Road Trip - A Look before the Leap

The author thanks Bellasarius Productions, Universal Studios and any other creative entities responsible for Quantum Leap.

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Day Five - A Second Reprieve

Sam managed to convince Al to stay at Parkview another night. The complete lack of anything to do helped the Admiral do what had to be done. He rested and slept allowing his body to regain strength after the battering it took. It was late afternoon when Sam and Al were once again in their rented car and on their way to Camp Amazing Grace.

"Free at last. You can't imagine how good it feels to be wearing pants."

Sam laughed. "It's not anything I've considered, but I'll have to think about it."

Al stared out the window. "This is one flat state."

"When you're a farmer, flat is a lovely thing. My father's family has been farming here since the mid-1800s. It's good country."

"Yeah, I guess it would be. You did alright here, that's for sure."

Sam thought back to his youth and he just started talking. "I liked growing up in Elk Ridge. It was safe. I didn't have to worry about locking my door. There didn't seem to be a lot to be afraid of. That kind of existence is ideal for a child. Every kid should grow up like that." As soon as he heard the words leave his mouth, he regretted it. "I'm sorry, Al."

"Listen, kid, stop apologizing for having a terrific childhood. You're right. Every kid should grow up like that. Some do and some don't. Get over it."

"I don't want to."

Al smiled. "I guess I don't want to either. One of the things I hope Quantum Leap will do is help kids be happy and safe. We got to, Sam. If we don't then it's all for nothing."

The two men spoke often about the potential for good their project would do, but this was the first time it got down to something as basic as making a child's life happy. Sam thought they finally hit on the most profound thing they might accomplish. His incredible brain began to calculate the potential for positive change if a single child's life was improved. Al didn't have to calculate it. He had the proof sitting next to him.

They pulled into the campgrounds and just like the first time they did so, everyone poured out of the house to greet the returning heroes. Thelma took Al's arm and gently held him as they walked in. "I'm so glad you're back home. How are you feeling?"

"Really, I'm fine. It was much ado about nothing."

Thelma shook her head. "That's what you think."

Once in the house, Al was ushered into the living room and guided to the big lazy boy that had been moved a little closer to the fireplace. Dave said, "Your throne awaits."

"Don't go overboard with this. I'm fine."

Katie sat on the arm of the chair next to Al. "I'm so glad to hear that. I thought he killed you."

Sam hung up his and Al's coats. "He almost did."

He wanted it all to go away. "We can find something else to talk about, can't we?" Looking into Katie's eyes he saw her grateful heart beaming. "You're away from him and he's going to prison for a very long time. A.J. Chegwidden is a good attorney.

A.J. entered the room from the adjacent camp office. "You never told me you thought I was good at anything."

Laughing Al asked, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"That's more like it. Dave and Deb invited me. I'm bunking in the lodge. Your old digs, I understand."

Al looked at Sam, "I'm not throwing anyone out of a bedroom. I can stay at the lodge."

It was her camp and her decision so Deb told him in no uncertain terms, "You're sleeping in the infirmary. There's a very nice, comfortable bed in there and one of us will be your duty nurse for the next few nights."

It wasn't over and he didn't like that fact. Too much was going on in his head. Everything was making him nervous even though everyone was treating him like family. Actually, maybe that was part of the problem. He never had family to care about him and now that he was infiltrating this group, he was apprehensive. They were so kind to him though that he didn't know how to tell them to back off a little. Things were crowding him.

Sam caught the flash of anxiety in the Admiral's eyes. "Yeah, Al, we drew straws and I lost. I get night watch." Maybe if Al realized the others wouldn't witness any nightmares, he could feel more at ease. "No one else could put up with your snoring."

And Sam was right. Al relaxed a little. "Me snore? You're the one that could wake the dead."

Winking at A.J. Sam said, "He's back to normal, unfortunately."

Katie got up and wagged her finger in Sam's face. "You leave him alone. He outranks you."

Reverting back to childhood torments, Sam grabbed his sister and started tickling her. "Maybe, but I outrank you!"

Thelma pulled them apart. "Some things never change even if they should. Now both of you go to your corners and stay there." She laughed, her face glowing with matriarchal pride. "Honestly, the two of you will be the death of me."

Deb started wandering toward the kitchen. "Well, now that we're all home, I can get dinner moving along here. I hope you're hungry, Al."

"Starving. Hospital food doesn't do much for me."

Half an hour later the dining room was filled once again. The ladies placed platter after platter of food in front of Al and he was served first making the rest of the men whine. A.J. especially got into the mood. "You know, he gets everything. Just because he's an Admiral which I still think was a mistake somewhere along the line, he gets all the attention."

Pulling rank, Al told the subordinate, "You should be used to it by now, Captain." Thelma served the Admiral a healthy portion of Brussels sprouts. "That looks great. I love Brussels sprouts."

Sam scrunched his nose. "Brussels sprouts? Mutant little cabbages."

Shaking his head Al goaded, "Wimp."

Joining in the teasing Thelma added, "All I could get him to eat when he was a boy was meat and potatoes. Anything that had color was a wasted effort on my part."

"Some people will never learn, Thelma."

They ate for what seemed like hours, but the conversation was light and happy. Lives were on the mend and no one had any complaints. They finished and it was time to gather in the living room again. A.J. asked for some private time with Al and Sam. The mood suddenly changed and everyone knew something was going on that wasn't going to be good.

Al settled into the big chair, pulling back the handle to raise the footrest. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really. It's just that we have a small bump to get over. Chuck is a jerk and he's still trying to get you."

Now Sam was feeling the same jitters that Al was trying to hide. "Get to him how?"

A.J. pulled a small notepad from his pocket. "Let me get the quote straight." He flipped through the book. "Here it is. 'Admiral Calavicci threatened me before I had a chance to say anything. He threw the first punch and I didn't know what else to do. He kept coming after me. I want him in jail for assault. I want to see him doing more time. I want him in prison again.'" A.J. put the book away. "So, the idiot maintains you were the aggressor and he fought in self-defense."

"That's a crock of shit, A.J. and you know it."

"Of course, I do. We have a witness to him stomping on you and tossing you into the water. If it were self-defense, then there would have been no need to do either since you were unconscious at the time. I wanted you to know because his attorney is trying to press charges against you."

"Charges?"

"He's just making noise. Here's the problem. I can stop the charges. That's a no-brainer, but he's released that statement to the press. It's going to be in the papers."

Al's fists clenched in anger. "Fucking asshole."

Nodding in agreement A.J. added, "At the very least."

"Al, I'm sorry. My brother-in-law is doing this to you, well, it's ridiculous. How do we combat this, A.J.?"

"We don't. If we try this in public, then it gives him more credibility."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He really said he wanted to see Al in prison?"

"'In prison again' were his exact words. Chuck wants people to assume Al was a criminal."

"Then we have to say something. He didn't go to jail, for God's sake. He was a POW."

"I'll handle it, Sam. I will simply say the allegations are not true and that the only time Al was in prison was during the war. Then we have to drop it. No comments from anyone especially you."

A.J. and Sam continued their conversation, but Al was oblivious to it all. He was back in his own head feeling energy drain from his soul. The room began to heat up for him and the humidity began to sting his eyes. It got harder to breathe. It was always hard to breathe there. The river made the air heavy and his lungs didn't ever seem to get enough oxygen. He damned himself for falling back into the old patterns. This was Indiana, a safe place, but he wasn't here. He was there. Fuck, his head was screwed up and all because some prick with shit for brains spouts off something stupid. Sam finally saw the telltale sign of Al's psychological pain.

Crouched by the chair he put his hand on Al's arm. "Listen to me, Al. No one will believe him. We all know the truth. You're here with us now. You know that, don't you?"

He knew it, but he still felt the hell of that camp by the river, the one where his cage was kept in four feet of water. "Yeah, I know. I'm not certifiable, yet."

A.J. wasn't sure what was happening. "Is he okay?"

"I'm right here, A.J."

"Sorry, Al. You look a little shook up."

He had to laugh. "That's one way of putting it." Shaking the images of the Mekong from his head was hard, but he was determined to get back to the warm home and his friends. "I'm okay. I want to answer his charges publicly."

"I'd advise against that. You don't want to give him more publicity. Just bury your need to get back at him with this. You'll get him when he's in jail for trying to kill you."

Bury his feelings again - he'd done it before. This was Katie's story anyhow and he didn't want the reason he and Chuck fought to get lost in the frenzy. "Listen to me carefully. I want you to charge him with spousal abuse as well. This isn't about me. Katie was the victim long before I horned in. You can't be forgetting her in all this."

"She and I have talked about it. The kid's pretty brave. She's going to testify against him on all charges including spousal abuse. I took pictures of the marks on her arms like I took photos of you. We have a lot of strong evidence." He wanted the Admiral to come back, "Even you could try this case and win."

There was no smile, no reaction at all. Al was lost in the past and both his friends could see the concentration on his face. He was trying to come back and not having a lot of success. Sam was still crouched at his side. "What do we need to do right now, Al?"

Try as he might, he didn't know what to tell Sam. "I haven't a clue, Sam. It's all right. I don't know why I'm getting worked up like this. Makes no sense." He put his hands over his face. "Damn it. Maybe I'm nuts. Maybe I did hit him first."

A.J. nervously said, "I didn't hear that."

With more than a little anger Sam turned and snapped. "Chuck outweighs him by nearly 100 pounds. Al didn't throw the first punch. He's smarter than that."

A defeated voice muttered, "Ninety-five." Clenching his teeth helped him control his temper. "A.J., he came at me first. I was just talking." His eyes closed. "All of a sudden I'm tired."

Sam hadn't moved from his position. "You want to rest here or should we get you into the infirmary and into bed?"

What he really wanted to do was hide. The exhaustion he felt was overwhelming, but he wasn't going to give in. He head was coming back to Indiana and he wanted to stay there. The infirmary would have to wait. "It's too early, Sam. You're like a mother hen. Cut it out, okay?" He looked his buddy in the eye. "Go away." The doctor retreated to the couch. "Now that you're comfortable, Sam, get me something to drink, okay?"

The doctor hopped to his feet. "Anything you wish, my liege."

"About time you started treating me with some respect." He found a smile and it brought him closer to being on solid ground. "Club soda if you got it."

"Not sure about the club soda, but I know there's root beer."

In his head, Al said, "Lighten up, Calavicci. Have a good time. Get back to your old self." Sam didn't hear that. Sam heard, "Root beer, nectar of the gods. Get me a glass, a big glass." Sam started out. "Lots of ice. Chill the mug!"

Sam turned back and glared at his friend. "Chill the mug? You serious?"

"I never kid about root beer."

The thought of root beer had A.J. cringing. "Root beer is syrup with bubbles."

"Your point being?"

"How old are you?"

"Last time I checked I was 52." He felt a decade older and a decade younger at the same time. "Can't say that I know why 52 seems impossible, but it does." Chuck's accusation flashed into his head again.

The Admiral's eyes told volumes of stories and A.J. had read them all. "He won't get away with it, Al. Trust me to take care of him."

"I don't need this. I really don't need this at all."

"He's not getting out of prison. If I have my way, he'll suffer in there for years and years and we'll lose the key."

A half-hearted laugh had Al agreeing, "Yeah, lose the key."

One by one more Erskines and Becketts made their way into the living room. Dave told stories on his cousin Sam that had Al taking notes. "Streaking, Sam? I didn't know you had it in you or off of you so to speak. I got to remember that one."

"Everyone was doing it."

Sam was under attack and Al was delighted. "So, kid, showing off your shortcomings?"

"Al, my sister and my mother are here! For Pete's sake."

Thelma starting shaking her finger at her son. "Don't use me as an excuse to cover your butt."

Everyone was stunned except for Al. He roared immediately at Thelma's needling. "You tell him, Thelma."

The Admiral continued laughing and Sam was more than willing to be the source of fun. He was finally seeing his old friend again. "Go ahead and laugh. It was 1970. I was only 18. What were you doing in '70?" Once again, he heard the words coming from his mouth and he couldn't stop them. "Why do I even talk? I'm sorry, Al."

"It's okay, Sam. That was a long time ago."

Jason wanted to know more. "Were you in prison then, sir?"

Dave stopped his son, "Son, that's an inappropriate thing to ask."

"Thanks, Dave, but it's all right." Al looked at the young man and told him. "Yes, I was still MIA in 1970."

The younger boy asked, "How did you get captured?"

Al said nothing and his eyes went to the ceiling, then closed as his head dropped back down. Sam tried to give him a way out. "You don't have to say anything, Al. You're here now."

"Tom asked and he deserves an answer." The boy's face was eager and full of the hope of innocence. "It's not such a dramatic thing. I was flying a mission over North Vietnam and got hit by a missile. My plane started going down so I ejected." The sound of the missile hitting his plane blasted in his head. The noise was something he'd never forget. He began to rub his right forearm. "I landed pretty hard and broke both bones in my arm and shattered my elbow and dislocated my shoulder. It didn't even hurt at first. I just couldn't get my arm to work, which would have been okay, except that meant I couldn't send up signal flares. I thought it was okay, though because my wingman saw me go down. I figured I'd hide out until they sent in a rescue chopper to pick me up, but after three days of seeing nothing. I pretty much knew I was in trouble."

Tom wanted to know more. "How long was it before they found you?"

The first day was okay. It was clear even if it was 100 degrees. The second day it started raining and it never stopped. By the third day, pain was intense and the wet jungle oppressive. He almost welcomed the VC rousting him from his hiding place. Right now, all he could bring himself to tell Tom was, "Very early morning, four days later. They walked me to their camp and that was the beginning."

The boy's eyes were wide with the intrigue of being taken captive. "Wow, and you were there six years? That's a long time."

It was easy to see that Tom was fascinated with the idea of being held captive by evil warlords. "You need to know that there is nothing noble or heroic about being MIA. Somehow this mythology has grown up over it all. I wasn't any kind of hero. I was scared every single day and they kept me that way on purpose." Hundreds of incidents flashed by his mind's eye and he could bring none to voice. He was done talking about it.

Sam noticed the fingers on Al's hand clenching and loosening over and over. It was time to change the conversation. "I need another beer. Anyone want anything?"

It was past eleven and Al was tired. "Yeah, I think I want to get some sleep." Rising from the chair took a little more effort than he wanted, but it was a very long day. "So, who's going to show me my new room?"

Deb put her hand in his and led him toward the infirmary entry at the far end of the kitchen. "Come with me."

He was Al Calavicci and certain moments would never be overlooked. Turning back to the group he teased, "This could be fun."

Without thinking Dave said, "Not with my wife." There was a roar of laughter from everyone. Realizing what it sounded like he turned crimson, "That's not what I mean." The laughter continued with more enthusiasm. "I think I'm going to stop now."

Deb was laughing harder than everyone else. "Good idea. See what you get later." Once they were in the infirmary Deb showed Al the small bedroom off to the side. "This should be very comfortable." She opened up a drawer and told Al, "I unpacked your clothes. Sam said you're meticulous about them and I just put them all away for you. I hope you don't mind."

"No, thanks a lot. I appreciate it."

Deb turned the bed down for Al. "Sam will be taking the night shift. I couldn't convince him to let someone else stay with you, but you know Sam."

"He thinks he's responsible for Chuck and me, doesn't he?"

Her smile was Al's answer, but she told him, "That's what I said. You know Sam. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Thanks. I'm fine. See you in the morning." Deb left and in five minutes, he was in bed. He was tired, but he felt good. Jason and Tom asked about Vietnam and he actually told part of his story, not much of it, but at least it was something. No one was going to hear any more of it, but at least some of it got out. Those first days were bad at the time, but he had the wisdom of hindsight now. They were easy, vacation days before the real work of staying alive began. Memory of the real work chilled his sore body. He asked for sleep and his request was kindly granted.

Half an hour later Sam came softly to Al's bedside and listened to the Admiral breathe. It was a good sound, solid, full, what he wanted to hear. He sat in the recliner three feet away from the end of the bed and tried to catch some sleep himself. It came almost as quickly as his patient's.

Those first days of captivity invaded Al's dreams. He was all Navy and gave them only what he was told to say. "Calavicci, Albert M., Lieutenant, United States Navy." But they yanked at his broken arm. He thought he understood pain before. The guard twisting his broken bones was beyond his imagination. "Fuck you!" The guard turned the bones the other direction and he swallowed the scream and started in again. "Calavicci, Albert . . ." They suspended him by the broken arm, pushing at him like kids playing tetherball. "Cala . . ."

Sam heard the sounds and knew it was happening again. Too much conversation about Vietnam brought Al into that dark room in his mind. He brought his friend back to Indiana with gentle words and the touch of a friendly hand. "Come on, Al."

The Admiral woke from his terrors. He said nothing to Sam, barely even looking at him. Al's eyes shut and he fell asleep again, well pretended to.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: All rights to this story are reserved. Neither the whole nor parts (with exception of short excerpts for review purposes) may be published elsewhere without written permission from the author. Thank you.