Dying of the Light
Excerpt from the diary of Jason Lee Scott.
September 17, 1996
I'm dying.
It looks
so strange there in print, all alone. It's not any easier to deal with
it, though. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, much less how
to deal with it. I'm pretty sure that it's the truth, though.
I haven't written for a while, so I probably ought to start at the
beginning. This whole thing started when- well, when I accepted the Gold
Ranger powers, despite the risk, I guess. Really, though, things seem to
have started a few days after I gave the Gold powers back to Trey. I was
tired, and everyone could understand that. After all, losing your powers
is a physically and emotionally painful process. Tommy could tell you that.
I was just tired; it'd get better soon.
Except it
didn't. I was too weak to take the Red powers when Tommy needed a surrogate,
during his therapy with Doctor Kino. Fine, all right, it was just taking
a while. I just needed to rest.
Then I began
throwing up every morning. By now, I knew something was wrong. When my
mom caught me, I just made some joke about being pregnant, and passed it
off as stomach flu. After that, I threw up more quietly.
I knew that
the only way I was going to get any answers on my condition was to talk
to Trey. So, I grabbed him at school (he enrolled to be closer to Chelsea),
pulled him into a corridor, and told him quietly what was happening to
me. He went pale, deadly pale, and right after school, he teleported me
to Pyramidas. He must have used every scanning device in the Zord on me.
Then he sat down facing me, his expression grim.
"Jason, I-
I think you're dying," he told me quietly. The news hit me like a thunderbolt.
"What happened?"
I managed to ask.
"The Gold
Power is not really designed for human physiology," he told me. "Somehow,
the Gold Powers caused your life-force to short out. Your life energy is
leaking away, sort of like water from a broken pipe."
"Can't you
patch it or something?"
Trey shook
his head. "I can't stop this. I don't know what to do. We'll have to ask
Zordon."
"Wait," I
ordered, my head spinning. "How long 'til this is irreversible?"
"I don't
really know. Theoretically, it's reversible until you're dead."
"How long
'til that happens?"
"You probably
have five, six months tops, if you're lucky."
Six months.
No graduation, no Prom, no college, no marriage or children. Six months.
One last Christmas with my family and friends. The enormity of the situation
had finally hit home. I'm not ashamed to say that I broke down in tears.
Finally, I calmed down enough to raise my head and look at him. "Don't
tell the Rangers."
"WHAT?"
"They've
got enough problems to deal with at the moment. They don't need this weighing
on them, too. Besides, if they find out, that means Mondo can find out,
and I don't want to spend the rest of my life as bait."
He just stared
at me, not understanding. "Jason, they're the best friends you have. You
have to tell them."
I shook my
head. "No. They'll all just blame themselves. I'm not going to tell them
unless and until it becomes absolutely necessary."
He just sighed
and did as I asked. We told Zordon, of course. I made him promise not to
tell the Rangers either. Everyone thinks I'm in denial or something, but
that's not it. I have very good reasons for not wanting them to know about
my condition. Most importantly, I can't deal with their guilt and my confusion
at the same time. I'm scared. I'm not ready to die yet.
This morning,
the shakes started. I woke up, trembling so badly that for a moment I was
literally unable to rise from bed. It went away, and I went to school like
nothing had happened. At lunch, I grabbed Trey and told him about it. He
looked at me and shook his head. Apparently, my nerves are misfiring. There
isn't enough life energy in my body right now to keep them working correctly.
It'll start out mild, but it's supposed to increase as I get weaker. As
if dying wasn't bad enough, I'm going to be having seizures now. I just
don't know what to do.
Jason put down
his pen and closed his journal with a sigh. For some reason, he still felt
compelled to keep the journal, even though he wouldn't live long enough
to finish it. Maybe he could leave it to Tommy or something. Maybe ask
to have it burned at his funeral. Jason chuckled. He could just imagine
his friends' reactions if they knew he was planning his own funeral.
Sighing, Jason
got up from his desk and went to lie down on his bed. He was sleeping a
lot lately, partly because of his tiredness and weakness, and partly because
of his dreams. Every night he had a lot of strange, very vivid, bittersweet
dreams. They were usually about the five original Rangers, together as
they had always been in those days. Sometimes he woke up crying, but he
still preferred that time to the present. Then he'd been young, full of
hope for the future. There were days when he couldn't believe three years
had passed since Zordon had called them to the Command Center, and then
there were other days when he felt like it had been a million years, rather
than just three. More and more, his days seemed to fit into the latter
category.
I miss Zack,
he thought to himself. I miss them all. Idly he wondered if the
other four members of the original team, now scattered to the four winds,
would return for his funeral. He'd like to have them there, if he could.
Those four, and the current team, were as much his family as his mother
and father. No one should die alone, he thought to himself, dropping
off to sleep.
A few days later,
at school, Jason was loading his books into his locker after last period
when he felt the weakness in his limbs which presaged a seizure. No!
he thought to himself anxiously. Not now! There was nothing he could
do about it, though. The shakes began to spread through his body and he
dropped to the ground, twitching.
Tanya Sloan,
the Yellow Ranger, was at her locker nearby when Jason's attack began.
Instantly, she was by his side, all her first aid training kicking in.
Quickly and efficiently, she made sure his airway was clear and slid her
knees under his head, making a pillow of her thighs so that he wouldn't
injure himself by beating his head on the ground. "Somebody go get the
nurse!" she cried. "Hurry!" Even as one student ran to do as she asked,
Tanya wondered to herself. What in the world could have triggered Jason's
seizure?
When Jason stopped
shaking, and became aware of his surroundings again, he was in the nurse's
office at school, and his parents were looking down at him in concern.
Oh shit, he groaned to himself. There goes my secret. Sitting
up, he looked around muzzily. The Rangers, all six of them, were sitting
in the office as well.
"What happened?"
he asked. "What time is it?"
"It's 3:15,"
Tommy told him. "You had a seizure by your locker, and then you passed
out. What happened out there, Jase?" Despite the concern in his voice,
Tommy's tone was not completely that of a worried friend. There was a steel
there that Jason had never heard directed at him before. With a mental
smile, he identified it as a fairly good copy of his "leader voice." Tommy
wanted answers, and he wanted them now.
Jason sighed.
"Mom, Dad, can we go home? I have some things I want to tell all of you,
but not here. Not at school."
Jason's parents
looked at each other and sighed. "We should really take you to the hospital
to be checked out, Jason," his mother protested.
Jason shook
his head. "There's no need, Mom," he replied quietly. "I already know what's
wrong. Please, can we go home?"
His father nodded.
"Sure, Jase. Come on, Tommy and I will help you out to the car."
Once in the Scotts'
living room, Jason comfortably ensconced on the couch, the Rangers began
demanding answers. Finally, Jason held up a hand to squelch the noise.
"It's a long
story, especially since I'm going to start at the beginning. The very beginning."
Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but Jason beat him to it. "I already
asked him, Tommy. I thought I might have to tell this story sooner or later.
Mom, Dad, I've been keeping something from you for the past three years.
You see, three years ago, I became a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger. The Red
one." Jason's parents sat, dumfounded and open-jawed, as their son quietly
detailed his history as a superhero. Finally, he reached the present day.
"Everyone thought
that once I gave the Gold Powers to Trey, I'd be fine, physically if not
mentally. I'm not, though. The Gold Powers shorted out something inside
me. My life-force is leaking into- well, I don't exactly know where it's
going, but the end result is the same. I'm dying. Trey's machines say that
I have approximately six months to live." His parents both shot to their
feet in unison, but never had a chance to be heard over the Rangers.
"WHAT!" Tommy
yelled.
"Why didn't
you tell us?" cried Kat.
"Jason, there
has to be something we can do," added Tanya. Only Adam and Rocky were silent,
too stunned by Jason's revelation to speak. Once again, Jason held up a
hand for quiet.
"I didn't want
you to know. I knew you'd all feel guilty and helpless. I wanted to keep
this to myself as long as possible. Before anybody has a cow over this,
let me remind you all that I chose to take up the Gold powers to prevent
them from being lost. Trey warned me that it would be dangerous simply
to hold them, even if I didn't fight. I knew the risk, and I took it. I'd
take it again. This is no one's fault." Jason looked straight at Tommy
as he said this, but found, as expected, that the Red Ranger would not
meet his eyes.
Jason's parents
were sitting on the couch, shocked into silence. "Jason, what can we do?"
his father asked finally.
"I'm going to
need you to cover for me. Tell the school that I've been diagnosed with
some chemical imbalance, something that is potentially fatal, and results
in seizures and weakness. I'm sure Adam and Zordon can create some fake
medical records to back that up. Aside from that," Jason shrugged, "just
be there for me. I'm going to need you."
Nodding, his
parents drew him in for a hug. All three Scotts held on much longer than
usual.
It was a beautiful
afternoon, but Tommy didn't see it. He was too busy walking with his eyes
on his feet, trying to come to terms with what Jason had told them. Dying?
Jason couldn't die. They were Power Rangers, the good guys. Good guys weren't
supposed to die, and especially not in such a stupid, pointless manner.
The worst part was, he couldn't shake the conviction that this was somehow
all his fault. If he hadn't asked Jason to rejoin the team, if he had been
there for Jason so that he hadn't had to push his powers to the limit,
if he hadn't been so preoccupied with his own stupid problems, maybe he
could have done something.
When he finally
raised his head, he saw with only moderate surprise that he had come to
Angel's Rest, the largest cemetery in Angel Grove. The marble tombstones
stared at him accusingly. Lying there in that cemetery, he knew, were people
who had died in monster attacks. People who had died because he had failed.
In his mind, he could see their names engraved on their monuments, monuments
he had visited a dozen times or more, asking for forgiveness, searching
for peace. He never found any.
Now, into his
mind sprang an image of a stone with "Jason Lee Scott" written on it. "No,"
he whispered. "Jason is not going to die. I will not fail again. No more
failures. No more names."
Up at Hunter's
Point, overlooking the city, Trey of Triforia sat with his girlfriend Chelsea
Oliver. "So how's Tommy taking this?" Trey asked listlessly, throwing a
pebble over the cliff.
Chelsea snorted.
"You know my brother. He's beating himself up over the whole thing, sure
it's his fault, sure that he's responsible. He went to the cemetery again
yesterday. He doesn't eat, he barely sleeps, and he's beginning to look
like a zombie- again. Dad's about to send him right back to Lita if he
doesn't shape up."
"Might be the
best thing for him," Trey sighed.
"You too," Chelsea
informed him. "Come on, Trey, I live with the Guilt King of Angel Grove.
I can tell that you're beating yourself up over what's happened to Jason."
Trey shook his
head. "I can't hide anything from you, can I? I should have known- I did
know how dangerous the Gold Powers are for humans. I should have called
a Triforian to take them, or just let them dissipate. I should never have
let him put himself in danger."
"Trey, what
could you have done? You could no more let those powers lapse than I could
jump off this cliff and fly. You're a Ranger, sworn to defend. Could you
really have let your only means of saving people and planets dissipate?
As for Jason, he knew the risks. He really understood them. Jason thrives
on risk. He needed to be a Ranger again, to make that sacrifice, to take
that chance. You gave him a second lease on a life he thought was gone.
Neither of you could have know that this was coming, nor should you have."
"Maybe," Trey
allowed. "I keep forgetting how short and fragile human lives are."
vSomething nagged at the back of Chelsea's mind. "Trey, how long do
Triforians live?"
"On average,
approximately 14,000 years," he admitted quietly.
Chelsea suddenly
had trouble swallowing around the lump in her throat. "How old are you?"
"4000. In your
earth years, in terms of physical maturity, I'm about twenty."
Chelsea couldn't
meet his eyes. "Trey, I'm not going to live that long. Do you- can you
really love me?"
Going down on
one knee before her, he raised her chin so that he could look into her
eyes. "Chelsea, I can and do love you. There are ways for me to extend
your lifespan so that we could spend the rest of our lives together. I
guess I'm asking you to marry me. If you do, we can be together for the
rest of our lives. I'm not pushing for an answer; it won't become a problem
for another seven years, at least. I'm just saying that if you want, we
can be together."
Chelsea threw
her arms around his neck and held him tightly. They sat there for a long
time, immersing themselves in the comfort the other offered.
"Ki-yah!" Rocky
yelled, his foot slamming into the bag which hung from one of the trees
in his backyard. Ever since Jason's revelation three days ago, he had been
in a constant frenzy of activity. No matter how much he exercised, however,
he could not shake the accusing thoughts floating around the back of his
mind. You failed again, they whispered. First Jennifer, now Jason.
How many of your friends will die because you couldn't save them?
"What could
I have done?" he asked out loud. "I didn't ask him to become Gold Ranger."
You could
have been there when he needed you in those battles. Instead, you left
everything up to him, and now he's worked himself into a state of exhaustion.
He's dying because you failed him. You're worthless, Rocky. Completely
worthless.
Shaking his
head, Rocky tried to concentrate on the bag once again. It was getting
harder and harder, though, and his other solution was becoming more attractive
all the time. Rocky shook his head. No, he would not go inside and get
drunk. He had promised his mother, after Jen had died, that he would not
use the bottle as an escape route again. Still, more and more, it seemed
like the only option he had left.
"Rocky?" Whirling
to see who had spoken, Rocky saw his brother Pedro standing in the doorway,
concerned.
"Hey, Pedro.
I thought you were still at college," Rocky answered, picking up his towel.
"We've got a
week off. Mom called and told me about Jason, so I thought I'd come home
and see how you're doing."
"How does it
look like I'm doing?" Rocky yelled, his anger and fear exploding all at
once. "One of my friends is dying slowly! I should have done something-
should be doing something! Instead all I'm doing is beating up on a punching
bag and trying not to get drunk!"
Pedro was a
little taken aback by the violence of his younger brother's outburst. Except
for a similarity in their heights, the De Santos brothers were as different
as night and day. Pedro had their late father's Mexican features, with
dark skin, hair and eyes. Rocky was lighter, with their mother's midbrown
coloring. The differences extended to their personalities as well. Pedro
was intense, throwing himself into everything he did, while Rocky was the
easygoing, laid-back brother. If he was yelling, then the stress on him
must have reached the breaking point.
"I know you're
hurting, Rocky," Pedro told him quietly. "This has been a bad year for
you, hasn't it? But you are not responsible for this sort of thing. It
just happened. Jennifer was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jason's just unlucky. Look, I'm no good at this. I'm in pre-law, not Psychology.
Maybe you should talk to Father Callahan down at St. Maria's. He's trained
to give advice in these situations."
Rocky almost
laughed at the image of him spilling his story to the rather staid priest.
Then he sobered. Actually, Father Callahan would take it in stride. Nothing
ever seemed to faze him. Still, he couldn't break his word to Zordon. Then
an idea hit him. "I think I have someone who I can talk to about this,
thanks," he told his brother. "I'm glad you're home, Pedro."
Pedro smiled.
"Hey, what are big brothers for?"
Zordon was startled
out of his thoughts about Jason's predicament by the tone which signaled
an incoming sub-space transmission. "On screen," he commanded the computer.
Instantly, the viewing globe lit up, showing a picture of Billy.
"Billy, this
is indeed a surprise. Is everything all right on Aquitar?" the inter-dimensional
being asked, concerned. The picture was somewhat fuzzy, subspace transmissions
not being of the greatest clarity, but Zordon thought that Billy's eyes
appeared red. It looked as if the young scientist had been crying.
"Oh, yeah, Zordon.
Everything's fine," Billy replied. From the strangled tone in his voice,
however, Zordon deduced that something was indeed wrong with Billy. In
his rather limited experience with humans, the ancient sage had noticed
that many of them said "Everything's fine," when what they really meant
was, "Everything's going wrong." He had idly wondered whether this particular
behavior was confined to teenagers, or present throughout the majority
of the species. Bringing himself back to the present, Zordon heard Billy
continue. "I'm- I'm coming home. I can't stand being away from Earth anymore.
The Aquitian Rangers have prepared a teleportation beam for me. I'll arrive
on Earth in about three minutes."
"The Power Chamber
is standing by to receive you, Billy," Zordon replied softly. He had thought
that this day might come. Love can make all places seem like home, but
it must be very strong. He had not seen that strong a bond in Billy and
Cestria, although he had been wrong about such things before. Memories
and thoughts of things that might have been rose before Zordon, but were
swept away for the time being. Right now, two of his Rangers needed his
help. In a way, they were his children, the children he had never had.
Since he was stuck in this time warp, they were the only children he would
ever have, and he loved them as much as any father loved his children.
Billy's blue-white
teleportation signal began to coalesce in the center of the Power Chamber,
and soon after, Billy was solid once more. He kept his eyes downcast, a
sure sign that he had been crying. Zordon smiled to himself. Did Billy
really think he wouldn't notice? Although the worst of the teasing Billy
had endured in his life had passed by the time he became a Ranger, it had
not stopped completely. Also, Billy had always been the most sensitive
of the original five Rangers. As a result, Zordon had had plenty of opportunities
to observe Billy's behavior after he had been crying. It was always the
same.
"Welcome home,
Billy," the wizard rumbled quietly. "It is good to see you again. I'm sure
your father and friends will feel the same way."
"Yeah," Billy
replied listlessly. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"
Zordon took
a deep breath. It really isn't fair, he thought. Of all the times
to drop this bombshell, and all the people to drop it on, this combination
must be the worst. "Billy, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Do you
remember that Jason had an adverse reaction to the Golden Powers which
left him extremely weak?"
Billy's head
snapped up and he frowned. "Sure, I remember. Why?"
"Apparently
Jason's troubles didn't end with returning the Golden Powers to Trey. He
is dying, Billy. His life-force is slowly leaking out of him and neither
I nor Trey knows how to stop it."
Billy had been
growing more and more pale throughout Zordon's reply, and now his knees
felt like rubber. He sat down very abruptly, not caring that there was
nothing beneath him but floor. Dying? Jason was dying? Billy couldn't accept
that. Jason was so energetic, so alive. He'd taught Billy so much. Jason
had been one of the first people to treat him as more than a brain, had
been the first to invite him to do things. He'd taught Billy about discipline
from that first karate class, and about courage in so many little ways.
Jason had never backed down from a fight, but he'd walk away from one if
you'd let him. The thought of Jason, the first best friend he'd ever really
had, dying was shattering.
Billy raised
his head, no longer ashamed of the fresh tears standing in his eyes. "Jason
always told me that you never give up without a fight. Where do we start?"
Zordon smiled.
In all their long acquaintance, he didn't think that he'd ever been more
proud of Billy.
California is
mostly desert. The few islands of green that man has managed to establish
there are fragile and small. Step beyond the boundaries of the cities,
and the desert descends with the speed and force of a diving eagle. Angel
Grove was no exception to the rule. Out in that desert, on a high mesa,
a single Jeep was parked. The afternoon sun beat down on it, but its occupants
paid no attention. They were far too busy with their own problems.
"I can't believe
it," David repeated, his shock evident in his voice. "He's always been
so strong."
Katharine, her
head on his shoulder, nodded. "I feel so numb. Like I should be feeling
something, but don't. It's not real to me yet, I suppose. I'm having a
much harder time dealing with the thought that Rangers are mortal, just
like other people. I always knew we could die in battle, but of something
like this, just from having those powers," she shook her head. "It's scary."
"It's natural,"
David told her. "You- we don't know him all that well. A few months' friendship,
a lot of stories, and that's it. You really have no base to grieve him
from, especially because he's not dead. If he does die, you'll feel it
then."
"David, you
know I love you, right? It hit me the other night that I don't say that
nearly enough. Something could happen, and we'd never see each other again."
He held her
tightly, running one hand up and down her arm. "I love you, too, Kat. I
always will, no matter what happens to us." They fell silent then, watching
the desert and all its harsh beauty.
Tanya rapped
at the door of the Cranston garage. "Adam?" she called. When she didn't
get an answer, she carefully pushed the door open. Inside, she found Adam
sprawled on the couch, dead asleep, with no sign of Billy. Sighing, she
walked over to him and shook him awake.
"Damn it, Adam,"
she growled, once he was coherent enough to understand her. "Did you and
Billy spend the whole night looking at those medical tests again?"
"I dunno, maybe,"
he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "There has to be something we missed.
There has to be."
"Where's Billy?"
"I think he
managed to drag himself upstairs. I dunno, after three o'clock, everything
got a little blurry."
Tanya sighed,
sinking down onto the couch next to Adam. "Adam, you and Billy are going
to kill yourselves if you keep going on like this. You have to sleep."
Adam shook his
head. "No sleep. I have caffeine, that's all I need. There'll be time enough
to sleep when we've found a way to help Jason."
"And what if
you can't?" she shot back, her voice rising. "Are you going to go without
sleep for the next five and a half months? You'll collapse long before
then." He just stared back at her stubbornly. Exasperated, she tried another
tactic. "Adam, it hurts me to see you killing yourself like this. I know
you feel that you have to find a solution, but sometimes there isn't one.
Sometimes you just have to accept what's happened and live with it. When
my parents disappeared, when I thought they were dead, I was full of fantasies
and ideas about how they were just lost, and I was going to find them.
Eventually, though, I had to accept that I would never see them again.
You can't let loss make you afraid to go on living. Ashala told me once
that the greatest memorial the dead can have is for the living who love
them to go on living as best they can. Jason's having a hard enough time
dealing with this as it is. Don't make it any harder on him."
Adam let out
his breath in a long rush, then drew her close and rested his head on her
shoulder. She sat holding him until he fell asleep once again.
The Angel Grove
youth center was always a place full of sound and life. That was one of
the reasons Jason was so drawn to it now. He could sit at a table, drink
a juice, and almost forget his predicament for a while. "Almost" because
there was always someone looking at him in sympathy. Jason didn't really
mind that. He could handle sympathy. At least it wasn't pity.
He was enjoying
himself at Ernie's annual Halloween party, dressed as a vampire, when Emily,
who had come as a princess, came up to him. Drawing him aside, out of the
hubbub of the crowd, she looked down at her own feet for a long while before
she spoke.
"Jason, this
is hard for me to say, and I know it's going to be hard for you to hear.
I've tried to be here for you, and not pull away, but I can't. I can't
be strong anymore. I want to break up with you."
Jason was stunned.
"What? Why?"
Shaking her
head, Emily appeared to be on the verge of tears. "I can't watch you get
weaker and weaker, the way you have been. I can't watch you dying!" Taking
a deep breath, she pulled herself together and continued. "When I was ten,
my grandmother died of cancer. She just wasted away. I- I can't watch someone
else go through that. I'm sorry. No hard feelings?" she asked wistfully.
Somehow, Jason
managed to smile, even through his pain. "No, Emily. No hard feelings.
I understand, and we'll always be friends." She nodded at him and disappeared
back into the crowd. Jason, left alone, felt as if someone had mistaken
him for a real vampire, and pounded a stake through his heart.
One morning in
early November, Dr. Lita Kino walked into her office, looked at her schedule
for the day, and began to chuckle. Her first three appointments, in order,
were Jason Scott, Tommy Oliver, and Rocky De Santos. Suddenly, she sobered.
If all three were coming to see her, then something must have gone wrong
for the Power Rangers. Sighing, she sat down at her desk. This was going
to be yet another interesting day.
Jason walked
into Lita's office, looking even paler and weaker than when she had first
met him. Lita frowned. Did this have something to do with three Rangers
coming to see her at once? Sitting down in the chair across from her desk,
Jason took a deep breath.
"Um, I suppose
you'll want to know why I'm here. It's not a Ranger problem exactly. You
remember that I lost the Gold Ranger powers because they were incompatible
with human biology? Well, we didn't realize it, but the powers damaged
me fairly badly. My life-force is leaking out, and I can't stop it. I'm
dying. I've got approximately five months left."
Lita was stunned.
She could hardly believe that someone as alive as Jason could be dying.
Still, she'd counseled victims of terminal diseases before, and her training
kicked in. "How are you feeling?"
He sighed. "I'm
numb, I guess. Somehow, I always expected this. Ever since joining the
Rangers, I had a feeling that I wasn't going to live a long life. I just
always thought that I'd go out in battle."
"Are you afraid
to die?"
"You know, that's
the really funny thing. I'm not. I guess I used to be, but not anymore.
I've seen so much that I know- I just know that there's nothing
to worry about on the other side. I'll miss living, but I'm not afraid
to die.
"What's worse
than dying is the fact that I'm deteriorating. I'm weak, I'm tired, I can't
defend myself, I could well be a danger to everyone around me. That's what
I'm scared of. My girlfriend broke up with me a couple days ago, because
she couldn't stand to watch me go downhill. Am I going to lose all my friends
like that?"
Lita shook her
head. "Of course not, Jason. Your friends will stand by you forever, no
matter what happens. The type of bond you have can't be broken so easily."
Jason smiled
at her. "Thanks, Lita. It's good to have someone to talk to."
"Negative," the
computer beeped for what had to be the twentieth time. Frustrated, Billy
slammed his fist down onto the desktop. Nothing again. No matter what he
tried, nothing worked. Sighing, he pulled himself together. Getting angry
wasn't going to help Jason. Carefully, he loaded yet another treated blood
sample into the analyzer and sank down on his couch to await the results.
While he waited, his mind began to wander.
He'd been home
a few weeks now, but he couldn't stop thinking about the events which had
brought him home, and those that had occurred directly after his arrival.
He didn't want to think about them, but they came into his mind anyway.
Especially Cestria, and the look on her face when he told her he was leaving.
Knuckling the
tears from his eyes, Billy could still see her stricken expression when
he had explained, slowly and carefully, why he was going back to Earth
for good. "It's not that I don't love you," he had told her, "it's just
that I don't love you enough, or in the right way. Cestria, you've been
very important to me, and I wouldn't trade this for anything. It's just-
there's no real passion there. And as much as I love you, Aquitar will
never be home for me. I'm sorry."
She had understood,
even though she would miss him, and had even kissed him on the cheek before
leaving. He hated to think that he might have broken her heart, but he
couldn't stay. In the end, it wouldn't have been fair to either of them.
Then he had
returned to Earth and made a discovery that made his own pain seem trivial.
Jason, one of his oldest and best friends, was dying. Not from the machinations
of Zedd, or Mondo, but from Ranger powers and his own body going haywire.
Almost against his will, Billy was assaulted by images of the two of them
throughout their lives. His first day in a new school, in fourth grade.
Bulk and Skull, bullies even then, had attempted to make his day miserable.
Jason had stepped in and run the two of them off. Almost immediately, the
two had become fast friends. Then, Jason had introduced the young genius
to Trini, one of his other friends, and Billy's first love began. The three
had been inseparable all their lives. In fifth grade, Kimberly Hart, newly
arrived from Seattle, had joined the group, and in sixth grade, they had
picked up Zack Taylor, from Washington DC. Through it all, Jason had been
the center of the action, always in charge. The thought of being without
him was numbing. It was as if all the gravity in Billy's world had been
destroyed, and he was drifting helplessly along.
Billy's mind
then leaped forward to the night he had come home from Aquitar. His father
had met him at the door, astounding him. Then Billy had noticed the communicator
on his father's wrist. When he asked about it, he received a bit of a shock.
He had not had time to bid goodbye to his father when he had left for Aquitar
after his aging, and the Rangers had assured him that that detail would
be taken care of. Apparently, Tommy and Jason had taken care of it, morphing
and informing Hank Cranston that there had been an accident involving his
son. They had given Mr. Cranston an extremely edited version of events
and left him a communicator so that they could contact him in case Billy
was ever able to call home. When Billy had arrived home this time, Zordon
had simply beeped Hank and informed him of Billy's impending arrival. After
the explanations, the two men had stared at each other in silence for a
minute, and then embraced each other.
Billy sighed.
That was what he had missed on Aquitar. As much as he had cared about Cestria
and liked the Aquitian Rangers, it hadn't been home, and they hadn't been
his family. Family was one of the most important things in the world. At
least Jason would have his friends and family around him. No one should
die alone, Billy thought, unknowingly echoing Jason's thoughts of almost
a month and a half earlier. Just then, the computer beeped its signal that
it was done with its analysis. Sighing, Billy levered himself up off the
couch to go check the readout.
Trini Kwan was
just finishing her assignment for math class when a knock at the door drew
her attention. She frowned. Her roommate, Carla, never knocked. It was
the major bone of contention between them.
"Who is it?"
she called cautiously, rising to her feet. She wasn't expecting any trouble,
but a year as a Power Ranger had taught her to be careful all the time.
"It's Zack,"
came the reply. Now Trini was really worried. The voice sounded like Zack's,
but she had never heard the usually happy-go-lucky boy so disturbed. Opening
the door, she gasped. Zack looked physically ill, his dark skin an unhealthy
shade of gray, and the look in his eyes was that of a man who has just
lost his best friend.
"My gosh, Zack!
What's the matter? Is something wrong in your family?" she cried, ushering
him in.
Zack shook his
head. "Sit down, Trini. You're not going to like this." Warily, she sat.
"I got a call from Angel Grove today, from Billy. Jason-" Zack's voice
cracked, and he was unable to go on for a second. "Jason wrote to you about
the Gold Ranger powers, didn't he?"
"That he took
them and lost them again? Sure."
"Well, it's
worse than we thought." Zack took a deep breath. "Something went wrong.
The powers damaged his own life-force. He's dying."
"WHAT?"
"He's dying.
Oh, God, Trini," Zack, normally the most unflappable of the group, burst
into tears and threw himself into Trini's arms. She held him and cried
with him, unable to believe that this was happening. Jason, dying? Jason
had been her best friend from kindergarten. Even at five years old, they
had both been interested in martial arts, and a firm friendship had developed
between them. Jason had always been her protector, the center of the group
no matter what the occasion. With Jason gone, what was to keep the four
of them from spinning off in all directions, like rogue planets suddenly
released from their sun?
Zack knew that
sobbing in Trini's arms was wrecking the cool, unflappable image he had
created for himself, but he didn't care. He had felt so out of place in
his first days in Angel Grove, the inner-city black kid in a predominantly
white suburban town. He'd been so sure he wouldn't fit in,- and then Jason
had appeared, with his three friends and an offer to go to the youth center
and just "hang out." Zack had played it cool, unwilling to appear too eager,
but somehow, Jason had instinctively known what Zack really wanted to say
and had taken it for granted that he'd be there. That had started a friendship
unlike any that Zack had ever known. Jason had understood him, had taught
him martial arts, and had made the decision that had lead Zack and the
others into the greatest adventure of their lives, when they perhaps might
have turned it down. Without Jason, Zack wasn't sure he knew where to go
anymore.
After a while,
Trini forced herself to speak. "Do they- do they want us to come back?"
Zack shook his
head. "No. There's nothing we can do right now. If- if he gets worse, they'll
call us. We can decide what to do then." The two friends looked at each
other. They knew there was no decision to be made. Jason's welfare came
before the peace conference or their own schedules. He needed them and
they would be there. Jason was not going to die without his friends by
his side.
"Kimberly? Kimberly,
what's wrong?" Scott Mitchell called through the door to her room. Kimberly
Hart, sitting on her bed crying her eyes out, did not answer for a long
moment. Finally, she sighed, rose from the bed and opened the door. Scott,
a tall boy with white-blond hair and blue eyes, looked down at his girlfriend
in confusion. "What was that phone call about, angel?" he asked, choosing
his endearment carefully. The last time he had called her 'beautiful,'
she'd cried for almost an hour straight.
Taking a deep
breath, Kimberly looked up at him and pulled herself together. "An old
friend of mine in Angel Grove is really sick. They think he's dying."
"Oh, man. Kim,
I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
She smiled up
at him wistfully. "No, Scott, but thanks for asking. I just need to be
alone for a while, think some things through."
"Okay, I understand,"
he nodded. "You give me a call if you need me, all right?"
"I will, Scott."
Closing the door after him, Kimberly sighed and flopped down on her bed
again. When Billy had called with the news about Jason, she hadn't believed
it at first. Then she had immediately been plunged into her memories of
her friend.
Jason had always
been there for her, been her best friend. When she had arrived in Angel
Grove from Seattle, he had been the first person to make her feel welcome.
At the time, she had been recovering from her parents' divorce, so she
hadn't been the most congenial person in the world. Jason and his friends
had been so understanding, though. Slowly, she had come out of the shell
she had shut herself in.
During their
friendship, Jason had always been like a big brother to her. When people
tried to pick on her, or guys (mainly Skull) had tried to hassle her for
a date, Jason had been there, tall, dark, and very imposing. Jason had
always made Kimberly feel safe, even when they weren't together. With him
gone, what would she do?
Sighing, Kimberly
bent her thoughts to the present situation. There was only one thing for
her to do, really. Gymnastics and the Pan-Globals were unimportant compared
to being there for Jason. The only problem was Tommy. She had hurt him
very badly when they had broken up, and she wasn't sure she wanted to deal
with the feelings that seeing him would bring. She still loved him, she
couldn't deny that, but if she was honest with herself, she was afraid
of him as well. He had been so dark and dangerous, always within an arm's
length of some cliff inside himself. Always a step away from letting the
darkness in his heart take over.
When she had
come to Florida and met Scott, she had been drawn to him almost immediately.
He had Tommy's strength, humor, and gentleness without his carefully restrained
darkness of spirit. She sighed again. Tommy or no Tommy, Jason needed her.
She reached out and picked up the phone. Coach Schmit would be disappointed,
but she had to leave. She was going home at last.
In the Power
Chamber, the computers beeped and whirred incessantly, processing information,
searching tirelessly to some remedy for Jason's condition. Zordon didn't
hear them, however. He was too lost in his own thoughts.
How had things
come to this? Was there something he could have done? He had thought that
he and Trey had made the risks of taking the Gold Powers clear, but neither
of them had ever imagined anything like this. They had both assumed that
tiredness and weakness would be the extent of the powers' ill effects on
Jason. Now Jason was dying, and Zordon had to face losing yet another member
of his family.
He sighed as
his mind ranged back to his lovely wife Melita. Actually, she hadn't been
his wife in any official sense, but that had been a mere technicality.
She had been the Zeo Guardian, the protector of the Zeo Crystal, and her
calling had kept her from marrying. No Zeo Guardian could place another
person above the Crystal. Still, there had been a way for them to be together.
Each Guardian could choose a Co-Guardian to share his or her life and the
duty of guarding the Zeo Crystal. Plans had been made for the two of them
to cement their union in this way, but Lord Zedd's forces, led by Rita
Repulsa, had attacked, and in the battle, Zordon had been trapped in his
time warp. Unable to become Co-Guardian, he had had himself posted to Earth,
a minor planet near where Rita's dumpster had been placed. The small world
would need his help should Rita ever escape captivity, and on Earth, there
would not be so many memories of a time when he was whole to torment him.
Melita, unable
to stand their separation, had followed him to Earth's moon, where she
hid the Zeo Crystal, setting up a series of testing barriers with the help
of some wizards, escapees from the M-51 galaxy, which had recently fallen
to Master Vile. Then she had died of grief, while he could do nothing but
watch.
Melita had been
the only love in his life, and they had had no children. Perhaps that was
why he regarded the Rangers as his children. They were the only young people
he would ever teach, the only legacy he would give to the universe. He
loved them as if they were his own flesh and blood, and they all seemed
to regard him as a surrogate father.
All parents
have one or two children who are, if not their favorites, at least those
they most see themselves in. In a way, the Ranger Zordon regarded as his
heir was Jason. Perhaps it was because Jason was a natural leader, just
as Zordon had been. Only in his time as a member of the Order of the Meledan
had he not been in charge. Then he had been second-in command, following
the leadership of Lexian, then-Prince of Edenoi. Still, circumstances and
his own personality had often thrust Zordon into the role of leader, just
as they seemed to do for Jason. In addition, of all the teens he had brought
to the command center for the first time, only Jason had not been afraid.
Trini and Billy had been awed, Kimberly and Zack had been uncomfortable,
Tommy had been guilt-ridden, and they all had been afraid. Zordon had been
able to read it in their eyes. Only Jason had felt no fear. Almost instantly,
the two had developed a kinship.
Zordon sighed.
It was ironic, that of all the Rangers, the one he most regarded as his
son was the one he was in the greatest danger of losing. I fought to
keep Tommy on the team, and he was only losing his powers. We found a way
to save him. Hopefully, we can do the same for Jason.
In the middle
of preparing Thanksgiving dinner, Karen Scott put her knife down and started
to sob. Almost instantly, her husband was by her side, holding her tightly.
"Shh, shh, Karen. It'll be all right. We'll get through this," John whispered.
"Mashed potatoes
are Jason's favorite," she managed to gasp between sobs. "It just hit me
that this is the last Thanksgiving he'll be able to enjoy them."
John sighed.
"I know, honey." From out in the living room, he could hear the sounds
of Jason and Tommy arguing good-naturedly over which channel to watch,
with Rocky fruitlessly trying to mediate. The sound of the kids, so natural,
brought a lump to his own throat. It was all he could do not to break down
in tears of his own.
The last two
months had been understandably hard on the Scotts, but all of the Rangers
had been there for them. In a way, Jason's friends had become a true part
of the family. Tommy especially had provided much-needed stability for
both Jason and his parents. That was why the Rangers were all eating an
early Thanksgiving meal at Jason's, the Wednesday before the actual holiday.
"Aw, forget
it," Jason called, walking through the swinging doors to the kitchen. "Mom,
do we have-" His voice trailed off as he saw that his parents had been
crying. "Ah, Mom." He walked over to her and embraced them both. Wiping
her streaming eyes, Karen pulled away finally and turned back to her cooking.
"Go on, you
two, get out of here or I'll never get any work done." Jason and his dad
flashed smiles at each other and walked out onto the porch.
"I still can't
believe I didn't notice. Now that I think back, I can remember you being
gone a lot, and always dashing out of the house at odd times, but I never
once wondered what was going on."
Jason shrugged.
"I tried pretty hard to make you think things were normal, and to get you
to trust me. I guess I did a pretty good job."
"You did. Jason,
I want you to know something. I'm very proud of you. You obviously were
a very good Power Ranger, and that's a very brave thing to do. It especially
took courage to get back into it when you knew what it entailed. I'm very,
very proud of you."
"Thanks, Dad,"
Jason managed, glad that it was becoming dark. That way his father couldn't
see the tears gathering in his eyes.
Surreptitiously
knuckling away some tears of his own, John put his arm around his son.
"Come on. Let's go inside. I think your friends are waiting for us." Together,
they went inside.
"A sweater. Just
what I wanted," Jason grinned, looking down at his Christmas present from
Tanya. Over the three months that he had been ill, his weakness and paleness
had grown steadily worse, but his spirit was unbroken. He walked more slowly,
but still unaided. The seizures had indeed increased in frequency, but
still did not significantly interfere with his life. That was for later,
he supposed. Now, he and all the Rangers were celebrating Christmas together.
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, which they would all spend with their respective
families, but tonight, they were all together at the Power Chamber exchanging
gifts.
"Kat? What is
this thing?" David asked, holding up something that none of them could
identify.
"Modern art.
My aunt made it. I think it's titled "Flying Crane" or something. Don't
you like it?"
"You want a
straight answer?"
"Mmmm- no."
The mood at
the party was cheerful, but not annoyingly so. All of Jason's friends had
managed to come to terms with his situation, even Tommy, although that
had taken a lot of therapy from Lita. She had also been invited to the
party, but had declined, saying something about mistletoe and an old colleague.
Tommy hadn't asked further.
Sighing, Jason
detached himself from the party and headed outside. They wouldn't miss
him for a little while, and he needed a breath of fresh air. The desert
surrounding the Power Chamber was surprisingly warm for late December.
The temperature was merely brisk, not cold, and the wind was almost non-existent.
Above him, the sky was clear, and the stars shone like jewels.
Some time after
Jason came out, he heard footsteps behind him. He didn't even have to look
to know that it was Tommy. "Still feeling guilty, bro?" Jason asked, keeping
his eyes fixed on the stars.
Tommy chuckled.
"Not really. I'm not guilty anymore, just angry and despairing. I mean,
why you? Why not me? I'm the one we can stand to lose."
Jason whirled
on his friend angrily. "Don't think that! Don't ever think that! There
are so many people who love you and need you. I'm the one who's out of
place in Angel Grove. I've been gone so long, I haven't been able to fit
back into my place here. When I go, people will miss me. If you go, though,
you'd rip a big gaping hole in everybody's life! You are a better leader
for the Rangers than I ever was, you are better with the kids, and you've
been here! Kat loves you, even if it's not boyfriend/girlfriend-type love.
You have a sister and a brother, and all those kids you teach. Whatever
happens, happens for a reason."
"You really
believe that?"
"I have to.
Things would look pretty bleak if I didn't."
"What are we
going to do without you, Jase? You've been the heart and soul of this team
for so long."
"You'll survive.
That's all anyone can do. Besides, I'm not dead yet. Trey's machines give
me another three months. A lot can happen in three months."
"'And maybe
the horse will learn to sing,'" Tommy snorted, quoting from an old joke.
"Maybe. Anything's
possible, man. This job hasn't taught you that yet?" Tommy just looked
skeptical. Jason continued. "Look, remember the story of Pandora's box?
Every kid learns about that one sooner or later. When she let all the evils
out, it seemed like too much for men to endure, and even the gods took
pity. They put one more thing into the box, to make everything bearable.
That was hope."
"Hope, huh?"
Tommy sighed. "Well, this is certainly the time of year for it."
"Yeah." Suddenly
a star began to streak across the heavens. "Hey, a shooting star! Make
a wish!" Both boys wished silently, then Tommy stood.
"Come on, Jase.
Let's go inside. They're probably getting worried." He offered his hand
to his friend.
Rising slowly,
Jason took his best friend's hand. Then they went back into the Power Chamber,
together. Above them, the stars twinkled on, bright symbols of hope and
life.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wise men at their end know dark is right
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men, who caught and sang the sun in flight
And learned too late they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men who see with blinding sight,
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
....................-Dylan Thomas
The End... for now
