September 22, 1989

Dr. Sam Beckett swims around in the pool; he and the boys are clearly playing some sort of water sport. The movement of the swimmers disturbs the water.

"Okay, that's it for the day!" yells a man in his forties, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. "Everyone up out of the pool."

Sam gets up, noting the other boys getting up. This is clearly a high school natatorium.

"Bayog!" yells the coach.

The coach is clearly looking at Sam.

"Uh, are you talking to me, sir?" asks the leaper.

"Yes. I say Bayog when I want to talk to you, just like I say Johnson when I want to talk to Johnson, Tanzic when I want to talk to Tanzic, and Doyle when I want to talk to Doyle. Anyway, what was that there. You just let the ball hit you."

"Uh, school. I mean, I have to hit the books and stuff. Study for tests."

"When you joined the water polo team, you accept having to be both a top swimmer and a top student." The coach takes a deep breath. "Listen, men, I know this is the beginning of the school year. Most of you probably came back from vacations in Europe and Mexico and the Caribbean. But vacation time is over, and we have to step up our game! Go home, hang out at Del Amo Mall, play Nintendo or Sega, but when we meet Tuesday, we had better do better! Are we a bunch o' queers?"

"No, sir!" Sam and the boys yell in unison.

Sam takes a breath, following the other boys towards the locker room. He is still reeling from his freezing cold experience in the Grand Tetons, which was only minutes ago in his time. Although from the coach's mentioning of Nintendo and Sega, it would have been decades ago in this time.

The locker room looks like the ones Sam was familiar with when attending Elk Ridge High School in the late 1960's. The lockers are all made of steel. The familiar smell of warm sweat permeates the room.

He and the others pick up towels before heading to the showers. All of them are single stall, with curtains.

We didn't have single stalls in Elk Ridge.

Sam waits his turn, and then enters the stall. He turns on the water, feeling the droplets spray on his body. He enjoys the sensation of hot water, a sensation he had not felt in days. It is such a sharp contrast from the freezing cold of the Grand Tetons in February. Every second is like a vacation in tropical paradise. The leaper briefly recalls the time, maybe a few weeks ago in his time, when he met Bob Marley in 1960's Jamaica.

"People are waiting here," says a boy.

Sam turns off the water and wraps himself in a towel. "Sorry," he says.

He goes to the lockers, which are conveniently labeled by last name. He sees a locker with the letters BAYOG.

That's definitely how my name is spelled now.

He takes the padlock and combination and unlocks it. He briefly wonders how he knew the combination, but then recalls something about the leapee's physical aura interacting with his mind to know things unconsciously. Clearly, God, Fate, Time, or Whatever gave him tiny conveniences.

Sam, takes out a white long-sleeved shirt and black trousers- he clearly is in a private school of some sort where the students wear uniforms. He gets dressed, asking sure not to expose himself, though of course the boys are doing their best to avoid looking at each other.

High school again.

Finally fully dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, and black necktie, he takes one last look at his leapee's locker.

He sees something else.

It is a Polaroid photograph. Taking it, he sees a picture of a girl with a milky white complexion and loosely curled bright red hair. The leaper places the Polaroid in his shirt pocket.

He then walks out of the place, following the other boys. They walk to the front of the school, where many students are gathered. Sam notes that both boys and girls attend this school. Some of them get into cars. The leaper notes that half of the cars are luxury models like Lincolns and Mercedes and BMWs. Almost all of the license plates are California license plates. Taking a wider view, he notes there are hills behind the school, on on the hillsides are houses.

A boy with light brown hair taps Sam on the shoulder.

"Hey, Art," the boy says. "Lacey wants to talk to you."

Sam looks and sees a girl with blond hair tied in a ponytail. She wears a white blouse with a black neckerchief and a black skirt like the other girls.

"Uh, hi," says Sam.

"I have to make it quick, can't keep my stepdad waiting," says the girl. "Have you heard from Gabby?"

"Gabby?"

"Is she okay? I mean, her parents say she's fine, but.."

"I'm sure she's fine."

"See you later." She glances at the boy next to Sam. "Oh, hi, Wayne. Nice to see you again."

"Take care," replies the boy named Wayne.

Is Gabby the girl in the picture? Is she why I leaped here?

"There's your parents," says Wayne. Sam looks at an Oldsmobile station wagon. A black-haired man with a brown complexion steps out of the driver's seat.

"Get in."

"Hi, Mr. Bayog," says Wayne. "And Mrs. Bayog."

"Hi, Wayne, " says the man who is clearly the leapee's father. "How's school now that you're a junior?"

"Uh, fine, sir. I'm just glad to see Art. I mean, I know you told my folks he's okay and all, but I'm just glad to see him in person."

"You know, I started a job at Robinsons at Del Amo Mall. I'm working there Sunday afternoon; I wish Art could visit me."

Sam looks at Wayne. "I guess I'll see you at school Monday."

"Yeah, well, we scholarship kids gotta stick together."

Sam gets into the rear seat of the station wagon.

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

Gotta make you understand

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

The song from the radio stops playing.

"What?" asks Sam."I haven't heard that song in a long time."

"No radio when you're in the car," says Art's mother.

Quantum leaping through time, I've had to relive the teenage years of plenty of people. From hat I can tell, this boy Art got into some big trouble. I had this feeling that this trouble is related to the girl whose picture was in his locker.

Without the radio on, Sam looks around. The cars looks like they are from the 1970's and 1980's. The Oldsmobile slows down at a signalized intersection. From the signs hanging from the aluminum mast arms holding up the traffic signals, Sam notes they are at the intersection of Pacific Coast Highway and Hawthorne Boulevard. Art's father makes a right turn.

He looks around at the storefronts on both sides of Pacific Coast Highway. Palm trees grow- a sharp contrast to the pine and fir in the Grand Tetons. He sees a billboard for the movie The Abyss. He notes Art's parents speaking in this language that he does not understand. He notes that they pass Crenshaw and Western and Normandie and Vermont, before going under Harbor Freeway and turning left on a street called Figueroa, to get to the freeway.

They exit on a street called 223rd Street, and soon navigate local streets. They soon reach a street lined with single-level, single-family homes. He notes a girl riding a a tricycle down the sidewalk, with black hair tied in a bun.

"You can go to your room until we cook dinner," says Mr. Bayog. "You'd better read your books."

"Uh, sure."

Sam walks through the house, which looks like a typical suburban house, noticing the living room and kitchen. He walks into Art's bedroom, which looks like the typical teenage boy's bedroom. There are dressers, a closet, and a bookcase with books. A trophy is in the corner. Reading the plaque, he reads writing as ARTUR BAYOG, CHAMPION, CARSON COMMUNITY WATER POLO LEAGUE.

Time to learn about Art.

He closes the bedroom door, and sees a full length mirror. In the mirror is a boy wearing a a school uniform, looking to be about fifteen to sixteen years of age, with a brown complexion. Black hair covers the boy's head. The drawers and closet reveals clothes. Also inside the closet is a box for an Atari Video Computer System, although the box is empty.

He also comes across some pictures. One of them is clearly a twelve-year-old version of Art, wearing swimming trunks and standing by a pool.

He then sees another picture.

Art is in the picture, looking about as old as he is in the mirror. The picture had been taken in a park.

And next to him is the red-haired girl from the photo, his arm around her.

That has to be Gabby. They must be boyfriend and girlfriend. Did they break up due to whatever trouble Art's in. am I to keep these kids together?

"Back to being young again,:" says a gravelly voice.

He turns and sees Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci, the observer of Project Quantum Leap,who appears to him as a hologram Al wears a bright blue jacket and blue trousers with a blue necktie.

"Tired of a Hawaiian shirt and shorts?" asks the leaper.

"Well, I hope you've recovered from hypothermia from the last leap."

"I still can feel the chill."

Al takes out a rectangular device with colored buttons. It is a handlink allowing him to communicate with Ziggy, the master computer of Project Quantum Leap. "It was easy to find information on your host. You are Artur Bayog. He was in the American water polo team in both the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona and 1996 in Atlanta. Of course, that is years ahead of your time, which is Friday, September 22, 1989. His parents immigrated from the Philippines back in the late 1960's, married, and Artur was born in 1973 at L.A. County Harbor General, now Harbor-UCLA."

"I heard his parents were speaking this language."

"Tagalog. Well, anyway, Art participated in water sports since he was six, and when he was fourteen, he got a full scholarship to attend this exclusive high school in Torrance, California. You are living in Carson, just a few miles away. Well, Artur makes it to the Olympics without your help, so you are not here for that. And no one at his school nor their families get killed within the next few weeks."

"Gabby," he says. "I'm here for this girl named Gabby."

Sam shows Al the picture he took from Art's locker.

"I can see why he likes her."

"A picture of them together," says Sam.

"Cute couple."

"Art is in some trouble; I can tell he's grounded. And it has something to do with Gabby here."

"If I had a last name:" says the observer.

Sam looks around the room. His attention goes to the books again. He sees something, and pulls out a book.

"A yearbook," says Al.

Sam opens the yearbook. On the first page are signatures.

Junior year's gonna be radical- Wayne Tanzic

He sees another writing, surrounded by a heart.

I love you- Gabby

"I'll look to see if I can find her," says Sam, looking at the pages of sophomores- the yearbook was for the Class of 1989, and Art would be the Class of '1991,

The door opens, and Mrs. Bayog appears, wearing a simple dress.

"Dinner time," she says.

Ooooo

Sam actually likes the soup, eating it, savoring the tender beef and the green beans and the slightly sour taste, a soup that the Bayogs call sinigang.

The TV is off of course. Al looks around. In a shelf he can see some VHS tapes of Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Boy With Green Hair

"How is water polo?" asks Mr. Bayog.

"I'm a little rusty after going back to school, but I'm picking it up," replies Sam. "I'm confident I'll have a bright future."

"A bright future. We're trying to figure out a way to save your future, son. We can't let what happened ruin your life."

"Okay, I deserve what is happening to me now, but this is a learning experience. I'll learn things. I'll grow. Success comes from learning the right lessons when you mess up."

"You might not be able to recover from this," says Mrs. Bayog. "I mean, you need to know this isn't just about you. You realize how much trouble you are in, right?"

"Yeah."

"This could derail your whole life. We can't promise anything."

Sam just enjoys the sinigang. He had never had this before. He knows that Art's life will not be ruined, not when he is fated to play water polo for the U.S. In the '92 and '96 Olympics.

"Go to your room, Art," says Mr,. Bayog.

Sam goes back to the teenage boy's bedroom. Looking at the picture of the red-haired girl, he looks through the yearbook to find her last name.

Minutes later, Sam hears a door open, and sees a white rectangular light. Al steps inside the imaging chamber.

"Did you find out who Gabby is?" asks Al.

"Have Ziggy look up Gabrielle Flannigan," says Sam. "Cross reference with the school, class of 1991."

Al punches some buttons in the handlink. He then walks towards the door.

"Where are you going?" asks Al.

"To watch TV."

Al sees Art's parents in the living room, watching a Sony 24-inch color television. The channel is set to 7. A sitcom appears.

"That's Perfect Strangers," says Al.

The episode is of course eleven years old in his time, but it somehow feels new, watching it inside an imaging chamber project a neurological hologram of 1989. He laughs at Bronson Pinchots' performance, as the actor skates on a skating rink.

"I think I actually missed this episode," says the observer.

The show ends in half an hour, and Art's mother turns off the television. She and her husband speak in Tagalog. Al does not understand, though he does hear them say Gabby's name.

One of these days, we got to design a translator.

He finally walks into Art's room to see Sam.

"What did Ziggy find?"

"I watched Perfect Strangers. It was the season premiere, where Larry and Balki go to this skating rink to challenge one of Larry's romantic rivals. I must have missed it when it first aired and never watched it during a rerun.

"I'm asking about Gabby, not Larry and Balki."

"All right, all right. Too bad you're not allowed to watch TV. Gabby- Gabrielle Flannigan- was born in 1973. She was actually born in LA. County Harbor General, four days after Art was born. She's still alive in my time. She does professional photography to supplement her trust fund. Her parents made sure she was set up for life."

"So her life is fine, and Art goes to the Olympics in three years. I mean, sure they must have speed bumps in their lives, but they end up pretty much okay."

"Yeah, maybe it's something else." Al pushes more buttons on the handlink. "What's this?"

"What's what?"

"Gabby has a son in my time."

"Well, she's be about twenty...wait, I think I know where this is heading."

"She gave birth to a baby boy named Connor on December 14, 1989."

"Three months from now."

"She was only sixteen at the time."

Sam looks at Art's reflection in the mirror.

"That boy in the mirror is the baby's father."