5. In the wilderness and back again.

[xiphias]

5. In the wilderness and back again.

The gecko stared at Sarah. "Well, certainly, I understand your grief, but are you certain that wandering out here in the desert is the best way to deal with it? After all,

'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
To give these mourning duties to your father;
But you must know, your father lost a father;
That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever
In obstinate condolement is a course
Of impious stubbornness."

Sarah might have laughed at that, but laughing would have made her chapped lips start bleeding again. "Are you certain that that's the proof-text you want to use? Claudius had murdered Hamlet's father. I don't think that Claudius is an unbiased source here."

"Still," the lizard went on, "it didn't work out too well for Hamlet, did it? Hamlet isn't a very good role model for you, either."

"I wonder about that," Sarah said. "I wonder whether Hamlet was mad. And, I suppose, by analogy, I wonder whether I, myself, have gone mad."

The lizard flicked its tongue. "I don't feel it's my place to offer an opinion to that issue. Nonetheless, I feel obligated to point out that you're talking to a gecko."

The lizard spun around and went back into the crack in the rock. He'd been doing that every time the buzzard swooped lower, and Sarah thought it very rude of the buzzard to keep interrupting their conversation that way. Still, it gave her a chance to ponder what the lizard had been saying. She looked down at the silver star she was carrying. The edges of it were crusted in dried blood from the burst blisters on her hand, and she suspected that her fingers wouldn't unclench from around it, even if she'd wanted to try. But it meant something. And that's what she was trying to figure out.

While it was true that her grief was three times as great as that of her brothers', they had also encountered that first part, the death of their father. And they had found some reason to go on. They sought justice, not revenge, and they sought it as Rangers. This star was a symbol of what it was that caused them to continue, even in their grief. Could it do the same for her? If her grief was three times theirs, it stood to reason that she would simply have to hold to that symbol three times as strongly as they did.

She pondered further. There had been, of course, two of them, so three times as strong, by two brothers, meant six times the commitment. And that was how many men there were in the Ranger unit! So, clearly, she would have to be, by herself, not merely a Ranger, but an entire Ranger unit, on her own. Could a lone Ranger do as much as an entire Ranger unit? Clearly, it was her duty to find out.

Yes, she thought, the lizard was right. She did have a duty to fulfill, the duty of her brothers, and their unit. If they couldn't do it, she had to take up their mantle. She stood up to go home.

And that's when she realized the error in her plan, as she simply didn't move. Her legs wouldn't obey her. She blinked, and the world spun around and her eyes closed. The problem was that, now that she had a reason to live, she no longer had the strength to do so. Without some sort of miracle, her new-found purpose would die here with her. Still, she thought as she sank into unconsciousness, dying with a purpose, even an unfulfilled one, was much better than dying without one.

It was freezing cold when she opened them again, and the sky was dark. She hadn't, truly, expected to ever wake again, at least not until Judgment Day, and it took her a moment to figure out what had wakened her. It was an animal moving around behind her.

"If you are a coyote, I'm afraid that there is a buzzard who has a prior claim," she would have said, had her voice worked. Instead, she merely managed a small croak, and the animal came around into her field of view.

Sarah prided herself on the accuracy of her observation, and she felt that simply because she was dying, and, in fact, most of the way to dead, was no excuse for sloppiness in this regard. She'd worked with horses all her life, and so she wanted to be careful to appraise this one accurately. Could it simply be her weakened state that was interfering with her judgment, or was this horse actually the most magnificent animal she'd ever seen?

She felt sorry that she'd most likely be dead by morning, because she wanted to see his coat by daylight. By moonlight, the stallion's coat appeared to be pure white. He looked to be about sixteen hands high, and had lines like a Lipizzaner or Andalusian.

He walked around her, and nosed at her curiously. Sarah was surprised to see that he was unshod. "Really?" she tried to say. "You're a mustang?" Again, a tiny groan was the only sound that came out.
The horse seemed to make a decision. He began nudging her with his head, and she somehow managed to get an arm around his neck. He effortlessly pulled her to her feet, and she clambered onto his back. She wasn't riding him – she was merely draped over him like a blanket. And they were moving somehow.

After some period of time, the horse stopped, and bent his head. Sarah rolled off, and twitched in shock as her hand splashed in cold water. The horse had brought her to a spring, and she carefully took a small sip of water.

Her stomach protested, and she retched, and she took another small sip. The horse also drank carefully, and after a long time, Sarah realized that she might live until morning.

"If she doesn't come back today, I'm going out there to look for her, or at least for her body," Tomas said. As the Cavendish gang still held their ranch, Tomas and Ramona were at the Reid's farm. The farm still had chores that had to be done, and they had no other place to stay.

Ramona nodded. "I suppose you're right. By now, she's either found a reason to live, or she's died."
Tomas suddenly rushed to the window. "What was that? It sounded like the hoof-beats of an unshod horse: what would a mustang be doing this near a ranch?"

Ramona was closer to the door, and got outside first. "Tomas – you'd better come here. You're better with wild horses than I am."

Sarah was semi-conscious, on the back of the white horse. The horse looked uncertainly around – cautious, but not frightened.

Tomas approached carefully, and reached out his good arm to Sarah. She collapsed to the ground, and Ramona and Tomas carried her inside. The horse shied away slightly, but came back quickly. He seemed more curious than nervous, and started walking around the yard as the humans went in.

Sarah was a mass of blistered sunburns. The parts of her clothing that weren't shredded away were glued to her chapped and peeled skin.

"Tomas! Get me a pair of sewing scissors, then find the Reid's bathtub and fill it."

Sarah spent perhaps a week in a delirious haze. She had vague memories of drinking water, and broth, and of talking, but she couldn't remember what exactly she said, or, for that matter, whether she was really forming words at all. And then, one day, she woke up.

"Good. You're awake," Ramona greeted her briskly. "First, your brother's star is on the table next to you. It took some doing to get it out of your hand, and you will certainly have scars from its points, where you were clenching it. Second, you've had two visitors. That stallion hasn't left. He doesn't let the rest of us get too close to him, but he's been looking in the window of your sick room every few hours. And second, a friend of yours from Boston."

As if on cue, a tall black man walked in. He had shoulders like a blacksmith, and a pleasant, intelligent face.

Sarah discovered that smiling still rather hurt her face. It was worth it, though. "Abraham Lincoln Gambrell. What are you doing here?"

"Howdy, Miss Reid. When I heard that your father had died and you were going home, I decided to see if I could be any help. I'd been thinking of moving out West after school, anyway – this is where the mines are. Besides, Boston is a wonderful city, but people there are still a little wary of hiring a black engineer."

"Of course – I should have thought of that. You finished Massachusetts Tech at the same time I finished Wellesley."

"With honors, even. And degrees in mining engineering, mechanical engineering, and metallurgy. Honestly, my experience as a blacksmith rather helped. I had more practical experience with the concepts than many of my classmates."

"I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you, Linc," Sarah said.

"I'm glad, Sarah. I was hoping to see you again after graduation."

"All right, that's enough chatter for now," Ramona broke in. "Sarah, we're going to get you dressed, and up and walking. You've spent enough time abed – it's time to start using your muscles again."

This process was far more painful than Sarah expected, but, over the next couple days, she improved rapidly. As did everyone else. Ramona was completely healed, and Tomas was getting impatient to remove the splint from his arm. Whenever she walked outside, the stallion approached her, and followed her around with an attentive air. She'd never heard of a horse adopting a human before, but it was clear that this white horse had decided that the two of them belonged together. In fact, he allowed her to saddle him, and she began to ride him daily.

Sarah did a lot of thinking, and, one day as they sat down to their noonday dinner, she spoke up.

"My father taught my brothers and me to try to work for justice and a better world. I'm the only one left. I feel that I have to continue that work."

Linc smiled. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I have something for you." He stood up and walked out of the room.

Sarah wrinkled her brow in surprise and confusion.

Ramona saw her expression and said, "We thought you'd make that decision. You talked about it constantly when you were delirious. So we made you something."

Linc came back, and placed a pearl-handled Colt .45 Peacemaker on the table in front of her. Along with a handful of shining bullets.

"What's this?"

"Ramona and Tomas told me about what you said before you went into the desert – about how wrong it was that people could be killed with lead. Ramona and I took the silver that we had from their mine, and cast these silver bullets. I then modified this pistol to handle the different weight."

Ramona went over to a drawer in a chest at the side of the room. "I have these for you – John and Dan's spare uniforms. I adjusted the tailoring to fit you – it didn't take much; you are almost exactly the same size as your brothers were." She placed trousers, shirts, bandanas, vests, and hats next to the pistol. "Also, this." She took the star that Sarah had clenched through her ordeal in the desert, and put it on top of the pile. It had been polished to a bright shine, but, if you looked carefully, you could still see the slight discolorations on the points where it had dug into her hands.

"And this is from me," Tomas said. "You may find it useful to conceal your identity, and pose as a man. People might not take a woman as seriously." He placed a leather mask on the table.

Sarah looked up at her friends, through tears. "I don't know what to say. You know me better than I know myself."

Linc smiled. "Obviously, the first thing we're going to have to do is to get the Silverheels' farm back from Cavendish. Once that's done, I'll be able to get as much silver as we're going to need to finance your fight against evil."

Ramona said, "Nobody can be truly alone. Even if you're going to attempt to be a lone Ranger, fighting your brothers' fight, you will need us to give you a headquarters, and support."

Tomas said, "And you won't be alone."

Ramona looked at him.

"I've been thinking. I'm going with you. Linc and Ramona will be plenty to hold down the fort. I'm going to traveling with you, on the front lines."

Ramona shook her head. "You're my only family. I can't risk you."

"No," Tomas said. "Father and Grandfather thought that we could protect ourselves by retreating from society, and making a place of our own. But they were killed, and we have been driven from our home. The only true safety is in creating a society of law and justice, where we ALL can be safe. The risk is in staying behind. Sarah and I will go out into the world, and fight for justice and right. Only THAT will make us safe."

Ramona smiled sadly. "Tú eres tonto," she muttered. But her voice was filled with love and admiration.

Tomas said, "Well, if I'm going to be dumb, what better cause is there?" He turned to Sarah. "So, you hear that? Apparently, I am tonto. So that's who I'll be. I'm Tonto, and you can be my sidekick, the Lone Ranger."

Sarah laughed. "Well, okay, Tonto. But I'm not going to be a sidekick. I'll be your partner, instead."

"And what about your horse? I don't think that horse will let us leave him behind. He'll need a name, too."

Sarah looked at the table. "I think his name ought to be obvious," she said, and held up the handful of silver bullets.

Comments

[janetmiles.livejournal.com]

Wonderful!

[undauntra.livejournal.com]

I'm cackling madly here. But I think your choice to publish it in five parts on LJ a poor one for getting readers. In order to refer anyone else to this, I need to not only publish five different links, but also to include a much more emphatic "No, really. Keep going until the end" because you've provided four breakpoints for someone to decide that they clearly don't know the canon and quit.

[xiphias.livejournal.com]

Oh, I hadn't thought about getting readers. I had only thought about writing it.

I also had hoped to not have people worry about the canon, since I didn't think I even made it clear what canon it WAS until the last chapter. I mean, unless you already knew the canon, in which case it was obvious.

[xiphias.livejournal.com]

Do you think I ought to concatenate them and make an all-in-one post?