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 Seven - Indiana Snow

Twelve inches of snow greeted the morning. Almost everyone was outside shoveling a path to the lodge and the garage where there was a snowplow available to help A.J. get to Ft. Wayne. Al wasn't allowed to help, so he sat inside by the window watching, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Occasionally Sam or A.J. or Jason or someone would catch his eye and he'd nod, pretending to be happy to be away from the work. In truth, he wanted to be there, a part of the event rather than a spectator.

Thelma came into the living room wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. "Looks like they're having a good time."

"They can continue to do so. It's nice and warm in here."

Thelma sat across from him on the couch. "How are you doing this morning?"

He had total recall of his meltdown and it humiliated him. Shaking his head, he apologized. "I'm sorry. I have no clue what got into me last night. I don't . . ." he fumbled for the words, "I . . . I don't cry."

"You don't? Why not?"

"Doesn't do any good. Won't change anything. Things aren't any different." He smiled at the only living human being to witness his tears. "I could go on."

"You're so much like Sam."

That was laughable and he did just that. "Me? Like Sam? I don't think so. He's much more put together than I am."

"Both of you tilt at windmills." She patted the couch. "Come sit here."

Thelma was treating him like her child and it added to his embarrassment, but he crossed the room and sat there as instructed. She took his hand and he smiled again as he told her, "Thelma, I'm not a kid, anymore. I don't need to be fussed over."

"Nonsense. Of course you need fussing over." She held his hand tighter. "There's so much you need to let go of, Al. Not forget. Lord knows you could never forget what happened and it's not a good idea to forget anyhow. I was thinking about Tom a lot after last night. From what we know, he was killed immediately. He probably didn't even see it coming. I wish he had come home, but if the war had to take him, I'm glad that's the way it did."

Al heard her starting to sniffle a bit, tears for her son. He didn't know what to say but he tried. "I guess that's not much consolation though."

"But it is. No one should bear the kinds of scars you bear. You suffered such evil for so long. I wouldn't want that for Tom. Seeing what they did . . ." and her tears began. "And you don't need an old lady crying on your shoulder."

"I wish you hadn't seen the scars. I don't know how you managed to touch them. They're ugly."

"They're terribly ugly, but they aren't you. Don't get confused, Al. Ugly things have happened to you in your life, but you are strong and handsome, good, smart, and caring. Despite all the horrible things you've lived with, you stayed pure in your heart."

Al wasn't buying it. It was almost funny to him. "You sure you're talking about me?"

"I know I am. I owe you, Albert Calavicci. You have saved my children, both of them. To me, you will always be a hero for things that have nothing to do with war or sailing into space. Your heroism comes from deep inside you and you can try to deny that it's there, but those of us who love you know the truth. Someday, if you're lucky, you'll know it too."

The truth was hard to hear. It meant he had a new kind of responsibility. "I don't want to be anyone's hero. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but heroes are cut from other cloth. I'm an orphaned slum kid who knew how to pick pockets before knowing how to ride a bicycle. That's all. Everything else is just stuff that got thrown at me. The only thing I did was survive."

Thelma wasn't going to change his mind in their few minutes of conversation. "Someday, dear, you'll know better. Just let me know when you finally understand the truth. It will make me very happy, okay?"

There was nothing in his head to say. She was wrong, but somehow she believed what she told him. It was all gibberish as far as he was concerned. His tender feelings for Thelma were being pushed aside by his own twisted perception of his place in the world. He didn't like hearing her words. They should have been comforting. They were meant to be comforting. Thelma was a lovely woman and there was no doubt she cared for him, but he couldn't hear her words right now. They hurt almost as much as the nightmares.

The open room started closing in and in minutes his head would be somewhere other than Indiana. It couldn't happen again with Thelma. His pride was getting in the way. No one was supposed to know about his pain. It was bad enough Sam and A.J. knew, but guys were different. They didn't talk about stuff. Now Thelma knew. She acted like a mother. He didn't comprehend the concept well and now that he was getting a taste of it, it felt odd and off. It was something he always wanted, but it felt wrong. He didn't need mothering. After decades of mistrust, he didn't want any mother or mothering. The muscles in his back tensed and he had to get away. Running away worked in the past. Time to try it again.

"I think I'm going to see how the work is going outside. They need some supervision, don't you think?" He was off the couch even before he finished his sentence. Before Thelma had a chance to say anything, his coat was in his hands and before it was on his back, he was out the door in the cold wet of the morning. The chill felt good. No way he could mistake this snowy place for Vietnam. This was snow and cold and ice and he wanted to run. Before he heard a thousand reasons not to from half a dozen people, he took off.

Sam turned to see the Admiral disappearing, darting into the woods where it would be too easy to get lost. He stuck the shovel in the snow and took off to catch up with his friend. The trees were thick and Sam followed the trail Al left in his wake. Finally, he found his friend, but he stood back. The Admiral was out of breath from the run and the ache in his body. His hands rested on his knees and he panted. Sam still let Al stand alone because he didn't know what to say, but that didn't matter when Al dropped to his knees.

Snow is a terrific muffler of sound and Sam didn't want to startle the Admiral. From twenty yards away he called out, "Al, you okay?"

The Admiral didn't turn, but his head slowly nodded. Running shouldn't have been hard, but Al wasn't done healing yet and he felt it. His hands tightened over his gut trying to keep the aches from growing into real pain. It seemed to work. Sam saw the movement and concern superseded anything else. He got to Al's side as quick as the foot deep drifts allowed. The Admiral held a hand up to halt any contact. "Don't."

"Let's go back to the house."

Before the question was completed, the answer popped out. "No." Finally looking at his friend, Al repeated, "No, not yet." He rose and took a few more steps and leaned his back against a tree. "Sam, don't even start."

"I wasn't going to."

He looked off into the deep woods. "Tell me something. Why do we want Quantum Leap? And I don't mean advancing science. We could do that a million other ways, all a lot easier and cheaper. Why go back and change personal histories?"

"To make someone's life better, safer. Give a person a better chance."

"Isn't that arrogant? I mean, who are we to determine how someone's life can be improved? It's not like I have a lot of experience with making my life better."

Sam spoke quietly to the Admiral. The words were thinly veiled, but the Al was too unfocused to realize Sam's intention. "I think we can help someone believe in his self worth, (11:35:02 PM)believe he is loved and deserves to be. Sometimes people have a hard time believing that it's okay to have others love them, help them, even protect them." The science would enable them to do so much, but leaping wasn't what Sam was going to talk about. "Quantum Leap can give second chances so a man can understand that the present and future are what counts." (11:37:42 PM)

The Admiral wasn't convinced, but he wanted to be. Despondently, he started to realize Sam was talking about him. It was time to say something, something he'd never said before, but Sam was his friend and someone had to hear him. "When I think about the future, when I look forward, it's exciting and I think I might be doing something, finally be part of something that could have lasting value." He forced himself to look into his Sam's eyes. It was hard and took all the courage he could find. "But when I look back all I see are these chains trying to keep me down." He gulped in air as if it were water for a thirsty man. " (11:46:43 PM)Trouble is, every time I fuck up, I look back to figure out why I fucked up and all I see are those chains getting bigger and heavier." With all the daring his soul could muster he stood directly in front of Sam, his eyes cold and furious. "Right now everything is exploding into nightmares and meltdowns. (11:56:55 Sometimes it hurts so bad that I don't know how I'll get through it. For some stupid reason, I always seem to believe I will, that I'll find the right path." The anger softened a little. "But I never can figure out where the path was in the first place or how I got off it."

Sam listened and said, "I lose the path a lot of the times too. Usually, you point me in the right direction. I tell you what, when I'm lost, I'll let you guide me. When you think you might be lost, maybe I can help you."

"You want to tie yourself to me like that? This is going to be a long trip."

Sam smiled a little, "Like it hasn't been already." Tears welled in his eyes.

The Admiral smiled a little, too. "First thing, Sam, you got to stop with the tears. You cry like a little girl."

A thumb and forefinger wiped the wet from his eyes. "Yeah, well. Some things are worth crying over. You're on that list for me."

Enough talking had been done. The Admiral's old sarcasm was back. "Oh, yippee." Somehow, though, Al felt calm, calmer than he had been in days, maybe even weeks. "I guess this talking crap might do some good. Knowing you, there's no turning back for me now, is there."

"Well, Dad always told us that when God closes one door, he opens another."

"Yeah, but it's the fucking hallways that get you into trouble, kid, those fucking hallways."

Sam didn't expect that answer and it took him off guard. He laughed so loud snow dropped from a branch above him dropping a wet glop of the stuff right on his head. Al's high-pitched laugh made Sam laugh even more.

The Admiral helped Sam brush the snow off his back. "Now it's time to go back to the house."

They walked back in silence and when they arrived at the house, Thelma was on the porch watching everyone still trying to clear a path. Sam retrieved his shovel from the snow bank where he left it. Al started toward Thelma, but he stopped at the bottom of the steps. He looked at Thelma with a fiendish look in his eyes. She smiled back. "What are you up to, Al?"

His actions spoke louder than his words could at that moment. Reaching down, he grabbed a huge handful of snow and packed it. The former college baseball pitcher used his winning style to heave the snowball at Sam. It smacked its target right on the shoulder. Sam spun around and saw Al and his mother pointing and laughing.

"Got you, Beckett!"

The war was on. In seconds no one was shoveling. Snowballs were being thrown at everyone and even Thelma wasn't left out. Sam made a small sphere to toss at her. She laughed at the ball of snow decorating the front of her coat. "Samuel John Beckett, you will be punished for this!" Suddenly, Thelma became a target and it seemed like hundreds of the little white playthings came her way.

Always an officer and a gentleman, Al stepped in to protect her from the onslaught. His back was to the group when someone tossed a snowball that was a bit bigger and heavier. It hit the bruise over his kidney and his face screwed up in pain, but only Thelma saw what happened. With an attempt at a smile he said, "Damn, that hurt."

Thelma waved her hands at the rest of the winter warriors. "Go back to shoveling. A.J. has to get out of here sometime this century." They all obeyed without knowing why she stopped them. She gently led Al into the house. "Should I call Sam?"

"No, no, no. It just stung a little more than I thought it should. I guess I'm not as far along as I hoped I was." He hung up his coat. "I think I'm going to change. I got a little wet out there."

"Why don't you use the Jacuzzi again?"

"Ah, Thelma Beckett, you are a wise woman." He started toward the infirmary, but halfway there he stopped and looked at his hostess. "You know earlier, you wanted me to let you know when I understood the truth. I don't know if I will ever know the truth about who I am, what I am. I'm not even sure I want to know, but if it happens, I'll be sure to call you first. I promise."

"Thank you, Al. It's nice to know you have hope." She hung her wet scarf on the coat hook in the hall. "Now go jump in that Jacuzzi before the rest of them want time in it."

He winked at her, "You're a wicked woman, Thelma Beckett. I like wicked women."

She winked back. "So I've heard tell."

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Lunchtime came and went. Sam and Al were in the living room watching the sun trying to peek through the gray snow clouds. Al had to bring it up. "We got to be back on the road. We've been out of DC a week already."

"I was thinking about that last night. I'm not sure we have time to get to Chicago and then back to Washington."

"Now, I was thinking about that. We could do it if we drove to Chi and flew back. Might be better for me anyhow not to be bouncing in a car for days on end. This snow is going to keep us here another day at least."

Sam knew that this trip was not the most entertaining or relaxing experience for either of them, but at least he had the comfort of family and a home he was familiar with. "I'm sorry, Al. This hasn't been what we hoped it would be."

There was no denying Sam's words. The measles he caught at age 46 had more entertainment value. "Between two nights in the hospital and the nightmares it's been a joy."

The week had gone by too fast and furious. Chuck's arrest was a nightmare itself, but one that seemed weeks, if not months old. Sam offered a plan. "How about we stay here another day or so and then we drive Katie back to Great Lakes. We can get a Navy transport to fly us back a day before the committee meets again. Remember the committee?"

"How can I forget? We need to do some work on the project. First, we have been negligent in calling Janet. She needed to hear from us almost daily."

"I think she may be aware that we've had other issues to deal with."

"Right, even more reason to call her and let her know we are still capable of pulling this off. Damn, why didn't I think of this before? We have to call today. Can we use Dave's office?"

"Yeah, I'm sure we can."

"Go ask." He started toward the infirmary. "I got her private number in my book."

Sam took a sip of his beer. "I bet."

As he walked into the kitchen he laughed at his friend. "Smart ass."

He was just out of the room when Jason and Tom came in from the cold looking pretty dejected. They looked at their cousin Sam and sighed. Jason told him, "There's no way we could even start to look for the Admiral's ribbons. The water is way too cold and we don't even know where Chuck threw them in."

Tom added. "Chuck could have thrown them anywhere. I don't think we'll ever get them."

Sam knew it was a pipe dream, but he had asked the boys to see if there might be a way to retrieve the ribbons that declared Al's devotion to his country. "Thanks, I appreciate you trying."

Tom looked terribly sad, "I'm sorry. He shouldn't have to lose those. That stinks."

The description was pretty accurate. "Yeah, it does stink. Listen, don't let him know I asked you to look. He doesn't need to know."

Five minutes later Sam and Al were in the office and on the phone with Senator Summerfield. It was decided that Al would do the talking since he knew the Senator well enough to call her Janet. "I'm fine. The guy is huge and I'm not so huge so it was pretty obvious he was going to beat the crap out of me, but Sam's a doctor and they have a pretty complete infirmary here."

He waited as she spoke. "When the news here broke the story, they didn't know if you were okay or not. At first I thought he'd killed you."

"Nowhere near killed me. I was my crabby self even before the cops arrived."

Janet was worried for her friend, but as head of the committee, she had 43 billion dollars to consider. "Aside from being concerned about you, Quantum Leap would have been scrapped. You know that don't you?"

"There would be no reason to do that even if I did something that stupid. The project centers on Dr. Beckett, not me."

"But the money centers on you. I think the Committee is going to want to review you medical records on this incident, Al. They want to know you'll be there for the duration."

He looked at Sam and whispered, "They want my medical records from this." His attention returned to the telephone conversation. "Come on, Janet. Are they that uptight? I'm fine. You know me. If I had a dime for every time someone thought I should be dead, I'd be able to fund Quantum Leap on my own."

She had to laugh and admit, "Probably so, but they're going to demand it and I support that decision. Get them to me soon and we might still be able to make the decision next week."

Al looked at Sam whispering again. "Cross your fingers." The opening to ask about O'Reilly just presented itself. "You think you can get unanimity with O'Reilly? He's not my biggest fan."

Janet knew exactly what Al was really saying. "I could tell. And yes, Al, he will be replaced on the committee by the end of today. It's done."

"Janet, if you weren't married and I hadn't vowed never to marry again, I'd propose to you right now."

"You are something else, Al. Send me your documents as soon as you can. We'll do this. I promise I will do my best."

"I'm depending on you, Janet." They said their good-byes and Al thought a few moments. "I still think we got it, but if we don't, it's because they don't think I'm healthy enough to support you. I'm sorry, Sam."

It's not your fault, Al, and I think we'll get it. Your record shows you got every test under the sun and everything is fine."

"I hope so, Sam. I hope so." He started out of the office, but Sam didn't move. "You coming?"

"Not yet. I want to call a friend of mine. Haven't talked to him in years. I'll be out in a minute." Al left Sam alone and the physicist dialed the number he memorized. He waited until the receiver was lifted on the other end. "Hello, this is Sam Beckett. Sorry to call you, but I have a situation here and I'd like your help, if possible."

Out in the living room, Al was engaged in the telling of tales. Jason and Tom were a fresh audience and the stories of piloting for NASA were some of the Admiral's fondest memories and he had a practiced storyteller's skill in relating the accounts.

Sam found the boys literally at Al's feet and he ran to find a camera. It was a priceless moment and he wanted a record of it for Jason's and Tom's sakes. He was glad these two young men had Al in their lives now. They would have a hero to look up to, a real life, flesh and blood human being, a hero they'd seen in action. It had to be photographed.

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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.