Forgotten Souls
Page 8

Mark had indicated that we would be spending the day outside, so I gathered my hair together and pulled it into a high ponytail on top of my head so it wouldn’t become a mess after a few hours in the heat. After a light layer of lip gloss, a touch of eyeliner, and a spray of my favorite perfume, I was ready to go.
I walked through the house quietly leaving Feline behind to finish his water in the bathroom.
I found Mark on the patio watching the waves roll in.
"Hi," I said, walking up behind him and placing my hands on his shoulders.
"Hi yourself. Don't you look pretty today," he said, pulling me onto his lap. "Not that you're not pretty every day," he added quickly.
"Sure, sure I got you. Believe me I know I've looked like death this past week," I said grimacing.
"You could never look anything but beautiful," he said seriously, dragging his hand around the nape of my neck to pull me in for a kiss.
After making his point clear, he finally pulled back. "You ready to get out of here?" he asked.
"Most definitely," I said enthusiastically, hopping off his lap.
We drove with the windows down on the way to Mark's secret destination. The ocean breeze blew through the window filling the car with its briny smell. I inhaled the salty scent as the wind whipped my ponytail around. I loved living near the ocean.
"Okay, sooooo where are we going?" I asked for like the hundredth time.
"Can't say," he said, grinning at me mischievously.
I slid down in my seat, pretending to pout, but I couldn't help but grin. I was so excited to be out that we could be going to the dump and I would be perfectly happy with it.
As Mark turned up the radio, I closed my eyes and turned my face toward the window to soak up the warm rays of the morning sun. With my head relaxed against the headrest, the warm air blew across my face as the music from the radio surrounded us.
After half an hour, Mark pulled off the highway and made a series of turns, finally pulling into a sandy parking lot. By the look of the many outdoor tables and booths in the distance, it looked like we were at some kind outdoor market.
Jumping out of the vehicle, I took a look at the sights surrounding me. Mark came around the vehicle and joined me.
"You remembered," I said, throwing my arms around him. Weeks ago I had expressed my desire to someday visit a year-round outdoor market. Being from the arctic climate of Montana, an outdoor market was unheard of.
"Of course I remembered. I remember everything you’ve ever said to me," he said in a husky voice near my ear making me shiver in delight.
"I'm so excited," I said, grabbing onto his hand and dragging him toward the entrance.
The outdoor market was everything I had imagined and more. Each seller had their own wooden stand with long tables filled with their wares. Fruits, vegetables, and baked goods lined the majority of the tables. The sweet smell of every fruit imaginable hung succulent fragrances in the air making even a chocoholic like me, water at the mouth. Vendors from each side of us offered to cut open fruit from their stands hoping to entice buyers in.
I paused at one of the tables to try a fruit I had only read about in books. Accepting the small piece of passion fruit, I popped it into my mouth cautiously after eyeing the slimy yellow middle. I was pleasantly surprised at the flavors that burst in my mouth. I wasn’t overly crazy about the texture, but aside from that, the fruit was extremely tasty.
Moving on to the next stand, I paused to look at the pretty color of the porcelain hair clips that lined the bright, woven cloth. "How much?" I asked the old Mexican woman behind the table.
"Six dollars each, two for ten, or three for twelve," she said in a heavily accented voice.
Pleased at the price, I studied the hair clips and picked a pale pink one for myself, and a dark purple one that appeared black until the sun shined on it just right making the purple come alive, for Lynn. Finding one for Sam took much longer as I searched for something that she would like. I had it narrowed down to three when I finally had to ask Mark for his opinion.
"I think that one matches her the most," he said, pointing toward the swirl-colored one I had been leaning toward.
"I think that one's perfect too," I said, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"So, are you trying for the perfect boyfriend award or are you really okay with this whole shopping thing?" I asked teasingly as we moved on.
"I enjoy shopping as much as the next guy, but spending the day with you totally makes it worth it," he answered, draping his arm across my shoulders.
"Well, I'll take it," I said, moving on to the next stand where a cute little boy who looked to be about three rushed around the table to proudly show me his truck. I squatted down to admire it.
"I think that's the coolest truck ever," I said, praising it as he handed it over for me to take a closer look. "I love the big wheels," I said, handing his prized possession back to him. Grinning at me, he scurried back around the table, suddenly shy.
"Sorry about that, he's usually too shy to come out behind the stand," a pretty woman that looked to be in her mid-thirties said to me while wiping her hands on the half apron tied around her narrow waist. "He obviously knows a pretty girl when he sees one," she added, grinning at me before she turned to help a customer. I returned her smile and turned to Mark only to see him studying me intently.
"What?" I asked, self consciously swiping at my face with my hand, making sure I didn’t have anything on it.
"You're going to make a really good mom someday," he said, looking at me in a way that made my heart beat at an erratic pace. The picture of cradling our child in my arms filled my head and I blushed thinking about what we would have to do to have a child. Both were extremely appealing pictures. I was definitely not ready to have kids now, but the promise of someday was enough to make my soul sing.
Mark smiled when he caught the gist of my thoughts. "Yep, definitely not ready for kids but…," he said, winking at me suggestively.
I giggled and reached for his hand. Our minds were obviously on the same page on that topic.
After several hours of shopping at the various makeshift stands, we were both famished and decided to dine at one of the countless food eateries there.
"I want a corn dog and fries. The smell has been driving me batty since we got here," I said after a few minutes of deliberating. "Ooh and I want a yummy chocolate ice cream cone," I added, spotting the ice cream vendor across the way.
"Of course you do," Mark said laughing as he headed off to get the food.
All the plastic resin tables were taken, so I picked us a secluded spot under the shade of a beautiful weeping willow tree. I ran my fingers over the light branches that hung almost to my waist in some places, giving it the feel of an outdoor tent. Stooping low, I crab-walked under the long branches sighing with pleasure as I stood under the canopy. Willow trees were by far my favorite species of trees. They had a mysterious appeal about them that seemed so romantic and sad at the same time. Combining our purchases into one bag, I spread the other two out so we could sit on them.
I sat down on my bag and drew my knees up to my chest, smoothing out the skirt of my dress over my legs. I watched mesmerized as the branches danced around me, gently putting on their own little show.
"Hey, I almost couldn’t find you," Mark said, chuckling as he parted the branches to join me.
"Sorry, I couldn’t resist the nice canopy under here. It feels magical doesn’t it?" I asked.
"It's pretty spectacular," Mark said, handing me the tray with the corn dogs and fries on it, before he plopped down next to me with our drinks. "I figured we could get you your cone when were done eating," he added.
"Good call, as long as we don't forget," I said solemnly.
"Um, Krista, no offense, but I'm not sure you could ever forget about chocolate."
Laughing, I swatted his arm lightly. "I can't help it. I think it's a part of my DNA. Subject must love chocolate," I said, trying to sound serious.
"Along with junk food," Mark added, indicating our food.
"Oh yeah, definitely junk food too," I said, emphasizing my point by dunking my corn dog in the ketchup and mustard before taking a bite of the deep fried treat. "Although, how could anyone call something like this junk? We need to rename junk food. I say we call it 'yummy food' or 'yum food.' What do you think?"
"I like 'yum food,' that way if you want extra, you can say I want 'yum, yum food,'" Mark said laughing.
"Oh yeah, and if you're on an eating binge, it would be "yum, yum, yum, yum food," I said, trying to get the mouthful out without giggling as my tongue tripped over the words.
We laughed through the rest of our meal as we tried to outdo each other with how many 'yum's' we could say without getting tongue tied or laughing.
Once we were done, we gathered our trash and left our own little private oasis. Dropping the garbage in the receptacle, we headed down one of the paths we had yet to take. By the time we reached the end of the row, we both had our hands full with more purchases and were both dusty from the dirt that had been stirred up by all the people that now crowded the market.
"Sheesh, this place is packed now," I said as we juggled our stuff.
"I can take the stuff back to the Navigator if you still want to keep shopping," Mark said, shifting the two plants I had bought for my mom into one arm so he had a free hand for my bags.
"Nah, that's okay. I'm beat and the heat is starting to make me feel a little sick," I said. "But I had a lot of fun," I added, so he knew how much I appreciated our excursion.
We rounded the next corner and headed up the long, dusty row. Our pace was faster now as we ignored the stands that lined each side of us. We were just about to the end of the row when a girl about my age, dressed similarly to how Lynn dressed reached out to hand me a flyer.
Though she had a firm smile planted across her face, I could feel her despair three feet away from her. My first instinct was to shy away from her emotions like I had been doing for years, but as our hands made contact, I decided to try the training we had been working hard at with Haniel. I allowed her emotions to flood into me. I was instantly blinded by the pictures that flashed behind my eyelids. I could see her cringing away from groping hands and trying to clutch a blanket up to her chin. I shuffled away from her, blinded by the images, trying desperately to keep my lunch down.
"Krista, are you okay?" I could hear Mark's voice asking from far off.
Shaking my head weakly, I felt Mark propelling me away from the center of the row. He dragged a white resin chair from one of the eateries near us and I dropped into it like a ton of bricks. I shut my eyes and willed the nausea back by trying to breathe only through my mouth. The smells of the market that had seemed so appetizing just minutes ago, now worked against me as my lunch swirled wildly in my stomach.
"Krista, what's the matter? Is it the heat?" Mark asked, kneeling on the ground to look at me.
"No, it's this," I said, showing him the flyer I still had clutched in my hand.
He reached over and gently pried it out of my sweaty fingers. "It's some kind of revival thing," he said, sounding puzzled, holding it up for me to see.
"Not the actual paper," I said, concentrating on breathing through my mouth as I answered him. "It was the girl who handed it to me," I said, swallowing back another wave of nausea.
Mark turned around looking for the girl that had handed the flyer off to me, but she was gone, already swallowed up by the crowd.
"What about her?" Mark asked, still confused.
"I allowed her emotions in. I saw her past," I said miserably. My insides were a twisted mess from the images I had seen. I wanted to hunt down the sick person that had taken something so important from her.
"Krista, maybe you misunderstood what you felt. We've been training wicked long hours and you said the heat was making you feel ill. Maybe those two things combined made you a little more sensitive."
"No, I didn't miss understand," I said stubbornly. "Her pictures were exactly like the forgotten soul images Haniel has been assaulting us with all week. Something happened to her awhile ago and someone is definitely using it to their advantage now. Haniel said that forgotten souls are consumed by their past hurts and that’s what the Abbadons feed on. They use their pain against them allowing them to only focus on the awful images instead of any good ones. Trust me, she's being used for something," I said as I stood up on shaky legs. I was disappointed in myself for not holding on longer and filtering her emotions like I was created for.
"Well, we still have this," Mark said, picking the thoughts from my head as he held up the orange flyer.
He handed it over to me and I read the headline. "Feel like you've been wronged? Come by and hear what you can do to change that around." Beneath the words was a silhouette picture of a group of people standing side by side. Below the picture was the date and time of the event. At the bottom of the page was an address.
"We can go take a drive over and see if we see anything. It's probably deserted today since the next meeting looks to be tomorrow," he said, grabbing onto my hand.
I felt a wave of relief flow over me that he believed me.
Our mission made us walk back to the car faster than our previous pace and within a few minutes we had reached the SUV and were throwing our stuff into the cargo area at the rear of the Navigator. I climbed into my seat and was relieved as the last of the nausea finally left me.
"You okay?" Mark asked as he cranked the air up to high and adjusted the middle vents so they would blow directly on me.
"Yeah, I feel much better. I wish I could have helped her more, but maybe it's not too late. Haniel neglected to tell us that leaving a forgotten soul unfiltered would leave us feeling so lost. I felt like I had climbed to the top of a mountain only to be pushed back down before I could reach the top," I said to Mark, trying to explain why I felt so mixed up.
"Well, let's go see what we can dig up," Mark said, plugging the address into his navigation unit.
The directions appeared on the screen in front of us in a few seconds, pointing to a destination less than a couple of miles away from where we currently were. Mark pulled out of the dirt lot and turned in the opposite direction that we had taken to get here. After a mile, the soft voice from the navigation unit told us to take the next right. Mark turned down the dirt road and after a hundred yards the voice prompted us to turn left. Mark obliged, and after one last turn we pulled into a wide open space with signs that indicated that it was used for carnivals and circuses that passed through town.