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I Gotta Get a Message by Jennifer Campbell written by the Bee Gees Well the preacher turned to me and he smiled I told him "I'm in no hurry, I've just gotta get a message to you: (Swing it) I've just gotta get a message to you: Well I laughed, but that didn't hurt I've just gotta get a message to you: (repeat chorus) =============================== As Joxer looked across the valley, he realized he did not feel so mighty, after all. He squinted against the setting sun and was barely able to see the grave marker standing alone in the distance, with only the long grasses and animals to keep it company. That marker made him feel small and helpless, like a child -- not at all like the great warrior he claimed to be. A little farther away, he could see a dark temple rise up like a scar against the beautiful, peaceful valley. Appropriate, he thought, that the old man would choose to be buried within sight of Hades' temple. Dear old Dad had shared a close relationship with the God of the Dead for all his life. He felt a hand gently touch his arm, and Joxer turned to smile at the the slight, young woman at his side. She looked worriedly at him and squeezed his shoulder. "Joxer, are you OK? You don't have to do this." Joxer straightened and nodded. "Thanks, sis, but I do have to do this. I have to visit him this once." She nodded. "All right, then. Let's do it." They reached the grave just as the sun vanished behind the horizon and the first stars peeked out against the night sky. A cold wind swept across the valley, bending the tall grass and chilling Joxer to his bones. He lightly ran his fingertips across the top of the stone marker, and he bent to read the inscription: "Here lies the warlord Jesten. Better than he deserved." Joxer glanced back at his sister. "Who wrote this, Jasmine?" A smile tugged at her mouth. "Jace. He never did like the old coot." Joxer nodded and turned back to the marker. He knelt by it and ran his hands softly over the dirt. "I know we didn't get along, Dad, but I've tried to be the best warrior I can be," he said softly. "I hope that's enough to satisfy you." In the silence that followed, Joxer thought he heard soft laughter floating with the wind as it rustled through the grass. Just like Dad, he thought. Never satisfied with anything. No matter what I do, I'll never be the son he wished for. He sensed rather than saw Jasmine move close and gracefully sit behind him. She rubbed his tense shoulders in silence. "I wish Gabrielle and Xena could be here," Joxer said. "I wish Caesar hadn't killed them. I miss them so much." "Tell me about them," Jasmine said quietly. "Tell me about Gabrielle." Joxer smiled. "Gabrielle. She was ... oh, I don't know. She was amazing. I don't think there are words good enough to describe her." "Try. Please, brother." "Well," Joxer said softly, "she was kind, generous, beautiful. And she was very talented. She was a bard, and her stories were wonderful. She wrote about me, you know. Well, mostly she wrote about Xena. ... Actually, she only wrote about Xena. If I showed up in her scolls, it was on accident. Xena this, Xena that. Always Xena." Jasmine laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous." Joxer turned to face her. "Jealous? Of Xena? Never. I just wish, sometimes, that Gabrielle would have ..." His voice trailed off and he looked across the valley in thought. "... loved you?" Jasmine finished. "Is that it, Joxer? You wish she had loved you like you still love her?" "Is it that obvious?" he asked, blushing. "It is to me," she answered. "You should tell her how you feel." "How can I do that?" Joxer muttered. "She's dead. It's too late." "It's never too late," Jasmine said. "The dead can hear our thoughts." Joxer smiled sadly and laced his fingers with Jasmine's. "I love you, too, sis." "I know," she replied, squeezing his hand. "I love you, big brother." Joxer looked into the clear sky and sighed. It seemed that life had spun out of his control long ago, like he was an unwitting puppet for an unknown master and he did not know how to cut his strings. Xena and Gabrielle had died. His father had died. Too much was changing too fast. "Jasmine," he asked, "do you ever feel like you have no control over your life? Like there's never any peace?" "I used to," she said. "But I found my peace." "How?" She laughed softly. "Joxer, everyone must find their own path. I cannot tell you how to calm your soul. You must do that on your own." They sat in silence for a few more minutes, until the last hints of light vanished from the sky. Then Joxer stood, dusted off his pants and smiled at Jasmine. "All right. I'm ready to go now." As they walked back toward the faint lights of Corinth, Joxer heard the perfect silence violated by the snapping of a twig. He froze and held out a hand to stop Jasmine. "What is it?" she asked. "Quiet. I think I heard something." A few seconds later, Joxer heard the distinctive sound of a blade hissing out of its scabbard. He frantically looked around them as he quietly drew his own sword, but he saw nothing. Jasmine drew a dagger from her belt and glanced warily at her brother. "Who's there?" Joxer yelled. "Lay down your weapons," boomed a deep voice, "and maybe I'll let you live." Joxer trembled and licked his dry lips. "What do you want?" "Your money, your weapons, your clothes," answered the voice. "Perhaps I'll even take that girl. She'll fetch a good price in the slave markets." "To get to Jasmine, you'll have to go through me," Joxer yelled. He turned around, looking in vain for their opponent. "That can be arranged." Then Joxer saw it: The dull glint of moonlight against a blade. He raised his sword just in time to block the attacker's first strike. He fell back under the strength of the blow, tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground. A dark figure blocked the moon as it loomed over him with sword raised. "You are a fool," the attacker said. "And now you are a dead fool." He thrust down with the point of his sword, which buried itself in Joxer's side. At the same time, Joxer, with his last bit of strength, thrust upward and ran his sword through his attacker's chest. Jasmine screamed. The attacker collapsed forward on Joxer's blade and landed on top of him, splattering blood all over the ground. Joxer passed out from pain and shock as Jasmine tried desperately to lift the dead man's body off of him. =============================== Joxer awoke with a dreadful headache and an even worse pain in his side. He tried to sit up, but gentle hands restrained him, forcing him to lie back against his hard bed. A quick glance around him confirmed that this place was unfamiliar, and somewhat scary. All the furnishings were painted black, and the floors and ceiling were made of black marble. The only light seemed to originate with a bonfire in the center of the room, and even though Joxer could feel its heat, he still felt cold. He tried to sit up again and once again was pushed down. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. "You're in the temple of Hades," answered a soft, calm voice. "Hades? What am I doing here? What happened?" "Your sister brought you here two days ago," the voice answered. "We have cared for you since then, but your wound is grave." Joxer twisted to see the person he spoke with, but the movement shot pain through his side, and he cried out. "Do not move, or you will injure youself further," the voice said. "I want to see you," Joxer muttered. "None may see the servants of Death." "So, you're a priest of Hades?" "Yes." "Oh," Joxer said. "So, um, now what?" "I have spoken with Hades about you." Joxer closed his eyes. "And?" "He has told me that your future is clouded, but soon, you might be in his land." Joxer trembled, but even that slight movement aggravated his wound. "So, I'm going to die?" he choked out. "Perhaps." Joxer felt a tear trail from his eye and down the side of his face, but he did not wipe it away. How would he fulfill his destiny as a mighty warrior, saving people who needed his help, if he were dead? It wasn't supposed to end like this. But there was something else, too. Something important. "Jasmine," he whispered. "My sister. Where is she?" "She has held vigil outside our temple since she brought you here. She is there now." "Can I see her?" "Only the dying may enter the house of Hades. You may not see her." Another tear trailed down his cheek. "I don't want to die alone." "Sleep now." Joxer felt a cold hand slide over his eyes, and he couldn't help himself from falling, falling, falling into oblivion. =============================== Joxer was walking through a thick mist, in a forest. He could vaguely see the trunks of trees, but there was no movement. No leaves rustled. No squirrels scampered across the branches high above. Only he lived here; he was alone. Out of the mist, not far ahead, stood a solitary figure in a brown robe, his head cast into shadow by a deep hood. As Joxer approached the man, he raised one hand in greeting. "Hail, Joxer," the man said. "Am I dead?" Joxer asked. Joxer thought that under the hood, the man was smiling. "Not yet," he said. "Come and walk with me. Come and walk one more mile." Joxer fell in beside the priest -- for he decided this man must be a priest of some sort -- and they walked. Joxer looked over at his silent companion. "What is this all about?" he asked. "Patience, Joxer," the priest said. "You will understand soon." They walked and walked until Joxer thought they must have walked for several days. Then the forest ended and opened up into a wide valley, and although the fog stretched on as thick as before, Joxer could somehow see across the grass to where the forest began again on the other side. The priest stopped, and Joxer stopped with him. "Your answers lie ahead of you," the priest said, "but I cannot come with you. This is a task you must face alone. And you must hurry. You have little time left." "I am in no hurry to die," Joxer answered. He licked his lips and tried to see inside the priest's hood, but he could see only darkness. "Are you a priest of Hades?" "I am," the priest answered. "Are you the same priest as in the temple?" "I am your guide on this dark journey." Joxer swallowed hard. "Um, could you do something for me, just in case? Could you tell my sister I'm sorry? If I broke her heart, then please tell her I'm sorry." "Tell her yourself." The priest pointed toward the valley, and Joxer followed his direction to a solitary figure standing in the grass. She looked up at him, and Joxer sobbed in relief. "Jasmine!" he yelled, and he ran across the valley and into her embrace. He cried in her arms, soaking her cheek with his tears. "Jasmine, I'm so sorry. I'm so very, very sorry." "Don't be sorry," she said. "You are the hero you always wanted to be. I'm proud of you, my brother. My Joxer. You are a mighty warrior." "I don't want to die," he whispered. "I'm scared, Jasmine." She pulled away from him and wiped the tears from his face. "Walk with me," she said. "There is someone you must meet." So he walked again, with his sister by his side, and he held her hand tightly as if she were his only anchor to the living world. Joxer wanted the walk never to end, but when he saw another dark figure appear in the mist, he knew their time together was almost through. As they drew closer, Joxer saw that the figure held a bloody sword in one hand and clutched at a wound in his chest with the other. Oh, gods preserve me, Joxer thought. This is the man I killed. He's come for his last revenge. Joxer wanted to run away, but he held tight to Jasmine's hand and walked forward with as brave an expression as he could muster. If this were to be his fate, to die at the hands of this man, he would face his destiny as a warrior and not a coward. They stopped before the man, and Joxer nodded formally. The man, whose face still seemed obscured in darkness, nodded back. "Hail, Joxer," the man said. "Hail, my son." The man stepped into the light, and Joxer saw his father's face. He began to tremble. "Father," he said, his voice wavering. "You're already dead and gone." Jesten scowled. "I am now, at your blade. I never thought I'd see the day when you would stand and die as a warrior, and I certainly did not think you would take me with you." "How is it possible?" Joxer asked. "Jasmine, did you know he wasn't dead?" "No, I did not," she answered. "Why, Dad? Why did you attack us?" "The priests of Hades told me my time had come, but they gave me the choice of how to go. I chose to fake my death, to trick you into coming home, and then to bring you with me to the other side. I did not want to die alone." "Why me?" Joxer asked. "Of all my children, you are my favorite," he said, smiling coldly. "Jett is too much like me. Jasmine is too sweet. And Jace is ... well, Jace is Jace. But you are good man with a brave heart. You are the man I always wished I had been." Joxer shook his head in disbelief. "If you believe that, then let me live. Let me use that goodness to help the living. Please, Dad." "I cannot change what I have done," Jesten answered. He held out his hand. "Come, son. Our time here is through, but we can spend eternity together." Joxer backed away, fear lighting in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." Joxer turned to leave, but a soft touch on his shoulder stopped his retreat. Jasmine wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Joxer. I will always love you. But there is someone waiting for you who loves you even more. Look." She pointed, and Joxer saw a cave entrance at the edge of the valley. Standing in the entrance, with her blonde hair hanging long and beautiful down her back, stood Gabrielle. Joxer looked back and forth between Jasmine, his last link to the living world, and Gabrielle, the woman with whom he wanted to spend eternity. They both smiled at him. "Gabrielle," he murmured. "The time has come, brother, to choose your path," Jasmine whispered in his ear. "M-my path?" "Yes," she continued. "You have three options, but choose wisely, for your decision will set your course for eternity." She slowly walked around to face him, but Joxer could not meet her intense eyes. He found himself looking elsewhere, and his gaze returned again and again to the vision of Gabrielle standing silent at the cave entrance. "You can go with her, brother," Jasmine said. "Take her hand, and you will spend eternity in the Elysian Fields at her side. Or," she said, pointing at their father, "you can go with him, the father you never knew. "Or you can take my hand and return to the living world. I warn you, there will be much pain along this course, and you still may die from the wound you have suffered. But only there might you find the peace you seek." Joxer looked between the three, suddenly realizing that this choice was some sort of test, the purpose of which he did not understand. Choosing Gabrielle would be the easy, simple way out. Choosing Dad would prove a mistake. And choosing life, pain and perhaps more death -- that option scared him so much he could hardly look his sister in the eye. If she really were his sister, he thought. He remembered their night together by Dad's empty grave, when she had said he had to find his own path to peace. Could this be his chance? "Make your decision, Joxer," Jasmine ordered, her tone more commanding than any Joxer could ever remember coming from her lips. Very well, he thought. I can play this game. He turned away from his father without a second thought. He looked regretfully at Gabrielle and whispered a quiet goodbye. Then, Joxer looked bravely into the eyes of his sister and firmly took her hand. She smiled. "You made the right choice." Then the world turned upside down and vanished. =============================== Joxer jerked up with a yelp, and cool hands pushed him back down. He looked around. He was back in the temple of Hades, back in his bed as though nothing had happened. Had it been a dream? He knew only one way to find out. "Priest?" he asked. "Yes," answered the voice behind him. "The man I killed. Do you know who he was?" "Yes." "Please, tell me, was he my father?" "He was. And had you taken his hand, you would have joined him forever, burning in Tartarus." Joxer breathed out slowly. "So, it wasn't a dream." "The answer to that question, you will never know." Joxer twisted slightly and felt a twinge in his side, still bloody from the wound inflicted by his father. He touched his side lightly and winced at the pain, but it hurt less than before. It wasn't so bad, really. Certainly not a reason to die. And in that moment, Joxer the Mighty made his decision that no priest or god or anyone would determine his destiny. They could not, and they never had. He realized that only one person in all of creation could decide what would happen to him. "Priest?" he asked. "Yes?" "Will you take a message to my sister?" "What do you wish to tell her?" "Tell her I have found my peace. Tell her ... I choose my own path, and I choose to live." the end |