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 Eight

Macy held her Uncle Mario's hand as they walked south down the busy street. No words were spoken. They came to Roosevelt Road. It was a busy street, three lanes in each direction. Macy's mother and father told her several times that she could only cross the street with an adult. It was too dangerous to go alone. She believed her parents. Cars zoomed around corners and she was still small. They couldn't see her, but Uncle Mario could be seen and he held her tightly as they crossed.

Together they walked west on Roosevelt. The houses here were two and three flats and mostly deserted and burned out like the buildings behind her own home. Halfway down the block was a red brick two flat. A covered stairway on the side led to the basement. Mario knocked on the door. Another man answered. He was a lot younger than Mario and he smiled at them, welcoming them inside.

Macy hated this house. She hated everything that happened there. She hated her uncle and the younger man, but there was nothing she could do. She knew the routine, but today would be the last day. After all, Sebastian had given her the idea. After she was done here, she could go and jump off the frat house roof to die.

The men were deep in conversation. Off to the side was another man, someone Macy had never seen before. As he loaded film into his camera, he saw her staring. He continued preparing his camera paying no attention to the child that he was about to abuse.

Uncle Mario grabbed Macy's arm and in broken English said, "Why you wait? Get naked now and no talk. No talk."

She disrobed laying her play clothes on a chair. The red dungarees and yellow blouse reminded her of gentle Sebastian, her friend who promised that he would keep trouble away from her. She wished he was there to make the next hours disappear, but she hadn't told him about her uncle. She had told no one. Uncle Mario swore that if she told, he would have her parents and Mike killed and it would be her fault. At four years of age, Macy was the family protector and keeper of horrible secrets. It was too much responsibility for a four year old, but she had been doing it for nearly a year and no end was in sight.

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Al woke up abruptly in a drenching sweat. It was as if a nightmare had shaken him to reality, but he couldn't remember anything about the dream. He only knew that a horrible feeling of dread invaded every inch of his fevered and now very weak body. Something was wrong and he couldn't figure it out. He pulled the handlink from his pocket. "Ziggy, where's Sam?"

"Dr. Beckett is meeting with Karl Sorensen. The meeting will be successful. The odds are now 99.3 that Mr. Sorensen will survive and become a professor of Literature."

"Where's Macy?"

"She is with her uncle in a basement a few blocks from the Haller homestead."

As soon as Ziggy told him where the child was, Al knew. His stomach knotted up even more. He knew. He knew and anger drove him to action. Standing up was harder than it should have been, but he got to his feet and barked at Ziggy, "Center me on Macy right now."

"Dr. Beckett is not here to assist Macy."

"I don't care what he's here to do. Center me on her or I swear when I get back, I'll pull the God damn plug on you!"

"That is an empty threat however I will attempt to center you on the child."

With that, Al blinked out of the front room of the Haller home and found himself in the basement with Macy, her uncle and the two men. What he saw made him feel even sicker than he already was. A hooded man thrust into his best girl, his Macy and the cameraman was taking pictures of the whole thing. The rapist called, "Take a break. I'm tired of fucking this little cunt. Hell, she's so small it's hard to fit my dick in there. I thought you stretched her."

The cameraman laughed, "Yeah, like you're hung that good."

Macy saw Al standing off to the side. She ran to the opposite corner and curled up on the floor in a ball. Her shame was too great. Al wanted to kill the men there and if holograms had substance the local morgue would have needed a month to identify the body parts, but he had no physical presence in Macy's world. All he could do was try to soothe the desolate child.

"Macy, sweetheart, look at me." She shook her head no. "Then just listen to me. You have to leave this place right now. Run away right now."

She whispered, still keeping her face from Al's, "I can't. I don't have any clothes on."

"It doesn't matter. Just get away and run home."

"No. I have to stay. It's okay. They're almost done."

"Sweetheart, it's not okay. What they're doing is terrible."

"I can't cross the street alone."

"I'll help you across the street."

She shouted, "No!" and the men turned to her.

Her uncle came over, walking through Al, and scolded her, "I said you no talk." He grabbed her hair and lifted her off the ground. She dangled limply as if she knew from experience that the more she fought, the worse it would hurt. After he dropped her, he said, "On your knees." She kneeled in front of him and as he unbuckled his pants and pulled down his zipper, Al screamed as loudly as he could. "Don't Macy. You don't have to do this. That son of a bitch!" But his words fell not on deaf ears, but on the ears of a child too scared and shamed to do anything other than what she was told.

Al needed help, help from Macy's reality. In his holographic state there was only one person who might be able to do anything and that was Sam. He called out to Macy, "Sweetheart, I promise you, I'll be back with help." He input a code and yelled, "Ziggy, center me on Sam, right now, damn it!"

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Sam sat on the lawn of the sanatorium with Karl Sorensen. By this time, they were just passing the time of day. Karl was interested in life again, but it wasn't Sam's work that turned the tide, it was Al's and Karl's.

"You know, I sat up last night and thought about our conversation. I wish I could meet your friend, the one who was a prisoner-of-war. You said every day something makes him want to give up, but for some reason he can't. I kind of feel like that now. I mean it helps to know you're not the only one. I'm still not sure I can survive this thing, but it's going to be easier to try."

"That's great, Karl, really great."

Sam saw Al blip into the scene. The look on the hologram's face was awful. Sam could see he'd been crying and that he was in great pain. "Sam, I need you now. Lose Sorensen fast. This is too important."

Karl wanted to talk, but now was obviously the wrong time. He looked from Al to Karl and finally interrupted his patient. "Karl, I hate to do this, but I'm running late. Do you think we could talk again later?"

There wasn't any problem with that. Karl shook Sam's hand in gratitude. "And say hello to your friend for me, okay?"

Sam returned the handshake, "Okay. See you later." Sam began to walk away from Karl. Al came up to him. "What's up?"

"God, Sam. It's ... Oh, God ..." Al crumpled to the ground.

"Al?" Sam got on his knees next to the hologram. "Al?"

"Sam, you have to go home. Macy and . . ."

"Is she still going to jump?"

"I don't know. I guess so. I would." He tried to catch his breath.

"What are you talking about?"

"You got to go to her. Her uncle, that Mario guy, he's pimping her, using her for chicken porn."

"What's chicken porn?"

"Pornography using children. Damn, what island did you grow up on?"

"Are you serious?" and as soon as the question left his lips, he knew the answer. There were certain things Al had no stomach for. Abuse and neglect of children was number one on his list. He had known neglect and he wouldn't tolerate anyone hurting a child.

"Sam, stop talking. Get in your car and go to her. Get her away from those assholes. They're raping her."

"Where is she?"

Looking to the sky Al yelled, "Ziggy, where's the house Macy's at?" In a few seconds Al relayed the message, "1306 Roosevelt Road, in the basement. Go Sam. Go now, please." The grief on Al's face made Sam wonder what hell Al was reliving now, but he didn't take time to think about it. He took off at a full run toward the parking lot. Al watched him fly and whispered, "Thank you." He took a few breaths trying to calm himself down and prepare for going back to the house "Ziggy, center me on Macy."

"Dr. Beckett will leap out of Luke Haller within three minutes."

"He can't. Macy needs him."

"His job here is finished."

"Damn you, Ziggy! Verbena, if you can hear me. Get to Haller quick. Tell him what's happening to Macy. He has to be prepared. He has to believe her when she tells on that scum. Tell him where she is. I don't care what rules we're breaking. They don't fucking matter! That child needs him! Ziggy, center me on the house!"

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Verbena listened in horror to Al's half of the conversation. She was already out of her chair when he addressed her specifically. Luke Haller was just on the other side of her door. In a flash, she was at his side. She administered the medication that would bring him out of his sedated state. "Come on, Luke, you have to wake up." His eyes blinked open. "Luke, can you hear me?"

With a yawn, he answered Verbena, "Sure can. Is it time to wake up from this dream now?"

She grabbed his shoulder. "Listen to me. We don't have much time here. This hasn't been a dream. You're going home real soon. You're going to be in your car and driving to 1306 Roosevelt Road. You daughter is there and she's being sexually assaulted by her uncle and another man. You have to help her. You have to believe what she tells you. You understand me?"

"What are you saying? Uncle Mario is raping Macy? That can't be."

"It is and you have to believe her."

Luke's anger made his normally pale face change to deep red. Mario raping his kid? It wasn't possible. "How do you know?"

"There's no time to get into it now. You just have to trust me and trust Macy."

The puzzled look on his face melted as he leaped back into his own body and the host body of Sam Beckett emptied out. Sam fell unceremoniously back onto the dais. Verbena finally noticed the tears on her face. This was one hell of a leap. She hadn't cried and agonized so much since coming to New Mexico. She could only pray that during the leap, Luke retained the information she gave him and that he'd act on it.

The second half of the prayer was for Al. His system was shutting down and it looked like Ziggy would win this one and the Admiral would die in front of her eyes, not 15 feet away.

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Al was back at the house on Roosevelt Road, but no one was there. "Ziggy, where are they?"

"I can no longer keep you in this timeline. Dr. Beckett has leaped."

"No! You can't do this to Macy. Listen, Ziggy, you've done some pretty amazing self-programming lately. Figure out a way for me to stay here in their timeline."

"To do so would jeopardize your ability to return to your own timeline. You would exist in holographic form in that world for the remainder of your life."

"You and I both know I can't live much longer anyhow." He held up the gangrenous hand. "Have you seen this lately? Ziggy, I'm begging you, please. She's a baby. You don't what it's like. Keep me here with her."

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Back in the Control Room, everyone was riveted to the monitors. There was nothing more they could do. The situation was an immediate crisis and no one had any immediate ideas. Lillian was a weeping mess. Gooshie was holding back his own tears and Verbena was silently saying prayers. The technicians were in various states of shock. Things had never fouled up this badly before. A little girl was raped and nothing could not stop it. The Admiral was dying and nothing they did could stop that either. Dr. Beckett was in stasis, whatever that meant because no one could determine what happened to him when he was not in a host body. There was nothing to do, but wait.

From deep within the walls of the Project a rumbling began. The electronics that powered Ziggy were forcing more energy into the system. Gooshie and Lillian snapped into action and started collecting data from the monitors.

Out loud Verbena asked the question everyone silently had already asked, "What's happening?"

Gooshie watched a monitor of odd hieroglyphics dancing by. "She's writing new programs again. I've never seen programs like this before."

Lillian started making changes in the computer's systems.

"What are you doing?" Gooshie was yelling now because the noise level had become too intense for mere speech.

"She's asking for these changes and I'm giving them to her."

Verbena moved out of the way, back into her office. She turned on her monitors and watched as Ziggy somehow decided to work for the Admiral instead of against him.

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Al was having trouble standing. He fell to his knees, dropping the handlink. His left hand was a disaster. The smell of the rotting flesh was beyond his understanding and the pain was beyond his feeling. It was a dead hand and it was no longer his. Staring at it served no purpose. He needed the handlink and fished it off the floor where it lay unceremoniously. "Please, Ziggy. Keep me here with Macy." With that, Al was no longer at the house on Roosevelt Road. He was on the roof of a house three blocks away and then Macy standing far too close to the edge.

If he scared her, she might fall, so he moved slowly toward the opposite edge, slowly into her line of sight. It wasn't that hard to do. Slowly was the only way he could move. He was getting closer when she caught him with the corner of her eye.

"Go away, Al."

This time he heard the slip, "You know my name."

"I heard you and that man last night. He called you Al."

"Macy, come away from the edge. You could fall."

She smiled at him. "But I want to fall. You said I could be dead if I fell. I heard you tell the man. In three days, I can be dead."

Al's heart was racing and it wasn't only the fever he fought. "Macy, do you want to die because of your uncle?"

She craned her little neck over the edge. "It's a long way down."

"Way too long. Come back from the edge. We can talk first. Then if you want to fall off the edge, you can."

"Promise?"

He had no physical way of stopping her. Not even Sam could help her, if he was still around, was on his way to the house, not this empty building. "I promise." He moved to the ledge. "Can we sit down?" She sat and he did as well. "Macy, how long has your uncle been doing bad things to you?"

She kept her eyes glued to the roof and said nothing. Al knew what that meant. The little red head couldn't remember when he didn't rape her. "Your uncle is a bad man. What he did was wrong."

"No. I'm a bad girl. He says so and he's a grownup."

"I'm a grownup too and I say you're not a bad girl and you know what? Even if you were, he doesn't have the right to hurt you. He's a bad man."

She wanted to look at her friend and confidant, but the courage she needed to face him was just not there. Her little index finger scraped at the edge of a piece of roofing tile. "He said I was bad. That I liked doing things with him and the other grownups and, and, and that I could never tell anyone because they would hate me and then he would kill them. See, if I fall off the roof, then Ican be dead and he won't hurt me and my mommy and daddy and Mike won't be dead."

"Is that what he told you, that he would kill your family if you didn't do what he said?" She nodded. "Macy, look at me." She didn't move. "Sweetheart, you can do it. Look at me." Finally her tiny face, empty of all save despair, looked into his eyes. "I'm going to tell you something I never told anyone, ever. See, I never told because I was scared and ashamed. Now, everything I'm going to say is the truth. I wouldn't lie to you ever. Do you believe me?" There was no response, but Al kept on with his story. "When I was a little boy, I lived in an orphanage with other children. Do you know what an orphanage is?"

"A place for boys and girls that don't have mommies and daddies. Didn't you have a mommy and daddy?"

"Well, I did for awhile, but then they were gone and I had to live in the orphanage. There was a man there, a man that cleans up buildings. He was a bad man like your uncle. Sometimes, when there weren't many people around, he would take me to his room in the basement and then he'd lock the door. He made me do bad things with him, like your uncle makes you do. I hated it. I hated him, but he said he would kill the nuns that cared for me if I told. It was terrible. I wanted to cry all the time, but if I started crying, he used to hit me. He used to hit me so the marks didn't show, but they hurt so bad. I bet they hurt almost as much as it hurts when your uncle grabs you by your hair."

Her eyes riveted on Al, her new friend who understood her pain and fear. He lived through it, too. "Why do grownups do things like that?"

"It's not all grownups. You have to know that. Most grownups are nice people and they don't hurt children, but there are some that do. I should have told the grownups around me what he did, but I was too scared. He said they wouldn't believe me if I told, but he lied, just like your uncle is lying. Your mommy and daddy will believe you. I know they will and they'll make him stop. Now, I said I wouldn't lie to you and I won't. It's not easy to tell. Some people won't believe you and you'll have to tell people you don't know. People like policemen and lawyers and maybe even a judge. That's so hard, but in your heart you'll know that you're telling the truth."

Macy's lower lip quivered and he wanted to embrace her, but he was still a hologram. Tears finally started forming in her little eyes. "Al, I can't do it. It's too hard."

He didn't know how much more time he had. The shake he heard in his breathing sounded like a death rattle to him. "Sweetheart, I may not be able to stay with you very long, but until I have to go, I'll be right by your side. I'll help you tell and if I have to go away, you can still talk to me and I'll hear you. I won't be able to answer you back, but I'll listen and I'll never let you be alone. I promise. Please, let's go back to your house and find your mommy. I bet your daddy is looking for you, too and you know what? It might even be your real daddy this time."

Her answer was earnest and sad, "No, falling off the roof is better."

"But I know what that's like, too." He closed his eyes so tight that the tears inside them were held back. "See, I tried it and nothing changed. It hurt so bad, but I didn't die and you know what? After I got better, the bad man still took me in his room, but it was even worse because he knew I didn't want to live anymore. If you die, your uncle won't care. He doesn't love you. Your mommy and daddy do. Mike does. So do I. Please, let's go back to your house."

"You'll come with me?"

"I'll stay with you as long as I can." Now it was his turn to avert his eyes. "Macy, I'm pretty sick. I feel real bad. I don't think I'll be here long. You need to remember I love you very much and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you if I could. You're so special to me."

She placed her real hand on his holographic hand. "Am I your best girl?"

He sang as best he could, "You're my best girl and nothing you do is wrong."

During his raspy refrain the emptiness inside the perfect little girl slowly filled with the faintest ray of hope and that was enough. She smiled. "I want to go home."

Al sighed in relief. Macy would live and her torment would get the chance to slowly dissipate. All he had left to do was get home with Macy for just a few minutes. Once her parents knew what was happening to her, he wouldn't be needed anymore. "Let's go, sweetheart."

The pair climbed down the steps of the old deserted building and walked through the alley back toward Macy's home. The walking was hard for Al. Each step jarred his dying arm and sent shocks of pain through his body, but this was the most important walk of his life and he knew it. From the other end of the alley they saw a car pull in. It was Luke Haller's. When the father saw his precious child walking alone in the empty alley, he stopped, got out and ran to her. "Macy! Macy, come here, honey."

She ran into his arms. "Daddy! Daddy, you're back! Sebastian said you would be. Daddy, please help me."

"What's wrong, honey?"

Macy looked at Al. He gave her a thumb up and winked. "You can do it, Macy. You're my best girl. You can tell him. Go on."

He looked so pale and faint. "Are you going away now, Sebastian?"

"I think so. Tell your daddy about your uncle. You'll be fine, now. I know. Give yourself a lot of time and you'll be fine. Remember, you're loved so much by a lot of people, especially me."

"Good-bye, Sebastian. I love you. I hope you feel better." Her tiny hand waved. She buried her face in her father's warm arms and began to cry out her story.

It was the right moment. Al punched out of her timeline using the handlink and once again he was in the Imaging Chamber. He moved off the silver disk, leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. "Ziggy, are you going to let me out of here? or do I get to die in this refrigerator?"

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And then there was no more pain. The intense fever was gone. He felt clean and cool, relaxed and somehow free. This must be death. All in all, it wasn't that bad, except for the fact he left Sam to roam from person to person with no help and his wife and children would be fending for themselves. He was trying to reconcile himself to the desertion when he heard a voice call his name, "Al? I know you're in there. The monitors tell me you're awake. Open up those big brown eyes, my sweet flyboy."

He followed orders and when he did, he saw the owner of the voice. It wasn't an angel, but then again, in his mind, it was. The voice belonged to his Beth. He stopped to bask in her beauty for a moment before he said, "I'm not dead?"

His voice sounded surprisingly thin and old, still she had to laugh. "Oh Al, you came awfully close. Don't ever do this to me again, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He was afraid to ask the next question, but he had to know. "Do I still have a hand?"

Beth had practiced all sorts of responses to that question, but none of them seemed adequate now. She gently touched his face, "I'm sorry, baby. It was full of gangrene. If we had a hyperbaric chamber, we would have tried to save some of it, but you spiked a fever at 105. We didn't have time. Your hand and part of your left arm is gone."

"My arm, too?"

"To just below your elbow."

Beth had tried to expect a myriad of reactions, but the one she got was the one she never considered. Al laughed. "Damn. That's why I can't smell it anymore. The stench was unreal."

"They're still disinfecting the Imaging Chamber."

He tried to pull himself up a little, but the weakness was insurmountable. "I want to see it. I want to see what's left of my arm." Beth hesitated, but he turned into an Admiral. "I have to see what's left. This is going to ground me, so the sooner I face it the better."

Beth raised the head of Al's bed and then pulled back the sheet and thin blanket covering his amputated limb. With his remaining hand, Al touched the bandaged stump. That was the right word, stump and it had an odd sound all of a sudden. The stump was his. His arm was amputated about halfway between his wrist and elbow.

Beth watched him explore the bandage. "You'll be fitted with a prosthetic as soon as you heal. In fact, I've already made some calls. When you're better and Sam's in stasis, we're going to Chicago. I have friends at the Rehabilitation Institute there. It's one of the best places for rehab in the world. You're going to do fine."

All of a sudden, a sick feeling panicked him, "How long have I been here? Has Sam leaped again?"

She patted his shoulder, "Don't worry. It's only been about 72 hours. Sam is still in stasis and Ziggy has figured out a way to predict the lengths of his stasis periods. She says we're okay for ten days."

"I'll be okay by then."

"No, sir. You will not be okay by then. You may feel a lot better, but your temp is still too high and your weight dropped another five pounds. You're 20 pounds shy of where you should be and skinnier than I am and I resent it."

"Your weight is perfect. Anyhow, you're taller than I am."

"Who isn't?" She got a chuckle out of him. "Listen up, babe. I know Sam will need you, but we have to make some kind of plan. You can't be in the Imaging Chamber alone for awhile. You also have to limit the hours you spend in there."

"Yeah, well we can talk about it. By the way, how did they get me out?"

"They didn't. Ziggy just opened up the door after you zapped back from being with Macy. You were pretty terrific with her. Telling her about yourself was the ticket. That had to be hard." He didn't answer and his non-response sent her a big message. The subject was not to be mentioned again, but she rarely listened to anyone, especially her husband. "Yeah, I know, Al. Don't talk about it. How can you give Macy permission to talk, but refuse to give yourself the same permission?" More non-response. "You are a playground for Verbena. Do you know that? And you don't want help. What kind of torture are you putting Dr. Beeks through?"

This time, the laugh was a tormented chuckle. "You have to know I'm so messed up that if I tried to unravel my psyche, I'd come apart."

It was a disturbing statement. Brushing back his curly hair she whispered gently, "My sweet love, what does that mean?"

"Some people have happy lives. Some don't. Once I accepted that I wasn't meant to be happy, I got happy. Go tell Verbena to work on that one."

Beth needed time herself to work on it. "Not right now. I'm too confused. Let me see if I can find you some food. Anything appeal to you?"

"I want a double cheeseburger with everything, fries and a double chocolate malt."

"What if we start you with a poached egg on toast and maybe, if you're a good boy, I'll let you butter the toast."

"A three-egg cheese omelet with a side hash browns and crisp bacon?"

"Two poached eggs on toast."

"You're not meeting me halfway here, Beth. You said I had to gain 20 pounds."

"Not 20 pounds of fat."

"Come on. The last food I had was a peanut butter cracker."

"You'll start with the poached egg. If your stomach handles the egg okay, then we'll consider something heavier. We have to get good food into you. The hypoglycemia isn't under control right now."

He'd forgotten the hypoglycemia. There was a silence and it was appropriate. Too much needed saying and words weren't really adequate. Al looked tired. He took a long, slow, deep breath. "When will there be an end? When will he be home?"

Beth took his right hand in hers. "He'll come home and you'll be here to welcome him."

"Sometimes I don't think I can do this anymore. I'm over 60. I've been eligible for the AARP for over ten years now. I get seniors' discounts. Someday, I won't be able to do this. Look what happened this time. It was too hard to keep going."

"This wasn't a normal leap, Al. You were sick in there, deathly sick. If Ziggy hadn't let you out, in about another hour or so, we'd be holding the wake right now. Do you have any idea how close you came to dying?" He gave her a look that answered very eloquently. "Okay, so it was a stupid question. The thing is, Macy is alive and doing very well and it's because of you."

His heart thumped loud enough to make the monitor blip out a short screech. "How could I forget Macy? What happened to her?"

She soothed his fears with a touch on his face. "She's fine. Her uncle was arrested and he squealed on his pals. The whole lot of them went to jail. Turns out they ran a huge child pornography ring. Macy was one of the lucky ones. Some of the kids were used in snuff films."

The ugliness in the world never failed to astound him. Even with closed eyes, the horror of Macy's young life remained. All he could was tell Beth, "I hope they hanged. All of them." The Admiral ached for the life Macy had. "I couldn't stop it for her, Beth. She was there and I watched them rape her and I couldn't stop it." He pulled away from her caress.

"You gave her the courage to tell. Al, that's what stopped it all for her and all the others." His head was shaking, denying his wife's testimony. "Because of you, Macy was able to stop her own abuse and the abuse of who knows how many other children. I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, be proud of me. I didn't have the guts to stop it when I was a kid, but a four-year-old little girl did. She's a lot stronger than I am."

Debating his courage would have to wait for a time when he might be open to seeing himself as he truly was. There was no way he would believe her right now. Knowing her husband a lot better than he knew himself, she smiled and told him, "Well, God knows she sings a lot better."

The smile returned. "Like that's an accomplishment." He wondered for a second and asked, "What's she doing now? Do we know?"

"She sings and plays the piano in her own jazz club. It's called Sebastian's." Touching his lips so adoringly she teased, "I wonder how she came up with that name." Her injured husband yawned and looked desperately exhausted. "In fact, her cousin Joey plays bass in her backup group. They cut a CD about a year ago."

"Thank God." He pushed his head into the pillow. "Beth, I'm tired. I want to sleep."

"Sleep, babe. I'll come back with some food in about an hour."

Beth lowered the head of the bed. As she exited, she turned off the lights. His body was lit only by the monitors keeping track of his vital signs and feeding him intravenous fluids and antibiotics. He looked so small and insignificant. It was not a true picture of the immense hero now waiting to face a new fight, learning to live without a hand. Beth thought for a moment and then determined that in light of the other fights he had faced and won, Al would come through it just fine.

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