Leaping through time felt a bit like flying, when Sam thought about it. Once he put right whatever went wrong in someone's life, he found himself being launched forward, catapulted through a quantum void, past decades of births and deaths and earth-shatterings and minutias, until he landed, sometimes roughly, in someone else's shoes. As he began to take form in whatever time he'd landed in now, that flying sensation didn't go away. In fact, the more aware of his surroundings he became, the more acute that sensation was. The wind was blowing his hair back from the sheer speed of which he was being propelled ahead, but once he got his bearings, a sense of giddiness came over him. This was actually kind of fun! He began to slow down as he moved upward, giving him time to look down at the bar holding him in place.
Then he dropped.
A small handful of people joined in Sam's terrified shriek as they came hurtling down a track and toward the ground, eventually slowing and clacking to a merciful stop. A panting Sam was clinging to the bar in front of him as if it were his last hope, his knuckles turning pale. "Oh boy..." he whispered.
"Oh wow!" exclaimed the girl next to him as she stood up, "Alex, I wish you could see your face! That really scared ya good!" She was in her early teens, if that, slightly chubby, with curly red hair in pigtails. Slapping Sam on the shoulder, she let out a deep chuckle and jumped out of their cart. Somehow, Sam managed to extricate himself from his seat and hobble his wobbly legs after her.
As he was walking, Sam twisted around to see what hellish ride he'd just been on. There sat an old, wooden rollercoaster, navy blue and proudly labeled "The Screamer" in wiggly green lettering. Cute. He glanced skyward and silently cursed his leap's terrible timing. Why did he always have to leap in when something frightening or awkward was happening? Why couldn't he just leap into a nice, warm bed with everything he needed laid out for him? Was that so much to ask?
Swiveling his head around, he took in the rest of his surroundings. He was at a fair, on a busy day it seemed like, as people bustled by and laughed and ate cotton candy. The smell of popcorn clung to the air, and Sam felt his stomach growl. Swell. Now he was nauseous and hungry. But maybe that was leftover wooziness from the leap-in. He wondered if there was some rule about waiting thirty minutes after a leap to eat.
"Hey Alex, you coming?" It was the girl from before. She was walking backwards as she called to Sam from up ahead, her arms outspread questioningly. That confirmed that he must be Alex.
"Uh, yeah, wait up!" Sam called as he jogged to catch up to her.
"You feeling okay?" asked the girl as she spun to face forward, "I've never seen you flip your wig like that on The Screamer before!"
"Me? Oh, I'm fine," Sam said with a reassuring smile, "I just-I guess my stomach's not as strong as it used to be." He could only assume this was a fair Alex and this girl had visited in the past.
She gave him a confused look. "What're you talking about? We just rode it yesterday!" Before Sam could stumble into much of a response, she was distracted by a booth. Pointing excitedly, she ran toward it and exclaimed, "Far out!"
"Hey, wait up!" Sam called out as he rushed to catch up to...whoever this ball of energy was. His girlfriend? Were they on a date? He crossed his fingers that they were brother and sister. Romantic entanglements were never Sam's favorite part of leaping, but especially so when the girl was young enough to be his daughter. Yikes. He shuddered at the thought. He was getting too old for leaping. Wasn't he?
When he caught up with the excitable redhead, he caught sight of the sign on the booth, hand-painted and proudly proclaiming: THE WORLD'S HOTTEST CHILI DOG! A cartoon man underneath the lettering had waterfalls of tears streaming from his eyes as he spewed a stream of fire from his mouth.
"We've gotta try it, Alex!" the girl cried out as she hopped up in the air.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly. "I dunno, uh, maybe we should just..."
"Two please!" the girl piped up to the man working the stand. She handed him some cash, and before Sam knew it, a greasy mess that probably had a hot dog underneath it somewhere was being shoved in his face. The smell of peppers slammed into him like a truck and he coughed in surprise.
The girl licked her lips and raised her chili dog to her mouth. "We'll try it together, okay? On three."
The rumbling sound coming from Sam's stomach reminded him that he was actually pretty hungry. And until he knew more about why he was here, he should do what Alex would do...Besides, it couldn't be that bad. He liked spicy food alright, although he'd never had the opportunity to have the "world's hottest" anything. Hell, there was no time like the present to start being adventurous! Or, like the past, Sam corrected himself. He slowly lifted his chili dog and nodded. "Ready."
"One, two...three!"
-
Once he'd stopped spewing, Sam moaned and held onto the edges of the waste basket to catch his breath. Unsurprisingly, he didn't find himself liking the chili dog any better the second time around. Eating it was akin to swallowing gasoline and chasing it with a lit match, only slightly less fun. Several cups of water later, his mouth still felt like it was on fire. He picked up another cup from the picnic bench next to him and took several generous gulps. Who in their right mind actually enjoyed eating this kind of stuff?!
"You know, when I was on shore leave in Bangkok, there was this dish we tried on a bet..." When Al's voice piped up next to him, Sam nearly choked on his water, which did no favors for his burning throat. The shorter Italian was puffing reflectively on his cigar, dressed resplendently in a metallic gold suit and purple shirt. "It was some sort of soup. I'm not sure what the actual name of it was, something in Thai, but we nicknamed it the Rocket's Red Glare." He chuckled. "Because later on, it would feel like fireworks were coming out of your-"
"Al!"
"-booster seat. Hiya, Sammy." Al threw out a little wave with an impish grin and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Sam indulged in another large swallow of water before responding. "It feels like I melted my taste buds off..."
"There's a pleasant mental image."
Sam gave Al one of his infamously done looks. He was in no mood for jokes. "If you're not going to be useful, Al, then why did you-Hang on, how come you're here so quickly? You're never this early on a leap."
"What're you talkin' about?" Al asked defensively as he threw out his arms, "I show up early on plenty of leaps! Especially if there's a girl involved..." He lowered his eyes as Sam cocked his head in irritation. Then he admitted, "But as it happens, your vitals shot through the roof when you leaped in! I rushed into the Imaging Chamber as soon as I could to make sure you weren't getting squished by a car or shot at or something." His smile returned. "I stuck around for the atmosphere. Boy, I love the fair!" Twirling around, he gave the area a nostalgic sweep of the eye. "Reminds me of when I joined the circus as a boy. They had me working the ticket stands, mostly, but sometimes I'd sneak over to the kissing booth and-"
"Al, I'm not interested," Sam cut him off, as he always did when he knew Al was about to launch into another long story. He got right to the point. "Do you know what I leaped here to do?"
"You've barely got your feet wet; when was I supposed to have time to figure that out?" Al answered, to Sam's slight chagrin. He whipped the handlink out of his jacket with a flourish. "Here's what we've got so far. It's March 15, 1968, and you've leaped into Alex Donnell. He's 14 years old, soccer player, decent grades...grows up to be a pretty average joe. I think it's safe to say that whatever you're here for, it's not for Alex."
Sam nodded. "Okay. What about the girl I'm here with? Who's she?"
Al consulted the handlink. "The girl, uh, that would be...Candace Harper. She's Alex's best friend; the two of them grew up next door to each other."
Sam let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god, I'm not dating a kid..."
"Hey, champ!" Sam was startled as a hand was placed on his shoulder. An overly cheery man around his age with horn-rimmed glasses was smiling at him. "You about ready to hit the ole trail? Where's Candace?"
"This is your father, George Donnell," Al provided in response to Sam's questioning look. George shook Sam playfully and he shut his eyes and held back a groan. He might not be dating a kid, but he had essentially become one again. That meant watchful parents, rules, and curfews, things he'd outgrown a long time ago.
"You in there, sport?" his new father asked as he gave him a playful ruffle of the hair.
Sam forced a smile and took in a deep breath, something which didn't escape a snickering Al. "Yeah, I'm ready. Candace is in the bathroom. She should be-"
"Done!" Candace proclaimed as she skipped toward them cheerfully. She'd chugged about as much water as Sam had, but if she was feeling any other ill effects from the chili dog, she was hiding it well.
"Perfect. Let's go, kiddos!" George slid his arms around both of them, squeezed gently, and pushed them forward. Leaning in toward Sam, he said quietly, "I know someonewho's got to be going to bed pretty soon."
"Ah, this is where I leave you, Sam," Al said as the Imaging Chamber door whooshed open behind him, "Don't stay up past your beddy-bye, champ." With an infuriating wink, he disappeared into the future.
-
"I hope you didn't spoil your dinner at the fair, munchkin. I made your favorite!" Alex's mother smiled widely through her heavy makeup and pinched Sam's cheek. He gulped. Good lord, what a nightmare. She seemed under the impression that Alex was five years old.
"Actually...Mom, can I get a rain check on dinner? I'm not feeling very well." Sam gave a smile to try and not hurt her feelings. The chili dog was not sitting very well with him, and he didn't want to risk throwing up again. He should've just told her he was full, because immediately she was giving an exaggerated frown and feeling his forehead.
"Oh, my stars! You aren't getting sick, are you?"
Sam gently pulled away. "No, I just ate something that didn't agree with me, that's all."
Mrs. Donnell stuck out her lips and maternally brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm positive. Save some of...my favorite for me, will you?"
Mr. Donnell stepped up to the foot of the stairs Sam was already ascending in the hopes that they led to his bedroom. "Don't stay up too late now, buddy. You've got school in the morning, and then practice after that." He wagged a patronizing finger at Sam, who kept a smile plastered on his face.
"You bet!" He chuckled and turned around. Please let his room be close.
-
Once Sam had successfully located his bedroom, he had to lay down. The chili dog and his stomach were at war, and the hot dog was winning. Ugh, he never wanted to see a chili dog again! Before he'd laid down, however, he caught a glimpse of Alex's face in the mirror. He looked like he could grow up to be very handsome, although he was still in an awkward in between stage. His cheeks were rosy, making him constantly look embarrassed. Or maybe that was just Sam being embarrassed for him.
Alex's room was about as well-kept as any teenage boy's. A soccer ball rested atop the dresser alongside a handful of horror action figures. Dracula and the Wolfman bared their fangs, while some sort of slime monster glared at him through its one eye. Next to that was a pile of comic books, resting in a precarious-looking stack. Sam noted the stuffed animals next to him on the bed and rolled his eyes. Alex's parents really did baby him, probably because he appeared to be an only child. Maybe Sam was here to help him grow up a bit. With that thought running through his mind, he absentmindedly picked up a fluffy bat with an overbite and clutched it to his upset stomach.
He'd have time to figure out what he was here to do later. Once he'd slept a little and felt better, Al would show up with his objective. He always did. Sam had to remind himself to not be in such a hurry all the time. He never liked waiting around, but some R&R wouldn't hurt every once in a while.
He could worry about it in the morning.
-
In the middle of the night, Sam awoke with a sharp pain in his right side, feeling feverish and chilled. Oh great, maybe he'd gotten food poisoning. That was just what he needed. Whatever it was, he felt lousy and nauseous. When he sat up, the pain worsened and he had to double over.
His stomach churned, and he groaned and covered his mouth. Pushing through the pain, he managed to stagger out of bed and into the hallway, but that's about as far as he went before the chili dog came back with a vengeance. Shortly after that, the lights came on and Alex's parents came rushing over in their robes.
"Oh! Oh my stars!" Mrs. Donnell gasped as she placed a hand to his forehead, "Sweetheart, you're burning up!"
"I tried to make it to the..."
"Shh shh shh, don't you worry about that," she cut Sam off as she rubbed his back. She turned to face her husband. "George, get the keys. We're taking him to the hospital."
"I don't think that's nece..." Sam was starting to stand, but he stopped and groaned as he was stabbed in the side again. Maybe, he admitted to himself, there was some cause for concern. This didn't seem like food poisoning. In fact, he was beginning to recognize the signs and symptoms, and he hoped he was wrong in his self-diagnosis. Because all of this seemed like...
-
"Appendicitis?" Mr. Donnell repeated in astonishment.
The doctor nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid Alex is going to need immediate surgery." Mrs. Donnell gasped.
"Wait," Sam cut in nervously, "Are you absolutely sure appendicitis is what this is? Maybe, um, maybe we can get a second opinion, or-"
"I'm certain, Alex. I'm sorry, but if we don't remove your appendix before it bursts, you could die."
Sam fell silent. The man before him was the second opinion. As a doctor himself, he knew he was right. In fact, he had memories of a previous leap where he'd helped a woman on a plane who was suffering from appendicitis, and he'd nearly lost her. But he also knew that an appendectomy was a relatively common surgery and easy to recover from, especially when it was taken care of before the appendix ruptured. Still, that didn't mean he had to like it.
Sam gave a small nod to his borrowed parents. "Okay. What're we waiting for?"
-
"Sam? Hey, I think he's coming to. Gooshie, would you stop talking my ear off? I've got it! Jeez!"
Sam's eyes slowly slid open, and a very colorful sight blurred into view. Al was hovering near his hospital bed, dressed in yet another amazingly tacky outfit. He wore a red plaid suit jacket over a matching blue set of shirt and pants, tied together with a black bolo tie with a twisted gold top. The hologram leaned in closer and raised his eyebrows. "Hey, kid, you back to the waking world?"
Sam cleared his throat and eyed the cigar forgotten in Al's hand. "You're not supposed to smoke in here..." he said groggily. Al blinked in confusion before Sam gave him a small smirk to indicate he was joking.
With a sigh of relief, Al gave a chortle. "That's a good one, Sam." He smacked a hand to his forehead. "Cheese and rice! You had us worried at the Project."
"Sorry..." Sam said. He was still a little out of it.
"Don't say you're sorry, Sam."
"Okay. Sorry."
"How you feeling?"
"I've been better," Sam admitted, running a hand over his face, "But I guess I've been worse."
"That's the right attitude! You'll get your spunk back in no time," Al stated confidently with a twinkle in his eye. He bounced on the balls of his feet, then looked as if he just remembered something, patting down the front of his jacket. "Oh! I've got something for you..."
"For me?" Sam asked, confused. He wasn't that out of it. He knew Al was still a hologram.
"Uh-huh," Al confirmed through the cigar in his teeth, just as he produced a large card from his jacket and grinned. "We, uh, everyone signed it for you." He held the card out for him to see. "We can't actually give it to you, but, y'know..." He shrugged apologetically.
The front of the card had a comical illustration of a frog in casts and bandages, reading 'Get Well Soon!' Al opened it, and inside the frog was hopping from a lily pad, reading, 'Here's to the next leap forward!' The space around it was filled with signatures and well-wishes from the Project staff, most of whom Sam couldn't remember, but he was incredibly touched all the same. His face cracked into a wide grin. "That's great, Al! Thank you. And thank everyone else for me."
"It was nothin'," Al dismissed, sliding the card back into his jacket, "Personally, I wanted to get you a card with naked lady mud flaps, but I was outvoted."
Sam chuckled, but he immediately regretted it and groaned in pain. "Ohhh, Al, don't make me laugh..."
"Sorry, Sam," Al grinned.
Sam sighed and leaned back into his pillow, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "It's just my luck. Of all the people in 1968 I could've leaped into, I had to land on one who has appendicitis..."
"Nope, kid, this one's entirely on you."
Sam glanced down his nose toward his friend. "What?"
"According to Ziggy, Alex Donnell's medical records never showed him having appendicitis prior to your leap-in," Al informed him as he took the handlink out of his pocket, "And it's a good thing too, because people might have some questions if Alex needed his appendix removed twice." He pointed toward him with his cigar. "So that means you were the lucky one with the Cracker Jack prize."
"Me?" Sam questioned, dumbfounded. He was so used to gaining residual traits from the people he'd leaped into at this point, he'd never even considered the possibility that he was the one with the appendicitis in the first place.
Al gave the handlink a good, frustrated whack. "Yeah, you, which has royally screwed things up on our end." The handlink squealed as he shook it. "This never happened in the original history, so now Ziggy has to reconfigure everything. You could've picked a better time for this, you know."
"I didn't choose for this to happen!" Sam shot back defensively. In the past, he'd had leaps where residuals from his hosts had made things considerably more difficult, but he'd never given any thought to how his own health could affect a leap. In fact, he didn't think that had ever come into play. He knew how to take care of himself and he was hardly ever sick.
"Well whoever's fault it is," Al said, his eyes sliding from the handlink to a glaring Sam, "Ziggy still has to rerun scenarios. We don't know what you're here for yet, so just take it easy for now. Don't go running any marathons." Despite himself, Sam gave a small grin and rolled his eyes. Al smiled back and opened up the Imaging Chamber. "I'll be back when we can figure Plan B." He waved, hopped backward into the doorway, and it whooshed shut.
Sam chuckled at the hop and groaned again. "Owww, Al..."
