(3/7) Notes: Finally, almost 3/4 of the way through, we finally get to the part in the story where I pull out the plot device…I mean, the theme from the movie. Been watching my taped-off-the-air version of it. It's really nice having all the extraneous scenes neatly cut out so that their whole adventure on Phaedos continues without interruption. Now back to your regularly scheduled story.
Wiley was nipping her ankles.
She wondered what had brought her back into the bleak world of consciousness until his teeth closed on her skin, not enough to break it but just enough to pinch and leave a faint tooth mark. Lifting her head, she found him lying beside her foot, mouth poised to bite again. When he caught her watching him, he left off this activity and bounced over to yip and yap in her face.
"Get down," she ordered, "and be quiet!" He complied, at least with the first order, when she stood up. "Is this your way of telling me not to be sad? Because trust me, you'd rather have me be sad than ticked off at you," she warned him, angling her foot as if to kick him. The bossy JRT paid her no mind, and continued to bark. "Or maybe, you just really want food." This last word shut him up as ears shut forward in recognition, and he danced his way eagerly to the kitchen.
She had made it halfway to the canister before she realized what felt so off – it wasn't morning. The moon was nearly full and ghostly bright, but the rays illuminating the shadows of the trees were certainly not from the sun.
"What is wrong with you?" she turned to ask the terrier irritably, and found him now springing into the air beside the front door, all four paws leaving the ground as he leapt and hopped straight up and down like a Jack-Russel-in-the-Box. Suddenly, the combination of nerves and stress and grief were cascading on her head, and she couldn't take being in the house anymore.
"You want to go OUT? Fine! Out!" she cried. She yanked open the door. He barely had time to sally forth before she was running after him, still in her pajamas, all manner of sense temporarily abandoning her as she ran to the stables, startling the whole row of sleepy horses as she entered. Nervous snorts and stamps issued up and down the aisle as she grabbed at Fireside's stall door, but though the dark bay looked surprised to see her, he remained otherwise calm. She pushed a halter over his head and tied on a lead rope for makeshift reins while he stood patiently, wondering what strange new trick she was trying to teach him.
"You ever wanted to go for a midnight ride, boy?" she whispered as she quickly buckled straps and tied knots, opening the door and walking him outside. He flicked an ear back to listen to her, and with a last reassuring pat, she placed one hand on his rump, grasped a fistful of his mane with the other, and with two momentum-gathering hops sprang straight from the ground to his back - quite a feat when she kept most of her weight off her left shoulder, which was not quite back to its full strength or range of mobility. She slipped a little, but then her bare feet found a hold off his knee and she was able to get her other leg over his side. Collecting the rope in her heads, she turned him around, barely stopping to get her bearings before she pointed him away from the barn and slapped his haunches. Instantly, the horse shot forth. The surge of power as his coiled muscles bunched and expanded seemed to release some of her frustration.
Throwing caution to the wind, Kim held tight to his black mane, crouched over his neck as the path opened into a stretch of meadow. She ran him through all of it, slowing his canter to a brisk trot only when they entered the forest, on a path wide enough to let him go at this pace. Not until they drew within sight of the lake did she let him walk, slowing down as they reached its shores and the swing and the familiar little cove. Only then did she slip noiselessly from his back, automatically pulling the reins over his head as, shaking, she collapsed on the ground against a tree, knees drawn into her chest, sucking air in deep, gasping breaths as if she were the one who had just run all this way. Fireside huffed and stretched to the edge of his lead, looking for bits of grass. It took very little to restore his mood.
She didn't know how long she sat there, mind swirling with grief and futility and elusive, shadowy thoughts just beyond her reach - thoughts of birds and light and magic, beyond where her prayers had taken her, until at last she whispered, "The animal spirits. They saved Zordon once; if they could only save him…I know I am no longer a ranger, but I need them, if only; I need your help, somehow, please…" She was chanting without realizing it, her eyes closed, repeating the words over and over again.
And as she knelt there in the dirt, she slowly felt the dancing lights return, remembered how, years ago, the creature had first been drawn from her heart. Without realizing it, she got to her feet, palms raised almost reverently, until her eyes snapped open and she breathed in sharply. The beautiful crane was again in all its glory, its essence proudly drifting around her, suddenly there in a medal on a chain around her neck. Something she could only describe as grace set within her, and tears of sorrow melted away.
"Thank you," was all she could manage. "Thank you…my friends." She kissed the bronze engraving. And in the distance, she heard a falcon scream.
Once again, Kimberly entered the all-too-familiar hospital zone, later than usual, so that an unfamiliar face at the reception desk greeted her. "Visiting hours end in thirty minutes," the heavyset blonde informed her, and Kim nodded. I'm not just here for a visit, she thought as she entered the elevator, touching the metal in her pocket. With its customary ding, the doors slid open on the proper floor and she turned a corner, heading as ever towards room 323.
She pushed open the door, now so used to the machines and wires that she barely even noticed them. Quietly, she pulled her chair up beside the bed, tenderly pushing aside a piece of hair that had fallen over his face, and withdrew the medallion. Its smooth surface gleamed coldly from her palm. Her heartbeat accelerated in anticipation.
"Remember its power, Tommy? You remembered it and believed in it when the rest of us had given him up for lost. I know it's been a long time since either of us was part of the team…but I called the crane, and she came. I know it's only one from the group, but I hope…" she stopped suddenly, irrationally fearing that if she spoke any more, the miracle would not occur. Realizing she had no idea how to bring it about anyway, she somewhat awkwardly set it on the bed and covered it with his hand. Nothing happened, but it lay there with such promise that Kim was certain it would only take a minute or two to kick in.
While she waited she gave him updates on the farm, telling him all about how quickly the mischievous little raccoons were growing, and how cleverly sweet Shasta had been the other morning.
"You're not going to believe what she did," she informed Tommy. "I know you've said she loves pancakes, but I had no idea she loved them more than chews.
"I, foolishly, thought that if I made just a small batch of pancakes, I could get away with eating them uninterrupted. Of course that didn't happen; they weren't even done cooking before Shasta was at my feet, whining and desperately half-rearing on her haunches, as though she would positively collapse and expire right then and there if she did not receive pancake sustenance. So I gave her a rawhide bone - which as far as I knew was her favorite edible item in the entire world - to distract her. She wagged her tail and ran off with it.
"Three minutes later, I kid you not, something bumps my leg. I look down, and Shasta is back. She very deliberately drops the chew in my lap, backs up, sits down, and looks at my plate expectantly. Can you believe that? Your dog wants to trade! She is almost too ridiculously smart for her own good." Kim smiled at the memory, searching for more stories, ending with the tale of the encounter in the woods. Yet not once did the crane give a sign of its presence, not even when the visiting hours officially ended. Though she pushed the time limit, she was finally asked, politely of course, to let the nurses get on with their rounds. Crushed, she slipped the unresponsive medallion back into her pocket unseen.
Having barely had the energy to care for her animals, Kimberly was soon sitting on the living room loveseat, Ned purring saucily in her lap and Gibbs leaning against her leg. She was thinking about the medal again, trying to understand why, even if she couldn't see how, it had come to her. Maybe she hadn't been good enough for it to help her help him, and she grew discouraged for a moment…but then there was that quiet, reassuring voice still echoing in her head, pledging faith in her, refusing to let her admit defeat. She would simply try again.
In the still room of the hospital, had one been watching, they might have seen the great white crane fly past the window, its wings huge and yet still graceful as it soared through the air. They might have noticed a hook-beaked bird swooping into the cover of the forest. And they would, perhaps, have seen the white owl waiting quietly in the tree, deep-set black eyes luminous and unblinking. But no one was watching, and the silent vigil went on.