look anything like Miranda. He had dark brown hair instead of blonde, brown eyes instead of blue, a rounder face and nose. She hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the supposed demon that night, but she feared Joey was much more like him than anything. With Joey’s eyes averted, he couldn’t read her grim thoughts.

“You don’t have to let this dictate your life,” she said. “Don’t let this take you on a path that you shouldn’t walk. You’re young enough that you can learn to use your powers for good. You can still prove to everyone that you are good and pure inside.”

“I don’t want to have powers. I hate it. What if I do turn evil? Only evil can do things like I do.”

Making sure Joey was not looking at her, Annabelle pondered whether to tell him one more truth. The guide voice was not telling her to keep it quiet. If he’s my purpose, he should know.

“I’m going to tell you another secret,” she said. “This one is more important to keep secret than what I already told you. You have to promise me you will never tell anyone.”

Joey looked up. “Okay.”

“I have powers too.”

She saw him try to read more in her mind but she had halted her thoughts.

“They’re healing powers,” she continued. “I only ever used them on your mom. It was like she was the only one I was supposed to use it for. Remember when Grandma slipped on ice and broke her wrist? I could have healed it, but something told me not to. Probably because she and Grandpa would take advantage of it. I haven’t used my powers since, well, I tried to stop your mom’s pain right before you were born. It had always worked until then. So I guess I don’t even know if it works anymore.”

Joey stared at her in deep interest. Then he smiled. “Try it! Try it now. I’ll hurt myself and you fix it.”

“No! Don’t hurt yourself.”

But he was already up and opening a desk drawer, putting the other hand in to smash it.

Annabelle jumped up and stopped him. “Okay, okay. How about something small. A papercut.” She looked around and the only paper left in the room was the pages of the Bible. “This feels wrong, but let’s do it.” With a quick swipe she sliced Joey’s finger with the edge of the page. He winced as she squeezed it, then as they sat back down on the bed, Annabelle held his hand between both of hers, closed her eyes, and prayed.

Lord, please heal this wound and ease the pain.

Through her closed eyelids she could see the glow of her hand, and Joey gasped. The glow lasted only a second, and when they both looked at the boy’s finger, the cut was gone.

Joey gaped and stared at Annabelle with wide eyes. “Wow! That’s so cool!”

“Shhh! Remember, it’s our extra special secret, okay? And don’t go hurting yourself for fun just because I can fix it.”

“Okay.” Joey paused, now looking curious. “Wait…so are you a demon too?”

“No, definitely not. I don’t know where this power came from. Your mom always called me her guardian angel, but I don’t really think that’s what I am either. I mean, I couldn’t save her, so…” She looked down at her hands, sadness and anger at their failure rushing in. She had always wanted to believe she was a guardian angel, that her powers were given by God specifically to watch over one person, that the voice in her head was some connection with God, maybe it was God Himself. But then it had failed. Maybe there were just humans out there with weird powers for no particular reason and she just happened to end up with this specific family. But the powers got stronger that night…

Joey was staring at her head harder than he’d ever had before, and she let him do it, having no more energy to block him out. “You’re definitely an angel,” he said finally. “I can see it.”

Annabelle forced a smile. “Well, it really doesn’t matter about me, what I am. What’s important is that I help you learn to stay on the right path. To not be afraid of what you might be. And as you maybe learn more about your abilities, you can find ways to use them for good.”

“How can I do that if people hate me and lock me up and try to kill me?”

Reaching for the Bible, Annabelle said, “Have you read any of this?”

“I tried but it’s boring.”

“Some of it is a bit dry, yeah, especially for a kid. But there are some really great things in here that can inspire you. You’ve learned the story about Jesus in Sunday school, all the great things he did before he died. He tried to convince people of his goodness, and some people didn’t believe him, but he never gave up on trying. It’s a great example of how you can be strong, and even if it takes a long time you can prove to the world how great you really are.”

“But he healed people and stuff. Like you. He got rid of people like me.”

“Jesus got rid of demons that plagued humans. He accepts all who follow him, all who have him in their heart. Is Jesus in your heart? Do you want to follow him?”

“Yeah, but he knows everything, right? Like, he knows I’m a demon. He won’t let me into Heaven no matter what.”

Annabelle put the Bible down and placed her hands on each side of his head. “Never, ever, ever think that. Keep your heart pure and strong and good, and Jesus will love you and God will let you into Heaven. This I promise. Read Matthew, read about all that Jesus went through and learn from that strength. I know you can. And you can always come to me. Promise me you’ll come to me.”

“I promise.”

Annabelle squeezed him tight again and a verse came to her. “May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through,” she said aloud. “May your whole spirit, soul, and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”