THE FINAL LEAP
MAY 5, 2000
by
Kristine Beltz
The evening sun had long since set, leaving the sky as dark as the many thoughts and emotions that occupied Admiral Al Calavicci's mind and heart. The bad news was expected, but that didn't make it any easier for him to swallow. He had known that his nearest and dearest friend, Sam beckett had been lost in time for the last five and a half years, and that there was always the possibility that the neural-link that allowed the two to stay in contact this long would one day be broken. Al also knew that once the link was severed, he might never regain contact with his time traveling friend.
Al leaned back in his reclining chair, staring at the blackness of the New Mexico desert hidden by the incredible curtain of night shadows. It was almost 9:00 p.m. when Gooshie and Ziggy told him that he would need a miracle to find Sam again, and that, even though they'd keep trying to retrieve the missing scientist, they had better accept the fact that the heart and soul of Project Quantum Leap might never leap home. As Al lit one of his cigars, he turned his attention away from the window and looked down at the framed picture that called the coffee table its home. The smiling faces in the photo were those of Sam and Al, standing arm in arm before the Project's main building.
All at once, the last memories Al had of Sam came flooding back into his head. He remembered the hard time he had locking onto his friend's neural patterns, the small 1950's bar where Sam sat drinking a beer, and the look that seemed to immortalize itself on the younger man's face during that last leap. Ropes of regret began to choke Al as he remembered thinking Sam had gone crazy when he heard the leaper telling him of the amazing string of coincidences that were going on. "Whatever it takes, I'm gonna getcha outta this" were the last words he had ever said to Sam. Why couldn't it be "Bye, Sam" or "I love you, Kiddo"? If that was to be the last time he would ever see Sam, why didn't he tell him how he felt about him?
Once the cigar was gone, the heavy hearted man snatched the picture and stepped into the bedroom. Beth Calavicci had already fallen asleep, and her faint snores were the only sounds that broke the hollow and painful silence. Al quietly crept to his dresser and slipped the picture into the bottom drawer and laid a red and green jogging suit on top of it. He slid the drawer shut, groped along the top of the dresser for a pen and the spiral notebook that served as his log, and exited the dark room as quietly as he entered.
Al, using the phone book as a lap table,settled back in the recliner and began the most painful entry he had ever hoped to
write.
Friday, May 5, 2000
This is difficult for me to write, and it's not because my hand won't stop shaking. I lost my best friend today. He's not dead, just missing, and there's no way I'll ever be able to find him again. I'll never know where or when Sam beckett is; I'll never know if he's even dead or alive. God, it would be so much easier if he was dead. At least that way it would be final and I could deal with it. Not knowing what's happening to Sam is killing me, and there's nobody on the face of the Earth who could possibly understand what I'm going through. No one will ever know how much I really miss him. What hurts most of all is knowing how much he wanted to leap home and realizing he'll never have that dream come true. Does he know he'll never be back? Is he happy now? Sometimes, I think it's my fault Sam is gone. He was home once, but he gave it all up to save my life. Instead of letting me die on that Leap, he sacrificed it all; he left his home and his wife all to save me from going over that cliff. Why did he have to do that? He'd be home now if he didn't. I can still remember that night. After Sam leaped and I had gone home, I laid down and turned on the radio. the first thing that came on was that old Elton John song, "Someone saved My Life Tonight". The first words I heard were "Someone saved my life tonight". How true? Now, I wish there was a way for me to save Sam. I don't know how to deal with this. Will I ever get over it? I'm not sure my life will ever be the same again. Verbina told me to come in and see her tomorrow, but all the counseling in the world can't possibly patch up the hole in my heart. She says it will hurt less each day; that's impossible. You can't hurt when your completely numb.
I guess I should see Donna tomorrow. She's taking Sam's disappearance better than I thought. I think she had been expecting this for a long time. She seemed to have a feeling something like this would happen. She's going to need someone to be there for her now that the baby is on the way. Poor Sam doesn't even know that he's going to be a father. I'll take care of Donna for you Kiddo. I promise I'll be there for her and the baby. I know you well enough to know you would want it that way.
These last sentences brought so many tears to Al's eyes that he could no longer see the pages that bore his handwriting. The admiral closed the notebook with the pen still inside and started for the kitchen. Unable to sleep, he sat at the kitchen table, drinking black coffee and listening to the refrigerator's low hum. He would not turn on the radio for fear that "Time In A Bottle" would play and tempt him to drink. Al then grabbed a cigar and was about to light it. The match's tiny flame was only inches away from the long, brown object when Al quickly blew it out and threw the unlit cigar into the garbage can. He decided he had better honor Sam's memory, not mourn it. What better way than to comply with what the younger man had been nagging him to do for years.
"This is for you, Sam," Al choked as he emptied his entire cigar box into the garbage can.
