From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 15:00 +0000 Subject: Double Dragon, Part 2/2 DOUBLE DRAGON PART 2 The tall steeple reminded me of pictures I'd seen of Salisbury Cathedral, but there was a square tower as well. It was certainly very beautiful. The great west doors looked big enough to accommodate a giant, but there was a smaller rectangular door set into the right-hand one that was just right for ordinary mortals. Bethan and Di went ahead into comparative darkness, but Patti stopped me as we got closer. "You don't know how to say an 'll', do you?" she enquired. I shook my head and hunkered down to her level. "It's *easy*, you just put your tongue up behind your top teeth and it comes out." Patti did the noise several times, then I tried. I think the words 'dismal' and 'failure' come to mind; I'll never make a Welshman. Patti's young butterfly mind slid mercifully onto a new topic. "Have you seen the inside of our Cathedral?" I don't know about Evan, but I knew I hadn't, so I shook my head. Her eyes grew wide and sparkling, "Just wait till you see the Epstein 'Majestus'. It's wonderful! Step inside the door, mind the steps and look up." I was about to comply when Al popped up out of the stonework to my left. I jumped slightly, "I do wish you wouldn't do that, Al." "Sorry, Sam. It's not as if I can warn you that I'm about to appear. Ziggy says there's a 89.9% chance that you must do what you came to do in the next two hours." He spoke deliberately, with heavy emphasis on the crucial words. I nodded my head in understanding, then continued through the door into the Cathedral. I walked down the first three steps, stopped on a wider fourth step and looked up, just as Patti had instructed. I think I gasped, and I heard Al whisper reverently, "Oh, my God..." It was a magnificent sight. There, soaring up over the center of the nave was probably one of the greatest jewels of modern religious sculpture. Four curving legs of stone held up a mighty cylinder of the same, in the face of which were niches holding golden figures of angels and bishops. But what held the eyes the most, compelling the gaze of any on-looker, was the truly majestic gray metallic figure of Christ, captured in the instant of either transfiguration or ascension. Al finally bent his head and made enquiries of the hand-link. "That's the Epstein 'Majestus' that Patti was talking about," he whispered,"It was put here as part of the restoration work after the church was bombed during the War. Epstein also made the figure of St. Michael and the Devil for Coventry Cathedral." Al's voice had taken on that awed whisper that many people feel compelled to use in holy places. "Do you like it?" It was Patti, tugging my hand. "Yes," I admitted,"it's incredible." Patti took me with her on a guided tour of the Cathedral, Al helpfully filling in the missing details where necessary, but nothing compared to the monolith in the nave. Al got me on my own in the Lady Chapel; Patti was busy identifying the flowers which decorated the east wall behind the altar. "By the way, I've checked your hypothesis about John; I'm sorry Sam, we've tried every scenario, but they all pan out the same. I wish we could save him too, but Ziggy insists that history can't be changed; not this time anyway." I nodded slowly with regret. By this time Patti had finished and wanted to find her parents; so we rejoined Bethan and Di, who led the way out by a door in the south wall, through the churchyard and on to the tea party. Just past the churchyard wall was a small road which had two houses facing the church. Balloons were tied up outside the left-hand one, and as we got closer I could hear music and excited conversation drifting out of the open front door. No guesses as to which house was in party mood. The tea party was very informal, but perhaps I was helped by Patti dragging me from room to room until we found the food and a tiny portable record player. "Christine's got some great records," Patti enthused,"she lets me play them sometimes." I dutifully squatted down and flicked through yet another record collection. Lots of Pat Boone, big band music and even a couple of Elvis discs. At the back was the 'children's section'; Winnie the Pooh, Toytown, the Teddy Bears' Picnic and Danny Kaye's version of 'Tubby the Tuba'. I turned to Patti. "Just you wait till you have kids, Patti. There's going to be a great version of this by Robin Williams in 1995." The words were out before I could stop myself. "Robin Williams?" Patti inquired, "Is he Welsh?" I guffawed; "No, bless you, Patti, he's not Welsh; but I daresay he could do the accent standing on his head." At least I managed better than Al, who was alternately coughing and wheezing with suppressed laughter over his handlink. I managed not to catch Al's eye as Patti dragged me towards the food table. There was a good selection of all kinds of stuff; potato chips, sandwiches, sausage rolls and things on cocktail sticks as well as cake and some sliced cake that had been buttered. "What's that?" I whispered in Al's direction, but he didn't seem to be able to respond to me yet. "That's bara brith, silly," Patti informed me. Well that was *helpful*, but at least it looked and smelt a lot more appetising than chitterlings. I picked one slice up and tried a small bite. Ohhh, heaven! It was a sort of cake, I think, but packed with fruit and spices. My taste buds went into severe pleasure overload. While my brain was still working, I put half a dozen more slices on a clean plate; purely for scientific conformation, you understand. "Saaam!" Al whispered urgently, "You gotta look at this!" I turned around carefully on the balls of my feet, expecting the worst. I should have known better. Across the room was a strawberry blonde with her back to me, who now had Al making a detailed survey of her charms. "Hey, Sam; she's gorgeous; just wait till you get a look at her from the front. She's got curves that'd make a monk look twice." He lay down on the floor, "She's wearing stockings too." I gritted my teeth, "Al, you're setting a bad example to Patti." I said it just loud enough for him to hear me. He jumped up guiltily, passing through several of the guests, including the blonde. Patti gasped in wonder and clapped her hands. "How does he do that? I wish I could do it." She jumped up and down enthusiastically. Then the blonde turned around to see where the noise was coming from. She certainly was stunning, I have to give Al credit for that. Green eyes, clear complexion and curves that must have been poured into the summer dress she was wearing. I blinked as she smiled; either my hormones or Evan's were working overtime. "This *babe* is Christine's cousin Myfanwy," Al supplied helpfully,"Apparently you went to school together and you last saw her six years ago when she was......16. According to Ziggy she was a scrawny kid with pigtails at the time. Boy, has she blossomed since then; and in all the right places too!" Myfanwy moved closer and I took her hand while Al continued, "Oh-oh; she's been having problems with her professor; you know, the usual sort, 'Sleep with me and improve your grades'. Slimeball! She wrote you in desperation some time ago and you've been giving her moral support." I picked up on the last suggestion. "Myfanwy, do you need more help with your *problem*?" I said softly. She nodded and added,"Can we go somewhere more....private?" I turned to Patti, but she had already run off into the corner and was busy talking to another little girl of her own age. "Patti will be alright here with Christine for a bit; look, Aunt Susan is just a few feet away." I looked and saw a lady who was indeed standing close by. "That's Christine's mother," Al added helpfully. That clinched it. I offered my arm to Myfanwy and let her lead me outside into the garden. Almost as soon as we got outside she collapsed into tears. I held her till they passed, then found a handkerchief in Evan's trouser pocket to help dry her tears. Suddenly Myfanwy looked a lot more like a younger sister than an object of desire. I glanced back at the house, but nobody had followed us. One of the windows upstairs was a floor-to- ceiling glazed double door with a small balcony looking out onto the garden. I turned back to Myfanwy as Al arrived beside me. Myfanwy pulled herself together well. I felt it had taken a lot of courage on her part to trust me with her tears. "Thank-you, Evan; you're one of the few people who will understand. You know how clumsy and shy I was as a kid and the difficulties I had because I was a 'swot' at school." I know I had some teasing in the late Sixties, but even then it was easier for boys. Myfanwy continued,"I know you pulled my pigtails too, but you used to walk home with me and you really listened to me. You used to get teased because you wanted to be an artist. I didn't even get kissed until I went to University, and then suddenly I became far too visible and all the boys wanted was to get inside my knickers. Then my History lecturer said he could arrange for me to get a first if I slept with him. I've come home for the weekend, but I don't know if I've got the strength to go on." If only I could tell her that I understood completely; I had suffered sexual harassment as a woman myself. "You've got to report him, Myfanwy. If he thinks he can get away with it, he'll try again with someone weaker than you are. Anyway, you're clever; you will probably get a first anyway." Myfanwy smiled,"Thank-you, Evan; but I don't know if I can do it on my own." Al chimed in "Tell her you'll go too, provide moral support." I did so, not knowing if Evan's schedule could stretch to it, but hoping that it could. Myfanwy beamed, "Thank-you so much, Evan," then she threw her arms round me and kissed me. I'm not made of stone, so I started to kiss her back before my common-sense prevailed and I pulled away. "I'm sorry, Myfanwy. You'll think I'm just another of those creeps who's after your body." Al chipped in with an unrepeatable remark, then his handlink squealed at him. "That's the second life you had to save, Sam! In the original history, Evan got overwhelmed and succumbed to temptation, Myfanwy thought *all* men were creeps and took an overdose. Now you've made it possible for her to build up a relationship of trust with Evan *and* beat the nozzle too." Myfanwy started to giggle unexpectedly, "I'm sorry, Evan; kissing you is just like kissing my big brother." "That's done it, Sam. Evan's pride has just taken a severe knock that is finally overcome when Myfanwy graduates. Then they both realise what they've been denying to themselves all the time and get hitched. They end up working for an auction house together," Al beamed all over his face, "I'm a sucker for happy endings." I was almost expecting to leap when there was a horrendous crash from the direction of the house. Somebody screamed. There, framed in the broken glass of one of the big windows was Patti. I saw jagged edges and blood, so I ran into the house. Al was right in front of me. "Quick, this way, Sam." I took the stairs two at a time. Patti was standing on the carpet, her face as white as a sheet. "I can't move my right arm," she said, almost conversationally. I realised that shock must have set in. I picked her up and carried her downstairs, following Al to the kitchen. I found some clean tea cloths in a drawer and put Patti up on the sink to administer first aid. Both her legs had been cut, so I wrapped them first. There was a tiny scratch on her ear and a slightly bigger wound on her forehead, neither of which needed much attention. Then I saw Patti's arm and the room spun slightly as I curbed my emotions from showing. Al had already turned green, but when he saw what the glass had done, he went white and disappeared. What looked like a big lump was hanging off Patti's arm like a piece of raw meat. I swallowed hard and carefully wrapped tea clothed round it, binding it back on her arm. There seemed to be altogether too much blood around. Dewi,Bethan and Susan rushed in. "Patti's going to be all right," I assured them, "But she needs to get to a hospital." "I'm so sorry," cried Susan,"I only turned my back for ten seconds and she'd vanished." I noticed Christine huddled up under her mother's left arm. She had tears silently coursing down her face. "I only meant to go in Mummy and Daddy's bedroom for a minute." I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Christine. I bet the glass had something wrong with it, otherwise it wouldn't have broken so easily." I said the last bit for Christine's parents as much as for her. There followed several minutes flat panic, at the end of which I found myself bundled into the back of a strange car with Bethan, Dewi and Patti, who was holding me tightly with her good left hand. A man who I understood to be Christine's father took the wheel. We drove to the hospital at a breakneck speed and I ran inside carrying Patti. In less time than it takes to tell, she was whisked out of my arms and I sat down with Bethan, Dewi and Christine's father, whose name was apparently John. Then the long waiting began. John and Dewi took it in turns to pace the floor. After about two hours, the doctor came back, leading Patti by the left hand. Bethan ran and took her into her arms, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. "Patti's going to be fine. We've sewn up the wounds on her arm and legs. There's a special bandage on her right arm which will help the wound there to knit properly. She didn't lose very much blood, due to the excellent first aid of her uncle and the fact that you got her here so quickly. I suggest that the best treatment is to go home to her own bed and bring her back in the morning. If you have any worries, or any other symptoms manifest themselves, then please bring her back again sooner." He smiled reassuringly at all of us. I looked at him very closely to see if he might be hiding something from us, but his face was honest and open. So John drove us back to Patti's home. On the way Dewi offered to pay for the damage. John said something in Welsh that obviously meant something like 'Forget it'. Bethan smiled and thanked him for all his help. To our amazement, Patti ate a hearty supper before going to bed. I helped as much as I could; I could see delayed shock in both their faces. After both Bethan and Dewi were seated in their front room, I used a trip to the bathroom as an excuse to visit Patti. She was still awake and the colour had come back to her cheeks. "Thank-you for helping me today, Uncle Evan....sorry, *Sam*," she said. At that moment Al returned. He had changed his clothes again, this time for a jog suit in shades of pale green and blue. It looked so casual for him that my eyes boggled. "Hi, Sam. I'm sorry I took so long, but there were mitigating circumstances." He looked so uncomfortable, I decided to have my own back. "Admit it, Al, you barfed." He hesitated, then nodded,"You know I'm no good around yukky stuff,Sam." "You mean Al threw up?" I nodded. "Poor Al. It's all better now, look." She showed him her bandage. I swear Al began to go a little green around the gills again. Patti continued,"I'm not going to forget either of you, ever; Sam and Al. One day I'm going to help you back if I can." I turned to smile indulgently at Patti, she smiled back and I leaped. I found myself surrounded by people inside a building. The volume of numbers kept me from falling. I took a quick look around. Everyone was dressed smartly, including me. Black bow tie and tux by the look of it. Well, if I wasn't a transvestite, I was a man again. And no flares, so that ruled out the worser excesses of the Seventies. There was a letter in my hand. I took it out and began to read, then nearly dropped it in shock. It was addressed to Doctor Samuel Beckett! Could I be....home? But this was definitely *not* project Quantum Leap. And I would stake money on it not being the Nineties either; it just didn't have the right 'feel'. I managed to fight my way across to the men's room, discovering in the process that I was in the bar of a theater and it was interval time. At last I made it and approached the cloakroom mirror with trembling hands. It was my own face! But I was a younger man than I *thought* I remembered. And I *know* there used to be a streak of silver in my hair.....but not until the Project days. So, at a guess I was between twenty five and forty. And I had heard American accents out there in the bar, so I was very nearly home. I touched the glass with my left hand. 'It's really me....I can stay where I am for about fifteen years and I'll finally be able to go home.' I decided to read the letter; it was my only clue till Al showed up. 'Dear Doctor Samuel Beckett, I have been following your work in experimental physics for some time. I read with interest your most recent article in the 'New Scientist' and would welcome the opportunity of discussing it at greater length. I am performing in an off-Broadway recital this Easter Saturday, so in the hope that your taste in classical music will be similar to my own, I am sending you two complimentary tickets. Please join me and the other musicians for supper after the show. Yours sincerely, ' followed by an indecipherable signature, but the notepaper was mildly scented, which at least suggested a lady. I looked back at the date; it was February 3rd 1980. Well that made me twenty six, going on seven. I couldn't remember for sure if I had been in New York in 1980 originally. Until Al showed up, I would have to assume that I had. I found my ticket stub in my jacket pocket and negotiated my way back to my seat. The seat on my left remained unoccupied, so I surmised that I had not been able to find a companion to join me. That was hardly surprising, since from my university days until 'Starbright' I had been busy amassing doctorates to the exclusion of all else. The second half of the concert began with a selection of popular arias from a tenor and bass/baritone, ending in the well-known duet from 'The Pearl Fishers', which earned loud applause. Then a trumpeter, a violinist, an oboist and a recorder player performed two movements from the second 'Brandenburg' concerto. They were followed by a group of ballet dancers, who did something more modern in style. Lastly a lady came on stage and began to sing. She was dressed in a long royal blue gown and had a lovely mezzo-soprano voice; I was a little too far back to make out the details of her face, which was framed with dark brown hair. She sang a beautiful rendition of 'Wir Wandelten' by Brahms,(which could almost have been written for the relationship between Al and myself), a daring modern piece by Betty Roe and 'Non so piu' from 'Figaro', which was greeted with such enthusiasm that she pulled an encore out of the hat. As soon as the music started, I knew I was lost. It was Rusalka's 'Hymn to the moon', which has held a special place in my heart for a long time; 'Tell him, oh tell him, my silver moon, Mine are the arms that shall hold him, That between waking and sleeping, he may Think of the love that enfolds him....' The lady sang it faultlessly, her voice teasing out the longing in the piece, soaring up to the top note at the end like a lark. I put my hand to my face and felt tears that I hadn't been conscious of shedding. I guess I knew right then that it was this unknown lady who had sent me the tickets and that I had to meet her. I passed the rest of the concert in a daze, then found my way somehow around to the stage door after the rapturous applause at the end. The man on the door seemed to know I was expected and let me through. I walked down the corridors, hoping to see Al, or some clue as to where I was meant to be going. Then a door to my right swung open and there stood my mystery mezzo-soprano. There was something vaguely familiar about her, which I couldn't at first identify. "Good evening, Doctor Beckett," she said,"Please come in, have a drink of something and tell me how you liked the performance." It was the merest trace of a lilt on the last word that did it. "Patti?" I enquired, before I had time to think. She took a step backwards, "You know who I am? I know you, but there's no way you could tell who I am......unless...." "Unless I was already travelling in time," I supplied, then added,"How's your arm, Patti?" Patti took another step back and held out her right hand, which was shaking. I examined the scar, then on an impulse, bent down and kissed it. I heard Patti's sharp intake of breath. "You're really real. I always remembered you, then when I saw your picture in 'New Scientist' alongside articles in experimental physics and time travel, I took a wild guess that I really met you when I was four years old. It was like a dream or something out of 'Doctor Who'. I'm glad I was right." I smiled,"You were right, Patti. You have a lovely voice." I looked into her eyes. They seemed to be more blue than ever against her skin and the darkness of her hair. Patti had turned into a lovely young woman. I did a swift mental calculation, realising that there was a lot more than simple math going on. I was attracted to her like iron filings to a magnet or a moth to a flame. In 1980 I was a free agent and so was Patti. She smiled and I felt the strong pull towards her again, but I hardly knew where to start. "This is crazy," I said, "We hardly know each other and yet..." Patti's eyes grew wider. "I know," she whispered,"I feel it too." I felt my hand trembling as I touched her cheek and we drew together. She moulded to me as if she had been designed to be there. I only had to bend my head slightly to take her lips with mine. It was the longest, sweetest, most overwhelming kiss I can ever remember sharing. I had to try it all over again for a second time just to make sure I wasn't dreaming or imagining the things I was beginning to feel. I was just coming up for air for the third or fourth time when I heard a very loud discreet cough next to my left ear. I jumped slightly and looked towards the source of the disturbance. "Al!!" I gasped, inadvertently. Then I realised that Patti had said exactly the same thing and was looking right at him too. There were several seconds' hiatus while we all looked at each other and confirmed that we could all see one another. Al punched his handlink feverishly whilst talking. "Hi, Sam; glad to see you again Patti. Ziggy's not sure why you can see me, Patti. At a guess, it's because you saw me before in '62. I'm not used to being seen, especially by attractive young women. I wish it could happen more often!" Patti stretched out her left hand and proved to herself that Al was still untouchable. "How *do* you appear like that? You must be a real person, but I don't understand why you're not here, like Sam." Al started to explain about neurological holograms, but I cut him short. "Look, Al; could you just let me know who I'm here for, apart from Patti," I paused and we exchanged a glance that warmed me right down to my toes,"and then let us...um....carry on our....*discussion*." Al's handlink squeaked violently and his mouth went into a very firm and serious line. "There's a big no-no from Ziggy on any further 'discussion' as you so delicately put it; 95% certainty." He shuffled uncomfortably. "But that's crazy, Al. I *know* what I'm starting to feel, and it's got 'always' and 'forever' wrapped up in it." I looked at Patti, who simply glowed with returned emotion. Al punched his handlink several more times. "Ziggy says that if you stay here, you will marry Patti very soon, develop 'Starbright', have twin boys in 1985 named Thomas and Albert....oh,Sam!, develop 'Quantum Leap' and, after leaping around for an indeterminate number of years, come safely back to the bosom of your family and live happily with Patti to a ripe old age." I retorted,"But that sounds fine to me, in fact it sounds positively idyllic. I'll put myself and Patti down for that future right now." Al looked up with pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sam, it just can't be like that," his face struggling with some hidden secret. I began to get slightly angry. "If my whole future is at stake, then you've got to tell me. I....we....have a right to know." Al paused silently, obviously still torn in two directions. He looked at Patti first. "I'm sorry, kid. You're gorgeous, and you could be so good for Sam. The last thing I want to do is hurt you," then he turned to me,"*Somebody* once told you that they'd play Rusalka's 'Hymn to the Moon' every night that you were away." He waited to see if my Swiss- cheesed brain would let me remember. Then an image appeared in my mind; dark hair, a sweet perfume and a low woman's voice repeating Al's words in my mind. For a split second I saw her face and Patti's side by side. "Ohmygod....Donna," I breathed,"I loved her or, rather, I'm going to love her, in just the same way; an instant certainty that overwhelmed me." I looked into Patti's eyes, "How can I chose between you? I *know* that I love *you* right now." Patti's eyes filled with unshed tears. "And I'm falling in love with you, but I can see you're confusing me with Donna. I sang her song after all, didn't I? If your future is meant to be with her, then I have to tell you to go." Her mouth twisted strangely. I struggled with the two futures in my mind, the one I had learnt from Al, and the other, here in Patti's arms. I took Patti's face gently between my hands, then kissed her again. If anything, it surpassed all the other kisses because it was bitter-sweet. "You know that, if I could, I'd stay here; but Al is my only link with my true reality. I've had to gamble my very life over and over on his advice. I can't just throw it away." Patti looked for a long silent moment into my eyes, then her chin and mouth hardened slightly. "Very well, Sam," she said and suddenly began screaming. I jumped back as two burly security men burst into the room and began dragging me outside. "He tried to get fresh with me," Patti said. Then I realised what she was doing and managed to give her one last smile, putting in all the love, encouragement and pride that I could. Al meanwhile stabbed furiously at his hand-link, then turned to Patti. "I shan't forget what you did today, Patti. Ziggy says there's a better than 90% chance you find someone else, eventually. I wish you all the luck in the world." His voice was full of admiration and sympathy. Then I Leaped. I found myself standing outside a block of anonymous tenement flats in the pouring rain. Al turned up almost immediately. "Don't worry about Patti," he said with the next breath,"She got married to a cellist in 1985. They've got two children; a girl called Mary and a boy called Evan Samuel.... What d'you make of that?" I shook my head slowly. "I'm sorry Al. I don't think I remember anyone by those names." Al's eyes seemed to mist over slightly. "Well all I can say is, 'Thank God for Swiss-cheese memories', Sam. You'll never know what you've lost."