An Evening at Joe's (13 page)

Sun Tzu acted to use this opportunity to pour his wisdom of warfare into my newly constructed chassis. We began training earnestly in the methods of physical technique necessary to accompany my development into a philosopher-warrior. He demonstrated the necessity of balance between my soul and mind, in order to avoid the trap of arrogance. I discovered how to win without fighting. He instructed me in the art of strategy and endurance of the mind, to assist me in the judicious use of my strengths. Our new guardian/groundskeeper Wang Xi allowed us to know that he was trained in the fighting style of his native region, and he generously taught me several new techniques.

And so I began the next phase of my life. Sun Tzu had been hinting at a new level of progression that I needed to ascend, without elaborating any further at that time. Now he did. He told me that I had been a good and worthy student of all that he had taught me, but the time had come for me to return to the world and apply that which I had absorbed. He assured me that I was welcome to return to him for more instruction as I felt the need, but he was of the opinion that I was unlikely to do so in the near future. I had learned a great deal while living in that refuge with him, but he was concerned that I had lost touch with my social abilities among ordinary people. He intended to do the very same thing himself, he said, returning to his home province in order to renew his contact with the perspective of ordinary people, as well as to confirm the sights and sounds of his own beginnings. I argued that I had much more to learn from him before I would be ready to go forth again, but my complaints fell upon deaf ears. The date of my departure was set in stone at two weeks hence, in order that I might prepare myself mentally for the challenges ahead. That time was to be spent in contemplation of all that I had observed while in this retreat, and how it might he best applied to my future actions.

My heart was heavy with regret when the moment came for me to go. I changed into a suit of clothing that Sun Tzu had obtained for me, which he said was contemporary dress for the period that I was rejoining. He asked me to make my way alone from the temple I had called home for 126 years, and so, on the morning of the proscribed date, I walked down the mountain to meet my future. I was 2271 years old and felt like a newborn lamb that was being led in from the wilderness as I began my expedition to rejoin civilisation. I headed for the city of Rome, familiar ground upon which I could begin again.

"RICHIE RYAN": Stan Kirsch

No character on
Highlander: The Series
experienced more change and growth over the course of the series than Richie Ryan. The first character we see in the very first scene of the first episode, Richie is a defining force throughout the series as he learns the lessons of the Immortal Game, first as an observer; then as a participant.

Actor Stan Kirsch, too, was there from the start to the finish, one of a very small number of cast or crew to be a part of all six seasons of Highlander. For a surprising perspective on Richie's past, present, and future, Stan gives us his voice, "From the Grave."

October, 1999

I've been safely tucked away in the afterlife for several years now. Fortunately, I've managed to make excellent use of the time. I've immersed myself in books, absorbing literature and art, educating and enriching myself in ways I never had the occasion to before. After all, a brief life spent watching one's back, attacking and defending, constantly sheathed in a protective shell, doesn't leave much opportunity for inspiration or reflection.

I'm aware that my sudden and unpremeditated decapitation at the hands of my illustrious mentor was not his intention. Ironically, however, it was MacLeod who introduced me to the notion that "there can be only one." Alas, it was not me. Who was I kidding to think it might be? I'm sure MacLeod grieved. He is not a man without feeling. Nevertheless, he has taken many lives and seen many loved ones die. I'm certain he will move on.

I lost great friends whom I miss dearly and have yearned for the chance to bid them farewell. Recently I befriended a messenger at the gates of Saint Peter, and it seems he will do me the favor of relaying a single correspondence to a few of my cohorts on earth. I have decided to take him up on his offer and put words to paper. I'm sure this is a rare privilege and I am thankful for it. Incidentally, I imagine that the therapeutic benefits of such an exercise can be quite enormous. I will embark on these letters now.
Dearest Amanda:

I'm certain this letter finds you deep in drink and mischief.

It's a large responsibility being the life of the party, but you seem to manage quite well. Come to think of it, I miss the rebellious thrill of a wild detour from the path of righteousness. Those nights we spent together in Spain will always remain our precious secret and very dear to me. I will never be able to smell the aroma of cheap Castillian wine and not think of you.

I understand that you settled in New York and I hope it's worked out for you. Be careful—the cops there can be relentless. I know this from experience. I am terribly envious at any rate. I would certainly love a bite of the Big Apple right now. Speaking of which, be sure to take in the food, particularly Little Italy. It's as close to the real thing as you could possibly imagine. Knowing you, on the other hand, you'll be spending a good deal more time at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Those poor security guards have no idea what awaits them.

Amanda, thank you for encouraging me to look into the face of adversity, stare it down with strength and pride, and always maintain my sense of humor. I would have looked forward to a lasting and enduring friendship between us.

Live long and happy, work hard and play hard, and never look back—just like you taught me. Thanks for the memories.

Yours truly,

Richard "The Lionheart"

Dear Joe:

I have an unopened bottle of fine tequila sitting right here, beckoning you. It's not that I'm pessimistic about your life span, but if you continue to travel in such dangerous circles, you're bound to run into trouble sooner or later. Take it from me.

I was stubborn, should have listened to you and Methos. Too bad you weren't there with a gun this time. At any rate, I've made some good contacts up here and I look forward to showing you around. It may be centuries before I run into Amanda, Methos or Mac, so I'm not holding my breath. Don't worry, I'm not angry or bitter. I'm certain Mac didn't knowingly harm me.

I'm actually at peace for the first time. My life was spent running and ducking, and although I made good friends, such as yourself, I never really found a home. I've submerged myself in books and art and taken to many creative pursuits. I've even met a wonderful woman.

It was lonely at first, but I've come to appreciate my life of tranquility. Still, I would love the chance to spend one last evening at Joe's. Speaking of which, give my regards to everyone. I hold on to the notion that I am missed, and I'd certainly hate to be wrong.

I have great respect for you, Joe. You are a man of courage and fortitude (and perhaps, insanity) to live the life you've chosen. I'm grateful to have known you. Your counsel was invaluable and your friendship priceless.

Best of luck with your music and don't forget to bring your guitars when next we meet. For now, enjoy every moment. I know how mortals value their precious "time on earth" and I'm certain you'll continue to make the most of yours. And when that fateful moment comes, fear not. I'm right here for you with those drinks and many more. After all, if it's good to you, it's good for you. Take care, Joe.

Your Friend,

Richie

Methos:

It may come as a surprise to you hearing from me. Given the opportunity, I wanted you to know what a great pleasure it was to make your acquaintance and get to know you. For the record, I'm sorry I ever questioned your identity. I was plagued by both naivete and stubbornness, a deadly combination. I should have listened to you and Joe. Famous last words—I'm sure you've heard them before.

Over several thousand years I'd imagine you've touched many people, and I can assure you I'm one of them. I'm certain your sarcasm and irreverence belie a caring and a genuinely good nature, although I don't doubt that you, too, have your faults. I wonder what my life would have been like under your tutelage. But as we both know, "In the end there can be only one," and my likelihood for survival may not have been any better.

I look forward to a time when and if we meet again. Until then, take care. Be generous with your wisdom, Methos. Many could benefit from it.

Sincerely,

Rich Ryan

Mac:

Where to begin? I suppose the first thing I'd like to tell you is that I forgive you. I'm aware that what happened wasn't your intention. As it wasn't the first time I was confronted by this type of trouble either, I'm fairly certain I was doomed anyway. You were the brother and the father I never had. You welcomed me into your life and introduced me to some excellent and fascinating people who became very dear to me. We certainly had our moments of difference, but that's par for the course. You also guided, defended, and relentlessly looked out for me. I'm no longer bitter or angry about what happened. Actually, it may have been a blessing in disguise. I was always searching for something on earth, never quite happy or settled in who I was. Like your shadow, I looked to you for all of life's answers and never really developed a mind of my own. It seems sad now, painful to bear, and even a bit pathetic.

I do wish that you had encouraged me to take greater advantage of my time on earth and enjoy it more, as opposed to focusing so much attention on training to defend myself. Sometimes I think I was ill-fated from the start and that it was only through wits, chance, and the generosity of others that I was able to survive as long as I did.

I know you meant well, Mac, but I am finally at greater peace with myself and my surroundings than ever before. I even have a beautiful woman in my life and we don't live under a veil of secrecy.

In an effort to occupy myself, I have taken to a great deal of reading and writing and particularly familiarized myself with the works of William Shakespeare. Bill, as I refer to him now, has given me a passport to worlds foreign to me and my limited experiences on earth. I especially came to like this fellow Hamlet, perhaps because I identified with him so closely. We were both confused young men, caught up in tragic circumstances, very torn and feeling betrayed.

I think back on our time together and can't help but feel as if our lives were littered with tragedy. Quite honestly, I don't know how you continue to bear it. I admire your perseverance and your courage. You are a man of great principle and you taught me a great deal. For this, I thank you.

Take care of yourself. While I have faith that in the end you will he "the one," I would certainly look forward to seeing you sooner. Give my best to everyone and toast me once in a While.

All the best, my friend.

Until next time,

Richie

What a fantastic opportunity this has been. I feel better already. I do hope these letters reach their intended recipients. My friend, the messenger, is a trustworthy sort, and I am therefore very confident. At this time I am reminded of a passage from that William Shakespeare play for which I have such an affinity. I will leave you with this:
"What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals—and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?"