High Hopes

High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

William Carter reached out to take his daughter?s skis and stow them away. Becky-Lou held on to them grimly, but her expression was still unfathomable. She chewed her lower lip.
Sam took a stab in the dark, hoping that if he wasn?t right, at least he?d get a clue as to the correct diagnosis from the form of her denial.
?Crisis of confidence?? he asked her, with the empathic perspective of one who had recently been there himself.
?You could say that.? She answered softly, apologetically.
?Come on, you two, time to go home.? Urged Mrs. Parnell. ?Maybe if you?re both feeling stronger tomorrow, we could manage a celebratory trip to the Opry. What d?you say, Will??
?Good idea!? Mr. Carter concurred. They expected an enthusiastic reaction from their children, but it was as if they hadn?t spoken.

?Are you worried you?ll get hurt like Jill?? Sam didn?t think this was the problem, but he wanted Becky-Lou to tell him for herself.
?Oh no, it?s not that!? she reassured him, ?I just don?t think I?m up to it.?
?Of course not, princess.? Her father put in. ?You need time to convalesce. You know how delicate you are.?
?I don?t think that?s what Becky-Lou meant, sir.? Sam offered and she nodded in agreement. Sam had guessed correctly. Becky-Lou was so scared of disappointing Jill that she was contemplating ducking out. Better to quit now and have people wonder if she might have won, than to go out and fail spectacularly and ultimately let down the person she wanted so much to impress.
?Like falling off a horse, Sam.? Commented Al, and his friend knew exactly what he was suggesting.
?Come on!? ignoring the confused and concerned expressions of the ?adults?, and their protests, Sam grabbed Becky-Lou?s wrist with one hand, and her poles with the other, and led her to the nearest ski lift.

Hank recognized what was going on, and calmed the anxious parents with the assurance that he believed Bobby-Joe knew what he was doing. He bade them take up a position where they could watch what happened next, and to trust that things would work out for the best, before seeking out his own vantage point. Al had himself re-centered on Sam.

Minutes later, the pair had reached the start of one of the practice courses, and Sam had helped Becky-Lou to strap on her skis. He had not taken B-J?s with him, not wanting to repeat the chaotic descent of his first arrival, and using his damaged ankle as the perfect excuse to ?sit this one out?.
 
High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

Becky-Lou stood uncertainly at the gate, poking at the snow with her poles and fidgeting her feet. Sam stood behind her and massaged her shoulders.
?It?s no good, B-J, I can?t!? she spoke tremulously. ?What if I?m not good enough??
?Sure you can. I believe in you, Becky-Lou; you can do it. I know you can.?
Still she hesitated.
?There?s nobody but us here, honey. Just go for it! What?ve you got to lose?? Sam pressed. ?If you fall flat on your face ? or on your cute little tushi ? (Al giggled, and Becky-Lou blushed) we can laugh it off and go home, no harm done. You know it?s Bobby-Joe and Becky-Lou together forever, no matter what, but you owe it to yourself to try. How about it, hon?? Sam felt that B-J was helping him with his wording again.
She looked into his eyes, into his earnest face, and she saw the trust and faith he was placing in her. She knew in her heart that B-J would stand by her and support her, no matter what her ultimate decision, but she didn?t want to let him down either. She bit her lip again, and then nodded.
?That?s my girl!? Sam encouraged. ?Deep breath now??
She did as she was bid, and was about to set off, when suddenly she dug her poles in and stopped.
?Wait!? she said, grabbing Sam by the sleeve.
?What?s wrong, honey? Its okay, you?ll be fine. Do it for Jill.? Sam buoyed her up.
?I know, and I want to. I?m not backing out again.? Becky-Lou assured him. ?It?s just that you can?t ski down with me??
?You don?t need me to hold your hand!? teased Sam gently.
?No, no, I didn?t mean that, silly.? Becky-Lou gave him a playful punch.

Sam gave her a puzzled look. This girl was a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
?I want you to go back down first,? Sam started to protest, but she hushed him, ?don?t worry, I won?t chicken out I promise. I just want you to be down there to watch me. I need you to tell me what you think of my run ? but you have to tell the truth, good or bad - deal??
?Deal.? Agreed Sam, and even shook her hand to make it official. She giggled.
?Off with you then!? she ordered, ?I can?t stand up here all day waiting for you!?
Sam gave an exaggerated bow of acquiescence, and headed back for the ski lift as fast as his still aching ankle would allow. Once down, he got himself into position to have the best view of the maximum length of her course, which happened to be right next to Coach Hank Montgomery, who had already worked out the optimum location.
He was only just ready as she began her descent, and the two men watched in silence as she sliced her way down the slope.

Sam concentrated on her every move, and to his untrained eye, it was a fantastic display of skill and dexterity. He didn?t know the names of the various maneuvers she was making, he had no idea if her technique was flawless, or merely average, but on a personal level, with the perspective of a rank amateur, he was as impressed as hell. The look of exhilaration on her face as she shot past them was clear even behind her goggles. She was in her element. It didn?t take an expert to see that this was what she was born to do.
 
High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

Once she?d reached the finish line, Hank lent Sam a supporting arm as he hobbled after her. They both approached her, seeing her expression turn to one of nervousness. She bit her bottom lip anxiously.
?Well,? she asked hesitantly when they reached her side, ?what?s the verdict??
Sam embraced her enthusiastically and smiled broadly, ?You were great, Becky-Lou. Sheer magic!?
She blushed, but shook her head in denial. ?You always say that, B-J!? and she gave him another playful slap on the arm.
?Only because it?s true!? Sam argued, rubbing his arm.
?You always say that too!? Becky-Lou countered.
?Well then, we?d better ask the expert. What do you reckon, Coach??

Sam turned to Hank, hoping for all he was worth that the response would be favorable.
Hank put a hand to his chin, tilted his head on one side and looked thoughtful.
Both Sam and Becky-Lou waited with their hearts in their mouths.
For an interminable moment, Hank kept them on tenterhooks, his face implacable.
Then a little twinkle crept into the corner of his eye, and he pronounced
?That was the most outstanding run I have ever seen! Terrific technique, easy style, smooth and sweet and graceful, simply the best run I?ve ever witnessed.?
Sam let out a breath of relief.
Becky-Lou bobbed up and down with excitement. Coach Montgomery was not known to flatter. He was normally almost grudging in his praise. So this outpouring of commendation was not only unprecedented, it was beyond credulity.
?Really? Truly?? she couldn?t believe Hank was talking about her, ?That was my best run??
?That isn?t what I said, precisely? corrected Hank, but added as her face fell, ?I said the best run, period.?
Becky-Lou looked confused, unsure what the Coach was getting at. ?Not just your best run.? He clarified. ?That was a championship run, Becky-Lou Carter. Pure Gold.?

Sam thought for a moment that she was going to faint with shock, she gasped, and swayed, and he moved to catch her. Then she let out a squeal of delight.
?Shame you?ve missed your spot for this year,? Hank continued, ?but with four more years to hone your skills still further, you?ll have the competition licked for sure.?
Al, who had been observing subtly from the sidelines, pressed a couple of buttons on his hand link, then confirmed Hank?s assessment with a simple thumbs up. Nothing more was needed.
?Do you guys really think I?ve got what it takes to be a winner?? Becky-Lou pressed.
Sam hedged his bets ever so slightly. He didn?t believe in being too dogmatic.
?Trust me honey, I guarantee you?re gonna take Gold in the ?60 Olympics, or my name?s not Bobby Joe Parnell.?
?Oh, B-J, you?re something else, you really are!? Becky-Lou stood on tiptoe and reached up to cup his face with both hands, tilting it down so that she could reach to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.
?I?d go along with that, SAM.? Teased Al, as his friend Leaped?
 
High Hopes Epilogue

Epilogue​



The blue haze transported him through time, as it always did, and for a brief moment during transit he was simply himself again. B-J was gone, and only Sam remained ? whoever ?Sam? really was. He thought it had been Dr Who?s observation that ?a Man is the sum of his memories?? if that was indeed the case, then Dr Samuel John Beckett ? Scholar of six doctorates and seven degrees and time-traveler extraordinaire ? didn?t amount to very much.
Already, his memory was Swiss-cheesing again and hard won recollections were fading away, despite his desperate attempts to hold on to them.
Yet Sam refused to wallow in self-pity, even if given the chance. That was not his nature. In any case, he had no more time for looking backward. He began looking forward ? to discover who he would become in this latest Leap, where and when he was ?landing? and, most importantly, why?

?The vast outdoors of Alta were now replaced by a vast indoors. Sam had Leaped in to a huge bedroom that could only be described as opulent. The walls were papered in Regency stripes. The carpet was a deep piled Axminster in a rich, almost regal, shade of purple. The drapes were in matching velvet, and tied back with deep golden silk cords.
Sam was standing by a four-poster bed, curtained all around in finest filigree lace, with silk sheets and a pale lilac floral quilt. Atop the bed rested a brand new suitcase and a battered old brocade carpetbag that looked capacious enough to hold Mary Poppins? hat-stand.
Evidently, his new host was packing ? or unpacking ? it was impossible to be sure which at this stage. He was holding a folded white cotton garment. He shook it out to reveal a pair of old-fashioned ladies? knickers, which he could not have dropped quicker had they been ablaze. He looked down at himself and made a mental amendment: his ?hostess? was packing.
?At least she wears sensible shoes.? He noted with relief ? his hatred of high heels unabated. Sam was wearing a pair of sturdy, squarish lace-up brown leather brogues, with stout heels no more than one inch thick. Above these the legs were encased in something in excess of forty denier tights ? not quite surgical stockings, but the accent was definitely on support rather than glamour. The calf-length skirt consisted of two-inch wide pleats of herringbone tweed in a tasteful shade of deep russet. The upper body bore a slightly paler twin-set comprising V-neck jumper and cardigan in Trevira. The figure itself was short and dumpy. The hands were freckled with age and the third finger; left hand displayed a well-worn gold wedding band.
At this point, Sam noticed an US passport protruding from an outer pocket of the carpetbag, which he snatched up eagerly. Once opened it revealed a head-and-shoulders photograph. Sam studied the round face, subtly made up, silver-grey hair lightly permed, crow?s feet etched deeply round blue-grey smiling eyes.
?And who might we be, my dear?? he asked himself as he lowered his eyes to the listed personal details:

NAME:* * * * * * * * * * * * Mary Theresa Bridget McGillicuddy (nee O?Shea)

D.O.B:* * * * * * * * * * * * July 14 1932

PLACE OF BIRTH:* * * * * * * * Clonakilty, County Cork, Republic of Ireland

NATIONALITY:* * * * * * * * Citizen of the United States of America

MARITAL STATUS:* * * * * * * * Widow

OCCUPATION:* * * * * * * * Nanny/Housekeeper

Sam let the document slip through his fingers. Turning his attention to the fitted wardrobe that filled the wall at the foot of the bed, he faced the full-length mirror as he inevitably did. Shrugging his shoulders, Sam reflected with mild amusement:
?Dear God, now I?m Mrs. Doubtfire!?