The Keepers and Guardians of Culture

“I’m so sorry you’re here much too soon.”

A Martyr sits up from their place on the ground, looking up at a pair of warm but sad brown eyes slightly masked by wrinkles and lines. A woman that reminded them so much of a grandmother. But she seemed more familiar, like she was someone they’d seen before.

“What’s your name?”

They told her as she helped them up with an elderly groan, ridding their clothes of dirt and wrinkles. When she heard their name, the frown on her face grew deeper.

“I’ve heard of you,” she murmured. “I’m Harrie.”

The Martyr nodded their head, finally taking in their surroundings. “Where am I Harrie? What’s going on? I-I just remember-”

Their stomach plummeted when the memories started to flow back.

They died. Killed.

Tears started falling down their cheeks, their chest tightening with the remembered knowledge. Harrie tsk’d as she wiped their tears away, willing them to try and calm down.

“Now. Now. Can’t have none of that here.”

They shook their head, muttering a small apology that Harrie waved off. Eventually they managed to get their breathing steady again, the feeling of wanting to sob slowly melting away.

“Is this Heaven?”

The woman let out an incredulous huff. “Does this look like Heaven to you?”

They should’ve known. The longer they looked around, the more they realized that wasn’t the case. Not even close. It just looked like a regular room. A room filled with people that looked similar to them.

Different shades of skin color, different ways of dressing, different mannerisms. But one thing they had in common was that they were all Black.

“Then…where am I?”

Harrie stepped back and headed towards one of the occupants of the room, another woman with glasses.

“This is Headquarters.”

Their brows furrowed as they locked gazes with someone sitting in the corner. The man gave them a wide grin and a wave. They waved back, ease washing over them. They immediately felt relaxed and at home despite all the eyes of the people solely on them, something that would normally feel disarming.

“What goes on at Headquarters?” The Martyr questioned.

Harrie stretched out their arms. “Everything.”

Her arms then dropped down to her sides.

“Come on. I’ll show you around. Let you see all what we do here.”

Harrie patted their shoulder and led them out of the room. They entered a large and long corridor, brightly illuminated. So much so that the Martyr had to squint to see until their vision adjusted.

“Where you wanna go first?”

The Martyr shrugged. Wherever she decided to take them was where they were going to go. Harrie picked up on that so she told them to follow her as they walked, talking about the Martyr ’s life as they went. Harrie added a few things about herself too, but ultimately leaving most of the conversation to remain on the person. ‘People already know about me. But I want to know about you’ was what she said when the Martyr asked why she didn’t talk about herself more.

As the Martyr was talking about their family, they reached their first destination. Harrie opened the door and walked in, the Martyr right on her heels.

“Good day Lawrence, Rich Roche,” the elder greeted to the two sitting at a desk, a large painting spread across it. “Where’s Zee and Browe More?”

“On assignment,” the man answered, still looking at the work in front of them. “They’ll be back soon.”

The woman sitting across from him looked up at their guests, a polite smile on her face. “Who’s that with you Harrie? New recruit for us?”

She shook her head no. “Not a recruit for you but they are new. Taking them on a tour of Headquarters.”

“Ah. Well then. Pleasure to meet you New Person,” the woman greeted. “I’m Rich Roche and this man staring too hard at this painting is Lawrence.”

The Martyr held back a snort as Lawrence gave them a preoccupied wave.

“Nice to meet you as well,” he muttered out. “Now unless you have a new recruit for me Harrie, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re distracting us and we’re already short staffed due to people cutting funding for my department and Sissy Rose’s.”

Rich Roche gave the two an apologetic smile.

“Well I’ll leave y’all to it then,” Harrie said. “Good luck. Tell Zee I’ll be back to see her soon.”

“Will do!” the woman replied. “Have a good tour!”

With that Harrie and the Martyr were on their way to their next stop.

One by one, the Martyr was shown different departments and aspects of Headquarters. The Martyr interacted with many different people. Inventors, mathematicians, scientists, musicians, and everything and everyone else under the sun. So much they had absorbed in such a short amount of time, they were just amazed. Just like the first room they woke up in. All different but all were still Black. It was awe inspiring, but it made them just a bit downtrodden.

“What’s the matter?” Harrie asked, slowly sitting down next to them. “You was all in high spirits just a bit ago.”

“All those incredible people we just met,” they answered. “And there’s me. Insignificant me whose life was-”

They couldn’t even say it. It was still hard to wrap their head around the fact that they were dead. Harrie tsk’d, shaking her head.

“How could you say something as foolish and stupid as saying you’re insignificant?”

She scoffed bitterly. “You are the last thing from insignificant.”

She continued, a fire ablaze in her eyes.

“You represent a future that your ancestors wanted for their people. You represent a present that says we made some great progress, but we still got a ways to go. And you will represent a past that your descendants will learn from so they can be even better.”

The Martyr felt their heart clench at the woman’s words. They understood where she was coming from but there was still that nagging feeling in their chest.

“You don’t have to be well-known to be significant because everything you do still means something to someone.”

With a heavy groan, Harrie picked herself up. “Get up. We’ve still got places to go.”

Grunting quietly, the Martyr stood to stand next to the expectant woman. They didn’t want to be annoyed or irritated with Harrie but going to watch people be amazing in their element was not going to help in any way. The two kept walking, this time in silence. They reached the end of another hallway, this one more cozier feeling than the bright one from before. Harrie opened the door.

The first thing that hit the Martyr was how much it smelt like home. They practically floated in behind Harrie, letting the smells fill their senses.

“Where are we?” they asked in a slight daze.

“The place where the real magic happens.”

People were sitting in various setups, having a conversation with someone the Martyr couldn’t see. Their facial expressions are varied. Some were elated. Some disappointed. Some flat out angry. The Martyr moved further into the room, taking in everything. A few of the people acknowledged them when they walked by while others were too engrossed in their conversations to pay them any mind.

“What are they doing?”

Harrie smiled. “Talking to people. Their loved ones. Strangers. People they would’ve met in a different life.”

“Talking about what?”

“I told you everything happens at Headquarters.” Harrie replied as she led them around. “The little voice in your head that tells you something ain’t right. The one that tells you’re doing right. And the one that tells you that you have enough seasoning in ya food.”

She motioned to the people. “That’s them.”

The Martyr chuckled lightly in disbelief. Of course. They remembered that all too well. That little feeling that told you enough was just enough. Who knew it actually was somebody talking to them?

“Instead of going to Heaven, we just work for the rest of eternity?”

“We don’t think of it as work in the traditional sense,” Harrie told them. “Because it’s something that we want to do. Nobody is forced to be somewhere that they don’t want to be.”

“So Headquarters is basically a place where Keepers of Everything stay while they do what they want?”

Harrie hummed, brows raising. “Close. But this place does more than keep.”

She gave their arm a short pat. “One last stop.”

Off they went. Their conversation picked up again, the Martyr noticing that they were going in a familiar direction.

Back to where they started.

“Our last stop is where we started at?”

“Correct.”

She opened the door and headed in. But this time, instead of the room the Martyr was used to, it was bigger and filled with many more people.

“W-What?”

The Martyr ’s mouth was agape. “H-how?”

Harrie went to their side.

“I told you this place does more than keep,” she explained. “It also guards.”

She moved to one of the men sitting and looking at something on a screen.

“We’re here to protect and preserve Black culture. But more importantly protect Black people.”

Her gaze grew stormy. “Unfortunately, both of those get harder and harder to do. Things becoming more hidden in the shadows because society constantly changes.”

She let out a shuddered breath as the Martyr came towards her.

“We’re supposed to protect you all. Let you live a life to its completion. The life we want for you all but-”

The words she didn’t say rang in the air as the room was absolutely quiet. The Martyr didn’t know what to say. They weren’t mad that they couldn’t protect them, they were just one of many casualties. Lives they couldn’t save. And they could tell every single one weighed heavily on the woman’s mind. As they looked around, they could tell that was true for them all. They didn’t want to lose another person. Watch a flame get extinguished before it could become a mighty fire.

“I’m so sorry we weren’t enough to keep you safe.”

The Martyr didn’t like seeing Harrie in such a way. Hated it. Didn’t feel right.

But Harrie seeing them in front of her hurt more than anything. Hated it. Because it wasn’t right. Spending time with a person who shouldn’t be there. Not yet at least. And it was her fault. She is one of the main guardians and she failed them. She was expecting the Martyr to yell and scream at her-at all of them- for their failure. For leading them on a tour of Headquarters instead of trying to fix their mistake (there was no fix). Or like the others, cry and completely shut down. 

They wouldn’t be the first and despite their best efforts, they wouldn’t be the last.

So when the Martyr wrapped their arms around the woman, Harrie was floored.

“Thank you for all of your hard work. I know this isn’t easy, but I appreciate you doing it for me and for all the others,” they said, meaning every word. “I know you and the others try your hardest to watch over so many of us, but I hope you think of all the others that are still alive because of your work.”

Harrie couldn’t help the tears that flowed down her cheeks. The Martyr held her tighter, thanking her again. Over and over, the others looking at the scene with fondness and their own tears.

Eventually they pulled away, Harrie let out a shaky laugh.

“Enough enough of all this ‘motion,” she announced as she rubbed at her face.

The Martyr smiled as the room went back to normal.

“So what’s next? Do I stay here and start working in a department?”

“That or you crossover to the Other Side.”

The Martyr was stunned. “…what.”

“You have a decision to make.”

The Other Side?

The Martyr looked at Harrie with an unreadable expression. They didn’t know what to say. They could stay. They could stay and help them. Or they could cross over. Whatever that meant since there’s no Heaven for them.

“If you want to cross over, that’s alright,” Harrie told them. “There’s no shame in that. You’ve done plenty by just living your life.”

The Martyr sighed lightly, brows knitting together. “Do you have any idea what’s on the other side?”

Harrie shook her head no. Of course she wouldn’t know. The Martyr worried their lip between their teeth. They didn’t know what to do. They had seen so much. But what if there was more on the other side? Something that was meant for them? But at the same time, there was so much over here. What else could there be?

“Will I be able to come back to this side if I don’t like what’s over there?”

The old woman snorted. “It doesn’t work like that and you know it.”

Of course. But the Martyr didn’t need to think hard on their decision, they already knew what they were going to do.

“I do have one request before I make a final decision. At least if it can be done.”

“What’s your request?”

The Martyr stared at Harrie intently. “What’s going on with the world.”

The elder woman looked hesitant at first but then her features relaxed. “Very well.”

She turned and had one of the people near her flip a monitor towards the Martyr. It shifted scenes at first. Protests all over the globe. Pieces of legislation being introduced. People becoming more aware of the truth and of reality. Change starting to happen at a rapid pace.

“Remember when you said you weren’t significant? You helped make this happen.”

The Martyr’s chest swelled with pride.

Then the screen was focused on the Martyr’s family. They looked so grief-stricken , to be expected. They were brokenhearted too. But the Martyr knew they’d be fine with time. The Martyr would make sure of it.

“I want to stay here and help you Harrie,” the Martyr declared. “I don’t want what happened to me happen to anybody else.”

The woman beamed at them and then at the monitor, switched back to the people in the streets.

“Let’s get you started then.”

                                                                   End