The Guardian

 

Caren skidded to a halt at the sight of Valeria rifling through her school bag under the scanty shelter of a rundown bus stop. Valeria’s green eyes first flashed with fear then, upon recognition of Caren, defiance. Valeria set the bag aside and leveled an obstinate glare at her guardian.

Caren slammed the car door behind her and stormed over to her stubborn ward. She subconsciously stroked her sidearm as she scanned the sinister shadows scattered about the soulless skyscrapers lining the empty road. This location, exposed to any number of invisible eyes, was a security nightmare. The flood of joy at finding Valeria unharmed quickly gave way to fury at the impossible girl’s foolishness. Leave it to Valeria to pick particularly perilous places to pursue her infantile hissy fits.

The patience-testing teen’s temper tantrums would surely cancel both of their birth certificates. Admittedly, Caren hated the thought of old age but; being three months shy of twenty-one, that wasn’t a problem she wanted Valeria to solve for her yet. The frown souring Valeria’s pretty face deepened to a ridiculous pout before she turned her back to her guardian.

“Go away Caren!” Valeria shouted, folding her arms tight under her breasts. “There’s no more money…mercenary.” She spat the last word.

Caren stepped into the bus stop and marched to the girl. Valeria, covered in nothing more than her thin school blouse and sweater, shivered under the dusk air’s frigid bite. Caren told herself she wouldn’t care one little bit if Valeria caught a cold. Then she seized Valeria’s shoulders. Valeria produced a satisfying squeak when Caren whipped the girl around to face her.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” Caren snarled, “Why would you run away? You silly stupid girl.”

“That’s right! I am just a silly stupid girl. So why do you even care what happens to me?” Valeria huffed through clenched teeth. The frosted breaths swirling about Valeria’s maroon lips made her look like an angry ice dragon. The image almost made Caren laugh. Almost.

Caren rolled her eyes. She didn’t have time for this. Bounty-hunters could be lurking in nearly any of the dark corners surrounding them. If necessary, Caren would drag the little hellion to the car by her hair. “We’re going back to the motel!” Caren announced, grabbing Valeria’s shoulder and yanking her off the bench. Valeria jolted forward with a yip then tugged against Caren whilst letting loose an indignant flurry of squawks and threats. The teen’s olive-skinned fingers pinched and clawed at Caren’s ivory hands.

“Ouch!” Caren yelled. “You satanic little beast!” It was everything she could do not slap the brat.

“Dejame tranquila!” Valeria demanded. “I’m leaving and I’m never gonna see you again!”

“No buses will even come until morning,” Caren mocked, “Is turning into a human popsicle your idea of fun?”

“Maybe I don’t need the bus to go where I want,” Valeria countered.

Caren pointed her finger at Valeria. “I won’t get sucked into your little games Valeria,” she declared. “Do you think the price tag on your head is a game? You think the bounty-hunters will show you any mercy if they find you? Do you pretend they won’t hurt you in the worst possible ways before killing you?”

Caren hoped to see fear and, heaven willing, a little bit of humility in Valeria’s brown face. Instead, the girl’s featured hardened with smug insolence. “I bet you want to collect the bounty for yourself.”

Caren’s wrath boiled dangerously close to violence. “How dare you question my loyalty you ungrateful little wretch,” Caren hissed.  “I’ve taken bullets for you!”

“No se lo hiciste para mi!” Valeria countered, “You took bullets for my parent’s money. And now they’re dead Caren.” With that Valeria’s façade of stony dissonance, the act Caren had nearly believed to be reality, crumbled in an avalanche of grief. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, extinguishing Caren’s rage in a torrent of shame. “Para que estas aqui?” Valeria sobbed.

“I’m here to keep you from getting killed Valeria,” Caren replied. Caren regretted, not for the first time, the callousness of her words; but harshness was the only language Caren was brave enough to speak.

“Tu no me quieres!” Valeria continued. “Siempre te quejas que soy barely worth the paycheck. You always say that! You never say anything nice to me!” Valeria’s brows furrowed in a glower, “Te odio malvada.”

“Guess what Valeria? I don’t care if you hate me,” Caren lied. “What I care about is not ending up as a splatter on the wall—”

“No me importa si muero!” Valeria screamed through her tears.

“Yeah, nobody cares about dying until the finish line comes into view,” Caren scoffed, “Then living suddenly becomes really important.” Caren almost rattled out more of the same old half-truths about only seeing Valeria as a source of income, but the girl’s crestfallen countenance curbed Caren’s craving to cover her insecurities. The insecurities which prohibited Caren from showing Valeria how much she meant to her. Caren struggled in a silent stupor, searching for the words to lessen the hurt in Valeria’s red-rimmed eyes without making vulnerable the, annoyingly human, heart pounding in Caren’s bosom. Were there no words that could maintain the illusion that Caren was a compassionless robot and assuage her ward’s suffering?

Valeria’s gaze fell to the dirty cement floor. “I really don’t care if I die Caren,” she whispered. “I—I am afraid what Riquelme’s men will do if they find me alive.” She pushed a stray lock of her dark hair behind her ear and swiped at the wetness on her cheeks. “But, right now, I can—I can stop them from hurting me. And that’s what I want.”

Valeria’s confession curdled Caren’s bowels. Did Valeria seriously not care if she died? The precious pest provided the only light in Caren’s dismal soul.

Caren wanted to admit it was her own fear which compelled her to emotionally distance herself from Valeria. She yearned for the courage to confess that the thought of losing Valeria frightened her more than any pain Riquelme’s men could exact on her. Caren should have told Valeria her cruelty was a projection of her own character flaws onto Valeria. Instead Caren said nothing.

Valeria shrugged out of Caren’s grip. “Go find another piggy bank Caren,” she sighed, turning away, “I don’t have anything to give you. I have nothing you want.”

“You know I won’t leave you here Valeria,” Caren sighed. “Get in the car.”

The sadness in Valeria’s glistening emerald eyes disappeared in a flash of anger which soon gave way to Valeria’s signature stubborn petulance. “No,” Valeria pouted, pointing her prissy pinched nose up and plopping back down to the bench. Valeria’s teeth chattered under the icy air.

“Valeria get in the car or I swear I will turn you over my knee right here!” Caren threatened.

Valeria pushed her nose even higher; to the point Caren was certain the spoiled snot was straining her iron neck. She glanced to Caren, let out a haughty sniff, and looked away.

“You know what Valeria,” Caren growled, “I think I will take that bounty. It’ll be more than your parents ever paid me.” Caren regretted those last words as soon as they left her mouth. Why did she have to be so mean?

Valeria turned to Caren, her face a mask of furious hurt. Caren fought to compel herself to apologize, but before the words “I’m sorry” could leave her mouth Valeria’s trembling lips had already hardened into a scowl.

“Do you know why I came here Caren?” Valeria hissed through a forced smile. Caren wrestled with how to explain to Valeria that her brattiness made her think bad ideas were good in the most delicate way possible, but Valeria continued before Caren could answer. “I came here because I, siendo una tonta, thought you actually cared about me a little bit.” Valeria’s voice cracked and her lips quivered, but then Valeria plastered her smile back on and said, “I thought you would find it emotionally disturbing to see my corpse, but now I know that you really are just a demonia odiosa.” Valeria reached to her backpack, “The only thing you could ever love is money!” she pulled out a container of pills and small bottle of vodka. “I’ll just take these and then you can throw me in the trunk and cash me in at Riquelme’s hacienda.”

Valeria emptied the pills into her hand and then almost into her mouth before Caren slapped them to the ground. “What do you think you’re doing?” Caren shrieked. She didn’t want to believe her eyes. The idea that this wasn’t just Valeria being…well Valeria, chilled Caren’s blood. Did Valeria really come here to end it all? Had Caren made Valeria so miserable that she didn’t think life held any value?

Valeria shot Caren the stink eye then dumped more pills into her palm. “Stop it!” Caren demanded, swiping the pills away and twisting the vodka out of Valeria’s fist. Valeria assaulted Caren with a shower of Spanish swearing and curses while trying to get the bottle back. Caren threw the vodka, shattering the glass and splashing the alcohol against the wall.

The natural prettiness of Valeria’s face withered in the ugliness of naked rage and she charged at Caren. “Puta!” she screeched, smashing Caren into the corner with a grunt.

Caren let loose a stream of profanity while struggling to tame Valeria. “Stop hitting me!” Caren commanded, shoving Valeria’s arms to her side and pulling the girl into a bear hug. Valeria panted and pushed against Caren a bit before sharp pain exploded Caren’s shoulder.

“Oww!” Caren squawked. “Don’t bite me you little monster!” Caren unclamped Valeria’s teeth from her leather trench coat and twirled the girl around so Valeria’s back was too her. Then she re-wrapped her arms around Valeria’s shoulders and pulled tight.

“Suéltame Caren!” Valeria demanded. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“Why? So you can kill yourself?”

“Para que te importa? Tu me odias!”

“I don’t hate you,” Caren defended.

“Mentirosa!” Valeria blustered. She wiggled sideways and her snapping incisors nearly chomped into Caren’s arm.

Caren forced Valeria’s head back. “I’m not a liar,” she growled. Unfortunately, by this time, Valeria had entropied into a blubbering mess. Caren cast a wary glance over her shoulder. If any nefarious minded men were close they surely would have noticed the freak show playing at the bus stop.

“Please Valeria, you’re making a scene,” Caren reasoned.

“Huyas entonces, antes que te matan,” Valeria howled. “Salva tu vida desgraciada.”

“I’m not going to run away,” Caren seethed. Caren was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. Valeria unleashed a weepy deluge of curses and invitations for Caren to place various items into her crevices.

“Run and hide Caren,” Valeria mocked. “Everybody wants me dead, but I’m the only one who cares if you die!”

Valeria thrashed and fought against Caren, until her brown cheeks turned purple. Caren was certain the bratty little mule knew she couldn’t overpower her. Valeria just wanted to maximize her pestiness! They would both lose this battle if Caren didn’t do something different

Caren pressed her lips over the girl’s ear and breathed, “Valeria, I promise I don’t hate you.”

Valeria exhaled dramatically, but then relaxed. “Well, I know you don’t like me,” she sniffled.

“Do we really have to do this right now?” Caren groaned.

“Well it’s true,” Valeria argued, squirming in the arms locked firmly around her. Fortunately, her struggle was more symbolism than substance. “You don’t like me,” Valeria asserted.

Caren's palms broke into a sweat despite the cold. She bit the corner of her lip and shuffled her feet at the quickening of her heart. She wasn't good at mushy things, but if there was ever an important time to be something other than a calloused battle-ax it was now. Caren took a deep breath and readied herself for the plunge of emotional vulnerability.

“I do…sort of like you,” Caren quietly acquiesced. Then after a beat added, “Sometimes.”

“Oh, gracias Caren,” Valeria huffed. “That’s really comforting.” Valeria writhed against Caren’s embrace, this time with real intent. “You can take the like you sort of sometimes have for me and meterlo en tu culo chingada.” Caren ground her teeth together and delighted in the thought of giving Valeria’s dirty tongue a refreshing soap rinse back at the motel. “I wish I could be a cold puta like you,” Valeria howled as she thrashed against Caren. “Then I wouldn’t have to love you. Then I wouldn’t want you to be my sister and you couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

Valeria’s words sent shock sliding along Caren’s spine. Sister? How could someone of Valeria’s station love a low class bodyguard as her sister? “Por que no me dejas morir sin dolor?” Valeria bawled. “Do you hate me so bad that you can’t even let me die a painless death?”

Compassion swelled to the bursting point and the tears slipping down Caren’s cheeks proved impossible for her to stop. Caren desperately wanted to comfort Valeria, but she didn’t even know where to begin. She thought of loosening her grip around Valeria’s frame, but what if her ward took that as permission for suicide? Caren was afraid that anything she said would only serve to further vex Valeria, but surely she had to say something. Caren always knew she was much more killer than comforter, but she had no idea she was so utterly inept at the latter.

 “No tengo nadie,” Valeria sobbed. “All the people who ever cared about me are dead!”

“I’m still here Valeria,” Caren blurted out.

Caren’s words tempered Valeria’s huffing and puffing. “You just think I’m a pain!” Valeria said.

“You are a pain,” Caren agreed a little too eagerly, “I want to throttle you most days.” Caren paused a moment then whispered, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t say mean things to me,” Valeria argued.

“Apparently I would,” Caren countered, “because I do care about you and I say terrible things to you all the time.”

“Tu no me quieres,” Valeria declared.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Caren snapped.

“Why are you mean to me?” Valeria barked.

“Because I’m a bad person,” Caren relented. "but, I can't abandon you." Caren's voice hitched and then she was bawling every bit as much as Valeria. "You made me care about you," Caren explained. "You're always doing stupid annoying crap like remembering my  birthday, you give me Christmas presents even though I tell you I don't want them. And you go all Florence Nightengale whenever I get sick. Why would you do that?"

Valeria relaxed under Caren's words. They stayed quiet for a while, then Valeria wiggled in Caren’s iron hug. “I'm cold.” she announced.

Caren brushed at her tears with her shoulder. "Are you ready to go back to the motel?" she asked.

"Could you ease up on your death grip?" Valeria asked.

Caren complied and Valeria turned in Caren’s embrace and burrowed into her. "You do love me don't you?"

Caren snuggled Valeria's head to her shoulder. "With every inch of my black heart," Caren confided through a new barrage of tears.

"I'm scared," Valeria sobbed.

Caren pulled the girl even tighter, and wordlessly consoled her for a few minutes before saying, "We need to go Valeria."

Valeria looked up and offered her guardian the saddest smile she had ever seen. "I knew you wouldn't abandon me," she wept.

"Never," Caren confirmed.

"You have to go without me Caren."

"What are you talking about? Are you crazy?"

"You know you can't stop them Caren," Valeria sighed. "I love you for trying, but you know we can't hide from them forever."

"Hiding isn't the plan Valeria."

"It's not?" Valeria asked, nonplussed.

"The plan is to solve the problem not avoid it."

"And how exactly do you plan on solving this problem?"

Caren pulled Valeria's head back to her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her ward's crown. "The same way I solve all of my problems," Caren explained. "Through the gratuitous application of violence."

 

 

 

 

Other Guardian Pictures

 

A few months ago I discovered Daz studios and decided to make a picture based off of the rough idea I had rolling in my head for The Guardian. Ultimately, I disliked everything about this except the pose.

 

 

 

I have a low performance machine so it crashed quite a bit. Given my hardware restrictions I had to render without lighting or collision detection. I liked the overhauled characters and wardrobe, but the picture had too many errors for me to be willing to use it.

 

 Then I took every extra object out of the scene and rendered with lighting and collision detection. Several crashes later, the computer finally choked out the following

 

I liked the results but the skin just didn't look real enough. So then I decided, if I can't get real why not go for intentional fakeness, hence the cartoon shader that ended up on the cover. Once I had the picture finsihed, I decided to flesh out my rough ideas into a short story (I originally wanted it to only be about 500 words, but it ended up 2,500)

 

Anyway, I just wanted to share some of my thought processes in the hopes that my fellow aspiring artists will  feel less alone when things don't work out the way they want. Again, thanks so much for reading.

 

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 27.11.2014

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