A Promise of Home
This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit.All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.
Wishes Aren't Horses
They spent the evening trying dresses on Beth, finally settling on a red spaghetti strapped sun dress that really showed off her figure. Back at the house, Sam made a couple of sandwiches while Beth put her outift away. She came out of the bedroom holding a special piece of jewelry, a locket she planned to wear with her new dress. She showed it to Sam. "I'm going to wear this tomorrow. Isn't it beautiful?"
The locket was delicately engraved in Italian." Sam held the priceless little heart while Beth told him, "It was his last night home before he left on his second tour. He gave me the locket and we had one hell of good time."
Innocent that he was, Sam asked, "What did you do?" Beth shot Sam a glance that reeked of Al, "Oh, sorry." He smiled, "Maybe sorry isn't the right word."
Beth smiled back, "As I was saying, he gave me this locket."
A tiny scroll of lettering spiraled around the edge. Sam read with very bad pronunciation, "'I cavi della strada di voi.' That's a lot for one locket. I don't speak Italian. What does it mean?"
Taking the heart back Beth sighed, "'the road leads back to you.' It's a line from Georgia. Don't you think it will look perfect with my new dress?"
This leap was getting harder and harder. Sam had only sketchy details from Al, but one important fact had been dropped in his lap. Al was not coming home whole and with each passing minute, Beth was remembering the young pilot who went off to war and forgetting he was now a war weary prisoner held captive for years. Sam loved her excitement, but he knew he had to prepare her for the reality of Al's return. "Beth, I really hope everything will be wonderful when you see Al tomorrow, but I have a feeling he's not in such good condition. I mean, he's been MIA for eight years. I can't imagine anyone going through all that and being fine. Velez said he was okay, but he may not be as healthy as you think."
"Why do you keep saying things like that?"
Because he knew the truth and just wanted her to know as well. He decided to tell her, "Maybe I'm too much of a realist. I want him to come home to you healthy and happy as if the past eight years never happened, but you and I both know they did. That kind of experience has got to change a man. It's changed you, too."
Beth heard Sam's words, but didn't bother to listen. "No, no. Al's fine." She started out of the room.
"Come back here. You need to eat something."
Beth walked back in the room. "I guess I should." Sitting at the kitchen table, she took a deep breath to try and calm down. "This is a miracle. He's been gone for eight years. I wonder if he looks any different. Maybe his hair will be longer. I hope so. I love his curly hair."
"He's probably a lot thinner. He might even be frail. I doubt he was fed very well." Sam put the sandwiches in front of them and sat down. "I hear it can take a long time to get used to repatriation and Al's been gone eight years. I doubt his system will even tolerate regular food."
Beth took a bite of the sandwich. "I'm acting like a teenager on prom night instead of a nurse. My stomach is tied into more knots." They silently ate more of their dinner. The naievete on her face didn't change, but she told Sam, "Jane, you may think I haven't heard a word you've been saying about Al, but I have. Right now, I can't believe anything other than he's in perfect condition. I have to have some time here where my fairy tale is true. You know, Someday My Prince Will Come? Well, my prince is coming tomorrow and tonight I'm Snow White."
Her gentle, sweet explanation made all the sense in the world. Sam had to hug her. "Al found his one true love in you, Beth. You're the reason he's alive. He loves you more than he loves anything and now I know why. You're wonderful."
"So are you. I'm so glad you moved in here,"
Sam could feel tears falling from Beth's eyes. He pulled back and joked, "Hey, you're getting me all wet. Finish eating and try to get some sleep. You want some warm milk?"
"Warm milk? Yuckola." Sam laughed wondering who came up with the silly word first. Beth told him, "I'll eat the sandwich, but no warm milk. There's a lot to do yet. I have to get some of Al's clothes out even if they don't fit him. He has to know they're here waiting for him. I have to know it, too. So there's laundry to do. I have to get clean sheets out to change the bedding in the morning."
He wanted to tell her not to worry, that Al would be spending the next night and six months more of nights in the hospital, but the image of Snow White waiting for her Prince was still in his mind's eye. His own emotions were conflicting. Al had to help him on this one and Al chose to disappear hours earlier. Hoping that his holographic friend would seek him out if he were alone, Sam announced, "Beth, I want to go for a walk. Do you mind?"
Beth was humming her Disney tune. "No. In fact, I'd kind of like a little private time, too. Be careful."
"Okay, Mom." Sam gave her one last quick hug and walked outside of the bungalow. He started down the street trying to sort out the problems he was likely to find. About a block from the small home, he saw the Imaging Chamber door open and Al came to his side. Sam scolded, "Where the hell have you been?"
He just didn't want to hear it. "If I had a dollar for every time you've asked me that, I could retire."
The time traveler was miffed. "Al, this is really hard. Beth thinks you're going to run down the steps of that plane tomorrow morning, pick her up in your arms, kiss her till you both drop and then go make love for a few days or more. She isn't ready at all for what you told me."
"I know it, Sam. I wasn't ready either. I figured nothing could be better than coming home. It would have been better for both of us if she met a body bag."
The trime traveler was still miffed. "That's a pleasant picture. Al, she's going around the house singing Someday My Prince Will Come."
For the first time during this entire leap, Al smiled. It was a warm smile as a cherished memory floated back. "Beth loves Disney movies. I think we sat through Dumbo three times one night and she cried each time." The recollection put an easy calm on his weary shoulders, "Then she sang the songs over and over. She's got a pretty voice, Sam. I could listen to her for hours." Al tried to jar the thoughts of his happiness out of his mind, but he had to talk about Beth to someone and Sam was the best person as well as the only person available. "What do you think of her, Sam?"
Questions like that were usually hard to answer, especially if you had to fabricate a story, but in this case, the truth was easiest and exactly what Al wanted to hear. "She's wonderful. She's so pretty and smart. I'm really going to like her, when I meet her, I guess in 1985."
"If you meet her." Al played with the handlink.
Sam hated having to drag information out of Al. It occurred most often when Al was uncomfortable and this situation had to be one of the most uncomfortable he'd ever experienced. "Okay, I know this is hard on you, but exactly what am I supposed to do here and why does it have anything to do with my meeting Beth in 1985?"
"Do remember meeting Beth?"
In all honesty, "Other than during that leap, no. I figured it's the Swiss cheese thing."
"It's not." The next words stopped in his throat and he had to spit them out one at a time. "You never meet her because we got divorced the year after I got home."
Sam's heart stopped beating and only when it decided to come back to life did he get the strength to say, "Al, I've never seen anyone so much in love in my life. She thinks the world revolves around you. This woman really has your number, too. She is not blind to your few but very real faults." It was an attempt to lighten the mood that didn't work. Sam continued. "Okay. I give up. You and Beth get divorced. Why?"
Al couldn't lie very well to Sam. Other than Beth, he was the only person that forced the truth out of him. "You've met Beth and you know me. If you had to choose which one screws up, who would you choose?"
"Don't do this to me."
He had an agenda and paying attention to Sam wasn't on it. He just kept going in the only way he could. "Yeah, you're right. I dump her."
"Why? That makes no sense. You always tell me Beth was the one and only true love you ever had. Why would you dump her?"
Al walked ahead, stopped at a park bench and looked up at his friend. "Come over here and sit down. I want to watch a movie."
"I don't have time for movies,"
"This is a short subject." He laughed, "I made a joke. The movie is about me. I'm short. Get it?" Sam hadn't moved yet. The Calavicci short temper flared. "I said, sit down. Time to watch a little epic of inconsequential importance."
Al had a language of his own and sometimes Sam didn't catch on as quickly as he should. There was something Al wanted Sam to see and an invitation to a movie was his way of asking him to take a look. The hologram positioned himself to sit down on the bench and Sam joined him. Al punched a few buttons and a beam of light projected out. Still trying to give Al some respite from the pain Sam kidded, "You bring popcorn?"
There was absolutely no sign from Al that he heard Sam's comment. "A few minutes before I came back, I had Ziggy center me on Bingo." Al punched a few buttons on the handlink and projected an image of a young Navy pilot on his way home. "I don't remember the medic, but the guy fussing over me, he's Dwight Robertson, a commander, a real good guy."
The Navy personnel carrier wasn't the most elegant of airplanes. Dwight Robertson and a third man were together in a small alcove cordoned off by a makeshift privacy screen. Al was strapped down on a small stretcher, an IV feeding fluid and medication into him. Robertson sported a sling to support a broken arm. The other man checked Al's IV "There. That should help ease his pain." He patted Al's shoulder "Hang in there."
Ziggy zoomed in. To Sam's horror, Al's face was sunken to the bone. The marks of his last beating still showed. Pain was evident in small, weak whimpers. Commander Robertson put his hand on Al's. "Hey, Bingo, can you believe it? We're almost home. You keep thinking about that pretty wife of yours." The plane suddenly dropped a little, not anything to bother a man, but it was enough to force a gasp of pain sound out. "Damn it, Bingo. You hold on."
Al's physical condition wasn't hard to evaluate. Sam saw a skeletal human being looking like a concentration camp survivor. The mass of emaciation spoke softly, but the words didn't come easily. "Commander, I'm sorry, but I'm cold." The short speech was too much exertion and the pain of the trip showed in his vacant eyes.
Dwight took a damp cloth and wiped Al's face. "It's the fever. Not much longer Bingo. You'll be in an American hospital and you'll get well. I know it. You have to."
The medic felt Al's forehead. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Commander Robertson. I think he's losing the battle."
Robertson fumed, "Shut up, Ensign. Bingo's going to be fine," He turned back to Al. "Don't listen to this nozzle. He doesn't know you like I do. You're going to come through this. The worst is over. In just a few more hours, you'll be with Beth." A moan of pain was Al's answer.
The handlink images faded away. "You think we can get an Oscar for most depressing documentary?" Sam had no words. Al stared at the ground. "Robertson was the only one convinced I'd make it. I didn't even think I'd live. I'm not sure I wanted to." There was a long silence. Finally Al turned to Sam, "Speechless, huh?" It took a moment for Al to see the tears in Sam's eyes. "Don't do that."
Sam buried his head in his hands. "Why didn't you tell me Tom's squad was supposed to rescue you? God, I never meant for anyone, least of all you, to get hurt."
"Every action we take has a consequence. Most of them we can't track. This time, it's not so hard. We don't even need Ziggy." Sam's silent tears kept coming. "Listen, I chose to stay behind because I knew Beth wasn't going to wait for me. Then you had to see yourself in that stupid mirror in Cokesburg, and you changed Beth's and my history. I have to live with the consequences of both leaps, Beth waiting for me and my staying in Nam for five more years. The bottom line is I made these decisions."
Wiping his face, Sam sat back and looked straight into Al's eyes. "Tell me that now."
He filled Sam's request with a strong powerful gaze. "I made the decisions. Don't beat yourself up. It doesn't help anything here. We have this leap to deal with."
Realizing Al wasn't going to go any further, Sam got back on track. "Are you finally going to tell me what I'm supposed to do?"
Al played with the handlink, "Beth and I have some trouble adjusting over the next three days. If we don't get ourselves straightened out, we'll end up divorced. It's my fault, Sam. I push her away from me."
The agony ripping Al's heart was tearing Sam apart. "Do you remember why you pushed her away? I mean, Bingo is in real bad shape right now. He's not thinking straight. Do you have any idea what's going on in his mind?"
"I don't really know. All I remember is thinking I was going to be an invalid. You know, I hate that word. Invalid. If you accent the second syllable, it turns into another word and that's how people treat you, like you're invalid. That's what I felt like, an invalid person. Beth didn't deserve that."
"So you threw your marriage away?" As soon as he said the words, Sam regretted it. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"But it's true, Sam. I threw it away. I wasted eight years of her life, twelve really. She deserved better. I don't know why you leaped in here. Giving her up was the right thing to do," A new thought went through his head, more than a thought, actually. It was nearly a revelation and his mood shifted 180 degrees. "Maybe you can convince Beth to leave me before an entire year goes by. I bet that's it, Sam. You can give her an extra year." A stabbing pain made him wince.
But Sam had turned and didn't hear or see the Admiral's hands go to his head. "I can't believe I'm here to drive Beth away from you. That leap I made into Cokesburg was a one time chance I got to correct the biggest mistake I ever made. I'm not going to sit by and watch you ruin your life. I can't do that, Al. You deserve to be happy and have a dozen little Calaviccis running around." He said a short thank you to whomever for allowing him to remember that leap so long ago, "Remember Theresa Bruckner? We were there for two days and that four year old fell in love with you. You were magic. It's your destiny to be a husband to Beth and the father of her children. Al, let me make this work."
They sat there without saying a word for several minutes. Both men were searching the deepest recesses of their brilliant minds to find an answer to this dilemma. Hope was the clue to it all, but as much as Sam looking for it, Al was trying to bury it. Finally, Al broke the silence. "I want to be with her, Sam, but she's only going to have a lot of pain if she stays with me,"
"She loves you and for eight years she lived with the pain of not knowing if you were alive or dead. In the few hours I've known her, I've seen a woman of tremendous strength. Right now, Bingo needs her and the strength she can give him."
His headache was tight and driving arrows through his brain. "I survive."
Sam had the confrontational tenacity of a pit bull. "Since when has survival been enough for you? You need life more than any person I've known." On the edge of epiphany, he demanded, "Al, I want you to really listen to me now."
The Observer started to cringe. "Sam, stop it!' he pushed his palm against his forehead in an attempt to force the pain away.
"No. You have to hear me." The upcoming admission was hard. "I used to think I had a hard life, being smart and shy, having my brother die in Vietnam, my dad dying young and I was so proud I rose above it all. Then I meet you and you're not in such good shape. You were drinking a lot and you were about the moodiest man I'd ever met. I couldn't figure how you managed to become an Admiral. So, l thought I'd work my magic and transform you. You stopped drinking and I was very proud. Unfortunately, I was proud of me." With sarcastic self-mocking he continued, "I stopped your drinking, you know. You had nothing to do with it." He sighed at the conceit of it all. "Damn, why did you let me take credit for that? Stopping drinking had to be one of the hardest things you've ever done."
The kind of crap Sam was slinging made him nervous and beyond uncomfortable. As he typically did, he threw away any recognition he earned. "You do deserve the credit. There was no reason for me to stop until you gave me one."
He shook his head. "I'm not sure that's true. You faced the world in all its most ugly forms all your life and still, you have hope, incredible creativity and spontaneity. Beth told me your IQ is 157, well into the genius level, but your real genius is in being able to live, not just survive, but live life as it is meant to be lived. No one comes close to you in that. Without you, I'd be dead by now. Without you, Beth will be dead. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. Can you really be responsible for that death?"
Al buried his face in his hands hoping to hide his distress. "You don't know how much I hurt her by coming back beat up like that. The look in her eyes scared me more than anything I'd seen in my life. You don't understand, Sam. Beth can't deal with what happened to me there and if she doesn't want to, then I don't want her to. She couldn't bring herself to even touch me."
It was a genuine surprise to him and he couldn't imagine it true. "She didn't touch you? At all?"
"Not at first. Then she'd mostly keep her distance. She never slept with me again, even after I came home to the bungalow. I'm not talking about sex. I mean she never lay down next to me. It was a bad year, a real bad year." Enough was enough and he reached the edge. Hesitantly, he said, "Sam, I got to go. I'm real confused here and apparently, so is Ziggy." He bashed the side of the handlink. It let out a yelp. "I don't know, Sam. I don't have anything for you, here. You're on your own."
Sam got nervous. "Are you going to come back?"
Al's hand went to his face and then through his hair. "Yeah, I guess, if I can get rid of this headache. I feel like shit."
"You look like shit, too. Go take some aspirin and then get some sleep."
Al stood up and almost fell. "God damn it." The white door appeared and Al disappeared.
Sam's gut did flip-flops. He'd been in leaps that were more dangerous, leaps where he had to kill or be killed, where he held lives in his hands. This certainly wasn't like that. This leap, in some ways, was more difficult. Al was going to live and so was Beth. Sam was here to make their lives better, but how? Not knowing the people he leaped into made everything easier. It was even easier when he leaped into himself, but now, he was an insider involved in the most intimate situation Al and Beth would ever confront. If he screwed up, he would never forgive himself and each time he saw Al, he'd be reminded of it.
He walked up the steps and entered the house. Beth was sitting on the couch where Sam had found her after the leap from Cokesburg. She even had Ray Charles playing. Georgia filtered through the air and the lights were low. Beth held an envelope in her hands, staring at the address. She glanced up at Sam. "Did you have a nice walk?"
"It was fine. How about you? Did you get everything done?"
The immensity of Al's return finally hit Beth. "Not really. I don't think I can."
Sam sat next to her. Curiosity got the better of him. "What's that?"
"The last letter Al sent from Vietnam. I never read it."
He took the letter from her and as she said, it was unopened. "Why?"
"As long as I didn't open it, I could pretend it just came. Sometimes, I would drop it in my mailbox before I left for work and I'd forget I put it there. When I got home, I'd find it and for a fraction of a second, Al wasn't missing. Silly, huh?" Sam thought it a perfect reflection of the truest kind of love. "I've been sitting here since you left trying to get up the courage to open it finally." Beth stared at the letter in Sam's hand. "I know, you open it and read it to me."
An uncomfortable queasy feeling came over Sam. "No, Beth, this is probably really personal between you and Al. I shouldn't be reading it."
"If you don't, then I won't." She had a silly blush, "For some reason, I can't open it. Please, help me with this."
With an odd dread in his heart, Sam tore open the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper. He unfolded the eight-year-old document. Sam started reading. "January 25, 1967."
She gasped. "That's the day before his plane was shot down. Oh, God."
Sam took a deep breath, knowing how unhappy Al would be that Sam was privy to these most private thoughts. "My Dearest Beth, The fighting here gets heavier and heavier every day. Two days ago, Chip was shot down by a SAM missile. I watched his plane explode in front of me. Five seconds later and the missile would have hit me instead. It's hard to see my friends disintegrate and fall to earth in unrecognizable pieces. Each time I climb into the cockpit of my A-4 I wonder if I'll come back. You're the only reason I will survive this war. I promise not to sign up for another TDY after this. I've had enough. I believe in serving my country and in the Navy, but something here isn't right. I don't know what it is, but it's not right."
Sam stopped to take a breath. He didn't see Al come through the Imaging Chamber door, returning to his home. The Admiral walked the edge of the room, trying to stay out of sight.
Sam bit down hard on his lip and continued to read. "I spend hours wondering if my being here does any good. All I do is drop bombs and kill people from far enough away that I don't have to watch them die. How many children have I murdered? How many orphans have I created? I love flying, Beth. It's a perfect freedom, but how can this kind of flying be honorable? I'm sorry. You don't need to hear this from me. I know you're not having such a good time either. Working in the burn ward at Balboa must be hard. When we send a man home in bad shape, I say a prayer that he'll be lucky enough to have you care for him."
Al crouched down so he could look into Beth's face. Her innocence was going to explode in less than 12 hours. He wanted to memorize the love he saw in her eyes.
Sam continued, ignorant of the audience across the room. "Every night I go to sleep imagining we're together at the bungalow, listening to Ray Charles, dancing in the dark. You hold me and I feel safe and protected from all the ugliness in the world. I will come home to you. Don't forget that. I promise I will come home.
"It's getting late, Beth. I'm going to need some sleep. Tomorrow's mission is going to be hard after watching Chip die. I love you more than life. Forever, Al."
Beth wiped a tear from her eye. Sam did so as well before saying, "There a second page here. It looks like a poem."
"He used to send me poetry every once in awhile. Go ahead, read it."
The Admiral looked to heaven and pleaded to God not to let Sam read the kinds of words he wrote in his poetry. Hell, he didn't want Sam to know he read the damn stuff let alone wrote it. Lately, though, God wasn't listening much to Al Calavicci. Lately? Make that ever. So it wasn't a surprise when Sam began.
"Her
fingers danced,
She
smelled of us
And
the night
Her
heart gave rhythm
To
undefined notes
Of
improvised music.
"Give
her your aching
And
you will never look
To
be born again.
"I
tasted her warmth.
I
cried in her passion.
Why
would this danger
Feel
so safe?
"So
we lay together
And
our fingers danced
To
improvised music."
Sam shook his head, "I never knew Al wrote poetry."
Al remained unseen and unheard until, "To quote Eugene O'Neill, - no relation to Janie, by the way - 'I'm like the guy who's always panhandling for a smoke. He hasn't got the makings. He's only got the habit.' That's from Long Day's Journey into Night."
Oblivious to her husband's presence, Beth told Sam, "Al doesn't show people that side of him very often. I don't know why. He's got talent as a writer. There are times though, that he talks in the biggest circles I've ever heard and it takes forever to catch what he's trying to tell me."
Sam looked at Al. "Oh, so that's an old habit."
Fortunately, Beth didn't hear him. She was too involved with her thoughts. "Janie, would you do me another favor? Would you come with me tomorrow?"
Al sighed in relief, "Say yes, Sam. Jane didn't go the first time."
"Sure."
"Oh, my God!" Beth stood up amazed at her stupidity. "I haven't called my parents yet. I haven't called mom and dad. I'll be right back." Beth ran out of the room to make her call.
Sam looked up at his friend, "So, did you get along with the in-laws?"
Al smiled a little. "They're great. It was like being in a real family. We had holidays and everything. Beth and I spent our first Thanksgiving with her parents, her brother and sister. Mom, her mother made pumpkin pie. That was the first time I ever had pumpkin pie. I mean, my parents, well, you know. Then when Christmas came along, we were with her family again and we sang Christmas carols. Can you picture that? Straight out of Father Knows Best and I was there and a welcome part of it all. Sam, it may not seem like much to you, but for me, it was a whole new world and I wasn't outside it. I was a part of it. All I ever really wanted was some sense of normalcy and I had that with Beth's family."
"They're your family, too, Al." In an attempt to convince his friend to fight for the life he'd earned, Sam said, "You know, you can't have what you won't fight for."
"I fought my entire life. I'm tired. I don't think there's any fight left in me."
"So you're making a choice to be unhappy."
Frustration was building, "Why do you twist everything I say?"
"I'm just looking at things from a different angle." There was an awkward silence. "Okay, you must have come back for a reason."
"Ziggy says Jane didn't go tomorrow. You already changed history."
Seeing the severe exhaustion in Al's face, and hoping a change of subject would help Sam asked, "How's your headache?"
"Almost as bad as Bingo's." The handlink blipped and door shut behind Al.
Georgia on my Mind (c) Hoagy Carmichael and Stuart Gorrell
