Hiya everyone! This little story popped into my head....uhhh a few days ago. In this there's such thing as a Shinsengumi. (Japanese belief thing...harhar) Shinsengumi are helpers from heaven who have suicided and to repent for their actions they help people into heaven. This particular shinsengumi is small so he can only grant three wishes. I'll usually refer to him/it as the helper.
Thanks!!
Danni
"Don't you tell me what to do, daughter dearest. When you're 90, then you can try. But not until then." Ponyboy held the phone to his ear, hand shaking with the effort.
"I am resting." The 85-year-old man protested, sounding like a child despite his age.
He sounded 14. Like the year Dally and Johnny had left him.
His white hair fell into his eyes, making him remember when it had been reddish brown. It hadn't been reddish brown for 20 years, though it was still silky.
"Oh leave an old man in peace." Ponyboy could hear his daughter laugh on the other end of the phone, at least his hearing hadn't left him. His eyesight was dimming, but his ears were as sharp as ever. No way anyone would ever catch him with one of those damn watchamacallit hearing aids or the gods forsaken bifocals. Not while there was breath left in his body. Which, sadly, mightn't be much longer. If he wanted to read he'd just have to get that newfangled talking book idea. Kids these days, never know what they'll come up with next.
"The kids and I are coming over, pops" His daughter seemed to have inherited Darry's take-charge personality. Which, as far as Pony could tell, was a good thing. Darry had passed away a while back.
"Pops? Do I have to get you a hearing aid? You there....?" His daughter was speaking to him, "Daddy? Are you okay?" Ponyboy emerged from his thoughts slowly, these days he never seemed to get enough thinking done.
When you're young you think you'll have your whole lifetime to think, but you really don't. There will never be, in this universe, enough time to think about everything you want.
"Don't you even mention those damn contraptions to me, Goldie, I told you I don't need one. Yes, I'll see you. Love you, Bye."
"Bye, Dad."
It had been so long since anyone had called him Ponyboy. He missed it like one would miss a part of their past. Truly and Deeply.
Though, he was no longer a boy and he realized that when he held a cup 10 years back and it would not stop clanking.
Rheumatism.
Not everyone can handle getting old. Two-Bit couldn't. At the ripe old age of 70, the wisecracking old greaser went on one too many joy rides.
And Ponyboy had been kind of happy for Uncle Keith, as Goldie had called him. At least he didn't have to stick around to see his body give out about him.
Pony's lungs were failing him. He's spent far too many years smoking without a care.
But what's done is done, and Ponyboy rose, his bones creaking.
The doorbell rang, his daughter, most likely. Ponyboy was still deep in thought as he shuffled like the old man he was towards the door.
He was short of breath before he reached the doorknob.
His grandchildren waited with their mother outside.
The youngest, Mickey, looked like a little Sodapop. Ponyboy felt like holding him forever and a day. His brown eyes and golden hair, his sunny disposition and startling good looks: all Soda's. He wanted to never let the kid go, he wanted to hold Mickey tightly, the way he could no longer hold Soda.
Something caught in Ponyboy's throat and even as he began to cough painfully he watched his daughter's panicked face through the screen door, "Daddy?"
He watched still, with an odd detachment as she broke through the screen and simultaneously dialed 911 on her cell phone.
Then he watched Mickey, holding his baby sister tightly, "Gampa, s'wrong? Gampa!?"
The coughing didn't ease, and he watched Goldie run for the oxygen tank he kept always by the entrance.
He watched, and then he collapsed.
Part II A Little Help.
But someone else was watching too. A nameless Shinsengumi cried tears of pain for the old one it had never met, only watched over.
(a/n if you don't know what shinsengumi are read the note at the beginning!)
"I want to help him." The helper cried, and it's heart hurt for the old one because it was near the old one's time.
"Go then. And give what peace you can." The Voice from above answered the helper, "But remember, you are only a helper. You may not go to heaven until I wish it." The Voice was kind, to let such a young helper whose powers weren't fully developed, go to help the old one.
The helper nodded his small head and raced down from his home in the clouds to find the old one's house. It was a shabby neighborhood, and the house looked lived in and comfy. It radiated love that usually came from a family whose bonds were tight, and the helper saw that the house itself had been helping the old one. Giving him love to ease the pain of life. Silently the helper thanked the house and ran straight through the old one's daughter on his way to the old one's room.
The woman continued to walk but settled down on the couch next to her children and fell into a deep sleep.
The clouds outside rumbled angrily, the sounds of gunshots went off in the distance, strange but not unusual. And the helper saw the old one shiver in his sleep.
This man, the old one, was nearing his time, he knew.
The helper had taken the form he had once used in life, that of a small boy.
The sound of labored breathing met his ears.
Ponyboy's eyes were closed though he was not sleeping.
The helper touched the old one's eyes gently, then his chest.
He put a little of his own energy into the man. Instantly Pony's eyes fluttered open and his breathing eased.
The old one, reached for the switchblade that never left his side, "who are you?"
The helper realized that he had no name. On Ponyboy's nightstand was a book titled Johnny Tremain.
"I'm....uh...I'm Johnny" The helper smiled up at Ponyboy, and in fact, the helper had big dark eyes and looked like a puppy.
Ponyboy froze, his gray eyes cloudy.
"Old one?" The helper peered into Ponyboy's face, "I'm here to grant you three wishes."
a/n
Was okie dokie? Uhm, well this is out of sheer curiosity but what would you want if you were dying and you got three wishes? I'd want my family and friends by my side, and be able to see the night sky, and be able to have time to tell everyone goodbye. Watcha think? R and R peas
Thanks!!
Danni
"Don't you tell me what to do, daughter dearest. When you're 90, then you can try. But not until then." Ponyboy held the phone to his ear, hand shaking with the effort.
"I am resting." The 85-year-old man protested, sounding like a child despite his age.
He sounded 14. Like the year Dally and Johnny had left him.
His white hair fell into his eyes, making him remember when it had been reddish brown. It hadn't been reddish brown for 20 years, though it was still silky.
"Oh leave an old man in peace." Ponyboy could hear his daughter laugh on the other end of the phone, at least his hearing hadn't left him. His eyesight was dimming, but his ears were as sharp as ever. No way anyone would ever catch him with one of those damn watchamacallit hearing aids or the gods forsaken bifocals. Not while there was breath left in his body. Which, sadly, mightn't be much longer. If he wanted to read he'd just have to get that newfangled talking book idea. Kids these days, never know what they'll come up with next.
"The kids and I are coming over, pops" His daughter seemed to have inherited Darry's take-charge personality. Which, as far as Pony could tell, was a good thing. Darry had passed away a while back.
"Pops? Do I have to get you a hearing aid? You there....?" His daughter was speaking to him, "Daddy? Are you okay?" Ponyboy emerged from his thoughts slowly, these days he never seemed to get enough thinking done.
When you're young you think you'll have your whole lifetime to think, but you really don't. There will never be, in this universe, enough time to think about everything you want.
"Don't you even mention those damn contraptions to me, Goldie, I told you I don't need one. Yes, I'll see you. Love you, Bye."
"Bye, Dad."
It had been so long since anyone had called him Ponyboy. He missed it like one would miss a part of their past. Truly and Deeply.
Though, he was no longer a boy and he realized that when he held a cup 10 years back and it would not stop clanking.
Rheumatism.
Not everyone can handle getting old. Two-Bit couldn't. At the ripe old age of 70, the wisecracking old greaser went on one too many joy rides.
And Ponyboy had been kind of happy for Uncle Keith, as Goldie had called him. At least he didn't have to stick around to see his body give out about him.
Pony's lungs were failing him. He's spent far too many years smoking without a care.
But what's done is done, and Ponyboy rose, his bones creaking.
The doorbell rang, his daughter, most likely. Ponyboy was still deep in thought as he shuffled like the old man he was towards the door.
He was short of breath before he reached the doorknob.
His grandchildren waited with their mother outside.
The youngest, Mickey, looked like a little Sodapop. Ponyboy felt like holding him forever and a day. His brown eyes and golden hair, his sunny disposition and startling good looks: all Soda's. He wanted to never let the kid go, he wanted to hold Mickey tightly, the way he could no longer hold Soda.
Something caught in Ponyboy's throat and even as he began to cough painfully he watched his daughter's panicked face through the screen door, "Daddy?"
He watched still, with an odd detachment as she broke through the screen and simultaneously dialed 911 on her cell phone.
Then he watched Mickey, holding his baby sister tightly, "Gampa, s'wrong? Gampa!?"
The coughing didn't ease, and he watched Goldie run for the oxygen tank he kept always by the entrance.
He watched, and then he collapsed.
Part II A Little Help.
But someone else was watching too. A nameless Shinsengumi cried tears of pain for the old one it had never met, only watched over.
(a/n if you don't know what shinsengumi are read the note at the beginning!)
"I want to help him." The helper cried, and it's heart hurt for the old one because it was near the old one's time.
"Go then. And give what peace you can." The Voice from above answered the helper, "But remember, you are only a helper. You may not go to heaven until I wish it." The Voice was kind, to let such a young helper whose powers weren't fully developed, go to help the old one.
The helper nodded his small head and raced down from his home in the clouds to find the old one's house. It was a shabby neighborhood, and the house looked lived in and comfy. It radiated love that usually came from a family whose bonds were tight, and the helper saw that the house itself had been helping the old one. Giving him love to ease the pain of life. Silently the helper thanked the house and ran straight through the old one's daughter on his way to the old one's room.
The woman continued to walk but settled down on the couch next to her children and fell into a deep sleep.
The clouds outside rumbled angrily, the sounds of gunshots went off in the distance, strange but not unusual. And the helper saw the old one shiver in his sleep.
This man, the old one, was nearing his time, he knew.
The helper had taken the form he had once used in life, that of a small boy.
The sound of labored breathing met his ears.
Ponyboy's eyes were closed though he was not sleeping.
The helper touched the old one's eyes gently, then his chest.
He put a little of his own energy into the man. Instantly Pony's eyes fluttered open and his breathing eased.
The old one, reached for the switchblade that never left his side, "who are you?"
The helper realized that he had no name. On Ponyboy's nightstand was a book titled Johnny Tremain.
"I'm....uh...I'm Johnny" The helper smiled up at Ponyboy, and in fact, the helper had big dark eyes and looked like a puppy.
Ponyboy froze, his gray eyes cloudy.
"Old one?" The helper peered into Ponyboy's face, "I'm here to grant you three wishes."
a/n
Was okie dokie? Uhm, well this is out of sheer curiosity but what would you want if you were dying and you got three wishes? I'd want my family and friends by my side, and be able to see the night sky, and be able to have time to tell everyone goodbye. Watcha think? R and R peas