The Soul of Adam Short

By David J. O'Brien

The cares of life are beginning to cloud fifteen-year-old Adam Short's carefree existence. Important exams are looming, his girlfriend Julie thinks he's not focused, and right now he's about to be late for the school trip. Neither his teacher, nor Julie, will be pleased if the misses the bus.

But suddenly Adam has much bigger problems when, in an extraordinary accident, his soul is torn from his body. His body loses all consciousness - reduced to a mere automaton existence: eating when food is put in its mouth, moving when guided, reacting only to touch. Meanwhile, Adam, discovering that ghosts are very much real, is trapped without a body, and stuck in a place from which he cannot freely leave.

Only the untiring efforts of his girlfriend Julie – who had never considered the existence of a soul, and for whom the idea of ghosts is laughable – against the advice of everyone around her, including her parents, Adam's doctor, and his best friend can save Adam. Will she be able to figure out what has happened to Adam? Even if she does, can Julie help Adam escape the scene of his accident, and return the life to his body?

• Language: English
• Publisher: David J. O'Brien
• Release date: Aug 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223717256

David J. O'Brien

David J O’Brien is an Irish ecologist, poet, fiction writer and teacher. He was born in Dublin, studied environmental biology and zoology at University College Dublin. He taught English in Madrid for four years, biology in Boston for seven years and now teaches English and science in Pamplona, Spain, where he lives with his wife, daughter, and son. He is still involved in deer biology and management, and has written about deer watching for Ireland’s Wildlife and deer management for the Irish Wildlife Trust. His non-academic writing is often influenced by science and the natural world—sometimes seeking to describe the science behind the supernatural. His poems have been published in several anthologies and journals, such as Albatross, Houseboat, and Misty Mountain Review. His paranormal horror trilogy, Silver Nights: Leaving the Pack, Leading the Pack and Unleashing the Pack, contemporary adult fiction novels Five Days on Ballyboy Beach, and The Ecology of Lonesomeness, have been published by Tirgearr Publishing. His young readers fairy tale novel Peter and the Little People and paranormal YA The Soul of Adam Short were published by MuseItUp Publishing and are now self-published, as is his dystopian novella The Logical Solution and short story collection, Last Light on the Sage Flats. More of his writing, including poems and blogs about nature, rewilding and wildlife management, can be found at http://davidjmobrien.wordpress.com/

Book preview

Prologue: The Foley Brothers

Paddy Foley stood on the porch step and began to yawn. He was interrupted, however, by the rough shoulder of his brother Frank, a year older and a few inches taller, pushing him out of the way.

C’mon, will you. Enough of your yawning. We should’ve been there ten minutes ago. He strode off the wide porch, across the wet concrete farmyard, and away, leaving Paddy stretching and trying to yawn again.

Nobody’s fault but your own that you’re tired.

Paddy looked at his brother through bleary eyes and followed him across the yard on stiff legs. It was true he’d only himself to blame for the way he was feeling. It had been a very late night, and he’d been drenched on the way home by a heavy thunderstorm. Nevertheless, Paddy reckoned it had been worth it, despite the early start he had this morning. Both he and Frank always had early starts—even before they’d left school to take a bigger hand in looking after their father’s farm. The old man was getting on, and was glad of the two lads to do the donkey work—things like getting up at the crack of dawn to bring in the cows for milking.

Still, Paddy wasn’t complaining. It was a hard job, but one he loved. Frank loved it too; neither of them had felt any urge to stay on in school or learn a trade. The farm was prosperous, and the Foleys were not inclined to sell it to the property developers who were intent on extending the boundaries of Bentham out into the country thereabouts. Paddy thought, as he opened the door of his father’s old Ford pick-up, that at least now in May the mornings were nice and bright and even sunny like today, making the early rise almost pleasant.

What’re you doing? Frank asked. He was nearly at the yard gate and had turned around to face his younger brother. We’re going down to the lower fields; you know we’re not supposed to take the truck on the main road.

Frank was seventeen but had yet to sit his driving test, though both he and Paddy could drive perfectly well.

Paddy looked at his brother with scorn. No chance. I’m not walking over a mile for the sake of two minutes on the main road. Come on, will you, I’ll drive. Who’s going to be on the road this time of the morning?

Frank hesitated. The old man would be annoyed, but chances were they’d be back before he even woke up. It was a bit of a pain to walk all the way, even with a good night’s sleep, and the cows always walked a little quicker with the truck behind them. There were usually few others out—though they lived along the old London road, most motorists now took the bypass out to the motorway, making the main road little more than a country lane nowadays.

Sure, what’s the harm? he asked himself, and nodded to Paddy, who was already turning over the engine and closing the driver’s door at the same time. Frank walked on to the gate, letting it swing open with a squeak. He stamped at a couple of chickens who had wandered over, scattering them out of the way of the truck, which rolled past him, the engine idling loudly.

Paddy halted the old pick-up outside the gate. It had been bought new by their father in 1955, but was now looking and sounding much the worse for nearly twenty years on a farm. Still, it was a good old workhorse, thought Paddy, as he waited while Frank swung the gate shut and hopped in opposite him. Paddy put it in gear and launched them along the dirt lane that would bring them to the main road.

The sun was beaming across the fields, rising quickly up into a sky washed clear blue by the previous night’s storm. Songbirds flitted in and out of the hedgerows, where hawthorn flowers were fading, now and then swooping low across the road just in front of the truck.

Frank held on to the handrail above the door as the truck bounced along the potholed road. Slow down a bit, will you? he said, looking over at Paddy. We’re not in that much of a rush.

Paddy glanced back and grinned. He loved driving. You said a few minutes ago that we were late.

They’re only cows, Paddy. They can wait a few minutes.

Don’t want to lose any milk, though, do we?

Frank shook his head. There was no point trying to slow him down. Paddy should have been a racing driver instead of a farmer. But regardless of ability, he’d been out late and had only slept a few hours, and Frank was sure he’d snuck a couple of beers into the bargain. He should really get his brother to ease off the accelerator.

The truck lurched out into the middle of the road, as Paddy swung the wheel to the right. Frank put his hand on the dashboard to steady himself. Christ, Paddy.

Someone’s damned dog. shouted Paddy as he struggled to keep control of the steering.

Frank hadn’t seen it, but what he had seen was the gravel spread across the road in front of them as they came around the curve in the road. The rain must have washed it out of the ditch, he thought, at the same time realising they had reached their destination and Paddy was still going at least sixty miles an hour. What the hell, Paddy? he yelled. Watch the gravel—this is the field here. Stop the bloody truck.

That’s what I’m trying to do, Frank. his brother shouted back as he slammed on the brakes, making the truck lurch again as it skidded on the gravel, sliding ninety degrees toward the hedgerow on the right side of the road.

Oh, Jesus, no. Frank screamed, as Paddy fought the wheel in an effort to keep the truck on the road.

But he couldn’t. It slammed into the hedge. The front wheels bounced off the bank. The steering wheel spun anticlockwise. Paddy's hand was wrenched from it. He lost all ability to try to control the vehicle. Twigs, thorns, and broken branches scraped across the wings and windows as they crashed through the bushes.

Instinctively, the two boys put their arms up to protect their faces, but nothing could help them. The pick-up bounced down upon a rock with a horrible scraping sound. The fuel line ruptured and the impact ignited the diesel gushing out, sending flames bursting through the dashboard, licking up around the bonnet. The truck continued rolling at speed, carried by its momentum along the open field, sending a herd of sheep stampeding away.

When the fuel tank exploded, the truck was a moving metal cage of flame.

When it finally stopped, only yards from the road, a passing motorist alerted the police but made no effort to try to pull the bodies from the blaze. There was no point.

When the local constable arrived, it was only the fact he recognised the truck that he knew it was old John Foley to whom he had to pay a visit that morning.

Chapter One: Class Dismissed

Julie Lawless, a short , slim girl of sixteen, with long, wavy, fair hair, sat sideways in her seat, her legs leaning out of the side of her desk. The class was nearly over. The other students in the class were also ready to get up from their desks and head for the door; some of them were not even listening to Mr McDaid at this stage, but Julie was.

Okay. That will do for today, he said. Now, before you go. About tomorrow: don’t forget to bring something for lunch. We won’t have time to go to any fast-food places—if I were inclined to bring you to eat that awful rubbish—so ask your parents for a sandwich, or, better still, make one yourself. The bus will be here at eight o’clock sharp, so don’t be late. We can’t spend half the morning waiting for stragglers. Therefore, those of you who can’t get out of bed on time and don’t make it will have to spend the day with Five-C, doing extra lessons. And there will be homework and a quiz based on what you see in the museum. That means if you miss the bus you’ll have to find out the information in the library on your own time. Everyone got that? Good. See you at five to eight. Dismissed.

Julie got up with everyone else as they began to file out, most without a backward glance at the tall, lean man as he surveyed the class. A few students nodded to Mr McDaid as they exited; some even said goodbye or ‘see you." The two girls in front of Julie mumbled goodbye, while the two boys that Julie was leaving the room with merely raised their eyebrows to their teacher as they passed. Mr McDaid, however, addressed them.

You two young men were no doubt taking in what I said? Neither of you can afford to let your biology grade slip at this stage of the year.

The two nodded glumly and walked on, glancing back at Julie, who smiled broadly and said, See you in the morning, sir, her grin revealing perfect teeth. She’d had her braces removed a few days previously and was showing her newly straightened teeth off to the world. She was the only student who called him, sir, outside of a direct answer of: Yes, sir, or No, sir.

Mr McDaid smiled back, pushing his glasses back into their correct position on the bridge of his nose. He was Julie’s favourite teacher, because, besides the fact Mr McDaid was a nice man who didn’t stalk the classroom like some other teachers, he was the biology teacher, and biology was Julie’s favourite subject.

Julie knew she was Mr McDaid’s favourite student in the class. Simply because she was the best in the class, Julie wasn’t the type of person to put her hand up continually, however. She didn’t like to be the centre of attention and in fact liked to be left alone to a certain extent. She was as apt as the next student to have a quick chat or pass notes while the teacher was busy writing on the blackboard or otherwise engaged. The centre of attention she left for the more boisterous and less shy of her classmates, who were not necessarily the ones who knew any answers at all.

In any case, there were plenty of other subjects in which Julie was far from the best student, and in those, she was more than happy to let others answer the questions. In biology she also kept her head and hands down and kept at least one ear open to what Mr McDaid said, waiting until he called her name before volunteering the answer. The secret of her ability was she usually read the textbook in her spare time. It didn’t start out like that, but when she was doing her homework and looking up a question, she often ended up half an hour later with the chapter read completely and half of her favourite soap missed on the television.

Julie slung her bag over her shoulder as she strolled down the corridor after the other students. Hope you two were paying attention there, Adam and Simon. She laughed at them. They paused and waited for her to catch up, giving her matching deprecating looks. Adam Short and Simon Goodall were best friends and had been inseparable since the age of five, when they had fought for the same seat on their first day of school, and the teacher had punished them by putting their desks together. Recently, however, they had spent less time together, because Adam spent most of his time with Julie, and while Julie liked Simon, neither she nor Adam wanted him around all of the time.

What time will I see you, Adam? Julie asked the taller of the two boys. He was just a few weeks off turning sixteen. A hint of embarrassment clouded his beard-covered face momentarily, and he flashed a look at his friend before turning around to her.

Julie glanced at Simon before Adam had a chance to reply. A handsome face was marked along one cheek by an inch-long scar. The scar didn’t disfigure him in any way, and in fact, would probably make his face more distinguished once the soft down which grew along his jaw had filled out into a proper beard. Simon was the oldest in the class, but still liked to play the fool in class and was one of the people Julie allowed take centre stage. The question she wanted answered was whether Adam was also thinking of staying at home and missing the trip, as she assumed Simon was planning. From the looks of it, he was.

You are going, aren’t you? she asked, when she had returned her attention to him.

Adam replied quickly. Of course I am. I’ll be here at five to eight, same as the rest. He shot Simon a look that said not to argue and turned back to Julie. She flashed her new smile at him, taking his free hand in hers, happy she had helped him avoid what she considered a stupid decision to skip school so near to the exams and, almost equally important, had helped herself avoid a whole day without his company.

Julie and Adam had been going out together for over a year, almost since they had begun to want to have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Julie remembered that Adam had been a bit slow on the uptake at first. In fact, she’d almost given up and turned her attention to Simon (who, despite acting like a big kid most of the time, had been interested in girls for ages, and had gone out with one of her friends, Cheryl Bates, for a while) when Adam finally woke up to her presence.

Since that moment had arrived, however, they’d been practically inseparable. Adam was the sweetest, kindest, and most sensitive guy that she’d ever met. He was also the funniest in his own way—which was very different from his friend Simon or the other boys in their class who liked the limelight, Julian Simms and Christian Fisher. However, like them, he wasn’t always the most sensible bloke in the world. A prime example of that was even entertaining the idea of skipping school a month before their GCSEs.

Julie was looking forward to the following day’s trip. They were going to visit the Natural History Museum. It was her favourite museum. To be honest, it was the only one she liked, and the only one she would willingly visit. She was bored by most of the stuff that the other museums contained. She didn’t find it at all interesting to look at old pieces of pottery or bent bronze coins. It wasn’t as if what the Romans or Neanderthals did thousands of years ago had anything to do with her own life or the lives of the people around her. Okay, they’d left some nice baths in Bath and pretty ruins around the place, but apart from that, what had the Romans done that was of any use?

But the Natural History Museum was a different matter—the rows of exhibits were a marvel, each one holding a wonder of the natural world to be discovered. There were animals she could only hope to see, like whales and monkeys, ones that she could never see: extinct species like the dodo and the Tasmanian tiger, and ones she hoped to see one day: bears and snow leopards. There were others that were right there under her nose in England that she had yet to get a glimpse of: badgers, moles, pine martins, and long-eared owls, as well as some of the weirder life forms, such as the giant squid and its predator, the sperm whale.

It could only be made better by having Adam there alongside her. She could show him all these wonders and maybe get him to appreciate them a little the way she did. At the very least, she told herself, and smiled, squeezing his hand while they made their way out of the building, she could bore him in the same way he bored her by giving long explanations of the exhibits in the other museums and making her look through old newspapers and books in the library.

I’m glad to hear it, she told Adam. And I’m not happy to hear you are going to skip it, Simon Goodall. Were you even listening to Mr McDaid?

Course I was. ‘You two can’t afford to let your biology grade slip at this stage of the year,’ He imitated their teacher in a high-pitched, complaining voice.

She shook her head, exasperated. Don’t you think you’re a bit old for playing truant?

Simon swerved out of the way of an approaching sixth-former before turning to Julie and the others with a mischievous grin.

"No. I don’t think one is ever too old," he replied in a posh voice.

The two girls who had also hung back to let Julie catch up began to chuckle at that, while Adam slapped Simon on the back, grinning as well.

Well, said Samantha Fenchotte, a pretty girl who had been Julie’s best friend for the last four years of school, "We all know one who’ll never be too old to stop."

"Don’t you mean ‘never be old enough to think of stopping’? asked Ruth Handel, turning to her friends with a flick of her hair. Or rather, mature enough." She added with a wide smile.

Simon’s grin faded and he stuck his nose up at the three girls, causing them to laugh aloud.

They all walked out into brilliant sunshine. It was the last day of April, but the showers the month was famed for had given way to warm, bright weather in the last few days. Julie walked with Adam, still holding his hand as they followed Simon, Samantha, and Ruth across the yard toward the school gate. She wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day. She and Ruth were going to Samantha’s house to study for an hour or two. Julie was equally as sure that neither Samantha nor Ruth wanted Adam there to distract her—and by extension, them—as she was that Adam would balk at the idea of studying with