Thursday, October 27, 2005
6:25 am
There was a knock on the bedroom door.
"Come in." Sam paused in the act of stuffing the rest of Mikey's Math homework into his backpack.
"Are you decent?" a woman's voice called from the hall.
"Yeah," Sam opened the door, "What is it?"
Mikey's Aunt Elizabeth stood just outside the door holding Marta in her arms. "That must have been some fight you had with your father last night. He left as soon as I came home around midnight without saying a word to me and hasn't come back. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really." The person he really wanted to talk to was Al, but Mark told him last night that Ziggy was giving him some problems and that it might be awhile before he could see Al. Sam sighed.
"Can you find it in your heart to forgive your father? He means well…"
"That's not the problem." Sam jumped in. "I have to get ready for school," he added lamely.
Elizabeth looked at Mikey's desk. The figures Dr. O'Malley had scribbled to illustrate his theory lay in plain sight on top of a stack of books.
"What's this? Geometry?" she pulled the papers closer to her.
"It's just something Dad scribbled down last night." Sam had left it on the desk in hopes that Al would be able to visit him before he had to leave. He wanted to run the O'Malley Theory passed Ziggy.
"Was this what you two were fighting over?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Not really…" it wasn't really a fight, was it?
"That's a 'yes, but I don't want to talk about it'." Elizabeth was very observant.
Sam held his tongue and kept his eyes on the dog so that he wouldn't have to look at Mikey's aunt. Even the dog seemed to rebuke the attempted evasion as pathetic.
"Mikey," her voice was very gentle, "Mikey, look at me."
Sam raised his eyes, resolving to take whatever rebuke she dished out in silence.
"Your father loves you. You do understand that, don't you?" Sam just nodded. "Then tell me what is wrong?"
"I can't," he answered helplessly. "I have to go." He grabbed the papers and left the house feeling as if he was wasting an opportunity to repair Mikey's relationship with his father, but he couldn't fix Mikey's problems like this, only Mikey could. What was the point of this Leap after all?
"Are you ready?" Mark was waiting for him, leaning up against the side of his car. "I'm supposed to take you to school and keep an eye on you," he opened the passenger door for Sam. "You ok?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Sam wasn't convinced himself. He had spent a sleepless night going over Dr. O'Malley's figures and reviewing as much of the retrieval program as he could remember and also Donna's proposal. There was something about the woman he met in his last Leap that he couldn't remember and it kept him distracted throughout the night. "Any word from Al?" he asked as Mark got into the car.
"Not yet. I'm expecting him to call later on."
"Is he still having problems with Ziggy?"
"He hasn't said."
Sam kept his eyes on the road and tried to distract himself by reviewing Mikey's schedule for the day. He had a test first period and was supposed to meet with Mindy to get the Math assignments Mr. Jackson handed out yesterday. The test was on American History. He had forgotten to review Mikey's textbook and didn't think he would have the time now. He sighed, chastising himself under his breath.
"What was that?" Mark asked.
"I forgot to study for my History test." on top of so many other things.
Mark actually laughed. "I'm sure you'll do alright, haven't you been doing your assignments?"
"Some, but I really needed to review the chapter. I missed the first part and haven't found the time to go over it yet."
"Why don't we do that now? We've got time."
"I'm supposed to meet Mindy to collect my Math assignments from yesterday."
"I can get those for you while you take your test. What's the teacher's name?"
"Mr. Jackson."
"Not a problem." Mark turned into the school parking lot. "Let's get cracking on that History homework." Sam dug out the textbook and turned to the chapter he had marked the previous morning.
#
Al entered the small office not sure of what he was looking for. Hopefully he'd know it when he saw it. The first thing he noticed was that the desk was a mess with stacks of papers everywhere. There were no books, no personal photos or certificates of personal achievement. The office was completely devoid of personality. If it hadn't been for the plaque with Cynthia Marley's name on it he would've had no clue as to whom the office belonged to.
"Are you satisfied?" Weitzman's aide snapped. The long working relationship she had with the senator had allowed some of his hostile personality to rub off onto her. "There is nothing here; we've already looked."
"Were you the ones to make this mess?" Al gestured at the desk.
"We disturbed nothing."
Which meant that they hadn't looked very closely. Al sat down behind the desk and began going through the papers. Most of them were declassified reports on Project Quantum Leap, a few memos on various other projects that Weitzman was involved in. She had been keeping an eye on the senator.
"Did you see this stuff?" Al handed her one of the memos attached to a copy of an email Weitzman had sent someone detailing Sam's most recent Leap. Some of the information in the email was still classified and Al wasn't at all happy to see it. Emails had a nasty tendency to be far less secure than people assumed.
"No." The aide took the papers and read them through carefully. "I'll have to talk to the Senator. Ms. Marley wasn't supposed to have access to this."
"She hacked a black project computer; you think a common email encryption is going to give her any problems?" Al's voice was harsh. These people took far too much for granted and now Sam's life was in jeopardy because of it.
"We didn't think about that sir." She at least had the grace to be embarrassed.
"This is the post 9-11 world miss. You should think about these things!" Al checked himself before launching into a tirade; it was Weitzman he was angry with, not the young aide before him. "I realize that you are not responsible for your boss' sloppiness, but you need to understand. We can't afford to make assumptions. We're dealing with very dangerous people who have hacked into the best computers the government has and kidnapped a sick kid." Al shuddered to think of what would happen when Mikey didn't get his medicine. "We have 12 hours left to find him, Ms. Garcia, 12 hours and next to no leads. That's not a lot of time." The first time Sam Leaped into Mikey the medicine the hospital gave Sam also affected Mikey, and Mikey's seizures affected Sam. This second time though, that hadn't been the case. The Leap still caused Mikey to have a seizure. He had several while in the Waiting Room, but Sam remained unaffected. Without his medication Mikey would start to go into withdrawals and would need to be hospitalized. There was not a snowball's chance in hell his kidnappers would be willing to do that. Without his medicine Mikey could die. And if Mikey, in Sam's place died, what would happen to Sam?
7:45 am
Sam took the note someone had stuffed into his locker vent and shoved it into his pocket. It was probably from Mindy wondering where he had been that morning. He shoved the history textbook onto the locker shelf and pulled out his English book. As much as he enjoyed English lit he intensely disliked literature textbooks. They tended to be very heavy and extremely dull. His eyes were already heavy with lack of sleep. He put the textbook in his bag next to the laptop and zipped it closed then shut his locker door.
"Where were you this morning?" Mindy appeared from out of nowhere, if looks could kill Sam would have died on the spot.
"Studying for my History test." Sam was too tired to argue with her. He just wanted to get to his next class and close his eyes for a few minutes.
"We could have done that together." She stepped closer, attempting to trap him next to his locker. Sam assumed she was trying to be seductive. He could smell the liquor on her breath.
"You've been drinking." He was grateful for the distraction, but also felt guilty about it. It wasn't that he disliked Mindy, he just didn't like the way she treated Mikey, and by extension, him.
"It was only a sip! It's nothing," she insisted defensively. "It's none of your business if I take a sip between classes. It helps my nerves."
"You promised to stop drinking. We had an agreement." Sam insisted, not willing to give her an inch.
"I wasn't drinking, only sipping. I'm not drunk! I've kept our bargain." She sounded deeply hurt but Sam suspected that it was mainly an act to make Mikey feel guilty. Only Sam wasn't Mikey and he wasn't buying the act.
"It doesn't matter if it was a sip or a gulp, it was a drink and you drank it. You promised not to drink anymore – that includes sipping. You don't need alcohol to calm your nerves."
"Don't tell me what I need, you're not my grandfather! Don't get all Baptist on me!"
Sam just stared at her, too tired to make sense of her tirade. Was she really angry this time, or was she still trying to manipulate him?
"Well, aren't you going to apologize?" she demanded, one hand on her hip.
Sam decided she was still acting. "No. I'm not the one who broke the agreement. I don't owe you anything."
Mindy stared at him opened mouth for a heartbeat in what seemed like genuine shock before slapping him and stalking away.
"Good riddance." a voice muttered from beside him. For a second Sam thought it was Al, but when he turned he saw it was the young man whose locker was next to his. "It's about time you took my advice about her. She's nothing but bad news." Even though they had several classes in common he still didn't know the young man's name.
Sam was inclined to agree. "Yeah, but a bargain is a bargain."
"Man, you don't owe her anything. She as good as murdered your best friend and you should dump her like the bad news she is."
"I don't remember the accident very well, but I do remember that Jake was driving."
"She was the one who grabbed the wheel. Maybe you never noticed, but she bragged about it later the next time she got drunk. She practically killed your best friend, nearly killed you and still has you wrapped around her little finger." the young man slammed his locker shut and turned to face Sam. "I know you still have feelings for her, but really, despite having one of the best bodies in school she isn't worth it. You haven't known me very long, but I've known her since before her folks split. She's always been a manipulative little minx and you're better off without her. I doubt very much that she will ever change."
"I can at least give her the opportunity."
"Look who's talking. You should give your dad the opportunity and Mindy the cold shoulder."
What could Sam say to that? He happened to agree, but he knew Mikey didn't. The bell spared him from answering. He grabbed his bag with a grimace and turned to go.
"At least think about it." the young man insisted, following him down the hall.
"I will, trust me I will." But would Mikey?
10 am
Al chewed thoughtfully on his cigar while waiting for his plane to leave. It had been Diane's recommendation that they involve the FBI in order to use their resources to find the Visitor. He had been kidnapped after all, she pointed out. Al had been for keeping the investigation in house. Diane pointed out that computer techs and analysts were no substitute for trained investigators, then she reminded him that he did owe her one. But he didn't have to like it. He wondered briefly if Verbena's comment held any water. She had asked him if the reason for his objection was because he had no control over the FBI. He was accustomed to being in control, calling the shots and making all of the high level decisions ever since Sam stepped into the Accelerator. He had even resorted to some dirty tricks and broke nearly every rule in the books to stay in command. Verbena would point out that the only time Al had ever kept a rule was when he thought he would profit from it.
But that wasn't a fair observation, the whole point was to bring Sam home safe and sound and he didn't trust anyone else to have Sam's best interests at heart. The sole source of his discomfort in involving the feds was that for 10 years he had kept this project a complete secret, now for the first time he had to bring outsiders in. This wasn't like asking his friends at the Capitol for favors. There he would tell them the bare minimum of what they needed to know in order to get him what he wanted. Sometimes what they needed to know bore no resemblance to the truth. The best knew better than to ask. These investigators needed to know all the details of the case, exactly what and who was taken and from where. Without all of the information they wouldn't be able to form any theories regarding motive, without a reasonable motive they couldn't establish a list of suspects. It was all educated guesswork, and ever since the hacker's trail Ziggy had been following dried up all they had left was guesswork.
Al couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that the more people who knew about the project, the greater their difficulties would be in bringing Sam home. It used to be he could count on his two hands the number of people who knew about the project – the real project. Now that number was escalating at a terrifying pace. Most of these new people were complete strangers to him. It made him nervous, and being nervous made him cranky. He hadn't slept in two days; he hadn't been able to contact Sam in almost the same amount of time. He'd dealt with a computer crash, hackers, kidnappers and treacherous council members. Al was about ready to explode. Diane recommended that he go home, the Imaging Chamber was expected to be online soon and it would do him some good to see Sam. He had been tempted to see him while in D.C. but he had no idea what that would do. The Sam here was an hour into his future, that thought gave him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Diane had been right though. Not three hours after turning the investigation over to the feds they had gone over Cynthia's office with a fine tooth comb, subpoenaed emails (using the one he found as probable cause) and records including computer records and financial transactions. They found she had received large deposits over the past several years from different overseas organizations. The deposits were never made by the same organization twice, but always on the same day. So far all their attempts to trace where the money came from had been harder than tracking Alice's white rabbit. It was as if every one of those organizations appeared out of thin air for the sole purpose of depositing the money and vanished back from whence it came without a single trace of where the money had come from. For some reason Al wasn't surprised at all. Tracking the hacker's programs had given him the same type of headache. It was one he now shared with numerous FBI agents.
12:15 pm
Sam sat at Mikey's usual table and stared at his walking taco, wondering if they could possibly pour anymore grease in it.
"It tastes better if you actually eat it." One of his table mates spoke up helpfully, a girl named Samantha. She smiled down the table at him, eyes sparkling.
"Yeah, especially if you don't wait so long that it gets cold." the girl sitting next to Samantha giggled.
Sam sighed, picked up his fork and started eating.
"Hey Mikey, come sit by me! I need to talk to you." Sam recognized the voice and wondered if he pretended not to hear if she would take the hint and go away.
"Mikey!"
He forked more noxious stuff into his mouth and chewed meticulously.
"Mikey, you're girlfriend wants to talk to you." Samantha's friend pointed out. Sam glared at her briefly then tried another bite of taco.
"Mikey. I know you can hear me." Mindy evidently gave up shouting across the cafeteria and tried the direct route, standing behind his chair and tapping him on the shoulder.
Sam wiped his mouth while trying to think up an excuse. "Sorry," he said plainly, trying not to sound too unapologetic. "I was busy eating."
"I was thinking about what happened earlier today and I decided we got off on the wrong foot." Sam just looked at her. "Well, if you hadn't accused me of drinking I would never have slapped you."
He wondered if he was being treated to an 'I'm sorry, but it's really your fault anyway' speech. "I don't think I'm really interested in hearing this," he began. "We made an agreement and you violated it, then you got angry at me for pointing out that you violated the agreement, and now it sounds as if you're blaming me for your problems. I'm not interested in accepting the blame for your drinking or your temper. It appears to me that we have nothing more to say."
"You can't mean that. Mikey, think of what we had..."
"I'd rather think about what we have right now, lunch, which I intend to eat." he attempted to return to his meal.
Mindy's grip on his shoulder tightened and she nearly shrieked at him. "Don't ignore me. I didn't mean to hurt you – you have to accept my apology!"
"Why 'have to'?" Sam spoke keeping his tone carefully neutral.
"Well, because…" she spluttered briefly before recovering, "Because it's the Christian thing to do."
"Turn the other cheek and all that?" he asked.
"Yeah, exactly!" Mindy smiled.
Sam turned his other cheek, the one she hadn't slapped that morning, then pointed at it. "Here you go. Take your best shot." She just stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Turning the other cheek doesn't mean accepting responsibility for someone else's failures. It only requires us to be charitable towards others. I was charitable with you, even if you don't believe that. Instead of breaking up with you earlier because of your drinking problem and obsessive behavior I agreed to give you a second chance if you met certain goals. You failed. Now it's time to move on."
"You can't mean that." Mindy was stunned.
"Yes, I can." Sam turned back to his lunch which, if anything, looked even more unappetizing then before.
"This is because of what Frankie has been saying about me lately, isn't it?" Sam didn't have the first clue what she was talking about and decided not to encourage her by saying so. "Its lies, all lies!" her voice shook with anger, either real of feigned, Sam no longer cared. "I didn't kill Jake." her nails bit into his shoulder. Sam stood up abruptly and dumped his lunch in the trash before leaving the cafeteria heading for the main office hoping that would discourage Mindy from following. It didn't. "You can't take his word over mine, I'm your girlfriend!"
"No, you are not. What's more you haven't been for a while now. We were simply supposed to be just friends while you worked on your problems."
"That's not true! How could you mean that? It's cruel. I depended on you, on your support..."
"And now you have to learn to depend on yourself. Start by accepting responsibility for your own actions. You blew it this morning when you 'sipped'. You broke the agreement and I'm not going to pretend that you didn't and let you get away with it." Sam stopped in front of the office door, noticing Mark following them at a discrete distance.
"The agreement says nothing about sipping." Mindy tried to argue.
Sam just stared at her. "We've already been over this, it's why you slapped me remember?"
"If you hadn't…"
Sam cut her off. "Enough. If you want to continue this discussion then it will be with Fr. Jim." he held the door open wide. Mindy looked at first like she would refuse, then ducked under his arm and marched up to the receptionist desk doubtlessly expecting him to follow. Sam shut the door and quickly dived into the men's room. Mark followed chuckling.
"Very original move," Mark spoke up once the men's room door shut behind him, "hiding from a woman in the men's room."
"Who are you hiding from this time Sam?" Al stood in front of the mirror and shivered when he saw Mikey's reflection where his was supposed to be. "I've Leaped again!" he leaned forward to get a closer look. With a grin Sam matched the movements so that Mikey's reflection leaned too. "Sam, I really have Leaped!" Al jumped, but Sam didn't, he was laughing too hard. "Oh, that was cute Sam, very cute." Al glared at him, "I hope you enjoyed that."
"You should have seen the look on your face." Sam gasped between guffaws.
Mark just looked baffled. "What look?" Sam laughed even harder.
"I think I should call him, just a sec. Sam I'll be right back." Al stepped through the Door and added, "I'll come back when you're no longer in the men's room."
"That might be awhile." Sam wiped tears from his face as the Door shut behind the observer.
"What might be awhile?" Mark asked.
"It might be awhile before I leave this restroom. You don't honestly think Mindy stayed in the office to speak to the principal, do you?"
"I doubt it," Mark grinned. "I don't think she is going to give up that easily."
Sam sighed, "I can always hope." Stepping back up to the sink Sam washed off the grease from his lunch, as always fascinated by the unfamiliar reflection mimicking his every move. Mikey was a handsome young man, athletic with a deep tan and sun bleached hair. Even his green eyes seemed faded by too much exposure to the sun. With another sigh Sam turned back to Mark, "I guess it would be better if I faced the music now."
"It could be. You could always claim you wanted to wash up before talking to Fr. Jim."
Sam just nodded then opened the door and walked right into Mindy.
"What are you doing?" she snapped.
"What are you doing?" he countered, refusing to fall prey to her games.
"Waiting for you."
"By standing in the doorway of the men's room?" he pointed at her feet which were on the threshold. She had to have been standing right up against the door, probably trying to eavesdrop.
Mindy blushed, "Well you did disappear rather suddenly. You should have told me you were going to the bathroom."
"I don't have to ask your permission to answer the call of nature, and that doesn't justify eavesdropping on the men's room door."
"I wasn't eavesdropping! I was concerned."
Sam mentally rebuked himself. Making accusations, no matter how well founded, wasn't going to help him. Keeping his face carefully neutral Sam suggested Mindy step aside and stop blocking the doorway. Then, without waiting to see if she followed or not, he headed back to the office.
Fr. Jim was out, but Mindy's counselor called them over to her office.
"Please take a seat," she began, "How can I help you?"
Sam waited for Mindy to sit, then pulled his chair far enough away from hers that she would not be able to hurt his shoulder anymore. He noticed the sign on the desk with the counselor's name on it: Ms. Sanchez.
"He's breaking up with me." Mindy burst into tears.
Sam was unimpressed and noticed that Ms. Sanchez appeared to be equally unmoved. They both quietly waited for Mindy to finish crying and dry her eyes.
"Were you drinking?" the counselor asked.
"No!" Mindy sniffed, then seeing Sam's face out of the corner of her eye, she qualified; "It wasn't a proper drink, just a sip!"
"What was it?"
"A sip I said!"
"A sip of what? Water?"
"No."
"Mountain Dew?"
"No."
"What then?"
"Vodka."
"Alcohol?"
"Vodka." A little light was dawning behind Mindy's eyes. She wasn't going to get any sympathy here either and it was plain from her face that the revelation angered her.
"What did your agreement say about consuming alcohol?" Ms. Sanchez pressed.
"That I was not to drink any."
"How much?"
"Not any."
"How much is a sip?" the counselor asked patiently.
"A sip?"
"Yes, a sip. How much is a sip?"
"A small amount."
"How small?" Ms. Sanchez pressed harder.
"A negligible amount. I can't get drunk on a sip."
"Show me how large a sip is." Ms. Sanchez pulled out a flask and offered it to Mindy. "Just like you did this morning."
Mindy took the flask and shook it. Sam could hear the contents slosh inside. A slight grin stole across Mindy's face as she took a large gulp from the flask. The smile vanished abruptly then she spat the contents onto the counselor's hard floor.
"Water!"
Sam looked at the substantial puddle at the girl's feet, so did the counselor.
"Clean that up." Sanchez directed, handing Mindy a paper towel. It took several paper towels to clean up the spill. "Now," the older woman pointed at the damp paper towels in Mindy's hands, "Is that a negligible amount?"
"No."
"What is it then?"
Mindy refused to answer.
"What does your agreement say about consuming alcohol?" Sanchez started over again.
"It was just a sip." Mindy insisted.
Ms. Sanchez fetched a clear plastic bowl from her desk drawer. "Squeeze those paper towels over this bowl." she ordered.
Mindy held the paper towels over the bowl and squeezed gently allowing only a small amount of the water to fall into the bowl.
"I know you can squeeze harder than that. Do you want Mikey to do it?"
"No." Mindy blurted then squeezed the towels dry. Over half an inch of liquid filled the bowl.
"Is that a small amount?" Ms. Sanchez asked calmly.
Mindy looked at the bowl for several long moments. "No." she finally answered, "it's not."
"How many sips did you have this morning?" Ms. Sanchez resumed, not finished with her yet.
"A sip."
"How many."
"A sip I said!"
"How many sips Mindy."
"I didn't count."
"More than one?"
"Yes; but they were small sips."
"Like that?" Ms. Sanchez pointed towards the bowl.
"Smaller."
"Really? How do you know? Did you measure them?"
"I'm not sure."
"You're not sure if you measured them?"
"No, I didn't measure them."
"So they could have been sips like that, couldn't they have been?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember why your agreement said that you couldn't consume alcohol?" Ms. Sanchez continued doggedly.
"So that I could go to the Winter Formal with Mikey."
"No, that was the reward for keeping the agreement. Why did the agreement state that you could not consume alcohol?"
"Because I got drunk." Mindy whispered.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you clearly." Ms. Sanchez insisted.
"I got drunk!" Mindy shouted.
"Only once?"
"No."
"How many times?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know how many times you got drunk?"
"No."
"Doesn't that concern you?"
Mindy just looked blankly at the counselor.
"It should concern you. Getting drunk is not good for you. Teenagers can get seriously hurt when they drink, some even die."
"I didn't die." Mindy snarled. "Jake did and he was sober. Being sober didn't save him, but I lived because I was stinking drunk."
"How did Jake die Mindy?"
Mindy stared at the floor and refused to answer, the water sloshing nearly out of the little bowl. Sam reached over and took the bowl away from Mindy.
"It's ok to answer." he encouraged.
"Jake was driving me home." They waited patiently for her to continue, finally giving her a little breathing room. "We went to a party after the football game, Mikey and I. He was on the team then and they won the game. I forget which one." She paused to take a ragged breath, "Mikey wasn't drinking so I spiked his coke. Then I decided I wanted to go someplace more fun," she looked up, "that party had too many chaperons and one of them discovered I was drinking. Mikey didn't like the second party though, so we left for another place I knew and I switched Mikey's drinks again, only this time he hadn't noticed. By the time his daddy found us Mikey was drunk and angry. You make an ugly drunk," she accused Sam, "You were absolutely no fun at all and Jake made you sit in the back, only I wasn't going to sit with you because you were so angry so I sat with Jake up front and a cat ran into the road and Jake wasn't going to miss it so I…" her voice faltered completely. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone I just didn't want the cat to get hit." She broke down into tears, and for the first time they were genuine tears of grief.