Crushing pain had Bowser toppled onto his side a few feet away from the mess he made. The musty, sour scent of his vomit threatened to nauseate him all over again. Mario hastily threw a tablecloth over the lake of puke seeping into the ornate rug, which helped control the stench.
Footsteps rushed around. Toad medics arrived, evidenced by the red crosses on their colorful caps. They looked at Bowser like he might eat them, and he bared his teeth as if considering it.
The bravest one approached Bowser and hooked ECG leads to his chest. They were tiny black squares rather than large, round gray or white cups. Three different people tried to stick his arms and hands with needles, and the pathetically tiny needles bent against his scales without penetrating.
The calmest person in the room was the green-capped Toad doctor who stared off into space while everybody else panicked about how to draw blood and inject medicine.
A nurse addressed him. "Doctor Murphtoad, we can't get any needles into his veins!"
"Beltoada, it's all right." Murphtoad held up a finger to silence her. The way his eyes glazed over in thought was strikingly similar to Lemmy.
"What're you staring at?" Bowser barked at the two Toad medics leaning over him, and they leapt back.
"Hold it! I know someplace he isn't armored."
Murphtoad got in Bowser's face with a grim expression. He did not make direct eye contact or waste time with social niceties.
"I have to stick a needle in your mouth to draw blood. Open wide, please, and lift your tongue."
Bowser complied with it because this guy knew what he was doing.
Murphtoad squirted something bitter in his mouth and plunged the needle into a vein on the bottom of his tongue.
It burned like lava. Not as painful as the pericardiocentesis he got a long time ago, but it ranked pretty close, and tasting coppery blood after wasn't pleasant either.
Murphtoad passed two Vacutainer tubes off to Beltoada, stood back with his gloved hands clasped, and watched the tracings on the ECG.
"You have first degree heart block," he noted with a hint of a smile.
"Not new," Bowser grumbled. "Had it for years."
Murphtoad turned his head and stared off into space again. His eyes came back into focus after a moment.
"The heart attack is taking place on the right side. You're showing T-wave inversions, this is a NSTEMI."
"Big whoop."
"Calm down, being angry makes it worse."
Bowser spat a fireball at Murphtoad, but all the little jerk did was step aside. The flame scorched the wall behind him.
Mario kept gagging. Bowser smirked, watching his eyes tear up.
People paced back and forth, yammering on their phones. Maids dressed in purple cleaned the puke off the floor with a liquid vacuum cleaner.
Someone gave Mario chewable pills to stop his dry heaving. He bent to speak to Murphtoad once he quit retching. Whatever he asked got a nod in reply.
Footsteps continued to pitter-patter around.
Murphtoad checked something on a piece of paper the nurse brought to him.
"Your troponin levels are very high. The artery has been blocked for at least twenty four hours. I'm going to inject TTPN now to break up the clot."
No mincing words. Bowser liked that.
Murphtoad came forward again with a new needle and once more Bowser endured the pain in his mouth. Worse, this time, because of the injection.
The stabbing sensation in his chest shrank, but didn't entirely disappear. His coronary arteries went into spasms, adding to his misery.
Koopa Troopas showed up. Young interns learning to be paramedics, judging by their yellow armbands.
Mario talked to them in a hushed voice.
Black trampled in pulling a gurney with a bag of equipment on top. He took Bowser's blood pressure, gloved up and jabbed an IV catheter into his caudal vein. His needle pokes were a lot harder than Judy's.
After he taped that down, he uncoiled the clear oxygen tubing, fit the cannula into Bowser's nostrils and draped the rest over his horns.
"Breathe. I'll take care of you," he signed.
"Excuse me." Murphtoad spoke to Black.
Black turned his head in time to see him do it and pointed to the writing on the side of his light green medic helmet stating, I am deaf.
Murphtoad blinked, paused and whipped out his phone to type at lightning speed. He showed Black the screen. Black read it, gave a thumbs up and charted what he saw.
"Peh-peh?" He tapped Bowser's shoulder, seeking his attention.
Bowser looked up at him.
Black gestured, "We will move you when your vitals stabilize. Is your chest still painful?"
"Ugh…" Bowser nodded once, wincing.
Black drew up something clear in a syringe and pushed it into the IV catheter he inserted. He held Bowser's hand as he gazed down at him through confident, reassuring eyes.
"Hold on, King Dad," Black signed one-handed. He watched the ECG tracing, signing again, "Take deep breaths. Your SATs are ninety-five."
Bowser inhaled deeply through his nose a few times. The unbearable pressure in his chest triggered more nausea. Black got a puke bag over his snout in time for him to heave again. Only bitter bile came up.
Across the room, Mario looked green and averted his gaze to the floor.
"How is your chest pain now?" Black signed, brow furrowed.
"I don't know yet," Bowser signed back, mid-heave.
He relaxed, pushed the bag away and waited with his eyes closed while he processed his body's signals. His chest still felt like a cement block. Throwing up didn't help, but he wasn't any worse after.
Bowser opened his eyes and signed, "The pain is less than before."
Black nodded, fingers flicking, "Your SATs are rising. This is as stable as you can be. It's time to move. Do you need help getting on the gurney?"
"No." Bowser tried doing it himself.
The fatigue smashed him onto the floor as soon as he reached a sitting position. Black caught him and helped him slide over to lay on his stomach. Gray straps swished across his shell as Black fastened him in place.
"Hey, hey-hey!" Black's shout got everyone's attention. He waved and pointed.
The Koopa Troopas surrounded the gurney. A few looked on nervously.
"Good luck, Bowser," Mario said as they guided Bowser out into the corridor.
.o
Wedding planning became the one of the most stressful things Junior experienced in his life— second only to his dad's heart attacks. So it was a great relief when Cherry suggested they sneak out to run away for a while.
They took a warp zone and bolted through the mushroom forest towards the familiar vine-festooned green pipe to outside-outside. The once-verdant landscape withered as the last weeks of fall prepared for the coming winter.
When they arrived, Cherry threw a huge, hooded black cloak to him.
"Put this on."
"Why?" Junior wriggled through the velvet until the cape covered him completely, leaving only his enormous clawed hands, saurian feet, the tip of his tail and snout exposed.
"It's not Halloween, you'll be recognized as not human." Cherry replied. "I want to show you something."
She wore a heavy red coat with fur around the hood, blue jeans and brown ankle boots. Her dark hair was coiled into two braids falling against her chest. Definitely not a costume.
They grasped each others' hands and leapt inside the pipe. Colorful, bright light drew them across dimensions.
The sewer they tumbled into was dingier and filthier than Junior remembered. Somewhere, a rat squeaked.
"You ate a cigarette the last time we were here," Cherry giggled.
"I remember." He grinned, all teeth. "It tasted like crap. I didn't know they had them in outside-outside. Koopa cigarettes are a lot longer and have black paper."
She teasingly pulled his hood forward over his eyes and leapt over a railing to reach a ladder leading up.
Junior was much smaller the last time he came here. Not even his toe fit on the rungs, so he opted to climb by digging his claws into the concrete beside the ladder instead and hauled himself up. Koopas were natural climbers, so it was no effort to him.
Outside-outside and the Mushroom Kingdom didn't always sync up their days and nights. Junior discovered that when he followed Cherry through the huge manhole in the street.
Black skies went on forever overhead. Frosty air stung his face. It snowed recently, judging by the wet smell and the temperature of the asphalt under his feet, but it already melted, leaving a crisp chill behind.
Decorations marked many buildings— colorful lights, a fat, white-bearded guy in a red suit sitting in a sleigh pulled by eight hoofed creatures with antlers, weird oversized red and white striped canes, and snowmen wearing black top hats. Other buildings depicted a stable where a baby lay on a pile of hay while his parents, a bunch of animals, people carrying hooks and three robed men appeared to worship him.
Two houses had white lights on their eves, and in their front windows were elaborate candelabras bearing nine lit candles. The first house used real candles on their gold candelabra, the other house had a silver one with white bulbs shaped like flames.
"Is it some kind of festival?" Junior asked, his breath steaming in the frigid evening air.
Cherry beckoned to him. "Yes, and we have to hurry. Come on, we're taking the subway."
"They have those here?"
"Yep!"
They had to stop to pay. Cherry exchanged green paper for tickets. Junior climbed over the turnstile because there was no way he could fit through the gap.
Outside-outside subway stations were almost identical to what they had in Koopa City, albeit this one looked dirtier and riddled with graffiti. Junior noticed a pile of feces by the wall.
The arriving train roared as it slowed to a stop. Many people disembarked. A few gave Junior curious looks, though it never went beyond that.
Once onboard, Cherry stayed close by Junior's side. The subway car smelled awful, like the halitosis and sweaty clothing.
Junior almost leapt out of his skin when a brown hand grasped his tail. A startled elderly woman jolted back into her seat. Her salt and pepper braids reminded him of the way Sienna styled her hair.
"Oh, I get it," She adjusted her thick yellow-framed glasses, "You're one of those cosplayers who go to conventions, aren't you?"
"Cos-huh?" Junior cocked a bushy eyebrow, most of his face hidden by his hood. "Yeah, sure, I am."
The lady smiled and went back to her knitting. "I went to Star Trek conventions back in the eighties. Always as Uhura."
"Nice." Junior looked at Cherry for any hints as to what that woman meant, but she shrugged.
Mercifully, the train stopped and the old lady hobbled off with her canvas bag full of knitting supplies.
"How many more stops?" Junior groaned.
"One more." Cherry leaned on a pole.
The station they arrived at was a lot more crowded. Junior thought he saw a lot of humans on Halloween. There were so many! And Cherry blended right in!
Junior tucked his tail forward as far as he could. Not comfortable, but better than people constantly touching it.
He wasn't sorry to leave the stuffy train car at the next stop. Cherry stayed close at his side, gently nudging him in whichever direction they needed to go. He climbed over another turn style, much to the shock of an onlooking human, and rejoined the throng ascending an escalator.
Somebody smoked a cigarette somewhere. Cherry coughed on the smell.
After the escalator, a staircase back out into the city where traffic jammed the streets and buildings were closer together. It wasn't much different from Koopa City.
Lights draped the trees like the stars fell down to sit on the branches. Giant screens broadcast something about Christmas cheer.
They passed a store displaying flatscreen TVs. One commercial showed the bearded old man in the red suit fainting while two round creatures shouted in shock that he existed.
Junior laughed, his breath fogging around his mouth. "Lemmy would hate how loud it is here."
"No kidding! We're crossing left here!" Cherry pointed to the crosswalk.
Yellow taxis and gray buses rumbled among the cars. Junior swiped an unattended hamburger patty off a street vendor's grill and ate it in one gulp, and he was gone before the vendor noticed what happened.
He eyed a sign on the side of a bus stop. 5th avenue, whatever that meant.
They passed many storefronts. Nike. Victoria's Secret. Lego. There was an elaborate cathedral across the street from a gold statue carrying a sphere.
Lights reflected off damp asphalt. An idling bus rumbled. Horns honked. Shoes clomped on the pavement. A baby cried somewhere.
Everywhere, life emitted its own susurrus.
Cherry led him around one more corner and Junior noticed rows of statues shaped like winged humans holding trumpets. The human equivalent to Koopa Paratroopas?
She took his hand, since the masses of humans thickened. He towered over all of them, so he used his size to nudge people aside.
Together, they made their way to the edge of an ice skating rink.
Music blasted. People cheered. Spotlights illuminated the branches of an immense pine tree.
"What's going on?" Junior wondered.
Cherry smiled brightly, clasping his hand. "This is what I brought you here for. Watch the tree, it'll be amazing."
People in the crowd began counting down from ten to one. At one, a star topping the tree lit, followed by hundreds of thousands of tiny colorful lights. Everyone erupted into cheers and celebration. Cell phone cameras flashed. Spotlights danced against the bloated, misty sky.
And at that moment, diaphanous snow trickled down from above.
Cherry looked beautiful with white flecks dotting her hair. The cold gave her cheeks a rosy pink tint. She beamed up at him, blue eyes aglow.
He bent over, cupped her cheek in his palm and kissed her soft lips.
"The tree looks pretty, but you're beautiful."
"Junior," she whispered.
Their gazes locked as their foggy breath mingled in ephemeral swirls. The lights on the tree glistened in her eyes like a paracosm reflecting the future.
In a few days, he was going with his dad to pick out a tuxedo for his wedding to this wonderful woman. Life couldn't get more perfect.
Junior closed his eyes when Cherry leaned up to kiss him again. Then they stood together, wrapped in each other as they gazed up at the colorful tree amid the delicate falling snow.
"Thanks for bringing me here. This is nice," said Junior.
"The perfect break from all the planning, eh?"
"Mmhmm. Nothing to worry about. Just us, here, now."
Cherry leaned on him, small and wonderful. He breathed the cherry scent clinging to her hair. The moment became a latibule tucked safely in the treasure chest of his memory.
After a long while, they began their stroll back the way they came. Many people still dotted the streets, but less than before.
"New York is a funny place. Some say it's protected from above and below by creatures nobody is sure they saw," Cherry said as they walked. "They made a cartoon and movies about it!"
Right when she spoke, Junior swore he saw something lavender glide from one rooftop to another on immense bat-like wings.
"Yeah," he remarked. "Those kinds of things are just stories here?"
"Yup, pretty sure."
Somebody walked by playing a handheld game, its logo spelling out Nintendo DS. Junior swore he saw Mario— much younger with dark hair— jump over a green pipe on the tiny screen, but the gamer was already boarding a bus.
Outside-outside sure is a weird place, he thought.
Cherry's breath puffed white steam around her mouth.
They descended the stairs of the subway station and rode an escalator down. Junior wrinkled his nose upon smelling a mix of sweaty old clothes, halitosis and urine. Somebody at the bottom of the escalator exhaled clouds of the foul smelling smoke. Their cigarette looked wrapped and pointy, not flat.
Cherry fanned smoke away from her face as they crossed onto the platform. They arrived just in time to board. She sat on a seat that time, while he stood guard nearby.
People stared, though none approached. They left the subway behind after a few stops. Nobody bothered them as they skirted side streets to lift the manhole cover they arrived through.
"Uh, better let me go first." Junior eyed the ladder he had no intention of touching.
Cherry gestured.
He jumped into the void, landing on his feet. A hard, jarring landing, but he fell from higher without injury before.
"Junior!" She shouted down.
"I'm fine!" Junior laughed.
Somebody left an open pizza box near a grate. He looked up to watch Cherry descend the ladder. A breeze whizzed past him, probably from the subway passing by.
"Check it out, somebody littered," He pointed.
"Really, where?"
"Huh?" The pizza box wasn't there anymore. He shrugged. "I guess it blew away."
She burst out laughing as he doffed the cape and took a picture on her phone to explain her mirth. The static caused his hair to stand up every which way.
"Aw, man!" Junior tried to smooth it down with little success.
"Wear it like that for the wedding!" She tittered.
"Oh, that'll look so sexy," He made a face.
They cackled and found their way to the wide green pipe leading home. Cherry took off her fluffy coat and tied it around her waist by the sleeves. Underneath, she wore a plain white sweatshirt.
As soon as they crossed dimensions, their phones blew up with voicemails. Junior checked his first, and his laughter evaporated into the pit opening in his stomach.
"Dad had another heart attack."
"Oh, no." Cherry grabbed his arm. "Let's go."
He threw the cape on the ground and they sprinted for the nearest Darklands warp zone.
.o
Bowser rolled out of the familiar cath lab in his own castle's medical ward. All he could smell was stinging betadine and fresh latex. Dull, shooting aches spread through his tail, but his chest felt a hundred percent better.
The grayish-white ceiling had rows of rectangular recessed parabolic troffer lights. They went by in silver flashes. His gurney swung a gentle left and he squeaked to a stop near a pale green wall.
"Don't jump all over him. He's still regaining consciousness."
That smoky baritone voice belonged to Neil, the red-shelled Koopa Troopa who always wore red platform boots to look taller.
Junior, whose baritone voice was much smoother, replied, "Is he going to be okay?"
"I think so. All things considered, this was a 'small' one. I have to commend that young doctor Murphtoad for the sublingual vein blood draw and TTPN injection. Those tiny needles can't penetrate Koopa scales. His quick thinking restored blood flow long enough to get King Bowser here."
"Which artery did it this time?"
"The distal end of his right marginal branch. I pulled out what was left of the clot, performed an angioplasty and risked in a stent because the artery kept spasming shut. He won't need more surgery, but he has to rest if he wants to recover."
"Five heart attacks," Junior sighed. "That's a record, right?"
Neil clicked his tongue. "As of now, he's the only Koopa with Crash to survive this many."
Cherry leaned over the gurney rails while they talked. Bowser opened his eyes fully to gaze up at her when she ran her fingers through his hair.
"Hey, are you with us?"
"Mmhmm," Bowser groaned.
"You threw up on my dad's shoes."
"Did I?"
"He threw up because you did. He's a sympathy puker."
"Oh, really?" Bowser grinned sleepily. "Good."
She wrinkled her nose and poked the clear nasal cannula at the end of his snout. "They gave you oxygen."
"Ugh…" He crossed his eyes to see the tube. "Black put that on me. Where's my shell?"
"On your left. Your spikey bands are on a pillow next to it."
"Okay. Where'd you two run off to?"
Cherry blushed, ducking her head just like Peach used to. "I kidnapped Junior and we went on a little date to outside-outside. We needed a break."
She took out her phone, fiddled with it and showed him the selfie they took next to an enormous pine tree dripping in colorful lights.
Bowser's eyes softened. Guilt churned in his stomach. They were so carefree, and his heart attack forced them back into worrying about him. Why did his damnable body pick the worst times to malfunction?
"Dad?" Junior rushed opposite to Cherry. His frightened, glistening eyes spoke volumes. He lowered the bed rail and hugged him tight. "It's okay, dad, I'm here. We're here."
Bowser wrapped his arm around Junior. "Relax, I'm fine."
"No, you're not!"
"Junior!" He caught Junior's face between his hands and looked him in the eyes. "I'm not going to miss your wedding. Okay?"
Junior nodded, his breathing still shaky. Bowser patted his cheek and let go of him.
Cherry leaned over the rail on her side and kissed his forehead. "Get some rest. I'll take care of him."
He smiled at that and touched his lips to her hand. "He's going to need you."
Everyone reluctantly filed out, leaving behind a lovely older Koopa Troopa. The yellow ribbon tied around her head matched her shell.
"Did you miss us that much?" Judy set about smoothing his blankets and adjusting the rails.
"I guess so."
She arched a brow. "Well, rest up. The wedding is still a long way off and you have to be in good shape for it."
Yawning, Bowser obliged by falling asleep.
.o
The pit in Junior's chest widened to swallow his internal organs while he paced circles around the kitchen table. Sometimes he wondered if this choking, strangling anxiety was how Lemmy felt in everyday situations.
Another heart attack. Ten years of being fine, wiped out by a piece of arterial plaque as small as a sand grain.
If there was one, there were more. How long before a heart attack ended it all?
The very thought of losing his dad twisted Junior's innards worse than his nerves before his first date with Cherry.
"Junior, it'll be okay. They caught it early," Cherry said from where she sat at the table.
Their lunch— Spiny spike soup— steamed in its twin blue bowls. Junior hadn't touched any of his.
Behind Junior's eyes, endless images of his dad laid out in the intensive care bed with a ventilator tube in his mouth, IV's in his tail and wires tracing his heartbeat on flatscreen monitors.
He swirled between a maelstrom of anger and terror. How could this happen now? Why, right as he proposed to the girl he loved and prepared for his wedding, did his dad have to have another heart attack? Why?
"Cherry, you don't get it."
Her eyes hardened for a moment, like ice. She exhaled heavily, thought better of her response and delicately set her spoon down.
"Then help me get it."
"I don't know how! It's just— it's…"
Junior grabbed his bowl and gulped his soup in three loud slurps.
"You got the worst outcome possible, once, out of the blue. It feels like that, but it happens over and over. Every time you think it's okay to relax, BOOM, there it is again!"
Cherry's expression softened, the icy anguish leaving her eyes. Her chair scraped. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"That's hard, Junior. I don't blame you for being angry. I can't fix it, but can I sit in it with you?"
He embraced her in return, feeling how small she was compared to him.
"Dad won't die," Junior said it like an oath, and his voice cracked because now it sounded like a lie.
Cherry kissed his cheek and held him while he cried on her shoulder.
.o
Bowser's evening opened with Neil dropping by to thoroughly examine him. Auscultating his chest, pressing on all his joints in ways that were quite painful and finishing up with an echocardiogram.
"Hm, this explains the crackly chest, holosystolic murmur and swollen joints."
"How?"
Bowser stared at the ghostly images on the sonogram screen as Neil guided the fan-shaped transducer across the middle of his scarred chest.
He didn't know much about reading echocardiograms other than that was an apical view showing all four chambers, but he knew his heart walls weren't supposed to look like thin, floppy pieces of paper. The mitral and tricuspid valves barely closed, the fluttering leaflets struggling to fall into place.
"You developed dilated cardiomyopathy," Neil said grimly.
Sighing, Bowser closed his eyes. "You said something about that a long time ago."
Neil switched to the Doppler. Amid the red and blue blobs, flashes of yellow and green jets appeared near the tricuspid and mitral valves. They were regurgitating.
"Yes. It seems my prognosis of ten years was right."
"Okay. Where do we go from here? What are my treatment options?"
"There aren't any, my liege. This is the end stage of Crash. If a heart attack doesn't do it, the eventual heart failure will, and you're in the early stages of heart failure."
Those words entered Bowser's ears, crashed across his skull and spun straight back out.
"What if you do the works on me if I drop? You got my heart beating again before. Three different times!"
Neil switched to a parasternal short axis view, so the screen looked like a slim, pulsating circle surrounded by static. It did not squeeze uniformly.
"Your majesty, the chances of you weaning off a ventilator the next time you're resuscitated are almost zero. The chances of your brain surviving the hypoxia are almost zero. You have first degree heart block. Your ejection fraction is falling. Your myocardium is deteriorating. You survived with Crash beyond what statistics normally calculate, but all journeys have an end."
"Neil—"
Neil placed his hand on top of Bowser's and looked him squarely in the eyes. He wasn't a touchy-feely person, so the gesture caught Bowser off-guard.
"There is no delicate way to put this. You are dying, my king."
Onscreen, Bowser's heart beat faster. He licked his chops, averted his eyes and inhaled. There was a strange relief in hearing the D word. He couldn't keep his brain dancing around making excuses anymore.
"How much time do you think I have?"
"I don't know, at this point. I gave you a prognosis of ten years, and you've followed my predictions."
"Nope. I can't—"
Neil's hand pressed down. "Sire…"
"I can't do this now!"
"King Bowser, how do you want to die?"
Bowser squinted at him. "What kind of question is that?"
"Your choices are to die having your chest pounded, Junior asking me to turn off your ventilator, or comfortably in your own bed with pain relief."
Bowser wiped his free hand across his eyes to remove the tears before they welled up. Death didn't scare him, but the idea of dying before he saw Junior get married was unbearable, almost as unbearable as being seen weak and sick.
And the thought of Junior watching a failed resuscitation effort, or having to pull the plug? He would never be able to live or die with that. Bowser refused to put any of his kids in such a position. They were traumatized enough by his repeated heart attacks and intensive care ward stays.
Bowser met Neil's eyes.
"Gimme the damn DNR form. I'm done with this, but keep your trap shut." He sneered, "Nobody tells my kids except me, you got it?"
"Whatever you want, your majesty. I'll get the forms now." Neil bowed, offered him tissues to wipe the gel off his chest and rolled away the sonogram equipment.
Once he was alone, Bowser sat up on the gurney and buried his face in his hands. It never escaped him that death lingered around every corner and lurked in each shadow. But it had always been a distant possibility, now it crept too close to avoid thinking about or acknowledging.
He looked upward, russet eyes glistening with tears.
I had a good life. All I ask is to see Junior get married before it's over. C'mon universe.
.o
Vincent was the only Koopa Troopa Bowser saw in his life who could pull off a pencil mustache. He wore a prosthetic shell of deep royal purple matching his knee-high boots, and his violet eyes looked sunken into their sockets.
"You called, my king?" His smooth, low voice sounded more fit for reading horror stories.
"Mmhmm." Bowser sat up, a gray blanket covering his unshelled back. "Neil said you're the best of the best at embalming people after they croak."
Vincent smiled cryptically, spreading his hands. "I embalmed his mother, so perhaps he is biased."
Bowser folded his hands in his lap. "I trust Neil's opinions on this stuff. I'm gonna be in that morgue sometime soon, and I want you to embalm me."
Vincent's eyebrows rose. "You honor me, sire. How do you wish it to be done?"
"Do the blood thing. Don't plaster my face with makeup. Can you hide the needle marks from embalming?"
"You won't see them if I go in through your cloacal vent. Your caudal blood vessels run across each side of it." Vincent arched a sculpted eyebrow, murmuring, "Most people aren't comfortable with something so intimate."
"I'll be dead, Vincent, I won't know. I don't want my kids seeing gaping holes in me when they wash my body."
"As you wish."
"You're a strange guy."
Vincent chuckled, a creaky sound. "My job is tending to the dead. That'll make anyone strange, your royal majesty. I promise to honor you as I would my own family."
Fatigue wore on Bowser, forcing him to lay down on his side. "Neil will call you when I need you. Thanks, Vincent, I won't worry."
He fell asleep before the old Koopa Troopa bid him farewell. When he woke to the empty space where Vincent stood, he realized he would be a corpse the next time they crossed paths. The thought sent chills up his spine.
Celine clomped past the privacy curtain, gold heart-shaped locket and metal cane gleaming. That poor nurse got both knees replaced two years ago, and still they bothered her.
"Are you behaving yourself?" She sniffed.
Bowser smirked. "No, that's why I'm here."
She bonked his head gently with the tip of her cane. "Hmph. You better start."
He laughed while she hobbled off to review his chart.
.o
Black stopped by while Bowser slept. He left two thermoses. A silver one labeled as cactus tea, and a red one labeled blood broth soup.
The note below them read, You were asleep and I didn't want to bother you. The tea is for your upset stomach and the soup is for your heart. Love you King Dad. —Black
Bowser smiled, touched. He texted Black short videos of himself enjoying both and promptly went back to sleep.
Heart attacks were exhausting.
.o
Neil kept Bowser downstairs for two days of monitoring before Bowser had enough.
Junior stepped into the medical ward and heard signs that his dad discharged himself long before he saw him.
"Your majesty—"
"Can it, Neil! The shell goes on."
"Sire—"
"No. That's final. I'll wear the oxygen and take the wheelchair up, but I'm not taking this shell off again."
The wheelchair was a cushioned stool with bicycle handlebars for him to hold onto. Its large back wheels offered stability and the castors in the front allowed narrow turns. Two large push handles extended up off a bar above the rear axle.
Nurses gathered at the foot of Bowser's bed. There was Elton, the green-shelled Koopa Paratroopa who always wore wild tinted glasses— today they were bedazzled orange flame frames. Next to him, Stevie, a Koopa Troopa who decorated her midnight blue shell with intricate designs and sparkling gems.
"Easy does it, your majesty," Stevie's soft alto voice permeated the silence.
Bowser snickered at Stevie and Elton failing to move the wheelchair once he sat down in it. Their faces turned red as they gripped the push handles on and heaved to no avail.
"I got it." Junior stepped between them.
"This is easier when he's spread out on a gurney," Elton mused, holding the buzzing cube-shaped oxygen concentrator.
"Is that my kid behind me?"
"Yup. Hi, dad!"
"Spring me loose!"
"Sure!"
Bowser snatched the oxygen concentrator out of Elton's hands and laughed at his startled face. "Go!"
Junior rushed him past the privacy curtain. Celine ducked into her green shell to avoid a collision. Her metal cane toppled next to her.
"Sorry, Celine!" Junior called as he passed.
"Hey! You two are a menace!" Celine shouted at their spiked backs.
"Don't bother," Neil's voice faded into the distance.
Celine's support cane tap-tapped on the tiled floor. "Hell no, they're gonna get it from me this time!"
"Is Celine chasing us?" Asked Bowser.
"Yeah, but she can't run anymore because of her knees."
"Then hurry!"
Junior eased Bowser into the elevator and hit the door close button long before Celine could shout at them again. They looked at each other, slapped hands and snickered.
Bowser dropped stapled papers on the metal floor. As he scooped them up, Junior saw they were signed DNR forms.
"Dad?" He leaned over his shoulder. "What's this?"
"Oh." Bowser folded it up. "Relax."
Junior moved in front of him, eyes hard and arms folded. "Start talking."
"Really, Junior?"
Junior scowled.
Bowser held up both hands in a placating gesture.
"Fine, fine! I'm old. I don't want to go through hell or put you through hell again if I have a heart attack that drops me. All this means is they won't try to bring me back if I go into cardiac arrest again. I'll get comfort measures, that's it."
"Dad…" Junior's eyes stung.
Bowser held up a finger in warning. "Don't, Junior. I'm not going anywhere. This is a 'just in case' piece of paper."
The numbers above the door blinked as the elevator reached its destination. Junior tried not to let his hands shake when he grasped the handles on the back of his dad's wheelchair and pushed him out into his bedroom.
Bowser kept his head bowed the whole time, only looking up once the reds and grays of his room crossed his peripheral vision. He slid over onto his bed, settling on his stomach with his hands folded under his chin.
Junior placed the oxygen concentrator beside the bed and laid the papers he didn't want to think too hard about on the nightstand. "There we go."
"Hey, shouldn't you be with Cherry?" Bowser opened one eye.
"She's doing dress stuff. I'm 'forbidden from being present', in her words."
"Ahh."
"Ludwig is taking me tux shopping. He's going to show up anytime."
"I wanted to do that."
"You'll be there for the fitting. That is, if you behave and don't get up until Neil clears you."
"Tch."
"Dad, it's fine. The wedding is in four months. We have time."
"Time. Yeah." Bowser yawned. "Go on, if Ludwig is on his way, you might as well be ready."
"Ready for what, and how scared should I be?" Ludwig's deep, hollow voice cooed from the door. His deaf accent sounded like a lisp.
"Hey, you're early!" Junior protested.
Ludwig raised and lowered his eyebrows. "My new hearing aids came sooner than expected. I just picked them up."
He swept his voluminous blue hair upward to expose the flat, circular plugs and silver rings outlining his auricles. They looked like jewelry. All his other hearing aids had domed tips for mics, so that was new.
"They have four microphones instead of two, and they keep spooking me."
"Why?" Junior leaned over for a closer look.
Ludwig chuckled, letting his hair fall slowly into place again. "I hear a weird, intermittent whoosh-whoosh sort of noise whenever a room is quiet. This never happened with my other hearing aids."
Junior waved his hands. "Let's all shut up and see if you hear it here."
Bowser turned off the buzzing oxygen concentrator for a moment.
They sat silent. Ludwig nodded his head. "It's plain as day. It's maddening! What is it?"
Bowser raised both eyebrows. "Hold on, I think I know. Let's be quiet again."
Again, another silent minute.
He grinned. "Ludwig, take a deep breath through your nose."
"Mmhmm, I hear it."
Bowser's smile grew. "You're hearing yourself breathe!"
Ludwig blinked. He covered his face and laughed. "You hear yourselves breathe?"
Junior chuckled with him. "We tune it out, but…yeah."
"Can you hear our breathing?" Bowser flared his nostrils.
"No, just mine. These new hearing aids amplify much more strongly than my old pair."
"You'll get used to it." Bowser rubbed his nose.
"Can you hear this?" Junior whispered.
"Huh?" Ludwig eyed him.
"Guess not. I whispered."
Ludwig signed rather than speak, "I heard that you whispered, not what you whispered."
"I see that hasn't changed." Junior signed back.
Ludwig elbowed him playfully in the side. He perched on the edge of the bed and gazed down at Bowser, eyebrows furrowed as he signed.
"How are you, dad?"
"I'm fine." Bowser touched his thumb to his chest and tilted his hand forward. He switched the concentrator back on, making a face at the horrid loud beep it emitted.
Ludwig, of course, didn't react to the tone because it was outside his hearing range.
Junior left them alone to catch up. He trudged downstairs, sat on the living room couch and stared into the gloomy void of the unlit fireplace. In the quietude there, he noticed the air whooshing through his nose and the barely perceptible thumps of his own heart.
Claws slap-tapped through the hall. Ludwig slid onto the couch next to him.
"You hear yourself breathe now. Do you hear your heartbeat, too?" Junior signed without preamble, eyebrows raised.
Ludwig tilted his head with his eyes closed.
"No," he pinched the air, "But I feel it in my chest."
"I hear mine when it's quiet like this." Junior switched from signing to imitating the sound with his mouth. "Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum."
A hand on his wrist ceased his noise-making. Ludwig gazed at him in utter seriousness, his thick blue eyebrows tilting up and his dark eyes showing genuine concern.
"Are you okay?" He signed.
Junior wiped both hands down his snout and gestured, "Ten years of nothing. I relaxed, I figured it wasn't going to happen anymore. I dared to be happy, and he managed to have another heart attack."
Ludwig breathed out as he signed, "That is the nature of Crash."
"It feels personal." Junior tightened his jaw and his hands moved in swift, sharp flutters. "It feels like the universe is tearing into my joy. Ten years of nothing, but as soon as I propose to the woman I love and start planning my wedding, he has a heart attack."
He waved his hand to show he wasn't done and added, "I'm not blaming him. I know he's mad that it happened, too. It's not like he did it on purpose. The timing is just…"
He thrust his thumb into his fist, "It's shit!"
"I don't begrudge you for being angry." Ludwig looked upward and wiggled his fingers before continuing on. "It isn't fair."
"He can't come with me to pick a tux because of it. I put it off too long."
"You can always wear his." Ludwig smirked as he gestured. "You're the same size, it'll fit."
His attempt to lighten the mood worked.
"No, no, no, no!" Junior pinched the air several times. He smiled wryly. "That purple vest? The sequined trim on the lapels? The tophat? Not my style. It's cool, and it looks great, but it's not me. Besides, it doesn't match the wedding colors."
"What are your wedding colors?"
Junior took out his phone to pull up a photo. It showed a swatch of dark red ribbon against ivory white brocade cloth.
He signed one-handed, "Cherry saw that on a table as we discussed our colors, and she said 'that's it, those are the colors!' I agreed with her the minute she pulled me over to look. She has an amazing eye for seeing things on accident like that."
"The colors of blood and piano keys," Ludwig signed. He tapped his fingertips together and went on, "I'll fix you up with something that suits you."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Glitterbomb." Ludwig's eyes gleamed as he finger spelled it. He snapped his fingers. "I bought my symphony tuxedos there. Black and I bought our wedding tuxedos there. Trust me, you're going to need queer eyes for this one. I'll make sure you look smashing."
Junior nodded resolutely. His phone alerted him to a text, so he held up a finger and checked.
It was Cherry. How's Bowser?
He thumbed out a response. Okay. He's resting in his room now.
That's good. Are you okay?
Before Junior could reply, Ludwig swiped the phone out of his hand and his thumbs flew a mile a minute across the digital keyboard.
I'm good! My extremely gay brother is about to take me tux hunting. I want to look as sexy as possible for our wedding ceremony.
"Ludwig!" Junior laughed and grabbed the phone back while Ludwig grinned like a fiend next to him.
Ludwig took my phone and wrote that. Even if he's RIGHT, he's a dickheaded phone thief. I love you!
Dots bounced at the bottom while she typed.
Oh, he's fabulous, I trust his judgment. You'll look great in anything you wear. I love you, too! Kiss kiss!
"Ha!" Ludwig pointed at the phone.
Junior smiled and answered with heart emojis before putting his phone away. He slapped his older brother's shoulder and gestured, dragging out one sign longer than the rest.
"You pretend you're soooo mature."
Ludwig kept grinning. He waggled his eyebrows just like their dad liked to do. "You're never too old to prank your little brother. Plus, you laughed."
"Okay, yes, it was funny." Junior stood up, smiling. "Let's go."
.o
Four months ago, Toadiano, the Mushroom Kingdom's best fashion designer, brought his entire line of wedding gowns to the Mushroom Castle. He was tall and skinny for a Toad, with a light brown mustache and a speckled cap to match.
Mario helped Cherry zip, button and lace up each gown. People kept presenting more to her, so she never got to walk down the line herself and choose.
And nothing she saw in the mirror felt like her. She wasn't wowed or moved.
The dresses were gorgeous, and most of them flattered her slender figure. She knew what she wanted, and nobody listened.
Mario fell asleep halfway through the dress selection. She didn't blame him, he stayed up all night worrying about plans.
At the end of it, she called Daisy in a frustrated fit of tears. That tornado of a woman showed up less than an hour later via a warp zone with her gray hair pinned back and flames in her eyes.
"What do you need, Cherrybomb?"
Cherry took her upstairs to the closet where Peach stored her elaborate wedding dress. It was a beautiful long-sleeved off-the-shoulder ball gown with a basque waist trimmed in pink and a portrait neckline. Elaborate tulle lace panels decorated the bodice and sides of the skirt.
"Can you find the dress pattern for this? I'm going to wear her tiara, and I want this silhouette, but with my own touch."
"I know the pattern. I'll draw it up. You tell me what you want."
Daisy got out her tablet and sketched the dress using a stylus. Cherry took it when she finished and drew on her personal touches.
Daisy smiled upon seeing it. She hugged Cherry tight, rubbed her back and kissed her cheek.
"Oh, honey, this is a piece of cake! Let me take your measurements."
It took three months because of the elaborate handmade bobbin lace embroidered with tiny intertwining cherries. Daisy wouldn't disclose who she outsourced it to, but they did amazing work.
Cherry knew the dress suited her when Mario's eyes welled up as she stepped onto the wooden platform in the upstairs dressing room. Daisy helped her pin her hair up in a messy bun for the sake of the tiara and veil.
Taking a breath, Cherry faced the mirror.
That's it. Her eyes stung, and she wished her mom saw it with her. It hurt beyond words that she wasn't there.
The satin ball gown was ivory white with a deep red trim at the portrait neckline, ends of the sleeves, the decorative cords lacing up the front, the basque waist and the bottom of the poofy tulle skirt.
Cherry wasn't a busty woman, but the corset bodice created the desired push up effect and gave her a smidge of cleavage.
Rather than a train, she chose a cathedral length tulle veil to trail behind her. That way she could take it off later without worrying about someone stepping on her dress. Both veils had a delicate red trim and intricate embroidery matching what was on her dress.
The gem-encrusted tiara attached to her head via combs and clamps that would be hidden under her bun for the big day.
She eased the blusher veil forward, while the length in the back trailed behind her.
Turning to Mario and Daisy with tears skittering onto her cheeks, she said, "Look at me, I'm a bride."
Daisy rushed over to hug her while Mario sniffled into a tissue.
"I wish mom was here," whispered Cherry.
"Me, too," Daisy held her tight. "You'll look gorgeous."
"Mamma-mia!" Mario dabbed his eyes. "My beautiful baby girl."
.o
Priscilla, Glitterbomb's seamstress, bowed upon Junior's arrival. She was a fat lavender Koopa with a dark magenta shell. Her fuschia hair stood up in a stylized pompadour that showed off the clear cochlear implant coil attached to her head and the earpiece in her auricle.
Ludwig took Junior to the basement section of Glitterbomb, an area rarely seen by the general public. Upstairs was all zany rainbow colors, feathers, rhinestones and flair. Downstairs, it looked serious and professional, with dark brown bricks and wood paneled floors.
"I'll be upstairs. Ring me if you need help. Welcome to Glitterbomb, Prince Junior!" Priscilla spoke with a thicker deaf accent than Ludwig.
"Thanks." Junior signed, already harried by Ludwig's chaotic driving. His brother was a menace on the road just as much as the Kart track.
He barely got time to breathe between the car and the elevator, because Ludwig didn't tell him that all of his siblings were hiding out at Glitterbomb, waiting for him. They practically tackled him, and within minutes he had clothes handed to him.
"Knock us dead!" Morton grinned. Over the years he filled out until he was broader than everybody in the room. Mostly muscle, some Koopas were built like that.
Roy broadened, too, though he wasn't quite as big as Morton. He tipped his sunglasses like a hat and grinned.
Lemmy, by comparison, was still the tiniest one. Junior wouldn't have seen him if not for his multicolored Mohawk poking up past Iggy's shell.
Wendy also stayed fairly petite, though she stood over a foot taller than Lemmy. She finally grew a full head of long, pinkish-red hair that cascaded down her back in delicate waves. Her crowning glory. Now she had something to attach her bows and hats to without tape.
Iggy and Ludwig were the two skinniest Koopas, never filling out past their 'long and gangly' body types. They stood nearly the same height, but Iggy looked taller due to his green plume of hair.
Larry stayed somewhere in between all of them. He slouched on a nearby chair, lazily watching the happenings around him. His light blue hair was dark at the roots.
Junior tried on the first set of garments his siblings put in front of him. A loud yellow cutaway coat with matching pants and a green shirt.
"Okay, which one of you put this yellow thing in here?"
Iggy cackled, giving himself away.
Junior walked out and spread his arms with flair to entertain them. "Ta-da!"
"Sexy!" Larry howled and beat on the back of the chair next to him.
"Wow, I hate it!" Ludwig signed, grimacing.
"AHAHAHA! You look like a lime getting a golden shower!" Iggy scream-laughed.
"Gee, thanks," Junior fake-scowled.
"It's loud!" Lemmy exclaimed.
"And ugly," Morton wrinkled his nose.
Roy hid his face behind a pair of shoes to snicker.
"I'm disowning all of you if he picks that!" Wendy snapped.
"What if you wore it, sis?" Roy nudged her.
"I would never! You won't catch me dead in it!"
Everybody laughed.
Junior put the obvious joke tux aside and got serious. He must have entered and exited that dressing room two dozen times to mixed reactions.
"Who picked the white zoot suit?"
"Me!" Lemmy called.
Junior tried it, complete with the fedora. It looked cool. Everybody liked it when he modeled it.
Still not quite right. These were everybody else's ideas for what he should look like. No wonder nothing stuck out as his. Not that cravat, definitely not those pants, and never that snowy white coat with the gold lapels!
A dozen rejected outfits hung outside the dressing room door.
"No." Junior cringed at the red and white striped apron tie reflected in the mirror. He took it off without stepping foot outside the paneled door. "No way, sorry!"
"This is hard," Lemmy muttered from far off.
"So is making bobbin lace," Roy piped up, slurping from his ShellBucks iced coffee.
"You make bobbin lace?" Wendy balked, "Since when?"
He jiggled the cup so the ice rattled. "Past uhhh, five years? Yeah. Five years. Pom-Pom got me into it. I made the lace and veil for Princess Cherry's wedding dress. She doesn't know. Only Queen Daisy knows I did it."
Iggy rustled something cloth. "Isn't it super complicated or something?"
"Mmhmm, but it's soothing once you get into a groove."
Junior blocked the conversation out and thumped his forehead against the fitting room mirror. He thought finding a tux would be simple, but no. There were more styles and details, and nothing looked right!
"Let's keep—" Ludwig stopped mid-motion and stood there a moment, head bowed.
"You okay?" Junior signed.
"I'm fine." Ludwig half-smiled, pointing to his face. "The breathing noise is still spooking me."
They chuckled.
"This is a nightmare," Junior signed to Ludwig. "Did you have this much trouble picking your wedding tux?"
"No." Ludwig pinched his fingers together. "I knew mine when I saw it. You will know yours when you see it."
"So far, no luck."
"Keep looking. It may be in pieces."
Junior's eyes landed on three different suits, and it came to him. Everything he wanted lay mixed up in different tuxedos. No wonder he struggled!
"Hold on."
Junior grabbed garments off hangers and pulled them apart. Ludwig stood back with his arms crossed, letting him have at it.
That pleated spread collar shirt worked. So did the deep red waistcoat. The ivory double-breasted coat with red satin peak lapels and its corresponding pants fit a little loose, but were doable. Finally, a red satin straight end bow tie.
Junior had no idea how to tie a bow tie, so Ludwig doffed his shell, put on a random shirt and showed him all the loops and twists step by step. He untied the tie and tied it again with Junior.
They repeated it three more times until he had it down.
Dad should be showing me this, Junior thought to himself. Dad should be here yelling at me to hurry up.
But his grim thoughts fell away as soon as he saw himself in the mirror.
"Wow." Ludwig signed in a broad swing of his hand past his mouth and turned the gesture around to aim at him. "That, that, that!"
"You feeling it, too?" Junior gestured.
"Sick!" Ludwig signed, tugging Junior's arm, "Go out there!"
Sighing, Junior shoved the vented dressing room door open and trudged out with his head down.
Larry spread out across two chairs, yawning and rubbing a hand through his spiked up hair.
Iggy and Lemmy poked at a sequined silver suit while giggling at each other.
Roy pushed his sunglasses up on his nose while reading the price tag on a pair of shoes.
Morton paced the room, his heavy footsteps plodding on the wooden floor.
Wendy studied her phone.
"Guys…" Junior lifted his head and grinned when they all focused on him. "I'm a groom."
Ludwig grinned proudly behind him.
"Oh, Gods," Wendy almost dropped her phone. "Bowsie Ju-ju!"
"Yeah! That's a tux!" Lemmy catapulted himself over Iggy.
Junior pumped his fists in the air as his siblings piled onto him in an eruption of cheers and hollers.
Everybody took pictures. Junior posed as if walking on a modeling runway, cracking them all up.
After buying the tux, Junior headed upstairs to pick out a card. Priscilla rang it up and bowed with a respectful smile.
"It's been an honor, sire. Thank you."
.o
He stood at the top of the polychromatic staircase, where everything was lambent luminescence beyond comprehending. Somewhere in the midst of it, he picked out the edges of a closed wooden door.
Something beeped as he reached for the handle, and then—
Bowser stirred awake to his phone blowing up with texts. An emergency? He turned on his side and dragged the screen into a position he could see.
No, just photos of Junior looking absolutely smashing.
He has to get it tailored, but we finally found his tuxedo! Ludwig added after the photos.
A dozen more came from multiple angles. Iggy's were hilariously blurry.
Bowser's eyes wandered along the oxygen tubing connected to the concentrator buzzing away on its shelf under the nightstand.
He was supposed to be there with Junior, but his damned defective heart got in the way. Ten years of no problems other than angina, and now it decided it wanted to kill him?
His hand moved onto his chest, feeling the pulsations behind his ribs.
You're not stopping until I'm ready, got it?
More photos showed up. Junior turned partway, holding his coat lapels and flashing a huge shit-eating grin. He knew he looked immaculate, it was all over his face. A mud bath, scale oil and some hair gel would improve the look even more.
Bowser smiled, tapped all his kids' names into a mass text and answered them simultaneously.
You look fantastic, Junior. So glad you guys were all there for him. Love you.
.o
Junior peeked into Bowser's room. Bowser kept a urinal on the ground by the bed to minimize how many times he got up to use the toilet. Most Koopas stood or crouched when using the bathroom, so the front end of the urinal had an elongated funnel for him to line up with his vent.
The rectangular green reservoir was full, so Junior took it into the bathroom, pulled the funnel off to dump the pee in the toilet and rinsed everything out with water. He put the reassembled urinal back where he found it.
Items like the urinal and oxygen were harsh reminders of past heart attacks. Junior longed to unsee them. He took a deep breath and tried smiling instead, so he didn't look as concerned as he felt.
"You awake, dad?"
Bowser opened his perpetually tired eyes. Something in them bled immense sadness that faded as soon as he saw Junior. He was lying prone with his swollen feet propped up on foam blocks. The oxygen tubing glistened on his snout.
"You getting that tux tailored?"
"Mmhmm." Junior sat on the edge of the bed. "I missed you being there."
"I hated that I wasn't." Bowser's tired expression brightened into a smile. "Can't wait to see you put the tux on. That'll make up for it."
He paused with his mouth open like he wanted to say more, but changed his mind and put his head down. "What do you think Cherry is gonna wear?"
"Uh…" Junior cocked an eyebrow, "…a gorgeous white dress?"
They snickered.
Bowser shifted and resettled, nostrils flaring. "Go tease Cherry about your tux. I want to finish my nap." He smiled, eyes softening. "I'm happy for you, kiddo, you'll look awesome."
Junior playfully noogied him until his eyebrows crossed. "Sure thing. Rest up, dad."
He tried not to see those swollen feet as he left the room.
You can't have him, universe. Stop scaring me. He's not supposed to die until he's a hundred years old.
His phone vibrated. Cherry texted him pictures of red roses. He smirked and prepared to answer.
.o
Neil insisted Bowser stay on bed rest, and Bowser did his best to follow that.
Except when it came to Peach's grave. He took his Koopa Clown Car out to the top of the hill and left his daily roses. Each trip required painkillers followed by at least two hours of sleep to recover.
"We're working everything out," Bowser murmured, stroking the grass in front of her slanted gold name plate. His eyes welled up until everything blurred. "The kids are going to be fine. I can feel it. I love you, Peach."
The wind blew the seeds off a nearby dandelion puff. One of them stuck to his oxygen tube. He delicately picked it off and let it go, watching the little white fluff drift away.
Bowser kissed the statue's outstretched hand.
Dull aching crushed his ankles as he stood. Neil said joint pain and swelling would happen, but this was ridiculous!
He barely made it into the Koopa Clown Car, and wasn't sorry to lay down in bed once he got home.
.o
Paperwork had to be poured over. Bowser knew he couldn't spend long on his feet without winding up utterly miserable.
It only took him a week of waffling about it before he requested Mario come to his castle. He decided on an afternoon following his grave visit recovery nap.
Boom-Boom escorted Mario upstairs once he arrived. Bowser sat up in bed, lap tray and pen ready.
Mario tried to disguise his shock at the oxygen tubing and their work location.
"What're you gawking at?" Bowser pinned him with his eyes.
"Are you sure you're up-a for this?"
"Wouldn't call you if I wasn't."
Mario set down a brown satchel without looking and accidentally popped the distal end of the oxygen tubing off the humming concentrator. It beeped an alarm.
Bowser coughed and slumped forward, gasping.
"Oh no!" Mario fumbled with the tubing while the high-pitched beeping continued. "Hang-a on!"
After a moment, Bowser grinned, reached down and hooked it back up to the nozzle with a twist of his hand. He laughed raucously at Mario's frightened face.
"BWAHAHA! I really had you going, didn't I? BWHAHA!"
"That's not funny!" Mario glowered, his gray eyebrows wrinkling his forehead.
"Yes it is. The look on your face…BWAHAHA!"
"Stronzo." Mario muttered, looking away. He took his glasses off, wiped them on his blue overalls and settled them on his nose again.
Bowser coughed from laughing too hard. "Never thought you'd worry about little old me."
"It's not every day-a that you see-a somebody have a heart attack. I saw you have-a two."
"Eh, I didn't die."
"But will you?"
Pausing, Bowser weighed his words carefully.
"Yeah, and so will you, but we're not dying today. Lemme tell you a little secret."
He looked Mario squarely in the eyes, king to king.
"When somebody is dying, the people around them don't know what to say, or how to act, and they don't know how to communicate with each other about it. You skip that part when somebody is ripped away from you out of the blue."
Mario's nostrils flared, which moved some of his mustache hairs. "But a sudden death takes away your chances to-a say goodbye and make amends."
"Yup. We both know it, don't we? That's why you love people while they're here. Ten minutes from now, they might not be."
Bowser smiled wryly at Mario's thoughtful frown. He picked up his fountain pen, which had the royal Koopa crest engraved on the golden tip.
"Pass me that land treaty, let's work on it."
Two hours later, Junior walked in on them as Boom-Boom escorted Mario out. His face dropped.
"Dad, you're supposed to be resting!"
"Cool it, kiddo."
"Dad—"
"I'm in bed, aren't I?" Bowser snapped without real venom. "We're planning your wedding, not my funeral!"
He grinned, eyes bright. "I got Mario to agree to collaborate on a new castle. It'll go on top of that big hill on the east-west borders of our lands. Six years from now, you'll be ruling in it. All kids leave the nest eventually, now I know you'll have somewhere to land when you do."
Junior walked away shaking his head in disbelief.
.o
Mario returned to his castle with his brow knit in pensiveness. He found Cherry coming down the same staircase that killed Peach ten years ago. The back of her long red dress trailed slightly on each step behind her.
"Hi, daddy." She smiled, dark hair shining in the sunbeams coming through the nearby window.
He remembered how Peach had a difficult time being pregnant. She developed hyperemesis gravidarum, like morning sickness on steroids, and needed IV medication to control the vomiting for most of her first trimester.
From the second trimester on, everything was perfect. She had the cutest food cravings for shrimp Alfredo and tomato soup— and Cherry loved both of those!
The day Cherry was born, Mario stayed by Peach's side every moment from her first contraction to Cherry's first cry. There were many hours of walking the halls, groaning in pain and sipping electrolyte drinks. She went into labor at dawn and gave birth at dusk.
Peach screamed Cherry out of her body. Cherry entered the world with a head full of dark hair and a scream on her lips. Mario never forgot seeing his daughter turn from blue to pink in the span of a wailing cry. Even more miraculous, Cherry stopped shrieking as soon as she was laid on Peach's chest. She knew her mother.
"Welcome to the world, little one," Peach said to her, smiling tiredly with teary eyes.
He remembered the first time he held newborn Cherry, how tiny, soft and precious she felt in his arms. A brand new human who knew nothing of hatred or sadness. He looked at her, and he loved her.
Now that beautiful baby girl stood at the foot of the stairs, a woman about to get married. Where did all that time go?
Mario walked up to Cherry, wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was taller than him, almost as tall as Peach, but not too tall for him to stand on his tiptoes to kiss her cheek.
He said what he said to her the first time he held her, "I love you, my sweet-a Cherry blossom."
"Aw, daddy." Cherry pulled him tight against her and squeezed gently. "I love you, too. How did your visit with Bowser go?"
Mario told her about it over a late rigatoni lunch.
.o
When Bowser was well enough to leave bed without pain or excessive fatigue, he joined Junior at his tuxedo fitting. Junior reminded him that he needed a tux, so he chose a father-of-the-groom ensemble similar to Junior's, save he had a red cumberbun instead of a waistcoat.
Priscilla, the butchest Koopa Bowser knew, stood by with a smile of admiration flitting over her round face. She got her claws done recently, neon pink.
"My, my, look at you! Your tux fits like a glove."
"You fixed him up good." Bowser beamed with pride.
Sometimes he still couldn't believe it. His littlest one, his baby, was going to get married. And he looked handsome in his wedding tux!
Just like his old man, Bowser thought, puffing his chest out.
"Well, there it is." Junior turned to face Bowser fully, showing him the whole thing. Coat, shoes and all. "How do I look, dad?"
Bowser shed a tear.
.o
"This is nuts." Junior eyed the tablecloths— ivory white with thin dark red stripes near the bottom.
The centerpieces were red bowls of various fruits and a bottle of red Koopa wine paired with red Mushroom cider.
Cherry bit into a bright red apple she plucked out of one of the fruit displays. "You knew what you were getting into when you proposed, right?"
"Not really." He kidded purely to mess with her.
She laughed, smacking his bicep. "I can't believe I'm marrying you, dork."
Junior leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I can't believe I'm marrying you, goofball."
There were ballroom dance classes, etiquette classes and ceremony rehearsals.
Sometimes the planning got so wild that Junior and Cherry hid from their dads and the caterers. Closets were good for this, especially the hall closet on the main floor. They sat inside and giggled like children while Koopas wearing chef's hats and Toads carrying ribbons scrambled to look for them.
The giggling shifted to heavy breathing when they kissed and their hands began to wander.
"This is so naughty," Cherry murmured in Junior's ear.
"Mmhmm." Junior exhaled against her neck. "How naughty do you want to get?"
They fell into another lip lock. She placed his hand on her leg and he hiked her long skirt up.
Then Bowser opened the door and caught them about to consummate their wedding prematurely.
"Dad!" Junior barely had time to retract himself into his vent.
"Save it for your wedding night! Get your ass into the hall and help decorate!" Bowser caught his tail and tugged him towards the far corridor.
Junior met Cherry's eyes and shrugged his shoulders in apology.
Once out of sight, he slapped Junior's shell and grinned. "How much did you see?"
"Uh…her bra?"
"What did she see?"
"She had her hand on me."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but we weren't doing anything yet."
"BWAHAHA! Sorry."
Back in the closet, Cherry buttoned the front of her dress over her pink bra and smoothed her rumpled hair. She didn't notice Mario standing nearby until she walked out. He eyed her with his arms crossed and foot tapping.
"You are definitely your-a mother's daughter," he sighed. "Let's-a go help the cooks."
She smiled sheepishly, face flushed. "Don't worry, we didn't get very far."
A little grin pulled at a mustache. "Was he gentle with you?"
Cherry giggled, "I had to convince him that I'm not made of glass."
Mario's little grin grew to encompass his face. His eyes softened with remembering. "Peach was like-a that, too."
They arrived in the kitchen. Mario broke off to help the harried chefs organize.
Cherry's attention went to Bowser, who came in and sat at a table by himself. He was never quite right after his latest heart episode. She noticed he moved slower, tired faster and he seemed to have aged ten years in the span of weeks.
Bowser fit the cannula prongs in his nose and hooked it over his horns. He only put it on when the fatigue overwhelmed him. The oxygen concentrator beeped and whirred to life, its green lights becoming watchful, flickering eyes as he pushed a button on top.
Cherry noticed how much gray streaked his hair. There was a little more of it than reddish-orange now, same with his eyebrows. He looked weathered, like the side of a mountain that endured blasts of rain, wind and landslides.
"Bowser?"
He looked up and barked, "I'm fine."
She smiled softly and laid her hand on his huge one. "You're not needed right now. There's an empty room in the next hall over. It's got a bed. You should rest."
"Cherry…" Bowser sighed. "I— appreciate that you're worried about me, but I'm not some little weakling."
He fiddled with the oxygen tubing. "This is going to ruin the wedding pictures."
"Nah. You know what will? You not being in them because you're in intensive care or dead."
Cherry took his hand and hefted the oxygen concentrator. That was his small one, and it still weighed a good twenty pounds.
"Oof! Come on."
"Cherry!"
"Bowser!" She imitated his tone. "Just lie down for a little bit. If we need you, I'll come get you."
"Cherry," Bowser said yet again when they reached the room. He pulled her in, took the oxygen concentrator out of her hands and closed the door, leaning on it and staring her dead in the eyes.
She stopped tugging his hand. "Do you need a doctor?"
"No." Bowser shook his head. "I'm dying, Cherry."
Reality screeched to a halt.
"Wait, what? But…what if you— before the— "
"I won't. No way in hell. I'm gonna be here to see his wedding." He looked away, clenching his teeth.
"That's why I've been pushing it so fast…I know for a fact that I won't be here this time next year, which is the usual time it takes to plan such a huge deal. Neil— he said the next big one I have will be the killer. I could drop, or I could be sick for a while before I go."
Cherry's stomach clenched. Deep down she had a feeling. Having him confirm it opened the pit wider.
"Does Junior know?"
"No. Please, Cherry, don't tell Junior! You can't. He's so happy. I can't ruin it with this." His tone turned pleading, "Please, Cherry. Keep it between us for now. I'll tell him after the wedding, or maybe you can if I have the big one that drops me. He'll be mad that I didn't tell him first—"
"Bowser…what…" Cherry struggled to wrap her brain around Bowser's revelation. The sorrow didn't fit with the joy surrounding her upcoming wedding day. "W-what about being resuscitated? What about the ventilators and all that stuff?"
"I don't want it. I signed a DNR, and Junior knows it. That's why he freaks out every time I look at my left arm funny. If I go into cardiac arrest again, I'm going to go."
His forehead wrinkled and he pressed a hand over his eyes. "I'm sick of being hooked up to machines like a piece of meat, and I don't want the end of my life being Junior telling Neil to turn off my ventilator."
He lowered his hand and gazed into Cherry's eyes, smiling sadly. "I lived a good life, my youngest is about to marry a gorgeous girl…I've done all I can to take care of his heart. Now it's time to move on, I guess. And look on the bright side— thanks to this wedding, I'll have a snazzy outfit for my wake."
The morbid joke didn't make either of them laugh.
It occurred to Cherry that he was afraid of hurting Junior.
She never saw Bowser scared of anything before in her life. Now he faced something that could knock him out forever.
Her heart swelled for him, compelling her to reach out and pull him into a hug.
"Please rest then, Bowser."
Bowser's arms encircled her and held her tight, His bass voice rumbling in her ear. "You're an amazing woman, Cherry. Just like your mom. I couldn't ask for a better person to hold my son's heart after I'm gone."
She squeezed him, careful not to kink his oxygen tubing. The concentrator hummed beside them.
"Um," He smiled sheepishly. "I'll bring a tank to the wedding. No noise."
"I don't care if you bring oxygen machinery that roars like Kart engines. Just get there alive." Cherry tried and failed to nudge him towards the bed. "Please rest, Bowser. Will you do it for me?"
The aging Koopa King finally relented. Scooting over, he settled down on his side on the guest bed that nearly disappeared under his huge body. Its magenta quilt clashed a bit with his various orange-reds, greens and golds. His russet eyes— they were identical to Junior's— drifted shut.
Cherry stayed until she thought he was asleep. Just as she opened the door, he spoke.
"It's not death that scares me, Cherry…I just don't want to die alone. Every time I go to sleep, I wonder if I'll wake up again. I keep dreaming about this door at the top of the staircase. I saw it every time my heart stopped. I can't reach it to open it. What happens when I reach it, and what if it opens?"
Cherry moved back to his side and ran a hand over his hair. "Maybe my mom is on the other side, waiting for you."
He smiled at that.
"She kept those letters you used to write, you know."
"Did she?" Bowser's cheeks turned a funny shade of red. "I— didn't think they got to her."
Cherry nodded. "I think, deep down, she wanted to love you. She used to say you seemed so trapped in your ways."
She picked fuzz off his shell. "Maybe things for you didn't work out because Junior and I were meant to happen. I wouldn't be here to marry him if my mom and dad didn't get married and have me. Anyway…"
A lump tightened her throat. She shook her head, giggling self-consciously despite it. "I believe in true love, and a love like that goes beyond this lifetime. If you love her as much as your letters said you do, you'll see her again."
"Thank you," Bowser waved her away. "Scoot before I decide to get up and harass Junior some more."
"Okay." Cherry bent to kiss his cheek before leaving. "Sleep tight."
She shut the door, leaned against it and cried.
And Junior, who seemed to have a radar when it came to her crying, came scampering down the hall.
"Cherry! What happened? Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh…" Cherry shook her head and wiped her eyes. It was easier to pretend she never heard Bowser's revelation.
She leaned back, smiling through her tears. "Just stress. I made your dad take a nap, so keep your voice down. He's had the least sleep out of all of us over the past month."
"Tell me about it. He wants this to be as perfect as possible. Probably trying to make up for what he wanted for his own wedding to Peach. Sometimes it's damn funny."
Junior sighed. He tugged on his white bandanna. "At least our personal touches will be there, right?"
"Right." She led him down the hall. "So the caterer actually okayed my cherry punch fountain?"
"Yup! I had to threaten to sit on the cake before he gave in." He grinned, offering his arm to escort her down the hall.
She slapped his arm before taking it, "What about the music?"
"Ludwig has something cooked up for us. Wendy is gonna sing our first dance song at the reception. She picked a good one."
"What song?"
"Landslide."
"Aww."
Toads bustled through, followed by Koopa Troopas.
One Koopa Paratroopa stopped to ask, "Where's King Bowser?"
Cherry stopped him. "He's resting, can it wait?"
He nodded, and whistled loudly to call back the Toads. "My apologies for the noise, your majesties."
Junior wrinkled his nose as the flock rushed back up the way they came.
"This is wild." Cherry rolled her eyes, smiling. "You know the receiving line is going to be hell, right?"
He grinned roguishly, all sharp teeth and squinty eyes. "If it gets too bad, I'll just kidnap you and whisk you away to another castle."
She squeezed his arm. "Ooh, go on, what else will you do to me?"
"Well…"
He talked dirty, and she laughed.
.o
Two weeks later, Mario celebrated his sixtieth birthday. Everyone he knew came to the party, even Bowser.
When he opened his gift from the obnoxious Koopa king, it emitted fart noises and sprayed silly string in his face.
Bowser cackled until his face turned red while Mario struggled to pick the green confection out of his fluffy white mustache.
"Stronzo," he muttered.
"You like it!" Bowser bellowed, slapping the table.
Mario wondered why he put up with this. At least this gift was slightly better than the inflatable breasts he got a year ago.
Cherry shook her head at Bowser and passed Mario the next present. "This one is from me."
She gave him a new plumber's snake, something he needed. He smiled, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
Later, he discovered Bowser sampled the two-tiered lemon cake by sticking his fingers in it.
.o
.o