The Guide

by Sarah Hozumi

Celea watched the birth of a star from the comfort of a tree branch belonging to an enormous white cedar. She watched as the remains of spirits became particles of energy that all were pushed to one point in the night sky. With a brilliant flash, there in the sea of stars, a new one. Celea couldn’t help but smile at her handywork just as she heard footsteps far below.

“We need to talk,” she heard the man say.

With one last look at her new star, Celea slowly made her way down the tree. She took great pains to ensure her footwork wouldn’t somehow disturb the white cedar, which had finally fallen asleep after a restless few hours.

“Aiden,” Celea said with a nod to the man.

“You weren’t supposed to be back in this dream yet,” he said. “There are other spirits who need your guidance.”

“There always are,” Celea said with a shrug as she discreetly studied his eyes. “I wanted to see the star being born.”

The man’s frown deepened into disapproval.

“Why must you come back every time? You can see the stars well after their birth.”

The woman laughed quietly and stretched her arms up toward the night sky.

“But the burst of light! Surely you still enjoy seeing that.”

Aiden stood unmoved and unimpressed.

“When was the last time you visited New Zealand?” he said.

The revelry Celea still felt upon witnessing a star’s creation died. She stared at the ground as she answered.

“About a year or so.”

“Go there now,” Aiden said. “I can sense three lost souls wandering around some little street in Wellington. Two of them are already so far gone.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to see the star.”

“I know, I know,” the man said as he turned from her to leave. “You told me. Just go.”

Celea had a pattern she liked to follow when removing spirits from a country. For New Zealand, her pattern was to move clockwise around the northern island before making a counter- clockwise sweep of the southern island. She stopped along the major cities of the northern island, including Auckland, Rotorua and Napier before landing in Wellington. Up until Wellington, she had managed to save 28,181 spirits and destroyed 66,333 spirits who were too far gone to save.

During her year-long expedition to New Zealand, Celea often quietly dreamt of her sanctuary and viewed the night sky from her favorite white cedar. None of the other guides broke the rules so flamboyantly out of fear of Aiden, but Celea felt intrigued by him.

“Have you visited Wellington yet?” Aiden called during one of her excursions to stargaze in her dream. Again he stood beneath the great cedar, again with the frown on his face. He seemed too young to be so responsible, Celea couldn’t help but think as she waved at him from the high branch.

“Come up here,” she said. “It’s so beautiful at night.”

“It’s always night here,” Aiden said.

“When was the last time you climbed one of these trees?” Celea said as she rested her head against the tree’s trunk. A forest so rich with massive trees would have surely scared other people, who didn’t appreciate the darkness, but here in this world, it was glorious.

Aiden was suddenly on the branch below hers.

“I asked you if you have visited Wellington,” he said.

“Not yet,” Celea said. She held her hand out to him, but he didn’t take it.

Aiden quietly touched his chest.

“I can feel the souls decaying there, Celea,” he said. “They need help before we can’t save them anymore. You already had to destroy how many souls?”

“Around 67,000,” Celea said. She sighed and closed her eyes in frustration as she put her head back against the tree trunk. “I know I should have done a better job patrolling the country, but…”

“But what?” Aiden said. “We have a sworn duty to save them! Who else is here to guide them but us? I pray you never feel what they do. The loneliness. The terror. The unknown.”

“It’s tiring,” Celea said. “The constant headaches from doing this job, the souls we can’t help move on anymore. I was maybe one day late saving one in Napier. One day.”

Aiden climbed up to her branch and sat opposite her. His pale blue eyes seemed to find pity for her.

“You can feel them, too, though, can’t you?”

Celea absentmindedly clutched at her own chest as she looked away from him.

“Of course I can. But I’m tired, Aiden. I think if it helps me do this job more effectively, I should be allowed to come here whenever I want and relax.” She pointed at the stars behind Aiden. “When was the last time you just sat here and enjoyed all the good we’ve done?”

Aiden closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his shoulders hunched over as though someone was pushing him down.

“Not in a very long time,” he said.

He turned from her and gazed up at the stars, allowing their light to envelope him. A great sigh of content escaped his lips as his eyes slowly wandered from star to star. Each star was made up of billions of spirits they had helped save. They shone so brilliantly down on him now.

“If you can only feel the pain, how can we help anyone?” Celea said. “We must keep our eyes on the stars as we save them, Aiden. That’s the only way this can work.”

The man whom Celea had never met in real life turned and touched her cheek.

“You are so young,” he said. “I have been guiding spirits for a long time. Sometimes I feel we are losing this war.”

“We need more guides,” Celea said. “We can’t hope to win without more.”

Aiden dropped his hand and stole a glance at the stars again.

“So few possess our gifts. Maybe one day that will change.”

“I have hope,” Celea said. “The stars help me keep it.”

Celea took his hand into hers. He closed his eyes and touched her hand to his face.

“Thank you,” he said. “You have renewed me.”

The guide woke from her dream to find herself still in the motel off the highway leading into Wellington. She packed up her small suitcase of belongings, stuffed her rental cell phone into her pocket and got into her rental car.

It took her several days to locate the street haunted by three spirits – two who were almost beyond Celea’s reach.

Her mind still half on Aiden and the lost opportunity to see him, Celea guided the two spirits to the beyond. The third ghost would prove trickier, however. Being newly dead, he needed reassurances and closure before he allowed her to guide him.

A half hour later, the ghost safely departed, Celea walked alone toward the end of the street, not sure where she was heading. Given the late hour, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her hotel room and dream again, but her legs were moving her beyond, to the opposite end of the street from her hotel.

As she walked, she thought of the spirit she had just helped guide. He had been horribly young but certainly not the youngest she had ever seen. He had stayed because he had been worried about his mother. The thought moved her. Celea hadn’t thought about her mother in years.

She turned left at the end of Cuba Street and made her way down the road, still wondering where she could possibly be going so late at night. After having thrown her phone into the ridiculous bucket fountain, Celea’s phone was dead. What if someone attacked her? It seemed late enough at night for something like that to happen.

At least there seemed to be no spirits left who needed guidance. Celea could move on to the southern island in the morning. If she could at least get back to her hotel. She looked down at her own feet, wondering where they were taking her. What was this pull she felt? Not the usual pain she felt that led her to wayward spirits; this felt warm.

Celea came to a beautiful mural painted in reds, whites and blacks. There, standing amid a row of young trees before the mural, stood a man. He smiled and waved timidly at her as she approached.

“I admit to there being ulterior motives to my wanting you in Wellington,” Aiden said with a nervous laugh.

She stared at him in amazement. “You live here?”

Aiden nodded. “I thought it was time we met in real life.” He gently pulled her hand into his. “Although I have to say dreaming with you is quite pleasant.”

The woman looked Aiden up and down in delighted shock.

“But, you said you had been doing this for a long time. I thought in real life you were in your 90s.”

The man laughed perhaps too loudly.

“Oh I don’t age, Celea,” he said. He noted with some amusement her mouth had fallen open. “I’m not quite like you, though close.”

“What are you, then?” Celea said.

“A guide, a guide,” he said. “But unlike you, I will be here forever. When you die, perhaps I can guide you into becoming a new star.”

Celea managed a smile.

“I would like that, as long as you promise to look at me every now and then.”

Aiden kissed her hand.

“I will,” he said. “Thank you for helping me. I have been feeling lost for a while now. Seeing you up in that tree, admiring our work, it reminded me of why I was created.”

Celea gazed at the trees gently swaying over their heads as they stood before the murals.

A few cars rushed past, but the street was otherwise silent, unmoved by her revelry.

Sarah Hozumi is a translator and rewriter who has lived near Tokyo for about 12 years. Along with having a fantastic time learning Japanese, she loves photography and gardening. To see other short stories she’s had published, and to read her blog mostly about all things Japan, plus photos of Japan, please visit sarahhozumi.com. You can also find her author’s page on Facebook at: sarahjhozumi.