The Soulkeepers (4 page)

The mousy woman left briefly and returned
with a man who looked as though he had recently graduated high
school himself. His brown hair was spiky and his skin, tan. Since
it was January and there wasn't a sunbeam in sight, Jacob got the
impression that Mr. Bailey tried hard to fit in with his
students.

"Hi Jacob. Welcome to our
school," Principal Bailey said through a smile. He pumped Jacobs
hand a few times. "Follow me and I'll show you to Mrs. Haney's." He
pointed towards the door and Jacob led the way into the hall. "I
think you will like Mrs. Haney. She is one of our more, ah,
experienced
teachers."

He climbed a short flight of stairs. Mr.
Bailey paused at the top. "Jacob, I had a talk with your uncle
about your unfortunate circumstances. I want to tell you how glad
we all are that you're here. I certainly understand you might be
feeling a broad range of emotions right now. That's totally normal
in circumstances such as yours. I just want you to know, you can
talk to me about anything, anytime."

Jacob blinked at the man and shifted
uncomfortably. Why did everyone want to talk? There wasn't anything
to talk about. His dad was dead, his mother was missing and he was
stuck in this freezing hole of a town. He couldn't think of
anything to say about that to Mr. Bailey, so he just nodded
stiffly.

"Well, then, right through here." Mr. Bailey
pushed open the door and strode to classroom 208. "You've got your
schedule?"

"Yeah."

"Good. There's a map of the school on the
back."

Jacob flipped the goldenrod schedule over
and saw a blueprint style drawing of the school.

Mr. Bailey motioned for him to wait while he
poked his head inside the door. He repeated Mrs. Haney's name three
times before she finally bellowed, "Mr. Bailey! How nice of you to
stop by!"

"We have our new student, Mrs. Haney," Mr.
Bailey yelled and opened the door wider. "Okay. Well, bring him
in!" The words trickled out of her mouth between cackles. Jacob
entered the room toward the decrepit old woman standing in front of
the chalkboard. He was already sure she was half deaf. By the
thickness of her glasses he supposed she was half blind, too.

"You must be Jacob. Class, this is Jacob
Laudner, our new student. Jacob, you are the spitting image of
Charlie! Do you know I taught your father here as well?"

"My name's not Laudner. It's Lau," he
said.

"What dear?" Mrs. Haney turned to watch his
lips.

"My last name is Lau," he repeated, louder
this time.

"But aren't you Charlie Laudner's son?"

It would have been easier for Jacob to just
go along, to pretend his last name was Laudner. Nobody there
would've known the difference. But it was the principle of the
matter. There were only so many things a person could lose before
they clung to what they had left.

"I am, but my last name is Lau!"

The class and Mrs. Haney stared at him
blankly. Mr. Bailey motioned to Mrs. Haney to step outside of the
classroom and she promptly complied. Through the door, he heard Mr.
Bailey attempt to discreetly explain what he knew about the name,
which couldn't have been much more than what Mrs. Whestle had told
him. Unfortunately, with her hearing as it was, Mrs. Haney was
incapable of whispering and Jacob heard frequent and embarrassing
outbursts from the conversation that left the class giggling in his
direction.

Mrs. Haney re-entered the classroom and
apologized to the class for the interruption. "Jacob…Lau then, you
will sit right here." She pointed to a desk at the front of the
room.

As he sat down, the weight of fifteen pairs
of eyes bore into him. Mrs. Haney turned to the board and continued
a lesson on the French Revolution, pointing at a map and droning on
about the civil constitution of the clergy. With her back to the
classroom, the other students began to talk openly with each other.
Jacob wasn't the only one who had figured out Mrs. Haney was hard
of hearing.

"So, what kind of name is Lau anyway?" the
boy next to him asked. He was big, built like a running back but
the gel in his brown hair made it look like he spent too much time
in front of a mirror.

"It's Chinese."

"So what, you want people to think you're
Chinese? Going for some Kung Fu rep or something?"

"No, my name is Chinese because I am
Chinese."

"You don't even look Chinese."

"Well, you don't look like a prick either,"
Jacob snapped. "But I guess you can't tell a book by its
cover."

The boy's expression melted into a
glower.

"Dane Michaels, please come to the map and
show us the area where King Louis XVI was arrested." Mrs. Haney
turned toward the class, silence flooding the room like she'd
flipped a switch. The guy rose, waiting until the last second to
break eye contact, and walked to the board.

Jacob leaned back in his seat and said to
himself, "I think I've made a friend."

"It's best if you don't call attention to
yourself," whispered a voice from behind him. Jacob turned to see
the rich russet skin of an East Indian girl, a long black braid
flipped over her shoulder. Her brown eyes connected with his and
she raised an eyebrow. "You'll only make it worse." She looked down
at her book as if it was the most interesting thing she'd ever
seen.

The bell interrupted any ideas he'd had
about talking to the girl. In seconds, she'd swept up her books and
drifted into the hall. He checked his schedule and headed down to
the gym for P.E.

The boys' class was playing basketball and
by luck, or lack of it, Dane and a boy named Mike Gibbons were
chosen as team captains. Jacob waited while everyone else was
picked first and then ended up on Mike's team by default.

Mike was the kind of kid that looked
traditionally bad at sports, thin and pale, like he spent too much
time watching television. Jacob took the opportunity to step up his
game. He'd always been a natural athlete and he thought winning
might be a way to break the ice, maybe even make a friend. His team
was ahead sixteen to twelve when Mike called a timeout.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mike said
into Jacob's ear. He was standing in a circle of frowns—the rest of
the team.

"I think I was winning the game for us,"
Jacob replied.

"Do you see that guy?" Mike said, pointing
at Dane.

Jacob nodded.

"I don't
want
to beat that guy.
Let him win."

He had to admit Dane was intimidating.
Either the guy had filled out early or he was held back a grade.
Dane was at least six foot and broad, maybe two hundred pounds of
solid muscle.

"Look, this is real simple, Lau. Don't beat
Dane." The rest of the team nodded.

But as much as Jacob wanted to, he couldn't
force himself not to try. He held back and watched Dane score but
at the change of possession, he took a three point shot at the bell
for the win. The P.E. teacher, Mr. Schroeder, gave him a knuckle
bump as he headed for the locker room. But Mike flipped him
off.

"You're a real asshole, Lau," he said.

The upside was that Dane looked furious, an
outcome Jacob wasn't completely opposed to.

Biology was just as interesting. Since Jacob
was starting in the middle of the year, everyone already had lab
partners. Everyone except the Indian girl who sat at a table by
herself. He pulled up a stool across from her and opened his book
to a random page.

"Have you figured it out yet?" she asked,
without looking up.

"Figured what out?"

"Obviously not," she said.

"What? Tell me."

Her eyes lifted to his. They were the color
of melted chocolate and she smiled the first genuine smile he'd
seen all day. "The people here have enough friends. They all know
each other, grew up together. Well, everyone but us."

"I'm Jacob, Jacob Lau."

"I heard, in history." She nodded. "Can I
call you Jake?"

No one called him Jake, but it sounded good
when she said it. "Sure."

"I'm Malini… Gupta."

"Can I call you—I don't know, how do you
shorten your name?" Jacob grinned.

"I don't, but it's not hard. Say it
MAHL-in-NEE"

"Malini."

"Good," she said, looking pleased.

"You're not from here are you?"

"Ah, no."

"Me either…obviously."

She giggled and Jacob could feel himself
relax at the sound of it, like the knot inside of him had loosened
a little. There was something about her that seemed honest and
trustworthy. Maybe it was that she didn't wear any makeup and
smelled clean like soap rather than the typical fifteen-year-old
girl stench of cheap perfume. Maybe it was the way she squared her
book in front of her and actually knew what page Mrs. Jacques would
lecture on. Whatever it was, Jacob felt like he'd found a
friend.

Mrs. Jacques began her
lecture on the components of a human cell but he found himself
phasing out. He reached over to Malini's notebook and wrote in big
sloppy letters
lunch
?

Yes,
she wrote back, beaming.

After a grueling lecture,
the bell finally rang. Jacob noticed that Malini had taken three
pages of notes on mitochondria, while his notebook simply had the
word,
mitokondrea
misspelled at the top of the page. He didn't remember a thing
Mrs. Jacques had said.

"Uhm, maybe we could study together?" Jacob
mumbled.

"Sure," she said, a hint of pride in her
voice. He stacked his books and followed her into the hall.

The cafeteria was an elongated rectangle of
picnic style folding tables. Orange trays were stacked near the
doors and two lines of students formed along the east and west
walls. One line was for a salad bar, and was made up mostly of
girls, and the other was for hot lunch. Jacob couldn't see what
they were serving but headed for the hot bar. Malini opted for a
salad.

A group of guys cut him off and the orange
tray he was holding slammed into his chest, eliciting a twinge of
pain from his healing bruise. Dane and Mike glared at him, daring
him to do something about it. Obviously his win in P.E. and the
comment in history weren't going to be forgotten anytime soon. He
let it go.

The tables were filling up fast and Jacob
wondered where he and Malini would sit. Everyone else seemed to
understand the social ecosystem of Paris High School but Jacob
wasn't speaking the language. Once he made it through the line, he
was relieved that Malini had already sat down and there was plenty
of room at her table. Plenty of room as in it was totally empty
besides Malini and her tray.

"I hope you don't mind. This is my usual
spot."

"No, not at all."

"Good. So, what do you think of your first
day?" she asked and for the first time he noticed a hint of a
mottled accent. He started to answer but was distracted by voices
behind him. The group of people at Dane's table spoke in
half-hearted whispers.

"Looks like P.S. has a new friend," Dane
said.

"Awww. Now she doesn't have to sit alone
anymore," Mike said.

"Right. She can sit with kung fu wannabe,"
Dane added with a laugh.

Jacob squinted at Malini. "Why did they call
you P.S.? What does that mean?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," she
whispered.

"Like, who does he think he is?" a girl's
voice said. Jacob glanced over his shoulder and saw a tall girl
with long brown hair whisper incredulously into Dane's ear. "Come
on, he doesn't even look Chinese."

"Amy, I know, and what's with that shirt?
It's all like 'surfer dude'," a blonde girl said, holding up her
thumb and pinky finger.

"Don't listen to them. They're all idiots,"
Malini said. She grabbed Jacob's arm. "I like your shirt."

As soon as Malini touched him, he felt warm
to his toes. He caught himself staring at her and compensated by
looking down at his shirt, suddenly self-conscious. It was his
favorite from home—a red Matsumotos's Shave Ice T-shirt. It wasn't
appropriate for the January weather but he'd layered it over a
black turtleneck and some heavy jeans.

"Who are they?" Jacob asked.

"The one with the brown hair and the big
forehead is Amy Barger. She goes out with Dane. Mike Gibbons is on
his left and the guy on the other side of him is Phillip Westcott.
They pretty much hang together all the time. The blonde who looks
like she ladles her makeup on in the morning is Missy
Hatfield."

"So, what is it with these people?" Jacob
asked. But the voices interrupted again.

"I heard from Rob that he's actually related
to the Laudners but his dad changed his last name to Lau," the one
called Phillip said.

"Why wouldn't he just use the name Laudner?
I mean it's like he wants people to know he's a gook." It was
Dane's voice this time.

Malini's eyes pleaded with Jacob to ignore
the racial slur. His jaw tightened until he thought he might snap
his own bones.

"Did they just say what I think they said?"
he asked her.

"Yes, but let it go. It's not worth it.
Trust me."

The blonde girl's voice again…Missy, "I
don't know. He's got nice hair."

"Well, he's not bad looking but who wants to
date an egg?" Amy replied.

"An egg?" Dane asked.

"You know," she lowered her voice, "white on
the outside and yellow in the middle."

The table burst into laughter. Jacob shot a
glance at Dane and his hands tightened into fists. Malini grabbed
his arm again, her delicate fingers on his wrist draining all
aggression out of him. For some reason, he didn't want to make a
scene in front of her. He was afraid if something happened, a
fight, she might get hurt. Plus, she seemed above all this, and he
wanted to be too. He turned back towards her.