Finding Cherish

Cherish delicately unfolded the piece of paper revealing a drawing of a heart-shaped locket. Mom’s heart. Droplets of rain began to fall and stained the paper when suddenly the rain stopped. Cherish looked up to see Dory holding a small, tattered umbrella over her, his face ever stoic but dark blue eyes showing a hint of empathy. She quickly folded the paper and tucked it into the left breast pocket of her worn aqua-colored vest before running into the shelter of the market ahead. Dory surveyed the way they came from, seeing far beyond the gray, crumbling metropolis, his eyes now betraying a sense of urgency. It began to downpour as Dory followed suit toward the market, his dress shoes clacking over the ruptured cold gray roads of yesteryear.

Entering the dank market, Cherish couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose at the myriad of smells ranging from deep fried zingers to months and perhaps years of unbathed humanity. She scuttled along past the colorful material and food tents, her stomach growling as she stopped to eye a slab of smoked spam…and the glare of the vendor. Cherish continued toward the arts and crafts until she finally saw it, the tent adorned with Christmas lights. Her heart pounded as she approached. The lights didn’t flash anymore but the jewelry was still there, chains and necklaces, crosses, and earrings…but no locket.

“How may I help you little missy?” asked the old vendor. Cherish shook her head,

“It’s not here.”

“What’s not where?”

“Mom’s heart.”

“Heart? Heart…. oh, you must mean the old lockets I used to sell. Yes, I had quite a few but not anymore.” Cherish pulled out the piece of paper.

“How about this one?”

“Why…. yes, yes! I remember that one. Traded it awhile back to a man from the mountains outside the city. Big, burly, but pleasant fellow-” Cherish ran off to find Dory but the teeming masses of people soon became overwhelming. She finally spotted an empty seat at a partially occupied table and sat down. As she looked around, she noticed other people eating voraciously and her growling stomach returned. Suddenly she smelled the smoked spam again, closing her eyes and wishing for a taste. When she opened them, Dory was looking at her inquisitively and nodded toward the table in front of her where he had brought a steaming hot, thick slab of smoked spam.

Sparkling gold and silver, candy canes dancing around the heady scent of fir, familiar enchanting laughter. Mom! Cherish ran toward the kitchen and there she was, as beautiful as she remembered dressed in a baggy holiday ugly sweater and red skirt with antlers on her head. Cherish ran into her mom and hugged her tight.

“My sweet girl. What’s wrong?”

“I miss you”, replied Cherish, tears flowing. Her mom knelt and pecked her on the forehead.

“I miss you too sweetie, and I’m here for you always…”

Cherish opened her eyes and could hear the chirping of birds and the gentle wind blowing through the trees. Suddenly Dory appeared over her, his curious eyes studying hers.

“We should start moving.”

They resumed their trek through the mountains and before long began to hear faint singing in the distance. Dory led the way as the voice became deeper and more transparent. At last, they came to a clearing where they discovered the haunting, melodious voice belonged to a large, bearded man. His back was to them, and he was kneeling.

“I wonder if that’s the guy,” Cherish whispered.

The man then got up and turned around carrying an armful of white, pink, and blue-violet balloon flowers, walking solemnly past Dory and Cherish. The man stopped and deeply inhaled the scent of the flowers, smiling with a twinge of sadness.

“She planted these. These were her favorite. To her they were a celebration. She would’ve wanted these with her. You two are welcome to come.”

Dory and Cherish looked at each other and joined the man. The three walked in silence until they came to a small house. In front was a decorated funeral pyre.

“Wait here, please.”

The man placed the flowers in a large hand-weaved basket and went inside. He came out carrying a woman and placed her gently on the pyre. She was beautiful and flawless, almost as if she were merely sleeping.

“Dory, what if she’s not…” whispered Cherish.

“She is. The man is…. genuine”, answered Dory.

Cherish looked at Dory and was reassured, he seemed to trust the man. The man then grabbed the basket of flowers and started to place them around the pyre. Cherish took some flowers and helped him, giving a handful to Dory who at first hesitated before putting them reverently at the woman’s feet. Cherish placed the last flower in the woman’s hand.

“Thank you,” the man said. “I know she’s smiling down upon us and grateful for our new friends. Her name was Marion. She loved the sea, grew up on an island but moved to the mountains for a wandering oaf like me. Speaking of wandering oaf, I am Wendell.”

“Nice to meet you Wendell,” Cherish waved to the sky, “and Marion. My name is Cherish and this is Dory. Mom called him my bodyguard but he’s just weird.”

A hearty roar of laughter erupted from Wendell.

“Well, Cherish and…Dory, like the fish?”

“Yeah, his eyes are the same color, almost.”

Wendell studied Dory’s eyes, a flash of recognition registering.

“A pleasure to meet you both.”

Wendell then took something out of his coat pocket, the heart-shaped locket.

“I traded for this a few years ago, a gift for Marion on our anniversary. She loved it but she was a firm believer that man doesn’t take anything with them when they die. But I like to believe a piece of her spirit is with it and that much goodness in the world shouldn’t be burnt up. Cherish, I wanna give this locket to you.”

“I…what about you?”

“Oh, I already have my souvenirs from Marion.” Wendell lifted his shirt to reveal a solid hulkish physique riddled with scars and burns.

“Marion did all that to you?”, asked a shocked Cherish.

“Hmm? Oh no not those, this little tattoo here ya see? Under my arm.”

Cherish and Dory had to lean in close until they finally spotted the tiny ‘R <3 W’ somewhere between a gunshot wound and what appeared to be a branding.

“Marion was a great artist, up there with Picasso and Michelangelo. You could easily see her work in those fancy galleries with people getting lost in them and discovering things about themselves they never knew. She started dabbled in tattooing before the world went to hell. Hmph. Well, I better get this thing started. Stay the night, I’ll rustle up some tea and got some tasty stew brewing.”

“Thank you, but we must be heading back to the city soon. Our trek through the mountains has taken much time,” said Dory.

Wendell scratched his scruffy beard and asked, “That reminds me, what are you two city-folk doing way out in these parts?”

Cherish pulled out the paper, handing it to Wendell. He unfolded it and was in awe as he looked back and forth between the drawing and the locket.

“It was my mom’s heart, but I’m glad it was also yours and Marion’s.”

Wendell smiled, folded the paper, and gave Cherish the paper and locket.

“Then the heart must go where it belongs.”

Cherish gave Wendell a big hug. Dory offered a handshake, but Wendell clasped his hand and pulled the solemn bodyguard in for a bear hug.

“Will you stay here alone?”, asked Cherish.

Wendell shrugged, “I think it’s time to live up to my name again and keep it moving. Marion would want that too.”

He then proceeded to light the pyre and they watched in silence as it was engulfed in flames.

Darkness fell as Cherish and Dory hoofed it through the city, the dimming fire of Marion’s pyre barely visible in the mountains. Cherish was exhausted and could barely keep up with Dory who moved with great urgency. It was too quiet, and they hadn’t seen a single soul.

“Dory, why can’t we just stay in the city for the night?”

“It’s too close. We must make it to the coast, then you’ll be safe. All of us can protect you there.”

They were approaching the city limits and Dory calculated a mile, maybe less to go as the winds picked up.

“Dory…. I’m so…. ti-aahh!” Cherish tripped and fell. Dory felt the darkness thicken and knew they were out of time. He picked up Cherish and ran as fast as he could, nearly reaching the city limits. WHIP! WHOOSH!! Dory was violently thrown down, making sure to shelter Cherish from the brunt of the impact.

“Cherish, run.” Craackk!! A sickening sound of breaking bones and cartilage reverberated through the night as Dory was lifted into the air.

“Dory no!!!”

Dory’s sabre glinted like righteous lightning as the Guardian pulled out his weapon and slashed at the moving Darkness, yielding a soul-splitting shriek. Its grip released him, but he was badly wounded.

“Dory!!” Cherish looked one last time at Guardian D0629 whom she affectionately named after the famous lost blue fish, her protector for as long as she could remember. Dory smiled and she saw something in his eyes she never saw before: tears. The last image Cherish had of Dory was him being surrounded by the moving Darkness, fighting valiantly and fiercely like any Guardian would. She ran as fast as she could to the coast, hearing Dory’s agony then the Darkness screeching toward her like a menacing locomotive. She could hear the waves crashing and soon felt the stinging salt of the sea, illuminated in all its treacherous glory by the mighty island fortress Cherish called home. The sand slowed her down and she could hear the sharp whipping of the moving Darkness slicing through the earth, inching closer. The boat she and Dory arrived on was beached just ahead and with the Darkness now nipping at her heels she held onto the locket and made a last gasp jump into the boat. Covering her head Cherish shut her eyes and waited for the final blow to come but it never did. The Darkness screeched and retreated inland.

“C’mon you wilted shadow bastards! Picking on little children?! Feel the wrath of Wendell, King of the Mountain, Wielder of the Flame, Keeper of the Valley of Violet Petals, and destroyer of…. WILTED SHADOW BASTARDS!!”

Wendell brought down a fury of fire, tearing apart the wall of moving Darkness. He effortlessly twirled an immense war club lined with large, jagged fangs and savagely hacked and pummeled the Darkness as he ran down to Cherish and began pushing the boat to sea.

“Wendell!”

“Remember Cherish, the heart must go where it belongs.”

With one last mighty thrust Wendell sent Cherish and the boat skidding into the ocean. She saw Wendell surrounded ready to make his last stand when the ocean lit up and the trumpets of the Guardians sounded, the most beautiful thing she ever heard. Guardian patrols fired at the Darkness on the beach, finally destroying it. As the smoke cleared, she thought she saw the silhouette of Wendell, still standing twirling his club.

Cherish, now a young adult sat next to her mother the Great Lady still lying in slumber for over a decade.

“And that was when the Guardians rescued me. I never saw Wendell again, but heard he’s still fighting other Darkness on the mainland. I miss Dory. I miss you mom. Hope you’ll wake up again soon. I’ll be back tomorrow, maybe share another gem from my diary you probably heard a thousand times.”

Cherish kissed her mother on the forehead and left. The Great Lady rested peacefully with the heart-shaped locket around her neck, then suddenly her eyes began to stir….

~Fili