Chapter Six
by C. Selene McBain and Kat Freymuth
Carlie was begrudgingly forced awake by the incessant banging on her bedroom door. Her uncle decided it was time for her to wake up, and she didn't have a choice in the matter. Bleary eyed, she gazed at the dinosaur clock on her night stand. Six o'clock in the morning. A feeling of dread filled her stomach as she finally realized why she was aroused so disturbingly early.
School, of course. She groaned. There was no getting out of it. She took her time to get dressed. Something simple. Stretchy jeans to show off her curves and a velour sweatshirt of some bastardized color of maroon. Her hair hung down in long strings and half covered her face. This was how she emerged from her cave and went into the kitchen to satisfy the enormous grumbling in her stomach.
"Good morning," Al greeted when he heard the footsteps approaching the kitchen. He mixed the eggs one last time before dishing them out on two plates. Putting a tray in his lap, he put the plates on the tray and wheeled himself over to the table. Putting the plates on the table, he looked up at Carlie with questioning. "You're wearing that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Carlie eyed the deep purple printed shirt Al was wearing, scrutinizing the silver suspenders and matching tie. She, too, raised an eyebrow.
"If you're about to judge what I'm wearing, I'd say your about to find yourself completely out of line. Nice suspenders." She sat down and started eating the eggs on her plate.
"Thanks. I'm rather fond of them myself," Al replied with a slight grin. He looked up at the clock. "You've got fifteen minutes until we have to leave. Don't want to be late. Oh, and just to let you know, the temperature outside is supposed to get up to seventy-three degrees. I'm just thinking a sweatshirt in New Mexico this time of year might not be very comfortable for you."
"I've got a shirt under it. But thanks." She practically inhaled the rest of her eggs before getting up from her seat. She touched Al's shoulder. "And just so you know, I hate eggs." She leaves to get her book bag and notebook computer.
"For a girl who hate eggs, you sure can put them down," Al muttered as he finished his own breakfast. Taking the plates to the kitchen, he put them in the sink before wheeling into the living room to check the morning news while Carlie finished preparing for school.
Once she stepped out, he gave her a little smile.
"Ready?" When she didn't answer but instead headed for the door, he shrugged slightly. "Guess so," he said mostly to himself, exiting the house and ensuring that it was locked before going to the car and getting in with practiced skill, folding his chair and carefully putting it in the backseat.
"I hope you understand I'll never forgive you for this," Carlie began as they were headed down the main highway towards the high school she was doomed to attend.
"You're fifteen, Carlie. In three years time, you'll be actually thanking me for this." To the roll she made with her eyes, Al smiled slightly. "Hey, it's either go to this high school or to the Catholic parochial school ten miles away. Personally, I don't have fond memories of nuns with rulers in hand."
"If you send me to Catholic school, I'll run away. There's no way in hell you're making me go there. You dig?" She slumped in her seat, "It's bad enough I have to deal with high school to begin with. You do realize that's it's considered punishment worse than death in some countries."
Al chuckled slightly at her words. "Well, I can assure you that there are no torture racks at this high school," he told her gently as he pulled up to the drop-off. "I'll pick you up here at 3:30."
At that last moment, she clenched herself against Al's arm. "Please, don't leave me! Don't make me go in there! I'll - I'll do anything you want! I'll clean your wheelchair. Anything..."
Gently, Al pulled her grip off of him. "Carlie, it's just high school. You have to go, honey. You need an education. And I wouldn't be a very good guardian if I didn't send you to school." He looked at her loving in the eyes. "It'll be okay. I'll be right here at 3:30 to pick you up. Okay?"
With a very heavy sigh, Carlie was finally able to leave the car, half dragging her book bag out. She bent down to look at Al one last time.
"Honestly. Haven't you ever heard of a GED?" She rolled her eyes and shut the car door, headed off for her doomed misadventure of high school in New Mexico.
"People who have GEDs tend to work at McDonald's," Al muttered before shaking his head slightly and driving away for the Project Quantum Leap complex. There was still so much to do in rebuilding Sam's dream. Al just hoped that he could somehow rebuild a friendship.
The project itself was still in a sort of half state. The halls were littered with equipment and boxes of wires. Only certain sub levels were functional. The control room was the first to be re-established. Residential levels were second. Offices weren't so much available. Panels were missing in certain areas, leaving all the internal fiber optics exposed.
To put it simply, it was a mess.
Sam walked through the octagonal hallways methodically. He gazed carefully at everything, studied everything. He stopped at a wall panel where an LCD screen was not yet turned on. The screen was blank. He touched it and nothing happened.
Having insured that Carlie was safe in school, Al arrived at Project Quantum Leap with a minute to spare. Greeting the guard on duty, who saluted him with respect, he took the elevator down to the offices. With the control room pretty much re-established, except for a few minor problems with Ziggy, the offices were all that was really left to do.
Entering the hallway from the elevator, Al immediately noticed Sam touching a panel and frowning at it. After the other evening, with Sam going off on him so violently, Al wondered what kind of mental state the scientist would be in. He just hoped that he could get through Sam's denial and self-inflicted guilt.
"Good morning, Sam," he greeted cautiously, hoping he wouldn't get his head bitten off as usual.
Sam turned briskly, startled by the admiral's husky voice. Silently, he gazed at the man in the wheelchair, cocking his head slightly and almost trying not to smile.
"Good morning... Al." He briefly turned away to suppress the smirk that was creeping onto his lips. Looking around at the cluttered floor, he couldn't help but ask, "Bit hard to get around for you down here, isn't it?"
He's being civil! Al thought with astonishment at Sam's greeting. "I manage," he replied to the question. "At least I can't trip over anything."
Sam only nodded before turning back to the blank wall panel. He touched it again, examining the exposed circuitry. "You can fix this, can't you?" He asked seriously.
Al smiled slightly. Donna must have finally gotten through that hard head of his. Thank God!
"Oh, sure. Hey, you are talking to the electronics wizard here! Nothing a little know-how and a hard-working workforce can't fix."
"Good." Sam replied, "I'd like it working soon." Then he thought for a moment, taking his time and still looking at Al with the same curious expression. "How are things for you, Al?"
Al licked his lips for a moment, not looking at his friend. "You know, I think this is the first time since the incident that you've even paid the least bit of attention to me without getting all weird." Seeing the surprised look on Sam's face, he continued.
"It's nice to hear that you care." He took a breath. "I'm okay, considering. I mean, Carlie... she... she's really something." He chuckled slightly. "Makes me wonder if I was that stubborn at her age."
"Carlie's your . . . girlfriend?" He asked carefully.
Al frowned slightly. "Fifteen years old is a little young for me, don't you think, Sam? Boy, you really weren't even listening or paying any attention to me these last few years, were you." Getting a confused look, Al sighed. "Carlie's my niece, Sam, remember? My mother's daughter's child?"
Sam occupied himself with the same blank panel, examining the crystal transistors one by one. "Talk about far removed. I thought you didn't have family."
"Yeah, so did I," Al commented. He watched Sam for a moment before rolling a little closer. "See anything that pops out?"
Sam was suddenly uncomfortable with Al's approach. He hurriedly put away the transistors. "No, nothing. Uh - I'll let you work on it." Just as abruptly as he said it, he turned to leave.
"And here I thought we'd gotten past this," Al muttered as Sam turned to leave. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You know, it's not contagious. And I'm still the same man I was before." When Sam didn't look at him but didn't take another step, Al slammed his palm on the wheel of his chair. "Sam, damn it! Why the hell can't you spend more than two minutes around me? This has gone on for too damned long! You're just going to throw away twenty years of friendship because I can't walk anymore?"
Slowly, Sam turned. He looked at Al, really looked at him. His expression was masked, deeply hidden even within his hazel eyes. His voice didn't waver and was frighteningly clear when he said, "No. I'm not. There's nothing to throw away."
Al swallowed as he looked into his friend's eyes. At least, he thought he was a friend. "So, the last twenty years... were a lie?"
Sam shrugged. "I'll let you decide." With those cold words still ringing within the cluttered hall, he left, stepping over various wires before turned the corner.
Al blinked in confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rubbing his hand through his hair, he sighed and decided to focus on what he knew he could fix, which was the wiring in front of him. After several hours of working on the problem, he was finally able to get the panel working properly.
At around noon, a strange chirping was heard in the hall. Ziggy's voice was still being worked on, so she ended sounding a lot like Max Headroom sometimes. "Ad-ad-admiral." quipped the computer.
Al sighed slightly, rubbing his face. His brain felt like mashed potatoes... which didn't sound too bad to eat at the moment. "What is it, Ziggy?"
"You have-have just received a phone call from Al-Alamogordo High School." She briefed, "Shall I inform secur-curity of your imminent departure?"
"Why should I be leaving, Ziggy?" Al questioned before thinking about what Ziggy had said. "Alamogordo High School? Carlie! What happened?"
"Accor-cording to the message left by Principal Alvarez, your niece was involved in a - shall we say - cat fight?" Ziggy still didn't have tact programmed into her, "If I may say, Admiral - this wouldn't be out of character for the Calavicci gene pool."
"Thanks a lot," Al muttered sarcastically. "Crap. All right, inform security that I'm leaving and let Dr. Beckett know that I had to leave for a family emergency. I have a feeling I won't be back for today." Heading for the elevator, a thousand questions ran through Al's mind, the foremost being what the hell his niece had gotten herself into.
It had taken a good forty-five minutes for Al to arrive at Principal Alvarez's office and it showed on his face that he wasn't in a pleasant mood. Still, he remained civil as he entered the office. "Principal Alvarez, Al Calavicci. Now what exactly is going on?"
"Hello, Mr. Calavicci," began the principal, but apparently the man hadn't been informed of his rank.
"Admiral," corrected Carlie, who was seated in one of the chairs off to the side. Her head was turned away to hide the magnificent shiner she'd earned from her efforts earlier.
"Sorry. Admiral Calavicci. Eh, maybe you'd like to ask your niece what happened."
Al turned his head towards the girl, who was obviously trying to hide the evidence. "Carlie?" he demanded, his tone firm and unyielding. When the girl didn't answer, he lowered his eyelids. "Carlie, look at me and tell me what happened." Still, no answer. "Now, young lady."
Carlie sighed and decided that it was a good time to act like the average teenager by being difficult with authority. She looked directly at Al, giving him a good look at the shiner. "It was a fight, okay? But you knew that already. Oh, yeah. And I'm suspended. What else you wanna know?"
"Why you got into a fight in the first place," Al told her bluntly. "The whole story, Carlie, not the cliff Notes version."
She stood up to her full five feet, five inch height, barely towering over her uncle but just enough to make her intent clear. "I fought because a girl called you things that no one should have to hear. She called me things. She called us things. She needed to be slugged, so I slugged her. Okay?"
Al exhaled slowly. "No, it's not okay. But we'll discuss it further at home." He looked to Principal Alvarez. "How long is she suspended?"
Alvarez, who was briefly floundered by the sudden address, managed to refocus and answer, "Three days. Ah, yes, if you'll just sign this, sir." And he pushed across a form of official notice of suspension, upon which an X had been placed on a line at the bottom. Below it was Carlie's signature.
Reading the notice carefully, Al signed it and then looked at Carlie. "Go get your things and meet me at the car." Then without another word, he left the office, clearly disappointed in his niece's behavior.
The ride home was less than pleasant. Barely tolerable. Carlie sat with her arms crossed and a pout on her lips that would be the envy of every model in Hollywood. "You're being SO unfair." She finally said.
"About what?" Al questioned, his attention mostly on the road.
"I defend you, and I get nothing but grief. That's what unfair." She pouted again.
Al didn't say another word until he pulled into the driveway and parked the car. "Go inside and wash your face. I want to get a good look at that shiner," he told her as he got into his wheelchair. Going into the house, he pushed the door closed and put the keys on the nearest table before going into the kitchen to get out instant freeze icepack.
Shaking it, he told Carlie to sit at the kitchen table and then he rolled over to her, looking at the growing bruise. "A cold compress tonight should help that out," he told her. She continued to pout. Al sighed. "Thank you for defending me. Don't do it again."
Painful though it was, she rolled her eyes. The compress was still pressed against her eye, however. "At least you thanked me. The girl deserved it for calling you - well - for what she said. Can't let her go around calling me a whore, you know."
"Kids can say some pretty nasty things, especially when they don't understand," Al told her gently. "But it isn't worth a fight. All you're doing is encouraging them to keep calling you names when you pick a fight. Never pick a fight, Carlie. But don't be afraid to finish one if they're the ones that start throwing punches. Words aren't going to give you shiners or suspended from school."
She hung her head a bit. "It's hard, okay? It's hard not to get mad. History class rolls around and the teacher decided to bring up a certain event in history because I was in the class. Word travels fast, I guess. Apparently, you're a celebrity."
"Really?" he commented as he started cleaning the scraps on her face. "Didn't know they were teaching about old fogies like me in History class."
"Uh, yeah, nice try, Mr. Innocent." she mocked playfully. Giving him a look, she finally cracked a bit of a smile. It was more like a half-smile. "You were an astronaut. But, at your age, I guess you might have forgotten."
"Nah, the memory falls out with the hair," he teased her gently. "Okay, so they were teaching about my being an astronaut on the Apollo missions and..." he started for her, leading her to finish his sentence.
"Ugh," she groaned, "She started talking about stem cells."
"In History class? How do stemcells in anyway relate to my having been an astronaut or that fight you got into this morning?"
"Yeah, that's what I tried to tell her... minus the fight part. I kept raising my hand, even interrupting her to let her know we were in History and not science class." Carlie shook her head, "I think she's a fan of yours or something. Or maybe she gushed because I'm related to you. Anyway, people started asking the same thing. She told us about what happened to you three years ago."
Al exhaled slowly. "So I was shot. Big deal. Massive media circus. And so..."
At that, Carlie stopped. Her mind had gone beyond the fight, beyond school and history class. With her good eye, she looked her uncle in the eye. "You were shot. How did it happen?"
"So, Miss Teacher-Fan didn't tell you that part, huh?" Al commented. "Just some whacked-out disgruntled employee. And you are getting off the matter at hand, such as how you got into a fight defending my honor."
Carlie nearly growled with frustration. Why were adults always so hard to talk to. "A girl in class didn't appreciate the attention I was getting, okay? After class, she thought it'd be a great idea to humiliate me. So she called you old. She called you crippled. She called me a whore. A lot of stupid stuff. She wouldn't shut up! So I made her . . ." She shrugged.
Al huffed. "Sounds familiar," he murmured, dabbing at a scrape. "You and I are more alike than you know, kid."
Carlie winced at the touch of hydrogen peroxide on her face. "I'm beginning to realize that. So why don't you spit out some history and tell me why you can't walk. No cliff-notes."
"It's complicated," he replied after a long moment.
"Oh, my god!" Carlie announced loudly, throwing up her hands. She put down the icepack on the table, letting her shiner show prominently. "You don't get to say that. I get to say that. I'm the teenager, remember?"
Al laughed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, well, I'm the adult. I get to say whatever I want." Seeing the look on her face, his smile faded slightly. "Okay. I wanted to know why you slugged some girl with an attitude. Guess it's only fair that I give you something back." His face grew somber. "Someone wanted my partner dead. I pushed my partner out of the way and took the bullet. The bullet severed my spinal cord."
Carlie studied him, thinking. His words hung in the air for a long moment and the kitchen grew uncomfortably quiet. Then she said, "So we are a lot alike, I guess. Take a hit for a noble cause. Right?"
"As many times as we can get away with it," Al said quietly. "Just don't get yourself shot, kid." He looked away and sighed. "Sometimes, it isn't worth it."
Carlie's brow furrowed a bit, her expression confused. Gently, she touched his arm. "What happened to the noble cause part?"
Al shook his head. "I don't know. I wish I did."
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