Wherever Souls Fly - Luke's Story

2 What's on a spirit's mind

There's a lot I have to think about after my conversation with Luke. What helps me sort out the puzzling thoughts is doing something completely different, like cooking for example. So I go to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the four of us. It's only Freddy, Pete, Muhammad, and me in the house since everybody else left some weeks ago. Freddy and Muhammad will come back from Muay Thai training in an hour, and Pete has gone to see his parents.

The situation isn't as bad as in winter – not only because we have a lot of free time during the summer holidays, but also because most Covid restrictions have been lifted. Being able to go swimming in Lake Eagle and training at the gym again, going shopping or watching a movie in the cinema feels like long awaited, newly gained freedom. Okay, we still need to wear facemasks inside buildings, but everybody's got used to it – except for a handful of Covidiots who claim wearing masks violates their human rights.

I marinate chicken drumsticks and chop loads of vegetables, and of course I cut my finger as my mind keeps wondering to that cold and dark storage warehouse where Luke met his Agent. Unfortunately none of my friends is there to take care of the wound that is bleeding so badly that I'm about to faint, but I manage to pull myself together, disinfect my index finger with a spray I find in the first aid kit, and put an adhesive tape on the cut.

I put the drumsticks into the oven and start the rice cooker, and as I am stir-frying the vegetables, the rest of the gang comes home. Freddy immediately notices the tape on my finger, and of course he knows what to do.

"Pete, you'll stir-fry the vegetables, Muhammad, watch the oven and the rice cooker, I need to take care of my Baby Rome."

He takes my hand and leads me to the sofa in the living room.

"Sit down, Baby. You're so pale. This looks bad. Did you lose a lot of blood?"

Well, all of a sudden I do feel a little weak, and I can even hear my heart pounding quite loudly, but I try to appear strong and brave:

"It's just a little cut. It won't kill me."

Freddy is frowning.

"Did you disinfect it? You know there are all kinds of dangerous germs on chicken drumsticks."

I feel my temperature rising a little, my ears and cheeks have probably turned red by now. But I can reassure my boyfriend:

"I used the spray from the first aid kit."

He is still a little worried, which is something I like about Spicy Fred – he is always a little worried about me. It feels good to have a boyfriend like him.

"Tell me, how did that happen, Baby? You're usually so cautious when you're cutting vegetables."

"I couldn't focus. You know, when you had left in the afternoon, I had a long conversation with Luke, and he eventually told me something about himself."

"That sounds exciting. What did he tell you? We've met him so often, and he knows everything about each and every one of us, but we don't know anything about him."

"I'll tell you after dinner, when Pete and Muhammad are listening, too. The food should be ready by now. Let's set the table."

"I'll do that. Please keep seated, Baby. You've turned red. I'm afraid you have a fever."

I'm quite sure that I don't have a fever. I know I have turned red, but that is because I feel so warm about my loving and caring boyfriend.

Pete wants me to tell them about my conversation with Luke during dinner, but I don't find talking about dead bodies stored in zinc coffins in a cold storage depot appropriate while we are enjoying chili chicken drumsticks and spicy vegetables.

When the others have put the dishes into the dishwasher – Freddy still insists I keep seated – Muhammad surprises us with a box of mochi ice cream he found at the Asian supermarket, so Luke's story still has to wait. The little cakes stuffed with various flavours of ice cream are a sensation, which they need to be because they cost a fortune.

Then everybody is ready to listen to Luke's story, and as I expected, Pete has some ideas how we can help him investigate his past.

"The cold storage depot was used as a storage for coffins only for a few months. Most dead bodies waiting there to be cremated were old people – I should think there would be less than ten people about as old as Luke. I guess he must have been something between 18 and 25. Most of them probably died of Covid. There won't have been too many young guys who died in an accident."

That sounds logical, but Muhammad suggests that identifying the person who became Luke when he turned into a spirit will not be that easy:

"How are we going to find out who was stored in the depot? I mean, there won't be a list somewhere on the internet. Have you got any idea who ran that storage?"

"Must have been the City Council," replies Pete. Muhammad is making a face.

"So you think we'll write a nice little email to the City Council. 'Dear madam/sir, we're looking for the identity of Luke the ghost. He must have died in an accident and was stored in the cold storage depot about half a year ago or so. Can you kindly send us a list of all dead bodies under 25 who were stored there?' I guess you know what the answer will be, if there will be any."

Well, you know Pete by now. He won't give up so easily.

"Guys, we're in Germany. In Germany there are lists for everything. If we were in Estonia, this list would be a file in the government's IT system, probably protected by a sophisticated code. But we're in Germany. Here it will be a printed list, or even a handwritten one, and it will be filed away in an employee's drawer in the residents' registration office. We only need to find out who this employee is, and then we need to think of an excuse why we need to take a look at that list."

Muhammad is making a face again.

"Sounds like we're guys in need, Pete. Honestly, the City Council will only give you an appointment to register your newborn baby or your deceased dad."

Pete snarls at him:

"We're the creative ones, remember? We've coped with a Russian spy and a gang of rockers, so we'll find a way to outwit the City Council, won't we."

I am sure that I don't have a fever now, because although I have carefully listened to what's going on inside my index finger, I don't notice a pounding, so I'll probably survive the cut, and I can already think quite clearly.

"Guys, we know someone who can go wherever and whenever he wants. If we tell Luke where to look for the file, he can go there at night and find it."

Now Freddy has his doubts, too:

"Baby, don't you think helping Luke would be a breach of his rules? You said that the Agent is observing him. Wouldn't he interpret Luke's conversation with you as asking you for help? I mean, he probably wouldn't if we didn't start helping Luke, but as soon as we do, he may punish him for having talked to us about it."

I don't see a problem here.

"I don't think so, Spicy. He didn't ask me for help. He just told me that he needs to get in contact with his family to find his place to rest. I mean, you can probably imagine that I would love him to stay with us. But he's helped us so many times, so I think we should reciprocate, shouldn't we. Look, the longer he remains a spirit, the greater the risk that he makes a mistake. We all remember when he was mad at us before Christmas and switched the lights on and off, and made the incense smokers go crazy. If he does things like that more often, his Agent may turn him into a wandering ghost."

Pete is still the most optimistic of the four of us.

"Guys, let's just wait and see what he's going to say about it. I guess he's been listening all this time anyway, and he'll tell us what he thinks about it."

At this very moment, 'Kilometer Zero' starts playing upstairs. Which means that Luke has been listening, and he is summoning us to tell us what to do. I wonder why he is calling us uptairs – he could just as well have sat down in the living room with us. But then you never know what's on a spirit's mind.