The Hexagon
Chapter One – The Path Less Taken
Original Posting Date: February 3, 2010
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It was September of Nineteen ninety-seven when retirement was forced upon my teammates and me. At Dimitria's request, I left the team to "find myself." (As an aside, anytime I refer to this I will always quote "find myself." Sarcasm, seeing as how I think it was utter bullshit that we were forced to leave considering all we had given to the Rangers).
Anyway, as I was saying, I left the team to "find myself." This took me all of three months.
As you now know, I raced stock cars on a local professional circuit, and I continued doing so for another two months after my retirement. But everyone was gone — Adam and Tanya to Los Angeles to pursue careers in the entertainment industry, and Katherine to London where she attended the Royal Ballet Academy — and my love of the sport soon followed when I realized I didn't have a single friend at home to share it with.
By that point, I had lost two girlfriends to nothing more than physical distance; my best friend, Jason, was on the other side of the country studying criminal justice; and while the nearest ex-Ranger to me, Rocky, was only twenty miles away in Stone Canyon, he was now busy running his own karate school. And when I say nearest ex-Ranger to me, I mean the nearest in my age bracket. Justin was still in Angel Grove, but as a nineteen year-old man, there wasn't much that I could do with a fourteen year-old high school kid. He certainly became a valuable asset to the Hexagon in later years, though, but you'll learn about that later.
Now, back to me; at that point in my life, I was, for lack of a better word, lost.
Of course, that's why Dimitria wanted me to "find myself", now wasn't it? The problem with that was that I had already found myself; I just hadn't realized it yet. The truth is that I had found myself the very first time I stood side-by-side with the other Rangers in the fight against Rita.
But while the others may have been content to allow their place as Rangers to become mere memories, I was not prepared to do so. Being a Ranger had meant everything to me for so long, I just could not allow it to become a footnote in my life. Being a Ranger was my life.
And so I decided in November, on the night before Thanksgiving, that I would dedicate my life to the Rangers and their struggles, for I knew that there would be many in the years to come. Rita's initial presence on Earth, it seemed, had opened up a continuing influx of evil beings intent on conquering the planet. When one enemy was defeated, a new one simply showed up in its place in what soon became a repetitious series of events.
I still remember the day I chose my future's path. It was a rainy day, as it had been for the last two. The sun had barely been seen at all in the three days since the unthinkable had happened; Divatox had not only destroyed the Power Chamber — and the Turbo powers themselves in the process — but another, even more sinister being, Dark Specter, had succeeded in capturing Zordon and was slowly draining him of his powers.
Though young Justin stayed behind, the remaining, and now powerless, Turbo Rangers bravely raced into space to find Zordon. It was this choice, a choice that I did not even make, that drove me to my decision. If four powerless teenagers were willing to traverse the depths of space to save a man they barely even knew, there was just no way that I could sit back and do nothing.
No, I would not go in search of Zordon. The life of a standing Ranger was no longer mine. However, I knew that I could do more than what I was currently doing, which, in retrospect, wasn't a whole hell of a lot.
When the rain finally stopped the day after Thanksgiving, I drove to the outskirts of Angel Grove and hiked the two miles uphill to where the Command Center had once been. It was my intention to find some kind of entrance to the Power Chamber, or whatever it was that remained of it anyway. Unfortunately, my cause soon seemed to be a lost one.
I spent hours searching the desert cliffs, pressing rock faces and moving stones in search of some sort of a secret entrance, but I could find nothing. In my heart, I knew I was missing something. Zordon had a backup plan for everything; there was no way this was the end.
Or was it? Maybe I wasn't supposed to find anything. Maybe Dimitria had been right. Maybe my destiny lay outside the Ranger world.
No, I told myself. I refused to believe that Zordon would turn his back on me at my time of greatest need. Yes, that is perhaps the most selfish thing you will read in this account, but that was how exactly how I felt at the time. I did not care that Zordon needed help far more than I. I felt abandoned, and abandoned people often have the tendency to blame their problems on those around them.
Hardheadedly, I pressed on. In the end, it was my stubbornness that seemed to guide the way for me. In a fit of anger, I smashed my fist into the rocky face of a cliff and began to walk away, refusing to show any sign of pain from my momentary lapse of stupidity even though my hand throbbed violently.
It was then that the ground suddenly began to tremble around me.
The ground quickly split in half from there, and soon I was freefalling through a wide pit of darkness with no apparent end in sight. After nearly two minutes of this, I saw ground again. Surprisingly, my landing was quite soft for what I quickly estimated to be a nearly eleven-thousand foot fall. It was quite like a trampoline actually; absorbing me and shooting me back up multiple times until I could control my body enough to stop.
Once I was on my feet, the ground immediately became solid, and my first instinct became defending myself. Though I had come here with pure intentions, there was no guarantee that I had ended up in this position by pure means. Malevolence, unfortunately, always had to be considered whenever something strange happened to occur in the Ranger world.
It did not take long for it to become apparent that this was not the case, though. A short distance away was a single, small spray of light that seemed to come from no real source. It was simply there, illuminating what looked like a steel door.
I approached cautiously and found that it was indeed a door, and one that was rather easy to open at that. I then stepped through the threshold and into a long, narrow, dimly lit hallway. The door closed behind me without aid, followed immediately by a very loud rumbling from outside, and then an even louder crash. Curiously, I pulled open the door to find that the opening in the cliff had now been sealed once more; there was only one way I could go now, and so I continued down the hallway.
I don't remember how long I walked exactly, only that it seemed like the hallway, with its sometimes sporadic and sometimes frequent turns, would never come to an end. Alas, anything with a beginning eventually has an end, including this particular hallway.
Where it ended, oddly enough, was no surprise at all. At the place where the hallway stopped, a deep and rocky cavern continued in its place. To the left was what looked like a wall of green slime, but I knew better.
Knowing that this vortex would take me into whatever remained of the Power Chamber, I walked through it without hesitation and found exactly what I was looking for.
While the Power Chamber was certainly not the way I remembered it, it was not nearly the mess I was expecting to find. Truth be told, there was no debris at all. In fact, aside from the wide blast door on the east wall and the Zeo-era suits that now lined the west wall, there was nothing else in the entire room except for a large oaken table that stood at the heart of the room, and atop which rested two moderately sized wooden crates.
Unfortunately, I quickly found myself in yet another predicament. The crates were nailed shut and I was not about to take the risk of forcibly breaking them open without knowing what their contents were.
Deciding that my only option would be to carry the crates to my truck, I walked over to the blast door and prayed that reaching my truck would not be another quest in itself. To the left of the door was a single red button that I hastily pressed; the door slid open, revealing a short hallway with a staircase to the left that led to yet another blast door. It was when I opened this second door and saw where I was that I outwardly cursed my own stupidity.
I was at the very bottom of the mountain itself, staring at my pickup truck parked no more than twenty or thirty feet away. In utter disbelief, I walked outside and examined the rock face that concealed this entrance into the Power Chamber.
I could not believe that I had not realized what it was as soon as I had parked next to it. There was a spray of vibrant green ivy on either side of the wall; even I knew that a wall of ivy like this did not just naturally occur on a desert cliff.
Yet, it had fooled me. Perhaps Zordon had known that it would. I've often wondered just how much about our futures Zordon actually knew. I've always felt it was much, much more than he ever let on, that's for damn sure. We'll come back to that at another time, though.
Moving along…
Ten minutes later I had the crates secured in the bed of my truck and had no trouble moving them into the house seeing as how both of my parents were still at work. I grabbed a hammer from my dad's tool box in the garage and then raced back upstairs, hastily removing the nails from the first crate until I was able to remove its lid.
My brow immediately furrowed as I peered inside the crate. It appeared to be piled high with nothing more than documents. I picked up a stack and began to flip through them: some had pictures; some had writing; some had writing in languages I had never even seen before; and some were a combination of the three. Yet somehow I knew what they were, or at least had a general idea of what they were.
What I now had in my possession were a combination of blueprints, instruction manuals, and material lists for a number of Ranger-related devices. Again, it was as if Zordon had known I would come looking for these things, the very things I needed to begin my work.
Eager to see what else he had left me, I returned the documents to the crate and hastily removed the lid from the other container, only to discover that there was very little inside. In fact, the crate held but two objects: one, a small oaken box with a simple latch lock; the other, a single sheet of yellowing parchment. I removed the paper first and read the short, yet quite personal note.
Though your discovery is a great one, your journey has only just begun, it read. The power to do great things is now at your disposal. Use it wisely.
May the Power watch over you forever,
Zordon of Eltar
My eyes were slightly misted, knowing in my heart that Zordon had done all of this with me in mind. He had known that I would come back, probably because I always had before. Aside from Billy, I was the only member of his first team that had never left by choice, and alone, the only one who had never even considered leaving the Rangers; I was the only one he could trust with something this big.
With a small smile, I set the parchment aside and lifted the smaller box out of the crate. It opened with surprising ease, the lock posing no sort of challenge at all. If I had been confused by the documents initially, I can only imagine the bewildered expression on my face when I saw the five pairs of Zeonizers, the instruments my teammates and I had used to become Zeo Rangers. I was almost certain they had been destroyed in Divatox's attack on the Power Chamber, but clearly that was not the case.
Before I had even realized what I was doing, my Zeonizers were strapped around my wrists and I was running downstairs, yelling out for my parents just to make sure they weren't home. Satisfied that they weren't, I returned to my room and silently approached the mirror that hung over my dresser.
I had to know.
Thrusting my closed fists in front of me, I shouted, "It's Morphin' Time!" One at a time, my arms went above my head only to be swung simultaneously to either side. I then brought my arms back together, connecting my Zeonizers in a "t" fashion. "Zeo Ranger Five, Red!" I yelled, closing my eyes as I felt the Power wash over me the instant I had completed the call.
When I reopened my eyes a moment later, I was fully morphed, a wry grin on my face as I stared at the red-clad, helmeted man in the mirror. For the first time in months, everything was starting to make sense again.
From there, I spent the next couple of days sifting through the many different documents, finding everything from instructions on creating a basic energy scanner, to Zord blueprints, to designs for a primitive teleportation system that Zordon seemed to have expanded on quite a bit over the years. Though I was no expert — Billy would have been an amazing asset here — it looked as if Zordon had started with a network of individual portals located throughout a specific region that had somehow evolved into the system we had used. While there were no outlines for a direct teleportation system like ours, I imagined the specs for these portal networks would come in handy one day down the line.
After the documents had all been thoroughly examined, though, I soon found myself at yet another standstill. Where did I go from here? I alone did not have the capability to do that which I knew needed to be done; neither financially nor from an education standpoint. I had made quite a bit of money racing stock cars, but not nearly enough to finance a project like this; and while I had been a top student in my graduating high school class, I had nothing in the way of a college education, and college was the only place where I could acquire the basic knowledge that I needed to move forward with my plans.
It was with those thoughts in mind that I enrolled at Angel Grove Community College for the spring of Nineteen ninety-eight semester, and soon after that began searching for a place to start building my base of operations. What that would end up being, I obviously did not yet know, but I will say that I had some pretty far-fetched ideas running through my head; some of these ended up coming to fruition in one way or another, but most were tossed away once I realized what I was working with.
By the time the spring semester had reached its end, I had found the perfect location, three hours away in a town called Reefside. The house was everything I needed: secluded from civilization on five acres of forest land, with a basement that had more than enough space to house whatever projects arose in the foreseeable future.
I moved in that summer, but I still did not have the necessary resources to do anything more productive than hypothesize. I needed help, but there was no one I could turn to. Billy was the only one I knew who could break these documents down into something feasible, but he was hundreds of thousands of miles away on Aquitar.
Instead, I transferred to the University of Reefside, spent my summer furnishing the house and reinforcing the basement walls with steel, and tried to maintain the hope that something (or someone) helpful would present itself. And it soon did. Though, in retrospect, I almost wish it wouldn't have.
Everything I felt like I needed to do was predicated on the fact that Zordon had been, and still was, imprisoned by the United Alliance of Evil, a sinister group of villains combining all those that my teammates and I had battled, as well as their leader, Dark Specter, and an evil queen called Astronema. I was doing these things only as a backup plan in case the worst happened.
Then the worst happened.
It had been the day before Thanksgiving the year prior when I made the decision to follow this path. One year to the date, my future became cemented forever. This was also the day that I stopped believing in coincidences.
I was planning on visiting my parents in Angel Grove for the Thanksgiving holiday, and was in the middle of packing a duffel bag that evening when a sound I had not heard in quite some time filled my bedroom. I recognized at once the six-tone chime of the wrist communicator that we, the Rangers, had used to communicate with Zordon and Alpha in the Command Center, as well as each other when we were not together.
My heart began to race against my chest as I ran to the nightstand next to my bed and opened the topmost drawer where my communicator lie, flashing and still chiming, right next to my Zeonizers, atop an old high school yearbook. Confusion, fear, excitement…I was an insane mix of extreme emotion as I shakily raised the communicator to my lips and pressed the side button.
"Th-this is Tommy," I murmured hesitantly.
"Tommy, I'm glad you answered," said the voice of a male I had never heard before. I could detect an immediate hint of somberness in his tone, though.
"Who is this?"
"My name is Andros," he replied. "I'm a fellow Ranger."
At this point, I was not so sure. Obviously, this person knew that I was a former Ranger, but that did not necessarily mean that he was one as well. Again, caution is always best when approaching something strange in the Ranger world.
"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" I asked.
"I can prove it to you, if you'd like," answered Andros.
Before I could reply, however, there was a tap on my bedroom window. Scooping up my Zeonizers, I hastily strapped them on as I approached the window, pulling away the curtains and nearly having a heart attack in the process.
Standing…no, floating, outside my window was a fully morphed Red Ranger on some kind of jet propelled glider. Having seen them on the news a few times, I recognized the uniform at once as those of the Space Rangers, four of whom I knew to be our Turbo replacements. Deciding that I was safe — but still ready to morph at a moment's notice — I opened the window.
"Would the front door have been more practical?" the Red Ranger asked.
"If I had neighbors, maybe," I said with something of an awkward chuckle. Doing a quick look around to make sure my room was relatively clean — something it had a notorious habit of not being — when I was satisfied that it was, I then returned my attention to the Red Ranger and asked, "So, uh, do you want to come in and tell me what's going on?"
The Red Ranger merely nodded and then launched into an effortless front-flip through my window, de-morphing upon landing. Staring at his back, had it not been for having already heard his voice, I would have had no idea that he was a man. His hair was longer than mine, a mixture of blonde and black, and he wore a gray uniform that hugged his slender figure in a way that deceived any sort of guess at gender.
Then he turned around and I saw that his dark brown eyes were glazed over dramatically, as if he had not slept in many days. Still, he forced himself to smile as he extended his hand and said, "I'm Andros."
"Tommy," I replied, taking his hand and shaking it briefly. "I, uh, I hope you don't mind me being blunt, but what the hell is going on? I haven't been active for almost two years now."
Andros looked down. "There's no easy way to say this, Tommy," he murmured, slowly raising his eyes to face me. "Zordon's gone."
"What?" I questioned, my tone both surprised and condescending, as if he had just said the stupidest thing imaginable.
"He's gone," Andros repeated. "Zordon's dead."
Hearing it again left my legs suddenly weak and I found myself clutching at the banister of my bed frame as I shakily moved into a sitting position on the edge of my mattress. Staring Andros directly in his eyes, I asked, "How do you know?"
"Because —" he started, looking away momentarily, "Because I killed him."
"WHAT?" I roared, on my feet and rushing at Andros like my legs hadn't just given out on me fifteen seconds prior. In a moment's time I had him by the collar of the red shirt he wore beneath his gray jacket, driving him into the nearest wall as hard as I could, pinning him there as I demanded, "Tell me I didn't just hear what I think I heard. TELL ME I DIDN'T JUST HEAR THAT! GODDAMNIT, I'VE NEVER KILLED ANOTHER HUMAN BEING BEFORE BUT THERE'S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING!"
I could feel the heat in my face and neck, as well as my pulse throbbing rapidly. I couldn't imagine many people not being afraid of me at this point, but Andros did not seem fearful in the slightest. In fact, he was the most collected I had seen him in our short time together.
"I'm sorry, Tommy," he said softly. "I know what he meant to you. Believe me when I tell you that it was not something I wanted to do."
"Then why did you?" I growled through gritted teeth, using every ounce of self-control I had not to rip his head from his neck.
"Because he ordered me to," said Andros. "He said it was the only way to stop the war for good. And he was right. As hard as it is to admit it, he was absolutely right. Rita, Zedd, the Machine Empire, Divatox…they're all gone now."
"No, they're not," I argued ignorantly. "It'd be all over the news if it was."
"No, it wouldn't," Andros countered, shaking his head. "You don't live in Angel Grove anymore, Tommy. And there's something about Rangers that always seems to keep them localized. Unless you're specifically looking for them, you'll never hear anything about them. You should know that more than anyone."
"Yeah," I muttered slowly, finding myself calming down by the moment. "Yeah, you're right."
My grip on Andros's shirt slackened as realization set in and my legs suddenly gave out once more. I was quite surprised when Andros came to my side and helped me into a seated position once more, especially after the way I had just treated him.
"He-he's really gone?" I asked desperately. With a saddened expression, Andros simply nodded. "So you just came here to tell me?"
"No, not just that," said Andros, shaking his head. "I'm here because Zordon requested I come to you personally. I don't know how much you know about our team, but Alpha-6 was onboard the Astro Megaship with us. After I had delivered the news to Alpha and my team that Zordon was gone, Alpha asked to speak with me alone. He had a video recording that Zordon had left with him, to be played for me and only me, and only after he was no longer living."
"What did it say?"
"Not much," Andros answered bluntly, "Just that it had been an honor serving with the Rangers, that he was proud of us all, and that a former Ranger named Tommy Oliver would be in need of my help now that he was gone."
"Your help?" I questioned in confusion. "What could you —?" I paused, thinking silently for a moment until it hit me. My eyes went wide with the realization that, for the last year, Andros had been the person I was looking for.
It would not be happening tonight, though. Andros looked so exhausted he might as well have been dead on his feet, and there was simply no way I was going to do anything else until I had informed my teammates of our loss. They deserved to know, and I, having been team leader for so long, felt that it was my responsibility to deliver this news.
I offered Andros some food and one of the guest rooms for the night, but he politely declined the latter. We spoke for a few more minutes, though it was mostly me listening to him explain everything that had happened with Zordon, and then we said goodbye, with Andros agreeing to return in two week's time.
I wanted to organize a proper memorial service for our fallen mentor, but with the Rangers all spread out across the world, I knew it would be difficult getting everyone together at the same time. As I watched Andros morph, summon what he called his Galaxy Glider, and shoot of into the night, I prayed that the other Rangers would be able to come.
Abandoning my packing completely, I made my way into the kitchen and removed the cordless phone from its dock. It was then, as I slowly dialed a number from memory, that I realized I was alone once more. Alone, I could show my true emotion.
I am not ashamed to admit that I wept at that point; Zordon had meant so much to me for so long. He had always seemed so indestructible, I could have never imagined this day coming in a million years.
Memories came flooding back in an instant, and I soon found myself lost in them. I was not surprised, though, that he had sacrificed himself to save the world, mostly because I had seen him risk his own life for the Rangers on multiple occasions. It was, if nothing else, a fitting end to Zordon's life, one that I knew he would be proud of.
And so I would be, too.
Clearing the emotion from my throat, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and returned my attention to my phone, which was now issuing a rapid beeping noise from the half-dialed number I had input. I quickly hung up and redialed the number, lifting the phone to my ear as I listened to it ring, hoping he would answer.
After the fourth ring, the line clicked. "Hello?" answered a deep male voice.
"Jason," I murmured slowly, finding it difficult to say anything more.
"Tommy?" Jason replied uncertainly.
Again, I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah," I said a bit more steadily. "Yeah, it's me."
"What's going on, bro? Everything okay?" he asked.
I let out a single sigh, shaking my head to myself as I replied, "No, bro, it's not. It's — it's Zordon, Jase. He — he's gone."
Jason's reaction was much the same as mine: disbelief at first; followed by a request for answers; and, finally, anger. And, yes, he too wanted to throttle Andros when I told him what the Red Space Ranger had done. But then the quality in Jason that had made him Zordon's first choice to lead the Rangers kicked in, and his concern shifted away from himself and his own emotions, to the other Rangers and what we were going to do about a memorial service.
Soon we were reminiscing, laughing and telling stories about our Ranger days, particularly those that involved Zordon directly. At that moment, I found it a bit weird that we were not controlled by our sadness and grief, but in the days that followed, Jason and I would reach the same conclusion about that conversation: deep down, we both knew that Zordon wasn't truly gone; he had simply moved on.
Still, we were both fully aware that this particular point in time wasn't necessarily the best to be joking around and sharing silly anecdotes — though we certainly could have done that for hours. In the end, it was Jason who breached this subject once more.
"Who else have you told?" he asked at one point.
"Just you so far," I answered. "All things considered, I figured you should be the first person I told."
As soon as those words escaped my lips, I prepared myself for Jason to ask the question I had been expecting the whole time: Why had Andros come to me, and not him? I did not want to tell the others — no, not even my best friend — about what I was doing yet; and I could not answer his question without explaining my plans. Fortunately, Jason did not seem to be concerned with this particular nuance.
"Yeah, I appreciate that," he murmured instead, allowing me to breathe an internal sigh of relief. "Look," he went on, "I know you were the leader a lot longer than I was, but would you mind if I called my team at least?"
I let out a small chuckle at that. "Can we compromise?"
"What do you mean?" asked Jason with a laugh of his own.
"I'll trade you Kat for Kim."
Again Jason laughed, this time with much more power behind it. "Really?" he replied. "You want to call Kim? I figured you wouldn't want anything to do with either one of them."
I hated that I began laughing right along with him, but I just could not help myself. My bad luck with Pink Rangers was notorious amongst our circle, so much so that I had either had to learn to laugh at it myself, or walk away from my friends all together. Obviously, I chose the first option.
"Well, Kim was a lot longer ago, so I figured that one would be easier," I answered.
"Alright, alright," Jason conceded with one final chuckle. "I'll take Kat and you can have Kim. When do you want to get everyone together?"
"As soon as possible, bro," I said, moving over to my refrigerator to retrieve a water bottle. "I was thinking sometime next week would probably be good."
"Okay then," said Jason. "I'll call everyone and see what we come up with. I'll be in touch."
"Alright, Jase, take care buddy," I said.
"Later, Tommy," Jason replied, both of us disconnecting from the call at that point.
Setting the phone down on the counter, I opened my water and took a long drink. Once again, I felt alone rather quickly. And maybe that was part of why I had been laughing as well; it definitely helped to take away from the pain.
I was resolved to call everyone by tonight, though, and so I hastily scribbled out a list of everyone and where they lived, wanting to make sure I caught the east coast people first. I had no idea how to get in touch with Aisha — who was in the middle of Nowheresville, Africa — but I was hoping Rocky or Kimberly would know how to contact her. Come to think of it, I didn't know how Jason was going to reach Billy, either. As far as I knew, no one had spoken to him since his transmission to the Power Chamber from Aquitar a few years back.
Maybe this was going to be harder than I had anticipated.
Shaking my head, I picked the phone back up and dialed a new number. As I listened to it ring, I checked the digital clock-radio on my nightstand and saw that it was just past eight o'clock; I doubted I would get an answer. Then, after the fifth ring, I was proven wrong.
The line clicked and a soft, groggy female voice muttered, "Better be good."
I allowed myself the faintest of laughs and then quietly replied, "Hey, Kim, it's me."
"Tommy?" she groaned. "It's eleven-fifteen over here. What's going on?"
"I know. I'm really sorry, Kim," I said. "I wouldn't have called so late if it wasn't really important."
"I know," she murmured. For a moment, I simply closed my eyes and allowed myself to remember what it felt like to listen to her. Talking or singing, I had always loved listening to Kimberly. "So what's up?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"
"Um, no, Kim, it's not," I answered, but as I opened my mouth to deliver the news, I found it much harder to say than I had been expecting. It had come out so easy with Jason, but for some reason I just could not bring myself to tell Kimberly.
"Tommy, tell me what's going on," she pressed on; her tone was as demanding as it was concerned. "I know we're not as close as we used to be, but you know you can tell me anything."
"I know," I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to tell her so badly, but again, I could not. This time, though, I became taken with emotion.
I did not understand this at all. It had taken little to no effort to tell Jason what had happened, so why was it so hard to tell Kimberly? Then again, I had not been able to cry with Jason on the line, yet I was suddenly bawling my eyes out with Kimberly listening, probably wondering what kind of crazy person I had turned into since the last time we had spoken.
"Tommy, please —" she whispered. "Just tell me what's happening. Whatever it is, we'll get through it. I promise."
"It-it's not th-that easy, K-Kim," I hiccoughed, somehow managing to press on, "I-it's Z-Zordon. H-he's gone."
I was met with only silence, the most painful, horrible silence I had ever experienced. I felt like the worst person on Earth, having to deliver such awful news. For nearly two minutes, I said nothing, but eventually I felt the need to break the silence between us. Now that she knew the truth, my leadership instinct had kicked back in, and I quickly let go of my own emotion to attend to my teammate.
"Are you there, Kim?"
"I don't believe you," she said, with much more firmness in her voice than I had been expecting.
"I know you don't," I replied softly. "I didn't believe it either when I first heard about it. But it's true. I'm sorry, Kim, I really am."
She sniffled loudly. "How can this be happening, Tommy?" she whimpered. "It — it's Zordon," she added, speaking as though she — just like me, and probably the rest of the other Rangers as well — had believed Zordon to be invincible.
"I know exactly what you mean," I murmured in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.
And from there I moved into the same story that Andros had told me and that I had told to Jason. I forced myself to continue speaking even as she began to cry, my heart aching each time she sobbed into the receiver. At that point in time I would have given up almost anything in the entire world just to be able to take her pain away.
Unfortunately, I could not, and apparently this pain was too much for Kimberly to bear at that moment. I was only halfway through the story when she suddenly cut me off.
"I can't deal with this right now, Tommy. I'm sorry," she half-sobbed. "I'll call you later."
And that was that, the line going dead a second later.
For a brief moment I contemplated calling her back, but then decided against it, understanding that everyone grieved differently and that, for Kimberly, this was her way of grieving. Amongst a myriad of personality quirks, one of the many things that I had learned about Kimberly during our time as a couple was that she would not talk if she did not want to. When she was ready to talk to me, she would call, just like she had said she would.
From there, I spent the next hour or so calling the rest of my former teammates: Adam in Los Angeles — who had suspiciously been with Tanya, though I did not question that at the time; Justin in Angel Grove — who, even though he barely knew Zordon, insisted he wanted to attend any sort of memorial ceremony we had for our fallen mentor; and Rocky in Stone Canyon — who promised he would find a way to get in touch with Aisha, even if it meant scouring the entire continent of Africa himself.
Considering I was now in the possession of my Zeonizer once more, I wasn't above hopping in my Zeo Zord and doing a flyby over Africa myself if it came to it. In this instance, I was sure Zordon would understand my use of the Power for what could have been viewed as "personal gain," something that he had expressly forbidden all his Rangers from doing.
When I had finished with my list of Rangers, I returned the phone to its proper place and then proceeded towards the den at the front of the house, thinking about the nearly half-dozen calls I had just made. There had seemed to be a general consensus of sadness amongst the Rangers — which I had expected — but none more so than with Kimberly — which I was not expecting.
And as I sat down at my computer to email Jason with some of the details I had discussed with the others, I realized why that was.
Kimberly, unlike the rest of us, did not have a particularly good relationship with her parents, specifically her father. While her mother, Caroline, had run off to Paris with a Frenchman named Pierre following her divorce from Kimberly's dad, Ken, it was he, Ken, who had undone their marriage with his frequent roaming into the realm of infidelity.
Zordon — who had always been there for her when her own parents had not or could not — was, at least in Kimberly's eyes, more of a father to her than her own had been.
Again, wishing I could do more while knowing there was nothing that could be done, I finished my email to Jason, sent it on its way, and then was finally able to make my way back to my bedroom. Thanksgiving was tomorrow, after all, and I still had to pack for the trip to Angel Grove. Though I really did not feel much like celebrating anything at all right now, my parents knew nothing of my teenaged exploits as a Power Ranger; thus, it was not like I could simply call them, tell them what had happened, and hope that they understood.
I had sworn an oath to Zordon long ago that my identity as a Power Ranger would remain a secret; active or not, it was a secret I intended on keeping, even if it meant having to spend the next couple of days pretending I was much, much happier than I really was.