As the neurotic Cherokee begins to step away from the dismembered Muslim, she looks back at the butchered heathen, and says, under her breath, “Damn, you crazy cats aren’t playing with a full deck, are you?” She then looks back at her shaken cellmates, leaving them to wonder if Dawn was talking to them or the demolished Muslim woman on the floor.
Dawn was surging with energy, as her heightened senses and supernatural strength were once again rushing through her veins. Her body, however, was still burdened with Joy’s hex, and therefore was unequipped to handle the power that was trying to return to her. Immediately after she says this, Dawn feels herself slipping into a cataleptic condition. She collapses, having used more energy than she had to help Cheri out with the vengeful slaughter. Dawn had only been able to do what she did, from the rush of hatred that demanded retribution, but it had taken its toll on her. Her emotional and hostile outburst had cost her dearly, as her infirm body was not capable of handling such rage or mending her wounds. She belly-flopped on the ground, while Cheri cried out in hysterical concern. Dawn wasn’t breathing.
Wolf witnessed Dawn go bonkers and now lay limp on the floor. Cheri knelt at her side, weeping over her, afraid that their rescue had been too little too late. Wolf intuitively and instinctively stepped up to her other side, that Cheri wasn’t occupying. As Dawn lied there on the brink of death, she slowly opened her eyes and saw Reuben’s eyes in Wolf’s. She knew she was close to the end, and didn’t know if what she was seeing was a delusional trance or something real, but her dead lover seemed to be in harmony with her furry friend, as if they had both come to save her together. Cheri couldn’t pinpoint Joy’s sadistic hex in Dawn’s bloodstream, but Wolf detected the infection right off the bat, as if it outlined her figure. Like a wise shaman who knew that only he could help her, Wolf leaned in towards Dawn’s pretty neck.
“I call on the great spirit, Wakan Tanka,” a voice said out of nowhere, which resembled the late Reuben, but sounded slightly different and more animalistic.
Wolf knew that it would be risky to bite her, since she was so vulnerable and fragile, but he had no choice. He begged God to lift the damaging hex from Dawn’s soul and place it on his own. He silently repeated this interceding mantra ten times, willing to damn himself if it was the only way to save his dear companion. Wolf chomped down on her shoulder, and as he left his fangs in her, he sucked out the curse from her poisoned blood. He could see that she was too frail and weak, and feared that his bite might inadvertently kill her, but he had to try. Once Wolf felt that he had absorbed the demon’s toxin, the enlightened guardian bowed his head and shut his eyes in solemn prayer. The mystical transference was successful and the trickster’s curse was expelled from Dawn’s body, but was now hurting the willing sin-eater.
Moments later, a healing wave magically swept over and blanketed her complete being. Dawn’s werewolf powers had returned, her shoulder had healed, and she had fully recovered. She had completely regenerated and now felt stronger than ever. Cheri helped her sit up, even though Dawn needed no assistance. When Dawn had collected herself and processed her surroundings, she noticed that Wolf’s head was resting motionless on her lap. She put her hand under his nose, feeling no breath or warmth. He was gone, just like Reuben and just like Donnie. Joy’s curse had left, but tragically at the expense of her endearing friend.
“He saved your life,” Cheri said, sniffling, as her chin trembled and her heart ached. “He gave his life for yours,” she added, amazed and awed with how he had adored her so.
Dawn wanted to weep with Cheri, over the tragic loss of her dearly departed ally, but she found herself numb to the emotions she knew she felt inside. Wolf’s selfless sacrifice had been too much, and had pushed her over the edge. Dawn was now completely gone and she herself had died in every way but physically. Joy’s destructive hex had been too much for Wolf to bear or carry, as he did not share Dawn’s resistant and resilient gift of lycanthropy.
The two estranged lovers immediately held an emotional funeral for Wolf, where they both said goodbye to their irreplaceable and tenderhearted friend.
“Do you think he’ll go to Heaven?” Dawn asked, finally blubbering in streaming sadness.
“Honey, I don’t know?” Cheri admitted honestly. “I would hope so, but I don’t know if animals are welcomed into Heaven or not? I don’t know God’s policy on that?”
“I am an animal,” Dawn told her pink-haired lover, “or at least I can be,” she added, meaning both sexually wild and capable of extreme violence.
Dawn and Cheri had freed the other sex slaves, at least the ones who hadn’t already been sold and whisked away to God knows where. A few of the girls wanted to stay with Dawn, which was touching and tear-jerking, but just not possible. Dawn worried about what would become of them, since setting them free was very much like taking a domesticated pet (that had always been pampered and protected) and dropping it off in the middle of the jungle, expecting it to suddenly fend for itself.
The Scripture verses of Mark 5:11-13 & Matthew 8:28-34 came to Dawn’s memory as a reminder that animals have more common sense than most humans. She also remembered all the verses in the Bible that compare Jesus to different animals, and describe angels as having animal-like features and traits. She felt confident that Wolf made it to Heaven, as it wouldn’t make any sense otherwise. Believing that Wolf was in Heaven, along with Reuben and Donnie, was the only thing that offered her any comfort or serenity. Wolf had selflessly sacrificed himself so that Dawn would be safe and restored. Dawn felt her heart warm as she thought of her feral friend, who had displayed more love and kindness towards her than most homo sapiens had.
“Thank you, Wolf,” she whispered to herself, under her breath, as she got choked up over her great loss. “I will always love you and never forget you. Thank you for my life and for your friendship.”
Three hours later…
“I’m sorry,” Dawn apologized.
“For what?” Cheri asked, confused.
“I know I’m a drag, not a blessing.”
Cheri saw that Dawn’s pep had completely dissipated into nothingness. “Don’t be silly,” she told Dawn. “You’re not a burden. I like looking after you.”
Something was different about Dawn, and Cheri noticed. Her words of reassurance appeared to have little to zero effect, and it made Cheri feel helpless. She sensed that something fishy must’ve went on behind the closed doors of the slave dungeon that she had found Dawn in. Dawn wasn’t telling her something, and not even a pricey makeover with lipstick, blush, and long fake eyelashes, was going to repair whatever she was hiding. They had left the underground syndicate in a pool of poetic justice, which the incompetent, local authorities wouldn’t catch wind of for several weeks. Dawn was finding it harder than ever to resist or deny her violent impulses, and it scared her beyond words. She loved Cheri, and was worried that she couldn’t trust herself not to harm her. The line between right and wrong, deliberate and unintentional, had become blurred. She had lost so much, having such vital pieces of her heart ripped away, and now feared that she’d hurt the one love she had left.
The song, Take The Long Way Home, by Supertramp, plays over the radio, while Dawn rests in the back after crying herself to sleep. She’s snuggling with a stuffed wolf that Cheri had bought from a toy store, while she and Wolf had been in Wyoming. Dawn loved her present, but because of the traumatic experiences with the sex traffickers, it resurfaced some repressed memories that she would have preferred remained buried. Dawn appeared to have a gentle disposition in spite the circumstances, but her calmness was a cover for her inconsolable grief, which was eating away at her and leading her down a slippery slope of self-destruction. Dawn imagined herself being taken back to Cheri’s hip pad and it quite honestly didn’t appeal to her, but she decided she would rather take that to her grave than ever admit that to Cheri.
“Dawn, I don’t know if you’re awake back there, but, if you are…please hear me. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.
I chased you through four states because I’ve had a change of heart. You are my heart, baby girl. I love you, Dawn, and I hope you can forgive me and give us a second chance. I know I don’t deserve it, but I promise you won’t regret it.” Looking in her rearview mirror, Cheri noticed a distance in Dawn’s eyes and mistook this to be something about her or their fractured relationship, but the truth was, Cheri wasn’t in the doghouse. Dawn had just lost her wish and will to go on. “I’m sorry that it took so long to find you, baby. I’m so sorry, Dawn.”
While they were traveling through the Centennial state, they stopped at a few casinos in the historic gambling towns of Black Hawk and Central City. Here, they found alcoholic beverages to be dirt-cheap and wealthy snobs who were eager to lose their money. Dawn caught herself staring aimlessly at a jukebox menu, where she related a bit too well to several of the available songs by Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band. Till it Shines, Looking Back, Sunburst, Sunspot Baby, Ship of Fools, Maybe Today, Black Night, Sailing Nights and Fine Memory were among the tracks to choose from.
They also stopped at a Sasquatch Outpost in Bailey, CO. Cheri made the lethargic Dawn get up and come inside with her, so she could stretch her legs and get the blood flowing through her veins. As soon as they walked in the door of the fandom establishment, all eyes immediately turned on Dawn. The customers and employees both looked at Dawn as if she was a freak. They couldn’t visually see her werewolf traits, but many could feel her aura, which was what scared them stiff. These people were already believers in the supernatural, but they hadn’t anticipated seeing anything like Dawn that day, or ever.
Dawn found a comic book about Bigfoot, while browsing the different racks and tables of geeky goodies. There were also Scratch N’ Sniff stickers that caught her attention. She reached up and felt her mouthful of teeth, surprised to find that the ones she had lost…or rather been booted out of her…had all grown back. One middle-aged man, in particular, was courageous enough to approach the alluring, but ominous, young woman. The underwear he was wearing was marked in Sharpie, by his mother, who still wrote his name is his briefs.
“You look like you came straight from the pages of Dungeons & Dragons,” he said, meaning it as a high compliment and fascinated by her very presence.
This made Dawn significantly uncomfortable, as she didn’t want such attention from strangers, particularly of the male persuasion. She was bogged down with manic depression, but still noticed their ogles and stares. Dawn wasn’t comfortable in her own skin anymore, and certainly wasn’t comfortable being drooled over. Cheri also perceived their unwelcomed, dirty looks, and didn’t hesitate to reciprocate them. Cheri was over protective of Dawn and was determined to not lose her twice. Both her eyes were fixed on Dawn, and that's where they would remain.
People watched, in cruel judgment, until the two rug munchers stepped out and returned to Cheri’s van. When they got back on the road, Cheri turned and looked at Dawn, who still refused to sit up front with her. She insisted on riding in the back, where Wolf used to lay. Cheri saw the redness on Dawn’s face and could tell that she was getting worse, not better. Joy’s curse had been lifted, but Dawn was clearly broken beyond repair. The loss of her faithful and furry friend had pushed her over the cliff’s edge, and there was no coming back. Cheri’s initial intention was to drive them home to her apartment in Texas, but she thought better of it and realized that her plan would only bring Dawn back to an environment that would cater to her painful memories. She needed to whisk Dawn away to an unfamiliar destination, one which bore no negative energy or bad reflection, but allowed room for recovery and healing.
Cheri had French roots in Paris and decided to take Dawn to The City of Light, where they could both move on and start over…together. She knew that Dawn needed stability and couldn’t handle being a nomad any longer. She needed a fresh ambience, one which would offer peace and remedy. The only question that needed to be considered was how they would afford this elaborate and permanent vacation. She didn’t want to bother taking the time to go home and sell everything she owned. Dawn didn’t have that much time and Cheri knew the sense of urgency that was in front of them. Cheri couldn’t let their relationship sink, and was afraid that she would lose Dawn again if she didn’t save the Cherokee beauty from drowning in her own tears. Dawn was hanging on by a thin thread and Cheri knew it. If God wasn’t going to cure or help her, then Cheri needed to find a way to mend whatever ailed and crushed her spirit.
Cheri knew that Mathias had been someone who never had financial worries. He died loaded, with more money than he could have spent in ten lifetimes. Cheri pulled over to the side of the highway and put her blinkers on. She gently shut her eyes and meditated on what Mathias once looked like. After nine minutes of this, she could feel her body become his. She reached up to touch her face and felt his instead. She looked at her faux reflection in the rearview mirror, and verified that she had become the late alchemist. She had also acquired his clothes, as part of the charade. She reached inside his coat and then in his front pocket, until she found his fat wallet. Cheri took out the wad of cash he had at the time of his death, and all of his credit cards, of which he had many.
As soon as she had taken what she needed from him, she watched in the mirror as she returned to normal. Because she had briefly been him, she was able to read his thoughts and see inside his decaying head. This postmortem possession had given her access to all of his personal information, including pin numbers and passwords. They had struck the lottery. Every one of Mathias’s cards were unlimited, exclusive, and had the highest status. They had it made. Mathias and Joy had been reduced to ash, leaving no evidence that they were dead. There was nobody left to complain and no reason to suspect foul play or fraudulent activity. Before they shelled out for their extravagant trip, Cheri wanted to make one last stop. She was anxious to take Dawn away from it all, but before they left America behind for good, she wanted them to leave on a happy ending.
Cheri switches to wearing her rings on her right hand. It sickened her that Joy’s left hand had been decorated with rings too. Cheri asked Dawn about what happened to her during her time being in the hands of the traffickers. Rather than open up about it, Dawn denied that anything had happened, which was the first time she had ever lied to her pink raspberry. Cheri knew that her fabricated story didn’t hold any water, but she also could see that Dawn was sinking faster than she could think. Cheri wanted nothing more than to save her, but she knew that any efforts would wind up being washed away in a landslide.
“I can’t compare to Reuben’s Hershey-bar turds, but I can promise to love you as much as he did,” Cheri graphically conveyed, exaggerating to make her point. “In your eyes, he was the perfect specimen and companion. I get that, I really do, but he’s gone, baby. I’m not. I will never ask you to stop loving Reuben, but I hope you will love me too, if not just as intensely. When we hook up, I don’t know about you, but I see fireworks. Maybe what we have isn’t a supernova, like what you and Reuben share, but I think you're the most, Dawn. My feelings for you run deep, sweetheart. Maybe I’m not a gingerbread stud-muffin, but I promise you that I will love you as genuinely as he does. What we have is special, Dawn. Please don’t light a match to our fated connection.”
Neither Dawn or Cheri knew if their love had been fortuitous, or if it was destined by the stars, but they knew it was meant to be and were going to fight for it until one of them dropped. Dawn and Cheri had both become turncoats, with Cheri renouncing her demonic roots, and Dawn crawling back to the God that she felt so blighted and forsaken by.
Dawn convinces Cheri to let them cash in their stolen funds for a one-way adventure to France, after Cheri manipulates her mind. Cheri, wanting to make her lipstick-lover happy, agreed. Neither of them had passports, but with Cheri’s mind-control power, they didn’t require the necessary documentation. She knew that Dawn needed a break from the abundance of monsters that sought to steal her joy, even though there was no turning back the clock. Ch
eri wanted to be sensitive to the devastating and detrimental trauma that Dawn had suffered, but she also missed her dollish figure and hoped that their relocating to Paris might open Dawn up again to letting them fool around.
The pink-haired Cambion had never seen Australia’s Down Under, but wished that their moon goddess of erotic dreams, Gidja, would somehow bewitch Dawn on her behalf. Sex wasn’t the most important thing to Cheri, but that didn’t change the fact that she was addicted to Dawn. It was impossible not to miss scoring with her intoxicating, perfect-10 body. When Cheri heard songs like Peter McCann’s, Do You Wanna Make Love, it only reminded her of that.
Cheri cruises down the road with her newly-frigid ladylove, looking for a way to leave their mark on America before saying their final farewell. It was a soggy night, with a mist that swirled and teetered on developing into light rain. They had been motoring on an exceptionally desolate stretch of road that was engulfed by wide-open, scrubby ranch land. The area was sparsely freckled with humble homes and independent businesses. Because of the inclement weather, Cheri had slowed down to under 10mph, not getting much help from the windshield wipers. It was here when Cheri and Dawn both felt a sharp pain in their temples. It was as if their brain waves were attached, mutually sharing the cerebral attack. This neurological assault was coming from uninvited company.
Even though the Van wasn’t going fast, it began to shake and shimmy. Cheri feared that their tires would blow out, but it was a sinister presence instead of a transmission issue. Three young people ambled towards their slow-moving van, without showing any intimidation or trepidation. Cheri and Dawn both saw these strangers, instantly feeling an uneasiness that made their skin crawl. These three were all wearing matching uniforms, which consisted of dark-colored, preppy sweaters. They walked directly towards them, while hanging their heads, as if they weren’t bothered or dissuaded by the danger of being run over. Cheri and Dawn looked at one another and silently agreed that there was something odd about this. One of the three, now seen clearly in the headlight beams, looked up and pointed directly at Dawn. This boy’s skin was albino and his perplexing eyes were solid black. The ensuing chill ran down Cheri’s spine before she put pedal to metal and sped off. These three young men, though impeccably dressed, were shrouded with turpitude. Dawn looked out the window, as they left the scary trio in the dust.
Moon River Page 13
