High Hopes

High Hopes Chapter 12 cont

Al checked his watch for the hundredth time. He could only hope that time would not run out for his friend before the rescue team arrived. The observer was tempted to pop outside and see for himself exactly where the search party was, but he was afraid that abandoning Sam for even a moment might allow him the opportunity for him to slip too far into the grip of the hypothermia.

At last Ziggy was telling him that it was light outside, and the team was well on the move.
?C?mon buddy, hang in there,? he encouraged, ?Not much longer now, pal. Talk to me, Sam. How?re you feeling??
Al had learned that he had to keep it simple; Sam?s genius mind was so much sushi at the moment. It was only his iron-willed determination to survive and even more, to keep his promise to get Becky-Lou out alive that was keeping the physicist conscious.
?My? body? feels? like? lead, yet? my?my head? seems? to? be? floating? weightless. Is? this? what? death? feels? like, Al?? Every hoarsely whispered word was hard won, and marked by a blink of concentration. The spaces between words were getting longer and longer.
?Hold on, buddy, don?t give in to it,? pleaded Al. ?You gotta fight it, Sam. Stay with me, now.? Al was gripping the hand link as if it were a rope he could throw to a drowning Sam. He willed the leaper to find the strength to survive.

?They?re almost here, Sam, time to dig out.? Al finally told his friend.
?C-a-n-?t? m-o-v-e.? It was all Sam could do to remember how to form words.
?You have to, buddy.? Al told him gently, but seeing that his friend was slipping into further unresponsiveness, he changed his manner. Putting on a stern expression, and pointing his finger for emphasis, he made his tone harsh and commanding, ?Come on damn it, move yourself, soldier, that?s an order.?
How many times had Al needed to apply tough love to pull Sam through a crisis? Too many, and should Sam survive this current ordeal, Al had little doubt that this wouldn?t be the last.
For a few moments more, Sam remained still, eyelids drooping, on the verge of giving in and passing out. If he was still breathing, his lungs were unaware of it.
 
High Hopes Chapter 12 cont

Then Al used his trump card, the one thing guaranteed to galvanize Sam into action.
?Sam, you get your butt back in gear and start digging right now, or Becky-Lou is gonna die in here with you.? He chastised.
As predicted, that penetrated Sam?s befuddled, benumbed brain, and caused his eyes to open wide.
?That?s it, pal, c?mon. You can do it.?

Sam tried to move, but his cryogenic carcass was totally unresponsive to his mind?s incoherent commands.
?Can?t!? he repeated; the word expelled on a strained breath.
?Sam, I don?t wanna hear you can?t.? admonished the Admiral, as if he were chewing out a raw recruit. ?Now get to it. Becky-Lou?s in big trouble, Sam. You gotta get help, and you gotta do it now.? Al was beginning to worry that he had already left it too late.
Little by little, Sam woke his slumbering muscles. It was no easy task. Intense concentration brought barely a flicker of movement.

?Dammit Sam, try harder.? Bullied Al, ?Remember that film? ?Lorenzo?s oil? - That kid was paralyzed, but he didn?t give in. Be like him, Sam, remember, huh? ? Now tell your brain to tell your shoulder to tell your arm to tell your hand to tell your fingers to dig out. Do it!?
Sam forced his frozen fingers to flex. Somehow, he made contact with the snowy plug and pawed at it half-heartedly.
?You need to do better than that, Sam? Al chastised, though he knew he was asking a lot. Sam shot him a look that countered, ?I?d like to see you do better!?
?Get angry, Sam, let rage give you the strength, get angry with that damned snow.? Al suggested. Sam wasn?t sure he remembered what anger was. He wasn?t sure of anything except that he was desperate to sleep.
?How?where...?? Sam mumbled, forgetting what he was trying to do. Everything seemed remote and unreal.
?You gotta dig out, Sam. C?mon buddy, concentrate. Look, follow my moves.?
Al got his hand into position, let it disappear into the bank, and mimed scooping out a handful of snow. He had to do it three times before Sam got the message, and attempted to ape the movement.

?That?s it, pal, attaboy, you can do it,? encouraged Al, continuing to demonstrate what Sam needed to do. Gradually, Sam got into a sort of rhythm, and Al could see the snow coming away piece by tiny piece.
Stiff, swollen, aching joints made digging with gnarled hands slow, painful strenuous work. Sam worked once more as an automaton, without thought or feeling beyond the repetitive movements being required of him. Al hassled and cajoled and praised every slight achievement, while at the same time checking his hand link compulsively every few moments, to be sure that the team had not passed them by.
 
High Hopes Chapter 12 cont

Al could almost hear them outside, walking in a line, sinking poles gently into the snow to feel for any foreign objects, calling to each other when an area was clear and they should advance to the next stage.
?Hurry Sam, they?re almost here!? Al spurred him to one last burst of effort.
Sam complied, clawed hands scrabbling at the last of the snow as one buried alive scrabbles at the lid of their coffin. Just in time, his twisted fingers grabbed at air, and his hand burst through to the surface, like the lady of the lake reaching up for Excalibur.

?Look! There!? the shout went up, and in moments hands were reaching out, carefully digging away enough snow to find the body that went with the protruding hand.
As they worked, Al promised Sam that everything should be okay now and that his pains would soon be over.
?Doesn?t? hurt? any? more. Can?t? feel? a thing. Funny, I? thought? rigor mortis? came? after? death.?
With tremendous efficiency and practiced teamwork, an ashen-faced Sam was soon extracted from his temporary tomb. When they moved him, he felt he was so fragile - his bones as brittle as glass - that a wrong move would cause him to snap into a thousand pieces. Thankfully, they were gentle and sensitive in their handling of him. They had dealt with enough cases of hypothermia to know what needed doing. They could see how thoroughly the young man was in its grip by the waxy appearance of his skin, the cyanosis of his cracked lips and fingertips and the general rigidity of his limbs and they could feel how very cold he was to the touch. In fact they were amazed that not only did he still have a discernable pulse ? just ? but he was also still conscious, albeit barely.

?Becky? he whispered simply, his arm feebly pointing back inside to indicate that he was not alone. One of his rescuers dove into the tunnel to investigate.
The rest of the team eased him onto a litter, and covered him with several blankets, tucking them in tightly around his body to prevent further heat loss now that he was exposed to the elements. They discussed removing his damp clothing and replacing it with dry, but decided it was better to wait until he reached the ambulance that was waiting for them at the base of the mountain. The early morning air was decidedly chilly, and the dangers of effecting the change out in the open were liable to be more deleterious than the potential benefits of the result warranted.

Whilst some of the rescuers waited with a second litter for Becky-Lou to emerge, four began the decent with Sam carried between them, all the while speaking reassuringly to him to ease his mental anguish and reduce the effects of shock. Coach Hank Montgomery walked alongside; having insisted on going with the search party he?d alerted after Tammy had informed him of the couple?s failure to return to their dorms. He too spoke encouraging words to his student.

Al, on the other hand, regretfully told Sam that Ziggy was predicting Becky-Lou was still in danger, and therefore he had to remain awake a little longer. Sam ploughed every molecule of waning energy remaining in him into keeping his eyelids from obeying gravity?s insistent demands. He was teetering precariously on the precipice of that yawning chasm known as coma.
 
High Hopes Chapter 12 cont

So all absorbing was this undertaking, that before he knew it, both he and Becky-Lou were lying in the ambulance, had been taken out of their wet clothes and were being rushed to the hospital in Salt Lake City.
What got his attention at this point, where Al?s continued urgings to respond had thus far failed, was the conversation between the two paramedics riding with them.
?I don?t think she?s gonna make it,? announced one, ?I?ve lost her pulse again.?
He began massaging Becky-Lou?s chest.
The other one took a look at her, commenting on her extreme pallor.
?She sure looks like death.? He confirmed, ?mind you, so does the other one.? He pointed at Sam. ?I don?t understand why he isn?t comatose too.? The words were coming to Sam through a fog, and his brain was having trouble processing their implications, but gradually he started to make some sort of sense of it all.
?Maybe we should just concentrate our efforts on him. She doesn?t seem to be responding at all. She still feels like ice. At least he stands a chance?? began the first.

?No!? breathed Sam, but he wasn?t sure they?d heard. He wasn?t even sure he?d spoken aloud.
They had to keep trying; they couldn?t give up on Becky-Lou. Sam was feeling like he?d never thaw out either, but he would take his chances. They mustn?t let Becky-Lou die.
Sam found himself wishing ?Space? blankets had been invented. They did the trick for marathon runners suffering from exposure?
?That?s it!? he thought, his brain suddenly energized by the possibility of saving Becky-Lou.

He had to make them understand.

Sam tried to reach up to grab the paramedic?s arm, but his own stubbornly refused to move. How could he get their attention? He was so completely and utterly exhausted; he could barely summon the strength to breathe.
Okay then, that would have to do. It was a pity that this was not a decade or so later ? he would have had respiratory monitors to alert them to his condition. Unfortunately, the mid-fifties had nothing so sophisticated. He would have to rely upon their vigilance. He drew in as deep a breath as he could manage, and deliberately held it. Just as he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, the technician closest to him sensed a change in status. Looking round, he called to his partner.
?Ralph, this one?s not breathing!?
They turned their efforts to him, instantly attentive, extremely relieved when he spontaneously gasped in a lungful of air.

??Tinfoil? Sam suggested as he exhaled again, in a barely audible whisper.
 
High Hopes Chapter 12 cont

The nearest paramedic leaned forward, thinking the boy was delirious ?What?s that, son??
??tin? foil? Sam repeated, no louder than before, straining to get the words through dry cracked still blue lips.
Leaning right down so that his ear was to Sam?s lips, the attendant urged him to say it once more, thinking that the lad?s judgment was skewed by exhaustion, but grateful for any sign that he was fighting the hypothermia.
?Wrap? her? in? tin? foil? Sam sighed with effort and exasperation.
?Tin foil?? repeated the man incredulously, ?What the devil is he on about, Ralph??
Ralph merely shrugged his shoulders, and then made a circular motion with his finger pointing at his temple. The kid?s brain was a frozen Popsicle; he couldn?t be expected to make sense.
?Think!? exhorted Sam, who was finding that particular activity exceedingly taxing, along with all the other strenuous pursuits he was being forced to engage in, such as breathing, and staying awake.
?Why? cook? food? tinfoil??
He could almost see the wheels turning as the two processed this question. Then, as one, their expressions changed, and it was as if he could see the light-bulb switch on in their brains.
?To stop heat escaping!? provided Ralph. ?Donny, this kid?s a genius!?
?And then some!? Al put in.
Donny leaned forward and banged on the partition that separated the cab from the rear of the ambulance.

A few minutes and a quick stop at the local store later, and they were wrapping both patients in copious amounts of aluminum foil, like a pair of sparkling oven-ready mummies.

When this task had been accomplished, Ziggy squealed.
?That?s it, buddy. Ziggy says the odds of Becky-Lou surviving have risen to 52%. You did it kiddo. You?ll still have to get her skiing again, but the crisis is over for now.?
Sam had a strong case of Rip Van Winkle envy.
?If? nobody? minds?? Sam replied by way of acknowledgement, ?I think? I?d? like? a little? nap? now, just? for a? week? or so.?
Without waiting for confirmation or permission, Sam lapsed into serene unconsciousness.
Only the scarcely discernable rise and fall of his chest at infrequent intervals marked the fact that he was merely sleeping and not dead.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Tuesday evening

Gradually, the hypothermic coma gave way to a deep sleep, then to a lighter, more restless hovering on the edge of consciousness. Finally, a sensation penetrated Sam?s awareness. It was not so much a pain as a deep discomfort, which perversely he found strangely comforting. It took a while for Sam to locate the source of the feeling, and when he did, he awoke with a start and tried to scuttle his torso upward in the bed, a look of alarm on his face.
?What the??? he struggled to come to terms with what was being done to him.

A nurse was there at once, restraining him, her voice gentle and soothing.
?Hush now, lie still. It?s all right. You?re safe now.?
?Safe? was a relative term, when you were in the process of being violated.
He found he was shaking, with cold and with fear, but as he looked at the nurse?s sympathetic face, his rational mind suddenly calculated what was happening. The cold reminded him that not so long ago he had been far too cold even to shiver, and had needed some serious thawing out. That was what they were doing. In order to help raise his core temperature, they were giving him a warm water enema!
?Oh, boy!? he breathed, still a little freaked by the intrusion upon his person, but appreciative now of the reasoning behind it.

He realized that his retreat had been hindered by tethers in the form of tubes protruding from both arms. These carried blood out of his body on the right, circulated it through a pump and a series of coils, which warmed the blood before returning it to the body by way of his left arm, bypassing the heart and so warming the body. It was an inspired reversal of a common technique developed in the 50?s to cool the blood and thence the body during serious operations.

Another face floated into his field of vision, the friendly face of his Coach, Hank Montgomery, looking tired and drawn.
?How you doing, B-J? You look like Hell, son.?
Sam felt every bit as bad as he evidently looked. Every single muscle in his entire body ached with an intensity beyond imagining. Every joint felt swollen and uncomfortable. His stomach felt tender and sore, a legacy of the savage spasms caused by the cramps, and he was fatigued beyond measure.
?I?d say? that?s w-where? I?ve been? replied Sam, his voice rasping, ?Only? it has a r-reputation? for being? just a t-tad warmer!?
Hank sniggered, and patted him on the arm, surprised at how cold the flesh still felt beneath his own warm hand.
?Try to get some sleep now. You need to rest.? Ordered the nurse.

Feeling more relaxed by the acceptance of his treatment, which he was medic enough to recognize as both necessary and desirable to ensure his recovery; Dr Beckett drifted once again into the friendly arms of Morpheus, and slept the sleep of the just.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

Thursday lunchtime

The tubes had finally been removed when Sam found himself abruptly returning to full consciousness once more. As his addled mind, which had fallen to dreaming, relived his ordeal, and his dreams reminded him sharply that he had not suffered alone, he sat bolt upright in the bed, staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes:
?Becky-Lou?!?
Al could tell it wasn?t exactly the smartest thing Sam had ever done as his friend?s pale face blanched whiter still.
?Whoa, Sam, bad move buddy.?
Sam had instantly reached this conclusion of his own accord, and collapsed back to the horizontal in pretty short order.
?You?re telling me?? he sighed wearily, eyelids drooping again.

He?d intended to go and find her, to see for himself if she was all right, but the effort required to get him up and out of the bed would have taken way more energy than he currently had at his disposal.
Though his heart rate had returned to normal - and then some - and his blood pressure had risen to a more acceptable level, as had his temperature, he still felt incredibly weak.
?What?s that, sonny?? Queried the Doctor, suspecting that his patient was still a trifle delirious.

Sam pulled himself together with the barely conscious effort of one long practiced in dealing with such abnormal circumstances.
?Please, tell me how Becky-Lou is. I need to know.? Sam Beckett a.k.a Bobby-Joe Parnell was feeling guilty and vulnerable and scared. He?d tried to protect her, to save her. He was sure he remembered that he?d tried pretty darn hard. But had it been enough? He was at once both anxious and afraid to have his query answered.
?She?s out of danger, hon. She hasn?t woken up yet, but they say she?s gonna be just fine.?
His still befuddled brain fancied he heard his mother?s voice, comforting, calming reassuring, warm.. He felt enfolded by her protective love, safe and exonerated.
When he opened his eyes, however, it was not Thelma Beckett?s face he saw, but it was the next best thing. B-J?s mother was sitting by the bed, holding his hand, crying softly, and Al stood behind her.

?What are you doing here?? he asked his friend, with an unusual lack of discretion; having belatedly remembered Al?s other ailing partner, and his insistence that Al should go to her.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

-?That?s exactly what Ruthie asked me!? Al responded.
-?That?s a charming welcome for your poor old Mom.? Sam had the notion that if she hadn?t been so worried about the state of him, he?d have received a swift clip round the ear for his insolence.
?I only meant,? he hastened to assure her, looking at Al with a ?now look what trouble you?ve got me into? expression, ?how did you get here so fast??
Al promised his friend he would explain everything later, when they were alone.
?Fast? You?ve been asleep for more than two days,, sweetie. I was fit to be tied when they told us what had happened. Then when I first got here and set eyes on you, I thought I was gonna lose you.?
She sniffed and began crying anew.
?Don?t cry, Mom. I?m okay, honest.? As if to prove it, Sam tried to sit up again, but had to admit defeat before he?d gained much ground.

?Tell your Momma the truth now; how are you really??
?Fine, honestly, except?.?
?I knew it, what?s wrong, honey??
?Only that? his voice was husky, ?I sure could use a hug.? He guessed she could too.
She enveloped him in the warmth of her motherly love and for a while he forgot he was Sam Beckett and she Lillian Parnell. It was as if she really was his mother, or he really was her son. It didn?t matter which. He felt safe in her arms, and comforted, and freed for a while from the responsibilities of adulthood.
?Thanks, Mom. I needed that.? He whispered, as they finally broke apart. She smiled indulgently at him.

It was true what his own mother had often told him, ?Mother-Love is the most powerful force on Earth. It protects and nurtures and heals.? There was no pain, or bad feeling or Boogie Man it could not either drive away or at least diminish.
?Anything else you need, son?? Lillian fussed over him, plumping his pillow.
Sam could think of quite a few things, most of them fairly basic requirements, like more sleep, but the one that came strongest to mind at that precise moment was food, his recent experience having left him feeling drained in more than one sense. The thought of a warm meal was too tempting to resist.
?Uh, I am kinda ravenous,? he declared, ?I could use something to eat.?
?Of course, honey.? She was already on her feet, and making for the door. ?What would you like? Anything you want, anything at all, whatever your little heart desires, you just name it and I?ll get it for you.?

Sam had no doubt that she would make good on that promise, if she had to commandeer the hospital kitchen and spend the next couple of hours creating some intricate culinary masterpiece, to satisfy his most outrageous whim.
?I?m so hungry I could eat anything,? he replied earnestly, ?I really don?t mind what.? He paused, considering his statement and deciding it needed one slight qualification, ?anything except...? he sighed deeply, so that it was almost a shudder, ?not ice cream, please.?
Everyone in the room, including the invisible Al, burst into spontaneous laughter at that, even Sam himself managed to smile, though in truth his plea had been a serious one.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

?Well,? declared the doctor, ?at least his sense of humor is still intact. And a healthy appetite is a good sign. I think we can safely say the prognosis is quite good in this case.?
Mrs Parnell?s step was noticeably lighter as she bustled out to find him some sustenance.

Sam remembered suddenly and very clearly his own mother sitting by his bedside.
It had been the spring of his eleventh year, when he was helping on his parents? farm and had been savagely kicked in the groin by a cow that was having trouble calving. He?d been laid up for nigh on a week, and he had limped for a good deal longer than that, and the pain had been indescribable. The shock of the incident had caused a lock of hair on his forehead to turn snow white overnight, and so it had remained throughout his life.

When it happened, he?d pressed his lips tightly together to keep himself from crying out. It hadn?t been all that bad, in fact more numb than painful at first and he?d wanted to carry on helping his Dad, but his leg burgeoned from a shoot to a sapling in moments and then gave way under him. He?d fallen to the ground at his father?s feet, yet for a moment John Beckett, engrossed in comforting Esme, the distressed cow, failed to notice. It was only when the numbness wore off, and the pain hit Sam abruptly with all the force of an atomic detonation at ground zero, that he could stay silent no longer and the scream that escaped his lips was as Joshua at the walls of Jericho. A loud and mournful ululation emanated from him, strident, unending, and as the pain and the cry built to a simultaneous crescendo the walls of the red barn shook, reverberating with the dreadful sound. Esme was temporarily forgotten as his father turned to see what had provoked such a din from his normally quiet son. Then his father saw what must have happened and whisked his son up in his arms, carrying him into the house whilst at the same time his mother and brother came flying out to see what was amiss.
What had happened in the next few minutes, or maybe hours, were a blur to Sam, and not because of his Swiss-Cheese memory.

When he?d come to, it was with a rush of awareness, which arched his back and caused the scream to take up precisely where it had left off, continuing till he had no breath left to scream.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

They had divested him of all his clothes in an attempt to assess the extent of the damage that had caused such a severe reaction. He was lying on his bed; stark, buck-naked as the day he was born, in the altogether, and altogether too hazed by pain to care. His leg was swollen up thick as a tree trunk and almost twice the girth of its counterpart. The whole area of his upper thigh and groin was a single massive purple bruise, which burned with the heat of a hundred suns.

As his Mom applied a cold compress to reduce the swelling, eliciting a hoarse throated squeal, his dad shook his head and said that he had been lucky. (Sam decided his definition of lucky must differ significantly from that of his father.) ?If that blow had been an inch or two further over he?d have been gelded for sure.? This curious proclamation gave Sam no comfort whatsoever, as the agony welled up to ever-greater degrees within him, so that he howled mournfully as a wolf baying at the full moon, till finally it hurt too much even to moan, and he was reduced to heavy rasping breaths.

His Mom mopped his fevered brow with a tepid cloth, and held his hand, though he dug his nails into her palm with each spasm that gripped his vitals.
?Gee, Mom, it hurts. It really HURTS!? Sam complained between sobs, ?Make it stop, Mom, PLEASE make it stop.?

He was driven half mad by the pain, his dull, lack-luster eyes staring unfocused at the ceiling of his room, his hands clawing for the soothing touch of his mother?s arms. His bruised and swollen pudenda throbbed interminably, like the base beat of a pop song, with an intensity that was beyond endurance. There were moments when he sincerely felt he would have preferred it if he had been Bobbitized instead.

Tom had laughed nervously at first in embarrassed sympathy. But when he saw the terrible strain etched on his baby brother?s face, he?d fussed round like a mother hen, running to fetch fresh cold cloths as each one warmed on the radiator which was his sibling?s leg. He couldn?t look Sam in the eye; he didn?t want Sam to see that the big brother he thought so strong and tough was fighting back tears of his own.
John Beckett phoned for the doctor, only to be told he had gone to deliver twins to a couple who ran a farm on the other side of town and was likely to be gone for some considerable time. John had tried to help, but found himself feeling superfluous in the sick room, and soon returned to tend to Esme.

Thelma had given her son some junior aspirin, but far from killing the pain as the packet promised, they barely managed to stun it. The pains in his crotch made him want to double up, curl up protectively into a hedgehog ball, but the swelling of his leg would brook no such maneuver and kept him stretched out flat, the slightest movement sending him whiter than the immaculately laundered sheets he lay on.
Thelma stroked his hair, his arm, his cheek, and spoke reassuringly to her son, but she felt helpless in the face of his torment. It cut her to the quick when he pleaded, eyes like saucers, voice cracked:
?The pain?s so bad, Mom. Make it go away. Please, you gotta make it go away, I can?t bear it."
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

He looked gaunt, haggard, far older and more care-worn than his tender years had any right to look.

Then, to his eternal chagrin, dazed and confused as he was, he had reflexively answered Nature?s sudden call. His water hissed and steamed as it ran down his leg, burning like acid as he passed it, making him whimper pitifully. As ill luck would have it, Katie had chosen that precise moment to seek everyone out, feeling ignored. With the innocent glee of a six year old, she chanted in singsong fashion:
?Sammy?s wet the be-ed, Sammy?s wet the be-ed. Who?s the baby now, brother?? she mocked, trying to sound superior, ?I stopped doing that ages ago.?
When Mom tried to pull a sheet over him to restore his dignity, he?d had to push it away with frantically flailing arms, as even that slight weight was unbearably oppressive to him.
Tom glared daggers at Katie and pulled her out of the room, telling her sternly:
?Shut up, Katie, leave him alone. He couldn?t help it. Sam?s been hurt and he couldn?t help it.?
Katie rushed to her room in a flood of tears, both from the unaccustomed telling off, and because she was frightened by her brother?s pain.
Thelma knew she needed a loving hug and a motherly pep talk, but Sam?s need was the greater.
?I?ll go.? Offered Tom, feeling guilty for snapping at her.


Thelma drew Sam into her arms and told him not to worry; she wasn?t cross; it would be okay. Sam shook with paroxysms of sobbing.
?I?m sorry, Mom, I love you. I?m so sorry. It?s just that it hurts real bad.?
?I know,? she crooned, ?I love you too, honey. It?ll be all right. It?ll pass, I promise. Its okay, Mommy?s here.? She mopped his brow again and stroked his cheek, drawing his head into the shelter of her bosom, and for a moment the pain subsided.


When she?d got him into a dry bed, Thelma sat with her son, tending his wound as best she could; making him as comfortable as possible, which heaven knew was so far from comfortable as to make a mockery of the word. She felt every tremulous shudder he gave like a knife twisting in her heart as she lulled him to sleep, exhausted by the pain and the shock and the fear and the shame.
For a timeless time, Sam had dozed fitfully, drifting in and out of consciousness, floating on a sea of confusion, awash with pain. The terrible pulsing agony burrowed deep down to reach the very depths of his subconscious, drawing him back up to sweating bouts of troubled, twitching, jerking movements as his mind tried to escape the prison of his tortured body. Whenever he writhed thus, his mother was there to restrain him, to soothe and calm him, to hug him and assuage his fears.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

After his acutely embarrassing ?accident?, Thelma had fetched a vase for his convenience. At first, he refused to use it, holding everything in ? for the prospect of a repeat of that awful burning sensation; the agony he?d experienced, the feeling that he?d be split asunder by the stringent acid flow, left him quaking in abject terror. He wouldn?t drink when his Mom tenderly offered him water to replace the body fluids he was so profusely sweating off. He didn?t want to need to pass urine, and with the confused logic of childhood, and a mind dulled by pain and fever, he figured that if he didn?t take it in, he wouldn?t need to let it out again. Thelma had patiently convinced him that the more he drank the weaker the solution passing through and therefore the less painful it would be. Finally, the natural born scientist in him recognized the wisdom of her counsel.
Nevertheless, the next few times he availed himself of the wide necked vase, he had needed to grit his teeth and screw up his eyes to keep from blubbing at the torturous activity, making him curse his gender and the design of his anatomy.

Though the recollection of that long ago injury was vivid enough to make the adult Sam wince, still his abiding memory was of his mother?s embrace, her untiring presence, her unfailing love.

No matter how often he surfaced - from sleeping nightmares of being trampled to death by herds of stampeding cattle, to waking ones of excruciating pain ? over the next couple of fever-ridden days, he had never once found himself alone. Mom had always been there, napping in a chair by his bed, instantly attentive as soon as he so much as stirred. When she had found time to grab herself a meal, much less cook for the rest of the family, was beyond the scope of his imagination. He only knew that she was constantly there for him, and it was her love, and her love alone that had brought him back from his personal Gehenna with his sanity intact.

With the unique perspective that Leaping afforded him, he could well imagine what that diligence had cost her. He understood now that in some ways her suffering had probably outweighed his own. He. wished he could tell her somehow how grateful he was. He felt sure that he had taken it all pretty much for granted at the time, and the thought grieved him. (In fact, as ever, Sam Beckett didn?t give himself enough credit ? he had shown a degree of appreciation uncommon in one so young.)

When the fever had finally broken, he had slept heavily for a while, a deep and dreamless sleep. He awoke to find that the dreadful throbbing had at last abated, to be replaced by a dull nagging ache and a deep-rooted tingling, stinging itch he couldn?t scratch. It couldn?t quite be called a pain, but it was almost as unbearable. He sucked air in sharply and noisily through his teeth, startling his Mom from the nap she?d snatched while he was peaceful.
He fidgeted, not knowing what to do with his hands. The instinctive part of him wanted to scratch and scratch furiously for all he was worth at the offending area like a dog with a fresh case of rampant fleas. The other, rational part of him knew he was still not ready to endure tactile contact in that region.
As ever, his mother was there, gently holding him still, her voice soft, yet full of tight-reined emotion.
 
High Hopes Chapter 13 cont

?It?s all right, Sam, Mommy?s here. Is it still hurting bad, honey??
?Not exactly, Mom, it sort of itches and stings. I can?t describe it, but it?s driving me crazy. Will I ever feel normal agai

He was more lucid now than he?d been for Heaven knew how long, and his eyes were brighter, but Thelma could still sense his extreme distress, and knew he was suffering more than he wanted to acknowledge. She drew him to her in a tight embrace, her heart bursting with love and compassion. .
She?d have given anything and everything if she could have waved a magic wand to make her son better. She?d prayed and prayed, made promise after promise to God if he?d only see her youngest son whole again. She?d eulogized about what an exemplary life he led, how he was a dutiful son, full of filial affection. She?d begged that if such punishment were somehow unwittingly deserved, that retribution should rather be heaped upon her own head, that Sam might be spared.

Now that the worst of the crisis was over, Thelma gave heartfelt thanks to God for returning her son to her. She determined that she would do all in her power both to minimize his trauma during his recovery and ensure that the whole family showed a proper gratitude to the Lord in their prayers and in their lives.

She distracted him now from his discomfort ? which she assured him was a positive sign of healing ? by playing word games with him, and reading with him, and quizzing him on any topic under the sun (she never once caught him out).
And when his fever starved body finally demanded sustenance, his Mom had brought him?.
?Chicken soup


Mmmm, so good he could almost smell it now.

And so it came full circle - as Lillian Parnell returned to his hospital room bearing a huge bowl brim-full of steaming hot chicken soup.
?Get this down you, son.? She instructed, with a look that left him in no doubt he was expected to drink every last drop.
?Is that every mother?s cure-all?? Sam mused, ?chicken soup and cuddles?. He sipped the warm broth gratefully as she spoon-fed him, a lopsided smile on his cracked lips.
Perhaps it wasn?t such a bad prescription after all.
It was certainly putting color back into his cheeks.
 
High Hopes Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen​


By the time he?d eaten his fill, which surprisingly was not the entire contents of the bowl, Sam was feeling much improved.
Lillian conceded to the nurse?s attestation that his ordeal would have caused his stomach to shrink somewhat, so that his appetite exceeded his capacity to eat at this stage. The nurse also insisted that despite his long sleep, he still needed lots of rest to regain his strength.
Sam confirmed this opinion by using a line he?d read in an interview with Stephen King, though he didn?t reveal its source:
?Yeah, I have all the energy of a boa-constrictor that?s just swallowed a goat.?
Lillian Parnell agreed to leave him to sleep, and also promised to look in on Becky-Lou, whose father was keeping vigil at her bedside. Before she left, she fussed at his pillows and sheets and asked him a dozen times if he was comfortable and if there was anything else he needed. He reassured her that he was fine, only tired, and returned her enthusiastic ?nap-time? hug with all the strength he could muster, which was admittedly very little. He did manage a wide smile, and this finally sufficed in heartening her enough to allow her departure.
?Sleep well, honey.? She ordered in parting, giving Sam a kiss on the forehead. ?I love you.?
?Love you, Mom.? Sam reciprocated sincerely, still feeling the filial bond.
Lillian let herself be ushered out by the nurse, who likewise ordered Sam to get some sleep as she closed the door to his room, leaving him alone with his invisible friend.

Sam sighed wearily.
?You okay pal?? Al was aware he was sounding like B-J?s mother, but his concern was as genuine.
?How can I have slept for two days and still be so tired, Al?? Sam asked with a yawn.
?Well, I dunno, how ?bout you tell me Doctor Beckett? Let?s see ? maybe because you very nearly died out there!? Al scolded.
?I would have if not for you, Al?? Sam told him gratefully.
Al made a dismissive gesture, forestalling Sam?s thanks. ?I?d better go too, they?re right, you need to rest and get your strength back.? He reached for his hand-link to summon the door that would take him back to the future.
Sam raised a leaden arm to bid him stay.
?Don?t go yet, Al,? he wasn?t pleading, yet his tone still conveyed a real desire not to be entirely alone.

Al aligned himself with a holographic chair in Sam?s hospital room and simultaneously with a solid one in the Imaging Chamber and took a seat beside his friend.
?I?m here as long as you need me, buddy. You know that. Shall I stay ?til you fall asleep? You want me to tell you a bedtime story?? Al?s teasing was gentle and as much as anything was an expression of the relief he was feeling that Sam had clawed his way back from the very brink of death. It earned him an exasperated raising of eyebrows, followed by a huge grin.
?Matter of fact, I do.? Sam replied unexpectedly. ?I want to hear all about your visit with Ruthie. How is she??
 
High Hopes Chapter 14 cont

As he spoke, he shifted position in the bed, trying to get more comfortable. A frown crossed his features.
Al looked at him questioningly, not needing to voice his renewed concern.
?I?m okay, Al. I?m just stiffer than an Englishman?s upper lip!? Sam joked to set his friend?s mind at rest.
Al spluttered with laughter. ?Good one!? he conceded, glad of the change of subject.

Sam rubbed and squeezed at his left shoulder, collarbone and neck with his right hand, then mirrored the process on the other side. He rotated his shoulders and winced.
?Take it easy, Sam. You?re bound to have some soreness.?
?My muscles have got more kinks than your sexual practices.? Sam complained as he continued to massage his aching shoulders - a pained expression accompanying his actions.
Al pretended to look shocked and hurt for a second.
?I should take umbrage at that, pal.? He rejoined. Then he waggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. ?But you know what they say ?Practice makes perfect!? Besides, it sure is fun!? He chortled; his eyes alight with wicked merriment.
Sam smiled indulgently. His friend may be incorrigible, but he was still the best friend a man could ask for. ?You?re such a ham, Al!? he teased.
?Maybe that?s why Ruthie couldn?t stomach me!? Al muttered, ?I wasn?t kosher enough for her.?
?Ahem,? Sam cleared his throat pointedly, ?Talking of Ruthie, Al. You were going to tell me what happened with Ruthie??

Al looked away, and for a moment Sam thought he was going to clam up again and put on his ?don?t intrude into my private life? fa?ade.
?You did go to see her?? Sam pressed.
Al had indeed been hoping that Sam would have forgotten all about him unburdening himself back in the snow cave. It was annoying that the Swiss cheesing of his brain made Sam blank out completely on the important stuff, yet retain with clarity the things Al would rather he forgot. Things like Al?s uncharacteristic opening up on a deeply personal matter. He could see that the self-appointed social worker he had taken as his best friend would not be fobbed off, though, so he capitulated.
?Yeah, I went to see her.? He stated flatly.
?And??? Sam felt this was harder than pulling teeth from a cantankerous crocodile with a pair of tweezers, and he was pretty sure it wasn?t just because he still felt so exhausted. He gave Al a withering stare that ordered him to stop prevaricating.
 
High Hopes Chapter 14 cont

?Okay, okay.? Al sighed. ?At first it was like I predicted, she was comatose, and it felt like a waste of time being there. But I talked to her like you told me to. It wasn?t easy. We?ve been divorced a whole lot longer than we were married, y?know??
?I understand Al. But you did the right thing in going.?
?I guess so. At least her being out of it gave me time to think about what I wanted to say, without her interrupting me. I don?t think I got to finish so many sentences in all the time we were married! When she finally woke up, she was distant at first, almost hostile, but she seemed to appreciate the fact I?d been there.? Al allowed himself a little smile, which wasn?t lost on Sam.
?We got under each other?s skin quite a bit, just like we always used to. By the time I left though, I suppose you could say we were on the way to being friends again.?
?I don?t like to say ?I told you so??? Sam began, pleased for his friend.
?Then don?t!? Al tried hard to sound cross, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. Boy Scout Beckett had struck again, and Al felt better for it.

?Is she gonna be okay, Al?? Sam needed to know. He didn?t want the man who was like a second father to him to have found a new understanding with an old flame, only to lose her again before he?d had a chance to savor it.
?The Doc says she?s off the critical list, but it?s too early to say about her long term prognosis. She sustained spinal damage at ? what was it the Doc said? - at level T10? Does that mean anything to you??
?Uh huh.? Sam?s medical knowledge did not fail him. He was well aware how serious an injury this was. Less so than a C5 like Jill Kinmont had sustained, but potentially seriously incapacitating nonetheless.
?What else did the doctor tell you?? Sam didn?t want to paint the picture himself, especially as he wasn?t in possession of the full facts.
?You know me, Sam. I can?t be doing with all that medical mumbo jumbo. No offense.?
?None taken.? Sam smiled. Al understood a lot more technical stuff than he usually admitted to, but he believed in ?plain speaking?.
?Her legs were pretty bashed up, Sam.? Al looked pale and sorrowful as he said this; his feelings toward Ruthie ran deeper than he would ever confess, probably far deeper than he even realized. ?Her face was all bruised and swollen. She was a mess.?
?Internal injuries?? Dr Beckett enquired.
?Not as bad as they expected apparently.? Al said positively.

Sam nodded thoughtfully.
?They promised to keep me updated with her progress.? Al told his friend, with an air of finality.
Sam shot him a disapproving glare.
 
High Hopes Chapter 14 cont

?You are going back to see her again.? Sam stated rather than asked.
?Oh, I dunno, Sam. What would be the point? It?s not like either of us is looking to get back together or anything.?
?I never suggested you should, Al.? Sam hastily reassured him.
?Well then?? Al gave him a ?what do you want from me? look, complete with a shrug. He considered the matter closed.
?Just cos you don?t plan to remarry her, doesn?t mean you?re not allowed to care about her, Al. Even as a friend. She needs a friend right now.?
?But??
?Al,? Sam persisted, ?You?re still listed as her next of kin. Why do you think that is??
?Cos her parents are dead and she never re-married.? Al shot back, a little too glibly.
Sam tilted his head and gave his friend a knowing look.

?What d?ya want me to say, Sam??
?Bottom line,? Sam was too tired to drag this out, ?I want you to promise that while I?m between leaps, you?ll go back and see Ruthie. Spend some time with her, talk with her, take her a present ? and not just flowers and grapes. Something to tell her that you?re rooting for her, that you genuinely care about her recovery. Something meaningful that she can hang onto during her long convalescence when you aren?t there anymore and she?s alone and despondent. It?s gonna be tough on her, Al. Chances are it?s gonna be an uphill struggle, and she?s gonna have to come to terms with whatever limitations her condition imposes. She needs something to give her strength and hope and courage.?
?Wow, that?s quite a speech Sam, and quite a tall order. Any idea what this miracle gift should be??
Sam considered for a few moments.
?I think maybe I can help you there, Al.? Sam shifted position in the bed again, and once more showed discomfort on his face, but he dismissed it.
?I met a fascinating neurologist at a symposium once.?

Al looked at his friend askance. He was used to Sam?s genius brain leaping off at a tangent, but this seemed so unrelated to anything that had preceded it, Al wondered if the intense cold had damaged Sam?s grey cells permanently.
?Bear with me Al. This guy ? Clements - no Klawans that was it, he wrote lots of books about the workings of the brain and various neurological conditions, based largely on case histories in his files. Inspirational. Anyway, one story he told me was about a student of his. She had MS, but remarkably spent years in remission and had no really serious disability from it. He debated whether it could be put down at least in part to a gift a classmate took to her in the hospital after her first major attack.?

Al?s curiosity was piqued in spite himself.
?Okay, I?ll take the bait. What was it??
 
High Hopes Chapter 14 cont

?Have you heard the Jewish folklore surrounding Rachel?s tomb just outside Jerusalem??
?No, but I?ll bet Ruthie has.?
?Exactly.? Pronounced Sam. ?Tradition has it that if a blue ribbon is wrapped around Rachel?s tomb and a certain prayer is said, pieces of that ribbon will preserve the health of the owner.?
?You don?t believe in that, do ya Sam?? Al was usually the superstitious one; Sam the Scientist was more skeptical as a rule.
?Doesn?t matter what I think, Al. Ruthie might just believe it. That?s what?s important. Besides, as Harold countered when confronted with the same negativity ? The atomic physicist Bohr was said to hang a horseshoe over his door, which earned him ridicule from his peers for his acceptance of superstition. Bohr replied that he?d been told they worked whether you believed in them or not!?
?I dunno, Sam, it?s a bit uh hokey don?t you think??
?Well, put it this way,? Sam persisted, ?What harm could it do? And if it?s a comfort to Ruthie, then it?ll have done some good, won?t it??
?I suppose so.? Al conceded. ?But now you?re not only proposing that I take more time out to go back to Texas, you?re suggesting I detour via Israel!?!?
?If that?s what it takes, Al.?
?What if you leap quickly? You don?t always spend days in limbo y?know.?
?Stop making excuses, Al. You?ll be back when I really need you, you always are. Just promise me you?ll go back and see her again.? Sam yawned again, though he tried to stifle it.
?If I agree, will you do like you?re supposed to and get some sleep??
?Yes, Poppa-bear. I?ll be good.? Sam gave him an endearing little boy look, ?I promise, now how bout you??
Al put his hands up in surrender. ?You win, Sam. I promise. Now go to sleep, y?hear? Don?t make me get Momma Parnell back in here, cos she?ll like as not tan your hide for ya!?
Sam sniggered, and pretended to look scared, though he knew it was an idle threat. ?No doubt!?
Then he hunkered down under the covers, and let out a few fake snores.
?I?m asleep, see?? he muttered. ?Fast >yawn< asleep.?
Before Al could contradict the statement, Sam had indeed begun to drift into that desirable state.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Thursday afternoon​


Sam had not been asleep more than a couple of hours this time, when a commotion outside his room roused him to full alertness. Even so, it had been a relaxing slumber and though he couldn?t yet claim to be back to 100% health, he felt quite refreshed, and considerably less achy.
Having soon realized that further napping would be impossible with the noise from the corridor; he decided to investigate ? his leaper?s instincts telling him that if something was going on in his immediate vicinity, then he should be in the thick of it rather than snoozing on the sidelines.

He sat up without much difficulty, but standing proved a bit more of a challenge. When he swung his legs out toward the floor the sight of his tightly bandaged left foot, and the increased circulation making it throb, reminded Sam somewhat rudely that he had sprained his ankle quite badly out on the mountain. Two days of rest, compression and elevation had reduced the swelling, but it was decidedly tender nonetheless.
The noise was still evident outside, though it seemed to be moving further away from his door. So Sam took a breath and cautiously rose, keeping his weight as much on his ?good? foot as possible. Using the bed, the walls, anything he could reach to steady himself, he made his way to the wardrobe and hastily dressed in the clothes B-J?s mother had thoughtfully put there. He didn?t bother with the socks and shoes, since his foot would not have taken kindly to the restriction.

Even after this delay, the sounds of excited or agitated voices still reached his ears, so Sam hobbled out of his room to track down the source of the din.
He saw a large group of what had to be reporters, accompanied by their photographers, milling around the corridor as if waiting for something or somebody. They seemed to know where they wanted to be, but were being prevented from attaining their target by hospital staff. One or two were trying the doors to other rooms nearby, as if they could sneak round a back way to their desired location. Many were arguing, pleading, cajoling, or trying to bribe their way into the room they were being denied access to. Some were trying to force their way in by sheer weight of numbers. Yet still they were held at bay.
Sam deduced from what he could overhear that the occupant of the room in question must be none other than Jill Kinmont.
Why couldn?t they leave her alone? This soon after the accident she was probably still fighting for her life in there. The last thing she needed was this media circus.
Sam was about to wade in and have a go at their insensitivity, when he passed a door they had left open in passing. One of the occupants happened to look up, and sharply reprimanded him for being out of bed.
?Momma!? he responded instinctively, changing direction and limping into Becky-Lou?s room to face the inevitable parental lecture.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

Lillian Parnell rose to her feet, both angry with her son for not following doctor?s orders, and worried about his welfare. B-J still looked exceptionally pale, even a little grey and she could see in his face that his ankle was paining him more than he?d ever own up to.
?Sit!? she ordered sternly, as if training a disobedient dog. After the first faltering step, she scuttled over and proffered her own feeble frame as support.
?Easy now, Momma?s here. Lean on me.? Knowing it would be unwise to insult her by insisting he could manage alone, Sam merely smiled his thanks and dipped his head respectfully. With her ?assistance? Sam dutifully made his way over to the bed, and as he reached it and took the proffered seat, Becky-Lou stirred.

Lillian Parnell was mercifully distracted from her intended tirade and began speaking to the girl, though she was not yet awake enough to fully register what was being said to her.
?Don?t you fret none, Becky-Lou, your Papa?s here, he just stepped out to use the bathroom, he?ll be back before you know it.? She took hold of the girl?s hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb.
For a second, the matriarch looked across at Sam and opened her mouth as if she were about to send him to fetch Mr. Carter back post haste. Then she remembered his injured foot, and her command that he should not be walking on it, and she shook her head ?never mind?.
?Bobby-Joe?s here, my boy came to see you.? Lillian was smiling as she patted the pale cold hand, but there was still criticism in her eyes as she glanced over at him again.
Sam half rose, though he was careful to rest his weight on his right foot. He leaned over and kissed Becky-Lou on the cheek, as he was sure B-J would have done. Despite her waif-like appearance, she was still attractive.

Like Sleeping Beauty at her Prince?s kiss, Becky-Lou opened her eyes and awoke with a loud sigh, bestowing a smile upon her handsome suitor.
?There she is!? exclaimed Mrs. Parnell, who was very fond of her son?s intended.
Becky-Lou blinked a few times, and took in her surroundings.
?Take your time, honey.? Sam recommended, remembering how weak and frail he?d felt when he first came-to. ?Just lie still and take it easy.?
?Good advice,? Lillian concurred, ?Shame you didn?t take it, Robert Joseph Parnell.? She gave him a nudge in the ribs, and he bowed his head contritely.
?I?m going to find William and let him know his daughter is back with us.? Lillian declared, heading for the door. ?You two just sit tight.?
?Yes Momma.? Replied Sam meekly.

For a minute or two, he merely sat by the bed, holding Becky-Lou?s hand gently as Lillian had done, and allowing her to regain her faculties gradually.
Then:
?Thank you, B-J.? she whispered, so softly he barely heard her.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

?Huh??
?You saved my life ? again.? She went on, her voice husky and rasping, as his had been.
?My pleasure.? Sam grinned at her, and kissed the back of her hand gallantly. ?I?m not going to have to make a habit of it though, am I?? he scolded gently.
?Not planning on it.? Becky-Lou promised. ?I think I?ve had enough brushes with death to last me quite a while!?
?Amen to that!? Sam smiled.

Leaning forward to kiss her forehead, Sam told her much as he?d been told, ?You should sleep some more, get your strength back. I?ll come see you in the morning.?
?Do you have to go?? Becky-Lou asked, not wanting her ?dreamboat? to desert her.
?Put it this way,? Sam responded, ?Your father will be here any minute. He?s probably gonna bust my chops for keeping you out all night!?
Becky-Lou laughed, and then coughed a little. ?I can handle Papa.? She attested.
?I bet you can,? thought Sam.
?Besides,? Becky-Lou looked him in the eye, ?nothing happened. Not in that way. Even though I really thought I wanted it to at the time.? She blushed. ?Didn?t you want to, B-J?? she queried, her eyes boring into him. It was one of those questions that it was virtually impossible to answer without risk of offending, especially with someone of Becky-Lou?s sensitivities.
?What I wanted, and what was sensible in the circumstances were two very different things, honey.? Sam settled for what was, in reality, more or less the truth.
?I?m glad now we didn?t.? she conceded. ?You were right, there?ll be a more special time and place.? Sam sighed with relief.
?Only if you get some proper rest and get yourself better,? Sam chided tenderly, bringing her back to the present.

She had been willing to acquiesce, for she did indeed still feel tired and weak, but at that moment she became focused on the ruckus outside.
?What?s all that about?? she asked, intrigued and a little alarmed.
?Nothing to worry about,? Sam hastily reassured her, ?Just a load of reporters trying to get the scoop on Jill.? The words were out before he thought of the impact they would have on this intense young lady who took things so much to heart. Sam immediately wished he?d engaged his brain before putting his mouth into gear. A careless word to Becky-Lou tended to have dire consequences, as he?d learned to his cost.

?Jill? Jill?s here?? Becky-Lou was sitting up before Sam could stop her, though her hand went to her head as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
?B-J, why didn?t you tell me?? she practically shrieked, leaning out of the bed to swipe him round the arm. ?You have to take me to see her. You just have to!? By this time, she was almost out of the bed, but Sam reached over and held her back.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

?For a start, honey,? he reasoned, ?You are in no fit state to go running round the hospital.?
?But?? she started to protest. Sam put a finger to her lips to prevent the interruption.
?For another thing, Jill?s in no fit state to receive visitors. Why do you think the reporters are so riled up??
?I guess you?re right,? Becky-Lou conceded with a pout, ?Maybe tomorrow?? she batted her eyelids at him, and twisted her hair in her fingers.
?We?ll see.? Sam was surprised but pleased that she had yielded so easily. ?If you promise to rest up now.?
?You too.? She countered, thus avoiding actually giving any promise herself.
?Yes, ma?am.? Sam smiled at her, settling her back into the bed and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. ?Sleep well, sweetie.?
Then he rose to his feet and hobbled out, to return to his room.

He really should have known better. When something appears to be too good to be true, it invariably is.

He was barely out the door when he heard a thud from inside the room. Turning on his heel ? not an easy maneuver when you only have one sound heel to turn on ? he shuffled back in as fast as his ragged gait would allow. Not surprisingly, he found Becky-Lou on the floor, sobbing softly to herself and trying to drag her unresponsive body toward the door.
?What on earth do you think you?re doing?? Sam asked incredulously, though in truth he had a pretty good idea.
?If you won?t >sniff< help me,? she looked up defiantly, ?I?ll get to Jill by myself.? She struck out with determination and dragged herself a little bit nearer.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. The girl was impossible.
As luck would have it, there was a wheelchair just behind the door - a big old-fashioned wheelchair with huge heavy wheels. Sam grabbed it, and leaning on it as much to support his own still weakened legs as anything else, he pushed it over to where she lay, which was fortunately not too far. It was as squeaky as it was cumbersome.

?Keep still, you silly goose.? Sam told her as he approached, feeling that the affectionate insult was somehow prompted by B-J.
?I?m not getting back in that bed until I see Jill for myself.? Becky-Lou hit the floor with her fist for emphasis. She did as she was bid though, and ceased her struggle to crawl to the door. She hadn?t really the energy to continue it, but there was no way she was about to let Bobby-Joe know that.
?In that case, the sooner I get you in this chair and down to Jill?s room, the sooner we can both get back to the rest we need.? Sam declared as he parked the chair next to her, and secured the brake.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

Getting her into the wheelchair would have been comical if it hadn?t been such a strain on both of them. Becky-Lou was still so weak from her ordeal that she couldn?t get her limbs to co-operate in the process, no matter how hard she tried. She?d already discovered the hard way that her legs couldn?t yet support her weight, slender though she was. For his part, Sam was far stronger than she, and under normal circumstances he could have lifted her with no more effort than if she were a feather pillow. Still, the muscles in his arms trembled and protested as he tried to lift her up, and his ankle pounded, and his back ached. It was altogether way more exertion than either of their cold-ravaged bodies should have been engaging in so soon. It took them several attempts, and more than once Sam almost ended up in a heap on the floor on top of her. By the time she was settled in the chair, they didn?t know whether to laugh or cry, but had barely the breath for either.

It was lucky that their respective parents hadn?t returned to see the tussle, for surely neither would have approved. Sam wondered what was keeping them, a part of him having wished in the midst of it that they would get caught, if only so that he could get some help with his onerous task. He was exhausted at the end of it, and he hated feeling so weak and feeble. Once more, he was leaning heavily on the wheelchair, wondering how much longer he could keep on his feet, especially when one of them was pulsing with pain. All the good his recent nap had done him was now negated, and then some.
Nonetheless, having closed his eyes momentarily and taken a couple of calming breaths, Sam began pushing Becky-Lou to her desired destination.

For a second time, he was barely through the door when a noise distracted him. This time it was the sound of the Imaging Chamber door opening, and Al popped in almost directly in his path, startling him, and making him stumble.
?Are you okay back there, B-J?? Becky-Lou asked ? genuinely concerned more for her boyfriend than for the fact that he had almost tipped her onto the floor again.
?I?ve been better.? Sam responded curtly, and truthfully.
?Sam?? Al was surprised to see his friend out of bed, which was clearly where he still needed to be.
Sam merely gave him a shrug. He couldn?t converse with the hologram without Becky-Lou thinking he?d flipped. The look he gave his friend bade him explain his sudden appearance, which was obviously motivated by more than a desire to see if he was awake again.
?Guess you?re wondering what brought me here?? Al interpreted. Sam?s eyebrows confirmed the deduction.
?I told Ziggy you weren?t fit to go gallivanting, and I can see I was right.? Al began. ?But she says you need to get Becky-Lou down to Jill?s room. Ziggy insists there is something Becky-Lou needs to hear. Jill?s just down the corridor.? Al waved his hand to indicate the direction. Sam shot him a look that clearly said, ?where the heck do you think I?m headed??
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

?Ah, yes, I can see you?re one step ahead of me!? Al observed, keeping pace with the limping leaper.

They soon reached the crowd, which had quietened down somewhat, making the squeak of the wheelchair seem obtrusive. While Sam had been struggling with Becky-Lou, the reporters had finally been allowed into the room to talk to Jill herself, but not for long. Just as the odd group drew level, they were being herded out to trade places with the anxious photographers, who burst in, flash bulbs blazing. The evicted reporters were talking to a couple, who were answering endless questions.
?That?s Bill and June Kinmont, Sam.? Al supplied.
?Jill?s parents.? Sam confirmed.
?I know,? whispered Becky-Lou - in awe of being so close to the great skier and her family. ?Shhh.? She waved her hand to bid him be quiet and let her listen.
Bill was just saying, ??If she wants to get back on those boards again, it?ll be okay with us. We don?t hold skiing responsible for this accident. It?s something that just happened. Bobby and Jerry haven?t quit skiing because of it, and we hope no one else does, either.?
Then a reporter asked: ?Mrs. Kinmont, just one question. How can you let your son go east to race when your daughter?s just broken her neck? Doesn?t it kill you to see him go??
?It doesn?t happen to be my decision.?.? June Kinmont replied, far more calmly than Sam was sure she was feeling inside. Sam couldn?t help but admire the grace and courage with which the pair handled themselves.
?Did you hear what they said?? Becky-Lou looked up at Sam, tears springing to her eyes.
?Yes, honey, they said nobody should give up skiing because of Jill?s accident.? Sam was mindful of Al?s original proclamation that his mission on this leap was to prevent Becky-Lou from giving up her future in skiing. He didn?t think that Becky-Lou was the sort to quit for fear of having an accident like Jill?s, but he was now sure that somehow the two events were inextricably linked. Ziggy had been right about her needing to hear Bill?s comment.
?No, not that!? Becky-Lou contradicted impatiently, ?They said Jill had broken her neck!?!? She was trembling with emotion. ?I have to see her, B-J, I need to see for myself.?

She reached down and tried to turn the wheels on the chair, but they were too heavy for her. Sam sighed again. If only she could put as much energy into her career as she did into getting her own way, she?d be a champion for sure.
Sam edged them forwards, and managed to line them up with the doorway. At first, they couldn?t see past the flashing of the cameras, but as the photographers were told their five minutes were up, and reluctantly allowed the Nurse to usher them out, Becky-Lou was able to sneak just inside the door, her boyfriend close behind, himself shadowed by a hologram. She took a horrified look at her heroine lying in the Stryker frame like a suckling pig on a spit, and gasped. Surely that couldn?t be Jill, beautiful Jill, with tongs coming out of her head ? literally out of her head like horns? The traction was holding her immobile, but Jill had heard the gasp, and a strange squeak, and knew that she was not alone following the retreat of the photographers.
?Who?s there?? she asked. ?Nurse, someone?s still here.?

?Don?t be alarmed, Miss Kinmont.? Sam hastily reassured her, wheeling Becky-Lou over next to the head end of the frame, being careful not to get tangled in traction wires. He leaned over into her field of vision. ?You probably don?t remember us??
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

?Bobby-Joe, isn?t it??
?Why, yes.?
?Hey! You two, out of here,? ordered the Nurse, who thought that her patient had been subjected to far too many visitors already.
?It?s okay, ? Jill told her. ?These are my friends.?
Becky-Lou beamed widely at that. The nurse looked skeptical, especially in light of the opening remark the boy had made, but she held her tongue, at least for the moment.
?Is that Becky-Lou with you?? queried Jill, unable to turn her head to look.
?I?m here!? the young lady in question piped up, waving her hand for Jill to see.
Jill put two and two together?
?Was that a wheelchair I heard? Did you fall too??
?Long story.? Sam interjected, pushing Becky-Lou to the end of the ?bed?, behind Jill?s head. He?d noticed that a small tilted mirror had been fixed above Jill?s head, to let her watch a television that had been brought to her room. Sam positioned Becky-Lou so Jill could see her in it. ?We got trapped - uh benighted - on the mountain, slight case of hypothermia, but we?re gonna be fine.?
?Slight case!? Al snorted, but a glare from Sam soon silenced him. They both knew it was a monumental understatement, but that the severity of their suffering was not the issue here.
?I?m glad to hear it.? Jill told them, with genuine relief.

?Oh Jill!? was all a tearful Becky-Lou could bring herself to say. ?Poor Jill,? she whispered almost to herself.
?I know! I look frightful!? Jill countered, and then added, ?I can?t even wash my hair with all this ? this hardware.?
Becky-Lou couldn?t help but snigger. With all Jill had to contend with, she was worried about her appearance.
?You look better than I expected you would.? Sam told her, honestly, and Jill smiled.

Becky-Lou tried for a moment longer to delude herself. Jill wasn?t that badly hurt. She?d be back on skis like her parents had said; she really didn?t have anything more to worry about than how she could wash her hair.
Then Becky-Lou looked again at the fragile figure immobile in the Stryker frame, and knew in her heart that Jill was unlikely to walk, let alone ski, ever again. She sniffed back a sob. Jill was not despondent, and Becky-Lou didn?t want to be the one to make her so. She was also a little sad for herself, though. She hadn?t really believed this scenario could be possible. She had made a vow not to ski until Jill returned to the piste, and now it was undeniable that this would never happen. Becky-Lou had not planned on retiring so early. She allowed herself a little sigh.
 
High Hopes Chapter 15 cont

?This set-back won?t keep you from taking your place in the team, will it?? Jill broke into her thoughts. Jill meant the hypothermia of course, but Becky-Lou?s mind was still on her private declaration.
?I think we?ve missed the final try-outs.? Sam told her, realizing that he was going to have his work cut out to resurrect Becky-Lou?s career.
?It doesn?t matter anymore.? Becky-Lou muttered.
?Oh, but it does!? Jill told her. ?I saw your run while I was waiting for mine. You?re ace!?
This took Becky-Lou totally by surprise. She had never in a million years expected to hear such high praise from the best skier in the world. She blushed.
?Not compared to you, Jill. I told myself on Sunday that I wouldn?t ski again until I can run against you,? she blurted out, ?You?ve always been the one to try and beat. Not that I ever could!? Becky-Lou was babbling.

Sam finally knew exactly why Becky-Lou had originally quit skiing. She had waited and waited for Jill to recover, as everyone at first expected her to because of the media hype. Then when it finally became clear that Jill would never ski again, Becky-Lou was too inexorably tied to her self imposed promise to take up her own career again.
?I don?t think I pose much of a challenge at the moment!? Jill stated without rancor.
Becky-Lou was about to protest, but Jill forestalled her. A part of her believed the propaganda that said she?d ski again. She wanted to believe it. She had always been strong minded and determined and used to getting her own way. Yet she hadn?t moved anything below her shoulders in over four days, and she knew deep down that she was in serious and lasting trouble.. She couldn?t bear to think that two sets of young girl?s dreams and ambitions had been shattered on that mountain along with her spine.
?Have you heard of my friend A-J?? Jill asked.
?Audra Jo Nicholson, yeah, she...? Sam remembered.
?She contracted polio, yes.? Jill wanted to keep it to the facts. ?I told her then that I?d ski for the both of us. Looks like - for now at least - you gotta ski for all three of us, Becky-Lou.?
?That?s quite a tall order.? Becky-Lou looked nervous, but excited too.
?You gotta promise me you?ll try.? Jill looked into her overhead mirror earnestly, holding eye contact with the girl in the wheelchair. Sam looked at her too, willing her to say yes.
?I?d do anything for you, Jill!? Becky-Lou declared, much to Sam?s relief. ?I just hope I can live up to your expectations.?
?Bingo!? put in Al; a squeal from the handlink telling him this was another success for Sam.
?All you have to do is give it your best shot. That?s all anyone can ask of you. Oh, and if it?s possible, have fun getting there.?
?Wise words indeed.? Echoed Sam. ?On which note, I think we should leave Jill to rest. She?s has a demanding day what with the press and all, and we?ve taken up far too much of her time already. Besides, you need to rest too, Becky-Lou.? Sam?s foot was crying out for rest too, but it had been worth it to get Becky-Lou back on track. ?You?re father will be wondering where we?ve got to. I don?t want him thinking we?ve eloped!?
Both young girls smiled at that, as they said their goodbyes.
 
High Hopes Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen​


Sam survived his encounter with Mr. Carter surprisingly unscathed. He?d been prepared to get it in the neck, not only for the whole ?nearly costing my daughter her life!? incident, but also for whisking her away from her hospital bed. It had been irresponsible, he knew, and he?d apologized for it sincerely.
Mr. Carter had been remarkably understanding about the whole thing. He knew how headstrong his daughter could be, and didn?t blame B-J in the least for anything that had happened. In fact he thanked Sam for bringing his daughter back safely. William had heard about the tinfoil incident in the ambulance ? it was the talk of the hospital how a patient who should by rights have been comatose and on the point of death had saved both himself and his girlfriend with an unconventional but brilliant suggestion.

Sam of course, being Sam, was not so lenient on himself. Once he?d seen Becky-Lou comfortably settled back in her bed, and Lillian Parnell had seen him once more tucked into his own, with a warm infusion of sweet tea to coddle him, he?d found himself at last alone with Al.
?You okay, Sam?? asked a concerned hologram.
?My ankle?s aching a bit, but I?m fine.? Sam assured him, though his tone was morose. He sipped at the warm tea gratefully, and a little dribbled down his chin. Sam set down the cup, surprised that his hand had been trembling quite so noticeably.
?What you mean is your ankle?s hurting like hell, if I?m any judge,? Al shot back, his keen eye having registered Sam?s pained expression as he left Jill?s room, and the relief with which he?d stretched out on the bed, ?but that?s not what I meant Sam. Something?s bothering you - emotionally rather than physically. What is it? Out with it.?

Sam sighed.
?I was just wondering if William Carter would have been so generous in his forgiveness if he?d realized that first time round, B-J didn?t put his precious Becky-Lou in danger. She wouldn?t have been up on that mountain if Sam Beckett hadn?t blundered in with his big mouth. I?m supposed to make things better, Al. Yet twice on this leap, Becky-Lou nearly died, when she?d been safe in the original history. Seems to me she was better off before I came into her life.?
?That?s harsh, Sam.? Al rejoined.
?But fair.? Sam insisted. ?I?d have gladly died to save her if the avalanche was the reason I was here, Al. Instead, we both almost froze to death because I told her something she wasn?t ready to hear. Something only I knew for sure at that stage. Maybe I shouldn?t be meddling with the past. Maybe I?ve just been supremely arrogant these last few years, assuming that I?ve been a force for good. Surely if I was really here to make a difference I should have leapt in earlier and saved Jill, poor kid. Did you see her in there, Al, with holes drilled into her skull like something out of a macabre freak show? She?s only 18 and her neck is broken - she?ll never walk, never mind ski, again. What a waste of a young life! Maybe??
 
High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

?Oh for Pete?s sake stop it, Sam!? Al interrupted. ?That?s enough! We?ve been through all this before. Ziggy has terabytes of data on people you?ve helped. Lives you?ve saved. How can you possibly doubt the good you?ve done since you began Leaping? Ok, so you both had a close call. Thanks to Dr. Sam Beckett you?re both alive and gonna be fine. What?s more, you could look at it as kismet - if you hadn?t ended up in the hospital here because of Becky-Lou?s intensely dramatic nature, she wouldn?t have heard what Bill Kinmont said about skiing, and wouldn?t have had that pep talk from Jill. Ziggy says both conversations are pivotal in getting Becky-Lou?s career back on track.?

?Talking of which,? Sam was distracted from his melancholic self-doubt by a stray thought, ?How could Ziggy possibly know exactly what Bill Kinmont was gonna say - let alone precisely when? It must have been reported in the press, and Ziggy accessed the records I suppose, ?? Sam mused, working it out even as he asked.
?Not exactly.? Al replied, ?She read the book! It was quoted in the biography E G Valens wrote about Jill?s life. Page 142 to be precise.? Al imparted this piece of trivia in the hopes of breaking Sam?s somber mood totally.
?That?s right!? Sam?s photographic memory flashed into developmental mode again. ?I remember now, I read it. They made two films too.?
Al seized his opportunity.
?Do you by any chance remember the details of the biopics? Or what you read? I bet you do!?
Sam thought for a moment or two. ?Yeah, it?s all coming back to me??
?Not exactly what you?d call a wasted life?? He cocked his eyebrow at Sam in challenge.
?Point taken.? Sam conceded. ?Triumph over tragedy as they say. I guess what seems now like the worst day of Jill?s life is actually the first step ? no pun intended ? toward her fulfilling His ultimate plan for her.?
?Just as Becky-Lou?s negative experience has ended up leading her nearer to a better future?? Al pushed.
?I suppose so.? Sam knew when he?d been manipulated, but accepted it graciously. ?You?re a wise man, Albert Calavicci.? He gave his friend a lopsided smile.

Al shrugged in mock modesty. ?Wise enough to know I should leave you to rest, kiddo. You?ve been overdoing it, that?s why you?re so cranky. You ought to be asleep.?
?With you looking out for me, I reckon I can?t go too far wrong, can I??
Al blushed and waved a dismissive hand, but couldn?t help feeling a little glow of pleasure that his efforts weren?t taken for granted.
?Sleep.? Al ordered simply.
?Okay, ?Poppa-bear?, I?ll be a good boy and take my nap now.? Sam?s smile widened, and he winked. They?d been here before too, not so long ago, which reminded him of something else, ?I?m not sure when I?ll leap, Al, so I want you to remember your promise??
?Trust me, Sam, Scout?s honor,? Al assured him, sounding slightly wounded at the implication of the reminder, ?I may not like it, and there?s every chance you won?t remember once you leap, but I made a promise, and I don?t break my promises.?
?I didn?t mean to imply otherwise, Al. I know you to be a man of honor and integrity??
?Oh, p-lease - spare my blushes, Sam!? Al sniggered self-consciously. ?Now shut up and go to sleep.? In order to make sure Sam didn?t procrastinate further, Al called up the door to the Imaging Chamber and walked out with a wave.
Sam kept his word and soon settled down to sleep, his body telling him he really did still need the rest.

~~~***~~~​
 
High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

?Looks like Sam could be leaping real soon.? Al announced as he stepped back into Project Headquarters.
?Ooooh, maybe we can ? like - spend some quality time together then, lover!? Tina whispered in his ear as he went by her workstation.
?Sorry, hon, I have another trip to make.? Al stated, matter-of-factly.
Tina huffed and turned her back on him, ?You?re going to see her again, aren?t you?? she accused under her breath.
?I have to honor a promise to Sam.? Was all Al would say.
?Like, whatever.? Tina flounced, disbelievingly. ?Well, if you?d rather spend your downtime with another woman, maybe I?ll have me a little fun of my own.? Tina sidled up to Gushie, draped one arm over his shoulder and with the other walked her fingers up his chest. ?How about it, handsome?? she made sure that though her voice was low, Al would catch every word. Her hand had now reached Gushie?s face, and she turned it by the chin so that he couldn?t avoid looking her in the eyes. ?Wanna show a girl a good time?? She winked at him, and licked her lips seductively.

Gushie blushed crimson and stepped back out her clutches, though with some regret. ?I?m very sorry, Tina. Any other time, I?d be honored to oblige you, but I too need to take a trip, with the Admiral?s permission. I have a ? a personal matter to attend to.? He cast his eyes downward, a look of profound sadness on his face.

?Permission granted.? Al replied gruffly. He neither knew nor cared what Gushie needed to do; he was just pleased that Tina?s little ploy had fallen flat. He knew she was just trying to make him jealous, but why did she have to pick Mr. Halitosis to do it with? On the one hand, Al was glad that she wasn?t suggesting two-timing him with one of the good looking young studs on the payroll, like some of the military guys in security - one of the guys who really did stand a chance of turning a young girl?s head permanently. On the other hand, it was a bit of an insult for her to suggest that Gushie - of all people - could be a serious love rival to the Admiral of Amour.
Before Tina could make things even more uncomfortable, Al beat a hasty, though dignified retreat, instructing Ziggy to inform him if Sam either leaped or needed his help.


~~~***~~~​
 
High Hopes Chapter 16 cont

Friday morning​



In the wake of their unwise expedition, both Sam and Becky-Lou had followed medical advice and done nothing even remotely strenuous throughout Thursday evening, the night, and the following morning. Consequently, when the doctor did his mid-morning rounds on Friday, he declared both patients fit enough to be discharged, much to the immense relief of their respective parents, and a concerned Coach Montgomery.
Hank drove them back to the Lodge to collect their things. William and Lillian were anxious to get their offspring home to Beersheba Springs as soon as possible, where they could fuss over the teenagers and make sure they recuperated thoroughly.

Though not on the scale of Jill?s roomful of good wishes, they had received cards and flowers and messages of support from their teammates whilst in the hospital, but Tammy and the boys had not been allowed to visit in the early stages, and since the competition was over, they had all flown back home already. So had all but a handful of competitors from the other teams.

Sam was going through the motions, keeping up the pretence of being B-J, but he really didn?t know what more he was expected to do. Becky-Lou had confessed that she?d vowed to refrain from skiing until Jill was back in competition, which explained why she had originally hung up her skis forever. This time round, she had heard Bill Kinmont?s comments, and Jill herself had urged Becky-Lou to fulfill her potential. Surely this was the crossroads that had needed navigating, and now she was on the right road? Which meant that Sam?s work here was finished and he ought to be leaping out. Yet he felt no hint of the tingle that warned him his departure was imminent.
His clue came when they brought out their skis to load them on the roof rack of Hank?s station wagon. Becky-Lou was looking at hers with a strange faraway expression in her eyes.
?Penny for them?? Sam intruded on her reverie, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Becky-Lou gave a little shrug, as if she were not sure herself where her thoughts were taking her. She looked up at the mountain, and then lowered her eyes to stare once again at her skis.

At that precise moment, Al entered the scene, centre stage.
?What?s up, Sam?? he asked, without preamble. ?Ziggy says the odds of Becky-Lou skiing again are slipping back down.?
Sam frowned and gave a little shake of his head to indicate that he had no idea what was going wrong.