Read Online Soul Intent by Dennis Batchelder - Free Book Online Page B

it’s stuffed full of riches.”
    “That would be nice.” She smiled. “Are you nervous?”
    “Of course.”
    After a few minutes, the interior door opened, and a middle-aged lady in a green lab coat wheeled a metal cart into the room. “Your soul line collection, sir,” she said. She held out a clipboard.
    I signed “John Doe” in the box.
    She looked at my signature and frowned. “You may think this is a big joke, buster, but I’m not amused. Sign it correctly, or I throw you and your friend out of here.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know that’s not my real signature?”
    She glared right back at me. Then she flipped the papers on her clipboard. “I’ve got your real signature right here, Mr. Waverly.” She held it up so I could see it. “And if you would scribble something that comes close to resembling it, you can get on with your business, and I can get on with mine. It’s a busy day today.”
    I signed, this time with my real signature.
    She glanced at the clipboard and nodded. “Much better. Just remove your card when you’re ready to go, and I’ll be back to put everything away.” She closed the door behind her as she left.
    Val laughed. “She’s got your number.”
    “Yeah. Nice to see they’re taking it seriously.” I looked at the cart and took a deep breath.
    It was pretty exciting to think that somebody years before had left articles for me to find. Maybe I’d learn something that would change my life.
    Or maybe I’d discover my previous soul line carrier was a creep or a criminal, like the poor person who one day would open the collection left behind by Hermann Goering. I shivered, and hoped that wasn’t me.
    Time to do it. “Let’s start with the proof sheets,” I said. I lifted the slim wooden case off the top of the box and laid it on the table. I opened it and took out two sheets of paper encased in stiff plastic holders.
    “Two sheets—you’re a level two member,” Val said. She tapped the top sheet. “These brown eyes are yours. I’d know them anywhere.”
    I nodded. “And what about these bright blue eyes?” I slid it over and read, “Edward ‘Ned’ Callaghan. New South Wales, Australia.”
    Val ran her finger down the proof sheet. “He joined way back in 1912,” she said.
    I laid one proof sheet on top of the other, like Archie showed me last year, and I flipped on the tabletop light. The soul identities at the bottom of each sheet aligned perfectly.
    I looked up at Val, and saw her staring at me with shining eyes. I reached over and squeezed her hand.
    It was time to find out what Ned Callaghan had sent to the future. I put the proof sheets back in the wooden box and opened the cart’s side door. A piece of paper and a small hammer sat on the shelves.
    I passed the hammer to Val, then pulled out the paper and laid it flat on the table. On it were just a handful of sentences, which I read out loud:
     
    If you are reading this, you are luckyer then me.
     
    My wife and baby boy are both dead from tyfuss. Doc sed it was the water, so don’t drink it if you come here.
     
    I am quittin White Cliffs and depositing me hammer, becos its all I have left. The opal mine bought me 2 caskets and 4 bottles of rum. Sorrie I cant leave more.
     
    Ned
     
    I set the paper down. “I hope this wasn’t the high point in Ned’s life,” I said.
    “I’m sure it wasn’t,” Val said. She examined the hammer. “He carved his name in the handle.”
    I took it from her, ran my fingers over the “Ned C,” and sighed. “So Ned’s opal hammer is my inheritance?”
    “And his letter.”
    “I was hoping for more of a life lesson than ‘don’t drink the water in White Cliffs.’”
    She tilted her head. “Are you disappointed?”
    That was a question I couldn’t really answer without sounding shallow.
    “I guess I was hoping for something a little more meaningful.” Maybe I dodged that bullet.
    “At least you have somebody in your soul line. Ned was