Revelations 9:6

Merle picked up the revolver, turning it over and over in his hands, and thought of Hemingway.

     "A Smith and Wesson snub nosed .32 revolver.  A simple yet effective classic," he chimed, "but in chrome.  Hmph.  I woulda taken you for a black finish type.  Get it?"  Merle tossed it back onto the bed and reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his smokes.  Camels.

     "Everybody thinks I gave these damn things up five years ago.  You want one?" He held out the pack to Cash, who shook his head, staring at the floor.
Merle shrugged and lit one up.
     "You want to talk about it, hoss?" he asked.

Johnny Cash sat for a moment and then looked at his friend.

     "They thought it was Parkinson's.  Turns out it's some shit called Shy-Drager syndrome.  The doc gave me 18 months.  Eighteen MONTHS!!!" Johnny screamed this last part and, in a brief nod to his wilder days in the late 1950's, overturned the bedside table.  The lamp shattered, the drawer flew open, sending the Gideon's bible to land open on the beige shag carpet.  Merle was unfazed as he walked over to pick it up.  He looked at the passage and chuckled.

     "Well, John, I think you have your answer right here," and he began to read.
"Revelations 9:6-- And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them."  He smirked and closed the book and gingerly sat it on the other bedside table.
     "John, we both lived way longer than we ever thought we would, back in our youth.  You in particular should have died several times over in 1958, 1959, 1960 and a few other times.  Remember how close to hell you used to come, and try to be thankful that you made it this far.  I know this isn't easy to hear, but you have to be strong right now.  How is it going to look if the Man in Black offs himself?  Weak, that's how.  You have a responsibility to your fans, to your family, but most of all, to yourself, John.  You still have work to do...hey, you got an ashtray anywhere?  Damn non-smoking hotels."

Johnny Cash smiled for the first time all day.
     "Nah, I already checked earlier when I was going to toke up.  Just ash in that empty cup on the table over there. In response to what you said," Johnny turned around to face Merle, "God doesn't--"

Merle was gone.

     "Merle?"  He walked into the bathroom, the only other place Merle could be.

But Merle was no longer in 1997.