The Reincarnationist

Chapter 36

Sophia Lombardo interrupted before Malachai could stop her. “She’s always played this little game that she’s a woman named Claudia.”

“For how long?”

“Ever since she could talk.”

Malachai looked at Josh above the child’s head and then back to the little girl. “So you are Claudia?”

She sobbed. “Yes.”

“And what happened to your sister?”

“She was in the tomb. She was not supposed to die at all…but she did…and she never saw her baby again.”

“That’s very sad, and I’m sorry,” Malachai said very seriously. “Was the baby all right?”

The little girl nodded her head and the curls went flying. “I took care of the baby.”

“That was very good of you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

The child looked at him with some confusion. Whatever spell she’d been under broke. She let go of Josh’s leg, backed up and looked down at the ground shyly, as if she were suddenly embarrassed.

“Do you remember what we just talked about, Natalie?” Malachai asked her.

She nodded.

Josh felt his camera on his chest. He wanted to look at this child through the lens, but he didn’t want to scare her. He caught Malachai’s attention and pointed to the Leica. Malachai whispered his request to her mother, who nodded.

“Can I ask you two or three other questions?” Malachai asked. “It would help me a lot and it might help you, too. I know many children who remember being other people. I know how to make it hurt less.”

Natalie looked up at her mother, who nodded yes.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“And would it be okay if my friend took your picture? It would mean so much to me.”

She looked up at Josh and beamed. The idea of him taking her picture appealed to her.

“So, do you hear Claudia’s thoughts often?” Malachai asked.

“Once in a while. Mostly when I am going to sleep,” she said.

Josh focused. It was there. The iridescent white light streamed off her shoulders and arced into the atmosphere, dissipating as it fanned out.

“It’s wonderful that you can do that. Is there something that Claudia needs you to do for her?”

The blue eyes lifted to him, and in them was gratitude. Not a child’s appreciation. It was the look of a full-grown woman who had suffered profound loss.

Josh took her photograph before she answered Malachai, while she was just still looking at him, absorbing the offer. For a few moments he felt more like himself than he had in days. The camera connected him to who he had been before the accident. Holding equipment, doing his job, everything else fell away. The music of the machine, its clicks and whirrs, steadied him, and the disjointed zigzags of dark emotion that had been weighing him down for days lifted. In the viewfinder he could see that Natalie was relaxing, too. Keeping up a steady stream of easy dialogue with Malachai, she seemed to have forgotten the anguish of only a few minutes ago. Josh had seen this before. Malachai connected to the children he worked with in a way that really did seem like magic. Communicating with them about their pain, frustration and disturbing hallucinations, he almost always was able to soothe them.

It was a gift, Josh had told him.

Malachai had answered that if it was, it had come out of grief and wasn’t worth the cost. When Josh had pressed him to explain, he’d shrugged it off. “I learned about sadness when I was too young for such a lesson, so I relate to what these children are going through.”

He didn’t explain what kind of sadness.

Josh and Malachai walked with Natalie and her mother back to their car. Sophia put some music on the CD player, sat Natalie in the front seat with a doll, and then stood outside with them and asked what had just happened.

Malachai stepped away with Sophia to explain, and Josh focused his camera on Natalie again. The haunted look in her eyes disappeared as she concentrated on undressing her doll and redressing her in what looked like an ancient Roman costume. The mother-of-pearl nimbus was still there.

“Natalie, come down and say goodbye like a big girl,” Sophia said after she’d finished talking to Malachai.

Natalie climbed out of the car, shook Malachai’s hand and thanked him. He pulled a small silk frog out of their handshake and delighted her with it as a gift. “How did you do that?” she asked, starry-eyed.

“It’s magic,” he smiled.

Josh hadn’t seen the trick coming. He was never looking in the right place at the right time.

The little girl turned to Josh to show him the toy. As soon as her eyes rested on him they filled with tears and the smile disappeared from her face.

Malachai knew what had just happened before Josh did. “Natalie?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“You’re Claudia now?”

“Yes. And my sister…my sister…” She was crying hard now and couldn’t get the words out at all.

“What happened to your sister? It’s okay to tell me. Maybe I can help you,” Malachai said, but Natalie was focused on Josh, who leaned down to her level.

“What was your sister’s name?” Josh whispered.

“Sabina,” she said. “And she can’t breathe.”

The small voice was a child’s, but in his ears the one word sounded like a volcanic explosion spewing forth and burying him under its white-hot lava.

“That was a long time ago, Claudia. She’s at peace now,” Malachai said.

Natalie was still looking up at Josh. “We loved her so much, didn’t we?” she said to him.

“Yes, we did,” he whispered, shivers creeping over every inch of his skin.