My Cherie Amour (Fully Posted)

Chapter 47

Cherie's tone was reflective as she answered Blaise. "It's more like I know of Solomon's River. I remember hearing about Karina's accident when it happened, and the news people talked about it taking place near there. Parts of the area would've been what she showed me from her memory in limbo. But I knew nothing about the flowers or the rock bridge."

"That's because they're further down the river. Bluebell Sea is what people in the know call the spot. It's kind of an open secret. Karina and I used to take our sketchbooks out there." Addressing Mirela, he asked, "Can you remember if any of the trees looked like they were engraved?"

Mirela snapped her fingers. "Yes! A lot of them had carvings."

"Lovers like camping there," Blaise said. "They draw hearts, leave messages . . . they're overall really creative. Karina wanted to celebrate their art through a series of paintings."

Cherie seemed curious. "Was she going there for inspiration on the night of her accident?"

"Yes," he said. His mind took him back to that day. "She borrowed my camera so she could take reference pictures. The next year, I went there to see the flowers and feel close to her. That's when I met Laurencia."

"Then that has to be our location," she said. "I guess we should call Don Ernesto?"

He nodded. "The sooner the better."

***

The following day, Blaise and Cherie were back in Don Ernesto's cellar. But this time, they were in the portion that was open and adhered to the purpose of such rooms. Case in point, they were using containers of dry goods for their seating.

"All this to avoid interruptions from your other visitors?" Blaise asked the curandero. "You're a popular guy, huh?"

"Not me, but my gift. And gifts, especially ones that are God-given, must not be abused. I know that today I only have the energy to help you all, and I have been given the foreknowledge that the other people coming to my door are designated distractors, chosen by forces more powerful than La Llorona to keep this situation unresolved."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Who is that worried about us?"

Don Ernesto wore a sad smile. "Don't you know? Supernatural evildoers take pleasure in thwarting positivity. They like to block the growth of human souls. You may not see it now, but La Llorona also needs our aid to break from her cycle of misery."

Blaise shook his head. "The woman supposedly drowned her children and a bunch of other kids, and that's not counting the adult lives she's messed up. How is there redemption for that?"

Cherie, who'd said nothing until now, looked up from playing a solo game of Cat's Cradle. "The same way there's redemption for bullying a vulnerable person so you can feel better about yourself."

Stung, Blaise said, "Cherie, I know I've said and done things I shouldn't with you—"

"I'm talking about me," she interjected. "Specifically, about the time in my life where things got so bad that my parents sent me to Tia Mirela.

"I told you I was an angry kid for a while. I didn't have the words to express what it was like to be repeatedly raped and molested, so I acted out. Small as I was, teased as I was for not being black or brown enough, and academically challenged as I was with my reading, I had a few things at my disposal: fast hands and a sharp tongue. And I used them at even the slightest offense because it felt good when I won.

"But the reality is that I hurt people who were in just as much pain as I was. I even stumbled upon a girl trying to hang herself because of heckling I started."

Blaise was floored.

"I stopped her, and we made friends. She's mother to my goddaughter now. But my point is that if we start thinking of other people, or spirits in this case, as irredeemable, how much hope can we have for ourselves?"

Don Ernesto tapped her shoulder. "Your heart's always been big and strong. I knew it even when you called me a nosy old man the first time we met."

Blaise saw Cherie redden, but she also looked grateful. "Thank you, Don Ernesto."

"You're going to need that heart when you confront La Llorona," he said. "Blaise, you represent the betrayal of love that led her down this path, so she'll ultimately have it out with you. But Cherie, you're the one she sees as the reason for this betrayal, so you're our best instrument for luring her out of Karina."

"Pause. You want to make her bait?" Blaise asked.

Cherie, still playing Cat's Cradle, nodded to Don Ernesto, and he left them.

"If the goal is to separate her and Karina, she needs motivation to emerge. That's where I come in," Cherie said. "She was willing to share you with your wife, so she might think the best way to punish you for leaving is for them to stay connected. But me? I'm someone she can hurt far more with her spirit than a body."

His head hurt. "She drowns the people she attacks, Cher."

"I know."

"Do you?" He got up to pace. "Because the minute she comes out, she could kill you. I don't know why I let you placate me before. You really do have a death wish."

"No, I don't. I'm being strategic. If you recall from Tia Mirela's premonition, I'm alive and on the other side of the river from the three of you in the dream, which means that we're going to be able to draw her out without me dying."

Blaise sat back down. "You're risking your life, regardless," he said.

"We all are. But the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that this is why we met, and the forces of good want to help us succeed."

Blaise's voice went faint. "The dreamy, blind faith part of you won't die, will it?"

"Nope."

"Then do me a favor: As soon as you're done being bait and she's sufficiently distracted, run as fast and as far as you can from us. You can get whatever else we need from a safe distance, but I don't need you to linger and complicate my life."

Lifting her hand to the golden cross necklace that Blaise recognized as Mirela's, Cherie fluttered her eyelashes, "My, my, what a charmer you are."

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