By Nicki Knight
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"Mount up."
It was the last thing he had said before everything just went away.
No, not away.
Just gone.
Not vanished.
Not disappeared.
Not away.
Just, quite simply, gone.
`Guess that's settled.' Rawhide somehow thought. `No bright light, No fiery pit of hell. No booming voice of god. Not even a Saint Peter to judge me.'
Gone.
Death was being just gone.
His last whisps of faith went up with the slightest of poufs and then, it, too, was gone.
"Oh man. Oh man. Ohmanohmanohman..."
Rawhide stopped, though he wasn't sure if he had actually been moving. `That voice!'
"Come on, Perfect Tommy. You heard the man. Mount up. We've gotta get the overthruster back." That was... Reno?
Though Rawhide could not see them nor, actually, hear them. But he could feel them. They were close, standing over him...
No, not over him.
Over his body.
His dead body.
Dead...
Lifeless...
Late...
Deceased...
Gone.
"Are you sure about this, Jersey?" That was Buckaroo... but it was later now.
`How' Rawhide thought `could I know it is later and not know time is passing?' He'd of looked into how if he wasn't so gone.
"No." the new guys was saying. "I'm not sure. Everything I was ever taught, dead was dead."
Rawhide cursed himself for not taking the time to get to know the fella. Seemed nice enough. Smart too... well, geeky anyway. Little innocent, though. Perfect Tommy would take care of that soon enough.
"But, if they're right..." Buckaroo sounded hopeful.
Again it was later.
`Damn, I wish Gone would stop doing that!' Rawhide thought, feeling disoriented. His self paused, wondering if he could call it motion sick... or was it time sick?
"What is it, doc?" Peggy?
No! Penny! Penny Priddy... she tried to shoot Buckaroo. What the hell was she doing there? Ah, that's right. Buckaroo brought her home.
If he wasn't Gone, Rawhide would of sat his long-time friend down and have that talk with him. That talk that would of, very carefully, explained that Penny was not Peggy. Peggy was gone...
Gone.
Just like Rawhide.
"I can't help but wonder..." New Jersey was mumbling. "Are we messing with something that shouldn't be messed with?"
"What are you talking about?" Perfect Tommy. He was upset, hurting.
`Damn!' Rawhide cursed. `No matter what PT might want everyone to think, he was a scared kid who needed lookin' after.'
All of a sudden, Gone had more meaning to it. If Rawhide was Gone he couldn't look after Perfect Tommy. Couldn't have that talk with Buckaroo. Couldn't get at the new kid's innocence before PT did. Couldn't look into that time passing thing.
`Damn, Gone was certainly not all it was cracked up to be.'
"We're bringing him back!" Perfect Tommy was arguing. "What could be wrong with that?"
"Don't you believe in god?" New Jersey returned. "Maybe this is god's plan. Maybe this is the way it is supposed to be."
`All good arguments.' Rawhide considered.
"No!" Perfect Tommy was yelling. "I do not believe in a god that would allow this!"
Jersey wasn't giving in that easily. "Destiny... Fate... These words exist for a reason."
"Yea?" That was Penny again. Penny? She was sticking up for him?
Rawhide's self again paused. `What, exactly, was she sticking up for for him?'
"Fate?" Perfect Tommy snapped.
But, then came a voice of reason. "Heaven helps the man that helps himself." Buckaroo! "Do you think that, if this was his fate, we would of been supplied with the knowledge to undo it?"
If he hadn't been Gone, Rawhide would of kissed him. Spiritual and all, getting in a word of support right out of the bible!
Support for what?
"Heaven helps the man..." Jersey repeated to himself. Rawhide could feel a happy, assured glow pulse off the young doctor.
Suddenly Rawhide's Gone was no longer just gone.
Burning, screaming pain sliced through his back.
`I have a back?'
"Yahoo!" was hooted. "He's breathing!"
"Somebody get Perfect Tommy out of here!" Jersey snapped.
"We have a rhythm!"
Time passed.
Pain subsided.
The Gone went away.
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Rawhide slowly opened his eyes. God, his eye lids felt so damn heavy! His chest ached. His limbs tingled as if waking from a long, deep sleep.
"Hey, buddy." Buckaroo sat on the edge of his bed and leaned over him. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He smiled.
Rawhide opened his mouth to speak, but his voice couldn't seem to muster any real sound.
Buckaroo leaned down. "Say again, Rawhide?"
Gasping each, slight word used up all the energy Rawhide had, and fell back to sleep with the last syllable.
Grinning, Buckaroo sat up again and readjusted the blanket around his friend.
"What did he say?" New Jersey wanted to know as he stood at the foot of the bed.
Buckaroo glanced back at the young doctor. "Heaven helps the man."
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