The River Ranch

Believe

"Why am I always the person that has to walk the distance to put the cans back on the rock wall?" Patricia whined to Arlo and Savannah.

Savannah grinned as she reloaded the .22 pistol. "It's what you're good at, Sis." She replied with a laugh in her voice.

Arlo chuckled under his breath at his sister's squabble and reloaded his side arm. Patricia hated guns but she knew how to shoot. All of the River kids did. They were raised in Texas and by a Texas Ranger. It was in their blood to pack a weapon and know how to operate it, although that was the plan to carry out until death designed by their dad, Patty quit carrying and practicing six years ago soon after her son was born - her aim had worsened.

Arlo looked up at Patty and saw her put each can, jug and bottle they found around the place to shoot at. She swung around unexpectedly with the firearm up midway and POW. Arlo heard the shot ring out and was surprised she hadn't unloaded it before then. He opened his mouth to give her a cussing for not putting the safety on, and instead of words coming out, a loud grunt and gargle did. He felt the pain in his lower abdomen on the right hand side and looked down at the pale blue shirt he wore, an ugly circle of blood formed in a circle and he held the spot with his hand, and collapsed.

Savannah screamed and Patricia dropped the gun to the ground. She covered her forehead, eyes wide in panic, and whispering. "I didn't mean to." Over and over again. Savannah yelled at her to call 911 and to shut up as she applied pressure on the wound. She lifted Arlo's head and placed it in lap. "Stay with me, Arlo."

He could see his baby sister cradling his head and her lips moving but he couldn't hear her words. The light of the day began to drift into the darkness. She slapped his cheek and he grunted but the force and weight of unconsciousness had won.

Arlo stood in a black deep abyss of nothing. Somehow, a light shone to see a small radius around him of pale yellow light reflecting off of the charcoal floor. He didn't know where the heck he was at or what was going on. If this was death or heaven, or even hell, what would a person do? There was nothing but darkness past the circle of light. He looked up and more blackness greeted him. No light bulb, no sun or stars, nothing, and he couldn't explain it.

He looked forward and thought to take a step before he saw a figure form into the shape of a man.  "You're in a dream state, Arlo. You're safe here." Arlo recognized the voice immediately. Morpheus. Better known as Morph. The Dream God. Arlo started to speak when on the left side of the void an image of a green pasture, the rock wall made of stones his grandfather Joel built around his cabin appeared and on top of it stood a man he didn't know.

Arlo's eyes widened suddenly at the spread of wings from the man's back. The sun was shining down on his frame and it seemed like the sun radiated off of each feather of each wing. They glistened in the sunlight or the sunlight glistened touching the wings, Arlo wasn't sure which. He knew without being told that he was looking at an angel. His mother spoke of them frequently.

"Morpheus." That angel spoke loud and clear.
"Micah." The Dream God replied in greeting.

"Heal yourself, Arlo." The angel spoke again.

"What? How? I can't," said Arlo. Heal himself from what? He couldn't remember. "I'm fine."

Morpheus' head turned into a tree with his eyes still shining. Arlo stepped back out of surprise, it was the first time he saw Morpheus, well morph, into anything. Just as quickly as the tree sprouted his normal head came back. "You were shot in the abdomen." He points and Arlo looks down to see the stained shirt. Oh, yeah. Now, he remembers.

"Am I dead?"

"Soon you will be. You must heal yourself." The angel on the rock boomed his voice on the word yourself. Either that or Morph's dream-like state needed a volume adjustment.

"I don't know if I can. I can heal others but I don't think I can heal myself."

"You can."

Arlo looked from the angel to Morph in disbelief. 'Hurry, Arlo." Morph encouraged him. "Time is running out and this dream realm will crumble. Save yourself."

Arlo placed his hand on the wound and focused hard. The sunny day image of the Angel blinked rapidly and Arlo looked over at him. Micah raised his chin in assurance. The blinking continued and Arlo registered that his eyes were blinking open as he began to awaken.

Savannah had tears streaming down her face and Patty was there, too. Her hands were bloody from holding the wound and Arlo's hand shook as he removed his sister's hands. He placed his hand on his stomach and focused. His eyelids closed again and he saw Morph and Micah both staring him down. It was an uneasy feeling going back and forth from reality to whatever Morph had put him in. He had to clear his mind but the pain was crippling and sweat in the dream- like state began to drip into his eyes.

"Wake up!" He felt his sister's hand on his cheek and patted it a little too hard. His eyes snapped open and he focused on healing himself. A white light of a glow began to form, he felt the heat of it, and raised his head to see it happening. He chuckled in bemusement as the wound began to close.

"Oh my God!" Patricia exclaimed. "I didn't know you could do that. I'm so glad!"

His eyes on Patty as the wound steadily closed and all of the damage was repaired. He half wondered if she was really glad and then scolded himself for having those thoughts but, deep down he knew how she felt about him.

He sat up and just sat there for a while looking at the rock wall. He could see Micah on it and he saw his wings rise and fall, in a split second the Angel had flown away. He assumed. He was no longer there or was he ever there? Arlo wasn't sure but he was sure of one thing. The paramedics had no reason to come to help him. He had saved himself.