Where is My Heart?

I could hear the continuous thunder from our window, but that was typical weather on the current West coast. I lay there while my disbanded memories fogged my thoughts. I playfully thumbed the watch on my right wrist. I still continued to wear it religiously, even though I no longer bothered to look at the time. The numbers that surrounded the circular dial no longer told you when your life started, when to go to bed, or where you had to be. At times I asked myself why I continued to wear it. It was probably from a sentiment of when time mattered. I only had two things left from modern civilization, my old watch and a gold locket, which I got from my last memorable day.

Whenever my mind drifted, I usually had the same reoccurring memory. It passed through my mind seemingly in slow motion. My friend Annaka and I were at our favorite thrift store in Los Angeles. At that age Goodwill’s affordability gave you a glorious rush of power. You could buy anything and everything you wanted for almost nothing. In a sense, we were also addicted to the thrill of chance. We knew somewhere in the store there might be a mistakenly discarded item that was thought to be garbage, but was, in actuality, very valuable.

We had a tradition where we would always race into the store like we were on a timed shopping spree. As we swung the doors open, everyone in the store turned towards us, jolted by our sudden presence. We ran down the long isles of colorful clothing. Our fingertips rippled against the protruding sleeves. The fabrics flickered against our motions like silent wind charms. Touching the cotton, silk and wool which encapsulated the isles deeply stimulated our senses. Once we reached the back of the store we would slowly weave towards the front. We often split up after our grand introduction. We developed this strategy as we could cover the most ground, and also not crowd each other while we were thoughtfully browsing. Each of us would look at the tags, the fabric and the time period of each garment. Every time we found a piece to add to our collection, one of us would call the other over to show off our find. Our excavation would conclude at the storefront, where Goodwill kept their used designer purses and vanity jewelry case. To us, this was the least anticipated area of the store. Their case usually just contained costume jewelry that was made in bad taste. Regardless, we always reserved at least five minutes of our three or so hours to make sure we didn’t miss anything.

We moved to opposite sides of the case, I started on the far side near the door. I glanced at everything, trying to look for expensive materials, or a particularly artistic piece of costume jewelry. After a minute I saw a worn box that was propped open inside the display case. It had a variety of jewelry, among other small trinkets. This was usually a good sign, as it could denote an employee was potentially too overwhelmed by something with a large bulk contents, and possibly immaturely deemed everything inside it as nothing of value. This was really the only time in this section you could yield anything from your efforts. I immediately asked the clerk attending the counter to pull out the box, and began sifting through it. All the necklaces were tangled together. I began to slowly weave them apart. I set one necklace at a time on the counter. Untangling the cluster allowed the bottom of the tarnished brown-stained to slowly be revealed. It had some black and white photographs and rings thrown at the bottom. I instantly perked up at the sight of the vintage photographs, and began untangling faster. After separating the third knotted chain I saw a gilt locket, shining through the maze of necklaces. I knew that’s what I had been looking for.

My twilight memory got interrupted by loud sounds outside. Usually I heard a constant hum of distant voices, but the sounds had become much louder. I stood up quickly and peered out the mud window I had carved out from our burrow. The sky was stripped red behind the ominous gray clouds. The sky doesn’t lie, another fire had started close by. Good thing at least it looked it was going to rain. People were running to safety. Women’ voices were the loudest in the screams, crying for their families to follow them. I had no idea how big the disaster was, or when it would rain or if the rain would be enough to put the fire out. I also didn’t know if it was a chemical fire, which would have further implications. Many of he shadows were dispersing from a distance from behind a nearby residential community. You were a fool if you tried to stay in a vacant house or complex, they got raided daily. Luckily, it has been enough time where more common people knew to stay away. A lasting horrible aroma of the dead bodies now stale inside lingered in the buildings, wafted slowly out from the windows. The putrid smell left a painful warning from the people who fatally learned this lesson.

I quickly decided that the crowd was warning enough that we needed to flee our dwelling, and gain some distance to evaluate further. People are usually dumb in numbers, but when you see an unusual gathering of fleeing people, it’s definitely something not to ignore. I leaned down and quickly gathered the protection I kept by my bed. A knife I always kept in arms length was in its position, along with the various homemade sprays I had made. My partner’s gun was still under my pillow, but I was still not confident enough to use it.

I had renamed my partner Sky because his youth reminded me of the sky’s once open clear blue hue, that often filled those below it with feelings of hope and opportunity. He was laying on the far side of our room. He was not stirred from the yelling. He was three times my size at least, he didn’t necessarily need numbers to feel secure. The main reason we developed our arrangement is that he is an intensely deep sleeper. Old habits. I launched from the window the stooped to shake him violently.

“Sky, we need to move, emergency”!

As soon as he heard emergency he immediately sat up, “What is it”?

“There’s a fire, people are running North, we need to move”.

He used his blanket as pants and quickly tied them around his legs. He grabbed his shirt and threw it on. As he got dressed I grabbed his gun and handed it to him. I was often tasked to watch his gun at night, as my inert ability to break awake could better keep it away from predators while we slept. We had our food in backpacks ready to be moved at any time. This included edible weeds such as dandelions, old food we picked up that hadn’t been too well guarded, and some scraps we had sealed separately for small trips away from each other. We grabbed all the emergency supplies. I used to be able to carry just one backpack, but from months of walking I now could also carry another small backpack with our clothes and smaller items. We had some firework poppers and sparklers that I also kept in my pocket. I was hoping this wasn’t too serious and we could come back to the underground hovel we made. It had taken months to make it somewhat livable. But I wasn’t counting on it.

We got ready to start blending in with the crowd. We moved within the masses for a safe distance until we could separate unnoticed and find a high ground where we could learn more about what happened. We didn’t discuss our course of action. We’ve rehearsed for this type of situation repetitively, and knew that this was the plan. We got into position. Sky quickly sprung from the entry hole and started walking quickly. Being much larger I had to run at an enduring pace behind him to keep up. The movement of the crowd was erratic and immediately people’s bodies shoved against us threatening to split us up. I immediately shifted the lighter bag into one hand and grabbed the poppers from my pocket. I threw them on the ground and multiple people from the crowd jumped away from us. The crowd was still swirling around us. Sky used his weight to push some of the others out of our path so we could continue forward. After briefly walking within the cluster of people I saw a hill directly ahead of us with some trees and structures. Sky also noticed it, and motioned to me to go towards the buildings. As we passed in front of it in the crowd, we could tell it was a two story shoppe. While getting closer Sky adjusted his hands to grab his gun. After he released the safety, he motioned for me to follow him. We stayed in the crowd until the last moment, then we sprinted towards the door. I followed him inside and I immediately looked around. I was more observant than him, and had more experience with raiders, so made sure I always took the first and third sweep around an area. He was much larger than me, but still only a little older than a child, and still made a lot of instinctual mistakes. We located the stairs and moved toward them carefully. We then used the outside ledge to get to the roof.

We both stood on top of the building and surveyed the landscape. We caught a break. The housing units by our home had caught fire, but the old factory a ways behind it and was still intact. Droplets of rains from the heavens began to shower on us. We watched under the falling sky in true relief. Eventually we would be able to go home. We didn’t want to go inside, we were still trying to calm down. We ended up sitting in the warm air on the roof under the rain. We sat across from one another. Sky had converted back to his lighthearted self and laughed, victoriously at our break. He grabbed a can of spam from our bag and peeled the top open. Usually we asked permission to eat the food, but I guess he thought this was a special enough occasion.

“Another day”, he chuckled. I sat there looking at him: my hometown was now completely foreign. I had a watch, a necklace and a partner of happenstance. I felt nothing.

My mind reverted back to zoning out. I was standing in Goodwill again. I finally isolated the necklace I knew I would want. It was an old necklace, as old as the photographs. I held it in my hands and inspected it closer. I was an Art Deco locket, it was beautiful. It had an inlaid design of enclosing circles. That is how time really is, I had thought, circles within circles; different times following their own path, each period of time encircling the last. That was the only thing that would come to really matter, the ripples of time.

I opened the locket. it was empty, but thought nothing of it at the time. I clasped it in my right hand. I don’t want to remember the rest of that day. Rain droplets huddled under my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. Who mattered enough to be inside this locket now. Who now do I want to keep around neck as a part of this time? Of all the people I lost, who would I want to put inside it to help me remember what I wanted now?