This story deals with child sexual abuse, a topic that is a great concern of mine. This story, like Street Kid, is based on actual events and real people. As the proverbial "they" used to say, "The names have been changed to protect the innocent." There is one scene of moderately graphic abuse late in the story and for that reason, Macy is rated M.

I thank the owners of Quantum Leap for allowing me to use their possessions in my stories.

Macy - Chapter Three

Sam followed Al's directions and found his way to his home. He could see that it was a neighborhood in trouble. The urban flight was well on its way, but the Haller family was a hold out. He drove past his flat, went around to the alley and was grateful that addresses were painted above the garages. The buildings on the west side of the alley were deserted, two were burned out. The idea that a man like Luke was still here puzzled him. It didn't seem to make sense, but then Al said the entire family occupied the three flat. Why didn't Al give him names? He knew his wife and kids, but he had a bunch of other people to know. Maybe Al would show up soon. Maybe not.

He climbed the wooden stairs up to the second floor back door and walked into his home. His wife was a tiny woman, no more than five feet two inches tall. She was checking a pot on the stove when she heard him enter, "Hi, Luke." She gave him a cursory kiss on the cheek and walked to the kitchen entry, "Mike! Mike, come here, please." Without missing a beat she turned back to Luke and saw him smiling, "What's with you?"

Sam couldn't help but smile. There was a feel to this place, a feel similar to the love he felt in his own home around the same time. Young Mike stumbled in. He was a sweet looking boy, but not particularly graceful. "Hi, Dad. You call me, Mom?"

Julia turned to him, "Go find Macy."

The little boy said, "Oh, Ma," without uttering a word. It was all body language. Then he said, "I can never find her. She likes to hide in the burned out buildings."

Sam was startled by his daughter's playing ground, "The burned out buildings? She plays in there?"

With a mom voice Julia gently, but very powerfully said, "You will go and find your sister, now. Okay?" Mike walked out the back door. Turning to Sam she continued in the same voice, "And you should talk. You're the one who's always telling your four year old little girl that she can do anything the boys do. So why shouldn't she play in burned out buildings? Her brother does. Her cousin Joey does. Does it matter that they're older and bigger?" Sam looked hurt. "Oh, don't do that. I'm glad you encourage her. Last night she played a Clementi Sonatina. It was perfect and she's only four. We're working on Mozart's Sonata in C Major. I think we need to get her to a real teacher. She's a lot better than I was at her age."

Fatherly pride swelled inside Sam. Not only did he have a daughter, but one that was apparently a lot like Sam Beckett. He had an overwhelming urge to hug his wife, so he did and she returned the affection easily. "I think I'd better change before dinner. I have to get out of this suit. It's too hot." He exited toward the living area, looking into each room, until he found his bedroom.

It was a homey place, a little too 50s for Sam's taste, but then it was the 50s. Sam had a chance to really take a look at himself in the mirror. He had a shock of blond curls that was cut in such a way as to minimize the effect. Now he knew why Al kept his wiry hair cropped short. Luke's eyes were sky blue and had a definite spark. All in all, not a bad looking guy, who could maybe lose a little weight. There was a pair of khaki chinos on a hook in the closet. A light blue shirt hung next to it. This would be an ideal time for Al to show up. Ideal, but Al often was less than ideal.

Sam made his way back to the kitchen. Julia was setting the table. His primary concern was Macy and the abandoned buildings. "Julia, I'm going to help Mike look for Macy. I don't want him in those buildings either."

Without turning around she said, "Dinner's in 15 minutes."

"Okay." Sam walked out the back door and looked out at the huge yard. He could see Mike walking back down the alley toward the house without his sister in tow. Mike entered the back yard as Sam came down the steps, "No luck, Mike?"

The little boy was sorry he had failed to find his sister, "I tried, Dad. I yelled up into the buildings, but she didn't answer. You know Macy. She's stubborn and doesn't listen to me. Maybe if you call."

Sam eyed the fragile buildings thinking it wasn't even safe for him to go in, "You sure she's in there?"

Mike gave a shrug, "Who knows? She might be with Mama or down at the empty frat houses."

"What about her friends?"

"She doesn't have friends. She just plays the piano and hangs out alone."

"Thanks Mike. Go on in. I'll find her." It seemed like such a sad existence for a child, Luke's child. This was a nice man and he had a nice family. Why didn't his kid have any friends? No wonder her photograph looked so sorrowful. The idea that she could grow up to commit suicide was not so foreign now. There wasn't much to go on considering he hadn't even met the child.

He stopped in his tracks and remembered that children Macy's age saw Sam, not the host body. Macy might not recognize her father. This was going to be hard. A little help from Al would be appreciated around now. He started toward a building at the end of the alley and he saw her. Her flaming red hair was wildly curly. She wore blue dungarees and a flowered shirt. Her complexion was fair and well in keeping with the flaming hair. She walked up to him very tentatively, unsure of what she was seeing. Understandably, she stopped just out of his reach, "Where's my daddy?"

It was a straightforward question, but how to answer? "Can you keep a secret?"

Looking at the ground, she answered him, "Yes."

He decided to get down to her level, "It's kind of hard. Do I look like your daddy?" She shook her head. "Well, everyone else is going to think I'm your daddy, but I'm really not. Your daddy is safe and he'll be coming back soon. Until he does, you have to pretend that I'm your daddy. Can you do that?" The response was a nod.

Sam stood up and held out his hand for her. She asked, "Do I have to?"

Sam understood her reticence, but was a little disappointed. There was something about this child that made him want to hold her and let her know everything was going to be fine. "Not if you don't want to, but I can promise you that I won't hurt you."

Macy gave him a once over look, a scan that was far too mature for such a little girl. She took his hand, but it seemed out of obligation, not affection. Together they walked toward the three flat that was their home. Sam wondered about this little girl. Julia said she was bright and talented, but something else was going on. He was certain Macy was the reason he leaped into Luke Haller.

They entered the kitchen. Julia looked at her daughter, "Oh, Macy. Your hair is a mess. Go wash up for dinner." Macy glanced at Sam realizing that he told her the truth. Other people didn't know Sam wasn't her dad. Even her mom didn't know. She ambled off to wash up. "So, where was she? In the burned out buildings?"

"I think so. I found her in the alley. We need to get the city to tear those eyesores down. They're dangerous."

Julia began to put dinner on the table, "You know they'll never be torn down. They don't want to put money into this area. The university will be more likely to do something. I have a feeling they're going to own this whole area eventually. It's too bad. The neighborhood used to be so nice. I loved growing up here. You'd better wash up, too."

And the Haller family had dinner. Sam had to watch his family for instructions on how to eat the stuffed artichokes. They were a little exotic to him, but he enjoyed the Italian cheese, bread crumb and garlic filling. He made a mental note to ask Al about the dish.

Mike gulped his milk and looked at Sam, "Dad, can we play catch after dinner?"

"Sure, Mike." Sam saw Julia give him a look that bordered on kill, "As long as it's okay with your mom."

Julia wiped her mouth with her napkin, "Well, Mike hasn't practiced his piano, yet. He's supposed to put in 20 minutes a day. That's not much, is it, Mike?"

The disappointment in his voice was easy to hear, "No, ma'am. I'll go practice."

Sam smiled at his son, "We'll play catch after you practice. Maybe Macy and I can play catch until you're done, then you can join us."

"No." The word was blurted out with strength and purpose. "Mom, will you practice with me? I want to play the piano."

"Mike needs to practice now. You've already practiced today. I think it would be good for you to play catch. Mike, if you're finished with dinner, you can go upstairs now." Mike left.

Macy was clearly not happy with the way things were, but Sam wasn't sure of the reason. She was still suspicious of her new father, but she wasn't making any noise about it. Maybe she really wanted to practice. Julia did say she was very good. There was no answer in Macy's hazel eyes. Sam planned on playing it very low key until Al came back with more information.

After dinner Sam took Macy outside. "Should we play catch, or do you want to do something else?" Macy shrugged. "Let's play catch for awhile. Go get us a ball, okay? She meandered off.

A little boy just older than Macy ran into the yard from the first floor porch. He was followed by an older man, about Luke's age. The boy ran up to Sam, "Uncle Luke!" and he hugged Sam. "Daddy and me are going bike riding. Want to come?"

The boy jumped on Sam who smiled at the animated face, "Hello, there."

The man came up to them, "Hi, Luke. Joey, get down. Leave your uncle alone. How you doing?"

"Fine, you?" A boring conversation, but Sam had little to go on. He figured out that the man was his brother-in-law, but he had no name to go by. Macy could probably help once she got back.

"Fine. You're welcome to come with us."

"No, thanks. Macy and I are going to throw a ball around. We're waiting for Mike to finished practicing."

"Yeah, we were talking about that at dinner tonight. I think it's time for Joey to start lessons. You know, since Macy plays, he has to."

Macy came back and looked like she was purposely avoiding Joey. "Hi, Uncle George." Yes! A name. This man's name was George. Macy hid behind Sam's leg. Sam could tell that Joey was a tormenter of his little girl.

George looked at Joey, "Did you apologize for hitting Macy this morning?" There wasn't much love between these tow young cousins and Joey looked more angry than repentant. His father looked at him, "I'm waiting to hear it, now and I want you to mean it."

Joey and Macy may have been cousins, but there was no love lost between them. Joey was going to get Macy somehow for this humiliation and everyone knew it. "I'm sorry."

Nothing else was said. Sam looked at Macy, "And what do you have to say?"

This man was not her father, so she didn't have to follow his orders, but she did love Uncle George a lot and he made Joey apologize. She gave in, "It's okay, Joey, but don't hit me anymore. I don't like it."

Sam interjected, "That's enough. I'm sure Joey won't hit you again." It was a lie. How many times had his brother Tom promised not to hit him again and how many times had he?

George decided it was time to change the subject, "Annie wants you, Julia and the kids to come for dinner on Sunday. Mama and Uncle Mario are coming. Around 3 o'clock, okay?"

"Sure. I'll tell Julia."

"Come on, Joey. Let's get the bikes." George and Joey left.

Sam looked at Macy, "Well, Sunday sounds like fun."

Macy handed Sam a catcher's mitt. She put a fielder's mitt on her hand and walked about fifteen feet away. After a wind-up, she threw the league ball right at Sam, right into his mitt. He was surprised. She was a coordinated kid with a good arm - at four years of age. Little things were making him see how precocious she was. More and more he saw his young self in her except for one thing - the sadness in her eyes. Sam had been allowed to be a child. Something had taken that from Macy already and it bothered him.

From on high a voice called out, "Luke? Macy?"

Looking up Sam saw an older woman and surmised it was his mother-in-law. She was a short, but elegant woman, not at all what one considered a mother-in-law to look like. Macy walked over to Sam. "Her name is Catherine Fortunato, but we all call her Mama. If you need any more help with names, just let me know." She looked up at her grandmother. "Hi, Mama!"

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Al woke up, finally. He was freezing cold and it took a few seconds to remember that he was in the Imaging Chamber. "Ziggy, you there?"

"I am always available, Admiral."

Yawning big, Al asked, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three hours and 37 minutes."

"That long? What's Sam up to?"

"Dr. Beckett is asleep. It is nearly two AM in his time frame."

Al stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, Ziggy, we're going to try this again." He punched in his egress code. No dice. Nothing opened. The handlink crackled and sent a small electric jolt into his hand. "What the hell was that?"

Ziggy's voice was increasingly hollow and less human sounding, "You have input the incorrect code a total of 14 times. Input the correct code or internal security will delete access to all primary computer functions."

"What!" The intensity of his voice and anger were not hard to discern. Even Gooshie, Lillian and Verbena probably heard him. "Ziggy, what is going on. I'm all for security, but this is ridiculous. I made you."

"In what sense do you mean? You and Dr. Beckett built of my initial structure. Your mesons and neurons support some of my basic functions, but it can't be assumed that you made me."

In what could only be called a fit of military rage Al yelled, "Gooshie, you there?" He waited a few seconds for some kind of response. None came. It wasn't getting any warmer and he was too frustrated to think straight. It was time to bring Sam in on the trouble. Maybe he'd have some answer. "Ziggy, you still willing to center me on Sam?"

"As per your orders, Admiral. Please step on the disk."

Al followed his instructions and took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what to expect. For all he knew, Ziggy was ready to blow him to kingdom come. Suddenly he was glad he reconciled with his faith. Making the sign of the cross, Al stepped onto the silver disk and found himself . . .

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Sam was sleeping very, very close to the edge of the bed. He always had trouble with times like this, times that demanded he sleep with someone else's wife. First nights were the worst, so he lay in bed, half asleep and half waiting for a holographic presence to appear.

A tiny squeal of the handlink announced Al's arrival. Sam gently rolled over in bed and saw his friend materialize finally. He motioned for Al to follow him. Quietly they made their made to the extra bedroom at the front of the flat. It wasn't the first time Sam greeted Al with "Where have you been?" Sam recognized the pacing as big trouble. "What's wrong?" All of Al's idiosyncrasies were coming into play - the pacing, the hand through his hair, the deep breaths loudly exhaled, the hand wiping across his face. Sam was getting very nervous. "Talk to me. What's happening? What does Ziggy say about Macy?"

Al looked puzzled, "Macy? Oh, the kid. I don't know. This isn't a Macy thing. We're having trouble with Ziggy, trouble like we never had before. She's thinking for herself now."

Sam now looked puzzled, "She always had fuzzy logic."

"Yeah, well, it's getting fuzzier. She's doing her own programming and she's denying the Project access to select areas. She's become the queen of security. I can't even get out of the Imaging Chamber. She says my egress codes are incorrect. I know my damned codes. I can't figure it. Neither can Gooshie." Al's voice was rising in volume. "I need to get out of here. I forgot my cigars."

That last comment broke the intensity of the moment. Sam laughed quietly, "Well, that's a small benefit I can be happy about."

"Sam, it's not funny. Ziggy isn't right. Her memory was increased about two months ago. Six weeks ago, she started writing her own programs. Lillian thinks the architecture wasn't designed to handle the extra fuzzy logic properties and now Ziggy's gone berserk."

Neither man heard the soft barefoot steps of a four-year-old child. Macy peeked into the bedroom and saw a strange man in funny red and yellow clothes talking to the man that didn't look like her father. It was a confusing situation for anyone, but before she could run away, Al saw her and smiled. "Hi, sweetheart. Don't be afraid."

Unlike her aloofness with Sam, Macy seemed to take an instant like to Al. She went right up to him. "Who are you?"

Al's heart melted. It usually did around little kids, though he rarely admitted to it. He squatted down. "Who do you think I am?"

A different look was on her face. The man in the red pants and yellow shirt captivated her and suddenly she was animated and a living pixie, just like a four year old should be. She walked around Al and tried to touch his arm. Her little hand touched nothing but hologram. "Wow, you're like air." She ran through him and giggled. "What's your name?"

Standing up Al said, "Why don't you make up a name for me."

Macy wrinkled up her little forehead and thought hard. Al and Sam exchanged glances. This child was a delight. "I think I'll call you Sebastian."

Al made a funny face, "Sebastian? Where did that come from?"

"From Johann Sebastian Bach. You don't look like a 'Johann,' but I think Sebastian is just fine. Can everyone see you or are you like him?"

"I'm not exactly like him. Only you and him can see me. No one else."

The little girl turned suspicious in the blink of an eye, "Are you a secret, too?"

The question threw Al. Something in his gut made him very uneasy. He went down to her level again, "Sweetheart, you don't have to keep me a secret. You can just tell people that you have an invisible friend named Sebastian."

Macy slowly drew her hand through the hologram. She looked at Sam and asked Al, "Is he your friend?"

"My second best friend in the whole world."

Sam looked at Al, "Second best?"

"Yes. Macy is my best friend."

The lines were drawn. Macy was in love with her Sebastian and this man posing as her father was on her "I don't care" list. "Sebastian, will my real daddy come home. I want him to come home."

It was at times like this that Al hated being a hologram. He wanted to pick up the girl and hold her and protect her from whatever demon was inside her, whatever demon that talked her into committing suicide 23 years later. "Macy, look at me." She followed Al's gentle order. "I promise your daddy will come home. It may take a little time, but I promise." The look of instant adoration gave Al such a feeling of well-being. He momentarily flashed-back to his four beautiful little girls, all grown up now. With a sigh he continued, "Now, it's time for you to go back to bed. It's very late."

"Will you be here in the morning, Sebastian?"

"Yeah, I'll be here. Goodnight, Sweetheart." The two men watched the child leave.

Sam then watched Al and the younger man grinned from ear to ear. "Boy, she wrapped you around her little finger." and he added with a smirk, "Sebastian. Did you know St. Sebastian was the patron saint of soldiers?"

"I'm Navy, not Army," but Macy was still foremost in his mind. He quietly told Sam, "Something is going on with her."

Sam didn't hear him. His mind was fixated on Ziggy's troubles. "Are you really stuck in the Imaging Chamber?"

Al shot him a look that could kill, "I have no cigars and I spent over three hours sleeping on the floor. Yes, I'm stuck. Get used to me."

Grasping for straws Sam suggested, "Did you try my codes? Do you know my codes? I don't remember them."

"Your codes, yeah. Let me try your codes." Al punched in Sam's egress codes and waited for some response. Nothing happened. "It was worth a try."

Ziggy's response finally came through the handlink. Al read, "'Dr. Beckett's code has been input by someone other than Dr. Beckett. Search and destroy.' See what I mean? What the hell does search and destroy . . ." His words were interrupted as the handlink began to squeal noisily and glow. A surge of incredible pain spread through Al and he yelled.

Sam jumped up, "Al, drop the handlink. Drop it now!" Al tried to open his spasming hand to release the source of torment. He had to shake the now blistering fingers to dislodge the threat. It finally fell to the floor and disappeared. Al dropped to his knees, cradling his burned hand. He struggled to regain his breath. Sam tried to coach him through the ordeal, "Al, breathe slow and deep. Come on." There was nothing Sam could do but offer words. Al's breathing became regular with effort and concentration. "Al, talk to me."

Though it was lessening, the pain Ziggy induced was still coursing through him. His face showed the labor involved in regaining control. Sam came closer, "Open your hand. Let me see." Al held out his injured left hand. His fingers still twitched. Sam tried to see the extent of the damage. "Your fingers, can you stop that movement?"

Al swallowed hard and loud. "No, damn it. What did that computer do to me?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Macy come back. "I'm alright, Sweetie. Go on back to bed."

Sam ignored the little girl. "Second degree burns. You need medical attention quickly. Your arm hurt?" The look on Al's face told Sam he just asked the stupidest question ever. Sam ignored the leer and asked, "Any bones broken?"

The convulsing fingers slowed down and stopped, "I don't think so." Macy hadn't left yet. "Really, I'm fine, Macy. My friend will help me."

Sam ventured a closer look at Ziggy's work. "What a mess."

Macy chanced coming closer to her new friend. "What's wrong?" Her eyes zeroed in on Sam, "Did you hurt Sebastian?"

Sam took a second to look at the child, "No, I would never hurt Sebastian. He's my friend, too. Right now, Macy, it would be better if you went to bed."

She looked at Al, "Sebastian, are you okay?"

Hiding the damaged hand he smiled and told the child, "Yeah, you go to bed. I promise you I'll be here in the morning. Nothing will make me break my promise."

Hoping the girl would leave if he and Al became involved in the matter at hand, Sam continued, "I don't suppose we put an emergency kit in the Imaging Chamber." The stare from Al answered that one. "Okay. What do we have to work with? You have a sink, right?"

"Yeah." As Al answered, Macy walked gingerly out of the room, her head down.

"Let cool water run over your hand. Anything to wrap it in?"

"All I have are paper towels."

Sam sighed, "Not good. That has to be dressed first. I guess you'd better leave it exposed, but go put water on it. I don't know if you're still burning internally or not." As Al tried to get to his feet, he stumbled through Sam. "Al?"

"No big deal. I'm just a klutz." He attempted a laugh as he stood and fought off the dizziness that was making his head swim. He walked out of Sam's sight and turned on the cold-water tap. He plunged his burned hand under the running water and tried to cool the fire. It worked, a little, but he was already cold from the temperature in the room. This burn was going to hurt for a long time. His head was starting to pound, too.

He couldn't let Sam know how much he hurt, so Al called on the strength he found in himself when in captivity in Vietnam. He couldn't count the number of times he swallowed displays of pain back then. It angered his captors no end and they took it out on him, but anything he could do to show his disdain. The pain was almost worth it, almost. This time the pain in his hand and arm was strong, but it wasn't unconquerable. He would put on an easy face for Sam and Macy.

"Al, does it feel any better?" Sam spoke in a loud whisper. So far no one other than Macy had awakened and he wanted to keep it that way.

Blotting his hand dry with a paper towel Al reappeared from behind the barrier. "Yeah, it's fine. Took me off guard, that's all."

"Right. Look me in the eye and say that." Al could tell a lie with the best of them, except to Sam. He could never look directly at Sam and speak anything but the truth. "Come on, Al."

"Alright, it hurts. You happy?"

Sam looked troubled, "Sure. I'm the one who thought using my code would be a good idea. I'm sorry, Al. I had no idea Ziggy was this screwed up."

A wave of nausea overcame Al and he started to weave. "I got to sit down, Sam." He found the floor a little faster than he wanted to, but delighted that there was no further to go. "Listen, you get back to sleep. I'll hide out here, as if it mattered. Only you and Macy see me."

"Where's the handlink?"

Al scoped out the Imaging Chamber and spotted the small box against the wall. "I see it. Why? You got any other brilliant ideas?"

"No. Just stay away from it. Don't risk touching it again." He started out, "You sure you'll be alright? I can stay here. The couch will be fine."

"What will staying here do? You're a hologram, remember?"

That was the one thing Sam had trouble remembering. Al seemed to know this hologram stuff pretty well. He didn't mind walking through things. Sam on the other hand had a hard time remembering that, to Al, he was a hologram. He knew his world was solid and real, not agitated carbon quarks like Al's. "If you need me, wake me up, promise?"

Al raised two fingers on his right hand in a Boy Scout salute, "On my honor."

Sam parroted the sign back, but correctly, "It's three fingers, not two."

"Be grateful it wasn't one."

With obvious reluctance, Sam left his friend. With him gone, Al thought he'd try contacting Ziggy, "Ziggy, you there?"

"As indicated earlier, I can go nowhere."

Al sighed with resolution, "Fine. Now, I got a couple of questions. One, why did you try to fry me? I could have been killed."

"You attempted to input the code of another individual. That is a breach of security."

"Can I pick up the handlink, or will you try it again?"

"The handlink only responds to appropriate commands. It is not hazardous as long as protocol is maintained. Touching the handlink at this time will not prove dangerous, provided you handle it correctly."

Al sidled over to the handlink that was lying unceremoniously against the wall. With trepidation, he touched it first. No jolt. He picked it up and again, nothing happened. That was one small victory, "Good. Can I contact Gooshie and Lillian?"

"Voice contact has been discontinued through the handlink."

"What the hell for?"

"A major breach of security occurred. However, your activity is being monitored in the Command Center."

Al was trying to piece together the picture, "So, they can't talk to me, but they can see and hear me, right?"

"Correct."

"That's a start." He directed his next conversation to the walls of the Imaging Chamber, "Okay, I'm going to assume you know what happened in here. Now, fix it. I'm freezing cold and my hand hurts like hell. I'm also going to assume you are working harder than you have ever worked in your life to get me out of here. The bottom line is Sam's life must NOT be placed in jeopardy. If maintaining his life is not possible without compromising mine, then, well, compromise mine. He comes first. That being understood, I have to get some rest. I feel like shit." Then he started to hear the conversation he dreaded, "You'd better call Beth now. If she finds out we kept this from her, I'll be a dead man."

Al finally had the freedom he needed to be in pain and give in to its exhaustion. He lay down and tried sleeping. It wasn't going to be easy.

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