Heart-Shaped Box

Heart-Shaped Box

By Marie South

The bombs had done their damage well, Donna thought as she made her way through the rubble. No one knew which group had done the damage. At least that was what the Sergeant had said. She had heard the phrase ‘war is hell’ spoken many times, even before the war began. Now that the country was in the middle of World War III, almost everyone in America sang it like a song. Those idiots had no idea.

Donna was born during the war; her mother having given birth in an old, dilapidated shack. There were complications, so her mother died shortly after she was born. Her father checked out by purposely standing in the way of a missile, leaving Donna to fend for herself at a young age. She survived by begging people in the streets or out and out stealing. As a result, she was scrawny. Her red hair was tied back from her face. She discovered that showing her eyes forced the merchants to see her. It was an effective way to beg. However, it only worked once, and there weren’t many marks.

As she ambled along, she looked amongst the unraveled pieces of lives lost. It was taking advantage of someone who died. Exploiting the pain of others wasn’t exactly what Donna had in mind. The bombs had hit days ago. Whatever there was had been picked over. At least this was what Donna told herself when she picked. She looked all around her before she began digging. When she saw no one watching her, she turned to a small pile of rubble. Blindly, she thrust her hands into the pile and began her work for the day.

At first, she didn’t find much. She picked up photos, barely looked at them, and threw them aside. Photos didn’t bring any money. When she first began digging through a person’s private property, she looked at every photo. She spent most of her time looking, less so on scrounging. It was the latter that brought money into her pocket. If the police were still in force, they might chase her away. The only authority around here were the soldiers. They didn’t stick around. She had once asked about the Sergeant and was simply told he had been ‘removed.’ She learned that meant he was dead. For no reason at all, it had made her cry. Perhaps it was because she lost loved ones, perhaps it was because she liked the sarge. He was one of a few adults who cared about her, either that or he knew how to act.

Donna dug deeper, expanding the hole a little wider. There was a slight sparkle that glinted in the dim sunlight. The sight excited her. Perhaps there was a coin. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? Money still talked in this messed up world. If one was down there, it didn’t that mean others would be as well. What would she buy? Food! Glorious food! Eating was what mostly motivated her. In the old world, she heard folks were obsessed with electronics. What good were they without power? She had never known about video games or TV. She had never played baseball or basketball. She hadn’t gone to school but learned how to read and write by her father before the missile blew him away. It was things she didn’t know how to mourn, because she never had them in her life. She knew what was in the here and now. She knew hunger, pain, and sorrow. She also knew joy when the pickings were good.

Today, the pickings were very good. What she thought was a coin turned out to be a gold chain. Hanging from the chain was a heart-shaped locket. It was caked in dirt. Although she was no expert, the gold chain and locket had to be real gold. When she cleaned it as best as she could, she examined it closely. The chain was fine. She splayed it out over her fingers to examine it closely. The locket was about an inch or an inch and a half long. It was heavy, almost too heavy to be on such a weightless chain. The top was etched with an intricate swirl of symbols of which she had never seen. There was a message etched in the gold: ‘To my love Marilyn.’

Finished scrounging for the time being, Donna stood up with her treasure, staring at the message for a long time. Feeling like an intruder, she wondered if she should open it. She looked all around her. There were scavengers milling about as she had. Most of them were ignoring her or talking to themselves. She closed her fist around her find and made her way to the cubby hole she called home.

Her ‘home’ was a small room that used to be part of a shed in the old days. Now it served its purpose as a good hiding place. No one bothered her here. She lit a candle, and it gave her dim light, enough to further examine her treasure. She slipped a fingernail in the small opening, and it clicked open suddenly, scaring her. Was the damned thing haunted?

Inside were photos of the woman she assumed was Marilyn, and a man she assumed gave her the locket. The photos were from before the war. Considering that she found the locket in a pile of rubble, Marilyn must be dead. The military put nearly every able-bodied person in service, so it was more than likely that Marilyn’s love was also deceased. She batted her morbid feelings aside. It was hard to do, since she had a fatalistic attitude.

Perhaps Marilyn was alive and had been moved to a camp. It was what the new Americans did to people displaced by a bomb. Marilyn might have been wearing the locket, but inadvertently lost it. Donna examined the clasp. It wasn’t broken. The soldiers ensured that bodies were removed swiftly, so Marilyn might have died after taking it off. Some of the scummier soldiers stole objects of worth before the homeless urchins could look.

Something bothered her about this locket. She didn’t feel as if Marilyn was dead. What if she returned the locket? For once, she wasn’t thinking about her own survival. Donna wanted to find Marilyn and return the heart-shaped locket. She blew out her candle and left her safe place to ask around.

Almost immediately, she found a group of military folks being briefed by a superior. As she approached, the soldiers ignored her, but the superior looked at her with something close to annoyance. The less time they spoke to civilians, the better. The superior, a woman, was tall and skinny. Donna couldn’t make out her eye or hair color, since she was wearing a helmet with clear shields.

“What do you need, young lady?”

She noticed that the woman instantly thought she needed something. Well, didn’t she? Donna was a street urchin, and the urchins always needed something. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” she sputtered. “I’m trying to find a woman who left behind a valuable.” That was it. She wouldn’t explain anything else. This woman was a soldier, possibly one on the take.

Lieutenant Stukey had seen this girl around before. She stole what she could for food. Stukey understood, but also held distain for the street kids. “You can call me Stukey,” she said. “What do you have?”

Although Stukey seemed reasonable, Donna didn’t want to share. The locket was hidden deeply down her jeans pocket. “It’s a personal item addressed to Marilyn.”

“The only Marilyn I have heard of was moved to a camp weeks ago.”

Stukey was in line with Donna’s thoughts. “Which camp?”

“What’s your name, kiddo?” Stukey asked.

Donna was growing irritated with this conversation. Her name wasn’t important. She fervently wished she had taken the locket and sold it. A few bucks sounded good right about now. “I’m Donna. Do you know the camp or not?”

Stukey smiled. The kid had spunk. That trait would take her far. “It’s Camp 5, but you’re not going to get there on foot.”

She shifted from foot to foot as if she had to go to the bathroom badly. “I’ll make it,” she said stubbornly.

“You’ll make it thirty miles? I don’t think so.”

The amused sound of her voice irked Donna to no end. “Thanks.”

Stukey watched her, with amused eyes, as she stomped off in the wrong direction. “Hey, kid!”

Donna stopped and turned around. “What?”

“I’ll drive you there.”

She didn’t know if she could trust the lanky soldier or not. The possibility of returning the necklace and getting to camp much sooner appealed to her greatly. What if Stukey was less than honorable? Women today were tougher than men. “Okay.”

The need to return the locket seemed to be the most important task of Donna’s life. Reluctantly, she fell in step with the lieutenant. Parked just a few feet away was a Hummer. Donna had never ridden in a car before. She climbed inside and noticed the lieutenant was looking at her.

“Seatbelt,” Stukey said with some amusement.

Before Donna was forced to admit she didn’t know what a seatbelt was, Stukey reached over and engaged the seatbelt instead. The engine roared to life and within seconds, they were off. With fascination, Donna looked at the scenery as the vehicle buzzed along.

She dug the locket out of her pocket. What was so special about a heart-shaped locket? Normally, she would have sold it with no thought as to who had owned it before. Now it seemed as if she had become obsessed about it. Suspiciously, she looked at Stukey. She had her eyes on the road. Good. She stuffed the locket back in her pocket.

Camp 5 was an experience itself. There were several tents, each one held twenty people. After they searched almost all the tents, Stukey told Donna to wait by the opening. She did as she was told. Donna was certain this was the right tent. When she saw Stukey speaking to one of the people on the cots, she was sure the lieutenant had found Marilyn.

Stukey looked over at Donna, who stood obediently at the entrance to the tent. How could she break the kid’s heart? She slowly approached Donna. It was a walk of shame for sure. “Hey kid,” she called.

“Was that her? Did we find Marilyn?” Donna asked excitedly.

“I’m afraid not. That woman over there took Marilyn’s cot. She’s dead, kid.”

Stukey stood with Donna for some time, waiting for her to explode, cry, scream, or all the above. The kid said nothing. There was no chance of finding Marilyn’s relatives or the man who gave her the heart-shaped locket. Two fat tears slid down Donna’s face. It was probably the biggest let down since her parents died.

“Keep it,” Stukey said. “You did a good deed, kid.”

The locket could remind her how precious life really is. “I’ll keep it safe for her.”

“You do that, Donna.” She placed her hand on Donna’s shoulder. “You need to get off the streets.”

“Who is gonna want me?” Donna asked as she knuckled the tears out of her eyes.

“I was looking for a roommate,” Stukey began.

“Good luck with that,” Donna said. “Can we go?”

The pleading in the kid’s eyes ripped at her heart. “Sure. I’ll take you to my place where you can get a decent meal.”

“What do you mean?” Donna asked. She thought she knew but didn’t believe it.

“You don’t belong on the street, kid,” Stukey said gently. “I have plenty of room.”

A room? A real home? It blew her mind. The heart-shaped locket was special to Marilyn before she died. She would be happy to know it brought joy to a homeless girl. It gave Donna a home and a chance to be a kid in new America. It made Lieutenant Stukey a mother figure Donna needed so badly.