The Soulkeepers

Chapter 15: The Root Of The Problem

Chapter 15
The Root Of The Problem

“There’s no sense hiding it from you now. I’m going to need your help keeping this a secret. Let’s go back to the house and get you cleaned up. I’ll explain everything over lunch.” Dr. Silva reached for his elbow and helped him to stand.

Jacob’s knees wobbled. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get his mind to form coherent words, his thoughts a jumble of images lost in translation. Without asking permission, she grabbed his arm and rolled him onto her back, piggyback style.

“Don’t worry, the feeling should clear up in a half hour or so,” she said. Dr. Silva navigated the cactus maze with astounding speed considering his added weight. He could already see the sand dune.

“It’s amazing that you made it through the cacti unharmed. Some of them are quite poisonous—even deadly. Of course, I planted them myself to keep people out. You can see why, I’m sure. There could be … complications, if Oswald was accessible to the wrong people.” She stepped down the stone pathway, between the snapdragons and past the blue cucumber.

“That bloody knee has my Dracaena Daemonorops in a state.” The plants swayed violently and he could feel Dr. Silva accelerate across the stones, dodging the yellow heads. When the teeth of one succeeded in latching onto the bloody sock again, she casually reached into her pocket and pulled out garden shears. Without missing a step, she clipped the flower at its neck and the head dropped to the stone walkway.

Moments later, he was overcome with the stench of rotting flesh. He buried his face in his arm to escape it.

“Yeah, that will bring you around.” Dr. Silva laughed. “They are Amorphophallus titanum—very rare. The smell is to attract flies and beetles, which pollinate the flowers. Totally harmless but, again, meant to deter. Apparently, you were not to be discouraged.”

She bounded through the gate, carefully unlocking and locking it behind her. Before he knew what was happening, he landed on his backside beneath the shady maples, a mass of achy joints and throbbing temples. She handed him a bottle of water from a pocket in her cargo pants. He drank greedily, his blood bounding in his veins. A moan escaped his lips as he broke contact with the bottle to catch his breath.

“Right. Keep drinking. I’ve heard it feels like altitude sickness … to your kind.” In her hand was his sweatshirt. She wrapped it around him, pursing her lips against the puff of compost that escaped the fabric, and helped him get his flaccid arms into the sleeves. He noticed she was wearing a sleeveless black T-shirt but didn’t seem the least bit cold. She tucked the empty bottle into her pocket and hoisted him onto her back as gracefully as if he were her cape.

When they reached the sunroom off the kitchen, she dumped his body into a rattan chair.

“What the hell?” he stammered.

“Now, Jacob, relax and listen to what I have to say. There’s a logical explanation for all of this. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” She left the room and returned several minutes later with a tray of pita bread, hummus, cheese, and assorted fruits and vegetables. “I hope this is all right. I’m a vegetarian.” She poured them both a tall glass of water and settled into the chair across from him.

Hunger is a powerful motivator. Jacob started in on the tray with no regard for manners. “I’m listening,” he said between bites.

“It was a mutual love of plants that brought Oswald and I together,” she began, and as she did she turned her head slightly and stared at a spot on the wall. “I was a graduate student studying the plants of India when I made the most remarkable find while visiting the Bengali marketplace. It was an amazing specimen that any horticulturalist would be proud to display. The seed of the Coco de mer can be found naturally only in the Seychelles, a group of islands off the coast of Madagascar. It was a truly incredible find, easily forty pounds or more, and I was haggling with the shopkeeper for it. I can be very persuasive. The seed was as good as mine.