A Chariot for Champions

Author’s notes: Story inspired by “The Rainbow Bridge Poem” and dedicated to the most amazing mother who taught us Guardian Angels are all around us in every shape and size. Thank you. 

The pain stopped. Suddenly. Instantly, really. That’s all I can remember. Understandably so, it had been so long since I felt free. I’m not entirely sure I ever was free. But now I am. 

I feel weightless--like I’m floating, numb and clean. I don’t want to open my eyes. What if it breaks the illusion and the heaviness returns? Bound again to the shackles of aching muscles, leaking lymph nodes, and perpetually weeping wounds. I’ll close my eyes for 

Just

 a 

Few 

Moments

Longer.

Something soft bats at my nose. I scrunch and swat it off. 

Something cold and wet taps the same spot. Annoyed, I grunt and turn away. 

A loud motor boat engine ignites in my ear. 

Fine! I open my disgruntled eyes. The pain doesn’t return. The light, though blinding, wraps me in a protective warmth. With restored vision as my eyes adjust, I turn to address my assailant. His face is familiar, that of a long lost friend but instantly recognizable. His startling green eyes promising he has so much to say. He’s dressed to the nines in that perpetual tuxedo, tails and all. He presents much larger than I recall, so I confirm his identity:

“Jack?” HIs whiskers twitch in his reply,

“Hi, Jenna,” He purrs in a deep registered coo. Overwhelmed with joy, I throw my arms around his sturdy neck. Standing on my tip toes, he’s strong enough to lift me as a great paw supports my back, “We’ve been waiting for you.” Wiping away the blurring tears, I take notice of my surroundings for the first time. 

Gates, gold and glittering lay way to the vastly sprawling meadow with accompanying lake. The shimmering grass grows softer than even the bare feet and paws it so delicately cradles. The air sparkles and clings to the sweet aroma of fresh roses. I lean past Jack for a better examination when he presents his tremendous wings sprouting from his shoulder blades, standing at attention: fierce and translucently pearlescent. Through his wings, I discern distorted images of other figures. He lays them down, liberating my view. 

There, bounding all across the meadow, are winged creatures of all varieties. Felines, and K-9’s, giant birds and all forms of aquatic life effortlessly suspended in the air. Equines, pigs, chinchillas and all other myriads of furry friends. Lizards that might as well be dragons--all companions proportionally sized to that of a draft horse and gifted with those brilliant wings. 

Completely mesmerized by the miraculous spectacle, I nearly miss the gang of felines gathering. I know them all. Charlie, burly and strong, marches to Jack’s side and sits tall. He nods and slow blinks at my presence. Havoc, immediately after, sprints past both of them, flinging her front paws on my shoulders. She incessantly purrs and obsessively headbutts my face. Astonished laughter bellows from my stomach as I try to remain upright. Stumbling backward, I fall, but the purring refuses to cease. Laying my back, I have an inverted view of behind me. Adelaide carelessly chases and stalks the loose seeds of a dandelion through the air. 

“Adelaide!” Havoc calls for her attention. Bright-eyed, though a little slow, Adelaide catches on to the situation and pads her way forward, chirping happy chirps with every step. 

They sit in perfect unison: Jack, Charlie, Havoc, and Adelaide, identical as I remember them long ago. Their thunderous purrs combine in a grand chorus sounding deafening and regal. 

“We’re ready.” They sounded off in time. I don’t understand.

“Ready for what?” Havoc approaches, curling her slinky body around me. She encourages me forward as we move towards the golden gate. A flawless man, draped in white with matching wings to that of the creatures, stands guard. He aims his welcome beckonings to my feline squad. Jack addresses him:

“Shepherd, we are ready.” The man nods an acknowledgement, 

“Is this everyone?” he clinically inquires. The cats all nod. “Very well,” the man turns, “follow me.” He leads us through the pasture by the lake. We come upon a modest stable. 

Each feline friend occupies a stall. I wait outside. The shepherd carefully fits each of them in golden plated armor. A plate for the chest, a plate for each side, and a malleable layer along their contorting spine, accommodating those wings. Chainmail hosiery with supportive joints cling to each of their legs accessorized with sharp, accentuated faux claws protecting their paws. Square, golden helmets with bayonet spikes where their ears were meant to be rest easy and secure on each of their heads. 

I watch, impressed but baffled, at the assembly of my war horse like team. Independently, they take audience with me. Each sitting down separately until I am completely surrounded. We wait in silence as the shepherd lets out grunts of strained physical effort. Several leather harnesses laced in matching gold rest upon his shoulder as he heaves behind him a fantastic gladiator style chariot. The sun glares off its brilliant silver surface. I marvel at the intricate details etched into its plates, aquamarine birthstones liberally intertwined within the design. There could be no doubt, this chariot is made for me. 

The shepherd calls for us and we simultaneously abide. They keep me surrounded. The shepherd instructs me into the chariot. The felines line up, 2 by 2, in front of me. 

First, Jack and Charlie.

Then, Havoc and Adelaide.

The shepherd securely attaches the harnesses to each cat’s armor. Then to each other. Then to the chariot. He scrutinizes the armor one last time before giving his work approval. His fingers coil around Jack’s harness as he gingerly leads the team forward. I slightly lose my footing as the chariot jolts into movement. We stop at the locked gate.

“Are you ready?” He asks, void of expression.

“Yes.” The team chants with unwavering assurance. They all bow their heads and the shepherd prays:

“Heavenly father, we ask you walk with these four champions as they escort your daughter home.” For the first time since I opened my eyes I feel the horrible grips of fear. The gates open in grandiose screeches. 

As soon as the opening allows, the team gallops full speed. Just as quick as we

slipped through, the gates slam shut with excessive gumption and disappear altogether. 

There’s a cold dampness in this dark air. Everything is black. All I can see is a neon rainbow path stretching beyond my vision’s capability.

“What’s happening?” My voice shakes as I excavate the courage for inquisition. Jack cranes his neck to meet my gaze, 

“We’re taking you home.” He shifts his eyesight directly above us. I follow suit. A neon sign fades into view: 

Judgement

Is all it says.

“Oh.” I start to understand. Charlie peers over his shoulder and says his first words to me:

“Don’t worry. We will protect you.” His comforting intentions only bring concern. The team starts in a steady trot down the neon path.  We pass through galaxies and the constellations dance around us. Shooting stars cheer us on and shout sentiments of encouragement to my team and me. The Milkyway flickers bright on the horizon. We suddenly halt. Amongst the shuddering stars, blurred memories work their way into projected focus. I watch myself as my friends had seen me.

Moments long forgotten, instances I never thought about twice, flashing in expedited time. First, at twice the natural rate. Then progressively quicker, until each scene blurs indiscernibly into the next. My team’s roaring purrs echo in their golden chest plates as they serve as an audience to the scenes. The flashes turn to blips and just as swiftly as they flipped from one moment to the next, the scenes cease. 

The team’s purrs soften. The air grows frigid. The beautiful Milkyway pours away from either side, suspending us in once again pure darkness bar the neon path. We all stare deep into the darkness, not daring to address one another. The cats see it first, I’m sure. Adelaide releases and inquisitive, falsetto whine. I strain my focus on the horizon. A blackhole-- or what I assume one may appear as--bursts into existence. The very center of its galaxy centric to our neon path.

Charlie and Jack exchange glances in silence before proceeding. They creep in a hushed, stalking caution. The chariot feebly russells. A low grumble overthrows any potential racket we might accidentally produce as we close in on our only opening. The oppressive heat hangs heavy at the entrance and my brow immediately  drenches itself. The team pants, leaving sweaty pawprints in their wake. The sickening stench of brimstone chokes us all. 

Jack turns to the team and sullenly instructs,

“Charlie, Havoc, you come with me--” they nod, “Adelaide will stay with her.” Adelaide agrees. Jack, then, addresses me over the team, ”It’s time. Close your eyes.” I offer a perplexed expression. He simply awaits for my obedience. 

I forfeit my vision and the chariot lurches forward. The rumbles quake our ground. The heat rises unbearably until--just for a single instant--it sears my flesh. I hear my friends yowl. I can only imagine their whiskers and fur singed. But the pain fades with the moment and the heat subsides slightly. 

I keep my eyes closed. The chariot halts.

A wad of warm fur brushes my side--Adelaide. I bury my face in her rabbit-like softness. I hear something. 

A voice. 

My voice.     

My voice from long ago. I’m yelling: “I HATE you! Get the fuck away from me!” Ceramic smashes. An ungodly roar rattles the arena. Low, guttural growls and warning hisses ring from my team. The beast vocally retaliates. The cat’s growls crescendo into a battlecry as I hear the heart stopping thud of initial contact.

There’s a squelch.

Then a yowl. 

And I can’t take it anymore--I open my eyes. 

The beast dwarfs my cats as if they returned to original domesticated design. It stands erect, like a defensive grizzly. Pupiless eyes pierce red with flailing claws and jagged teeth. Jack perches himself on the monster’s back, armored claws digging in for balance. Havoc and Charlie flank the creature on either side--calling for its attention in confusing succession. Though my nimble friends avoid most attacks and successfully land their own assaults, the monster doesn’t seem to weaken. 

I hear my voice again. Cast above the arena, I notice another projected screen. It’s me. I’m screaming. I’m throwing a fit. I’m breaking things. With a sinking stomach, I watch my every enacted mistake and bad behavior. Everytime I lost control, everytime committed regret played out in front of my eyes again. With every remorseful reminder perpetrated on the screen, the beast recovers strength and my team endures. Adelaide pushes me closer and blocks my view,

“You shouldn’t look.” She reiterates Jack’s instructions. All I can do is listen. Listen to my own unnecessary shouting. Listen to my team’s yelps of agony and effort. Listen to the beast, I created, grow stronger. But I have to keep my eyes closed for

  Just

  a 

Few 

Moments

Longer.

Something soft bats at my nose. I scrunch and swat it off. 

Something cold and wet taps the same spot. I grunt and turn away. 

A loud motor boat engine ignites in my ear. 

I remember! I open my eager eyes. The pain doesn’t return. The light, though blinding, wraps me in protective warmth. With restored vision, I turn to address my team. 

There they sit: Proud, Majestic, and only slightly disheveled from their victory. We approach the pearly gates and St. Peter commends my guardians on their noble journey. He opens the gates and welcomes us all home. I disrobe my friends. We walk together, side by side, as we are once again--finally and forever--one family.