Date: Tue, 1 Oct 1996 18:28:09 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: The Impossible Dream -Chapter 3 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 3 One lone tear trickled down his cheek as he watched the casket being lowered into the ground. A soft hand squeezed his gently as if it convey a deep sympathy. He looked at the owner of the hand and squeezed back. He was grateful for the support. He watched as a man with graying hair and blue eyes took a handful of dirt and sprinkled it on the descending casket. He recognized the look in the man's eyes. He had that look fifteen years ago and he probably had it now. A look that expressed deep sorrow for a great loss. The ceremony done, all who attended began to walk away. Three, however, lingered a while longer than the others. "Al, are you sure you want to do this?" Tina questioned gently. Al looked at her with appreciation. "I have to. For Beth... and for myself." "Shall I stay?" Al shook his head. "No. It'll be okay." Tina nodded. She kissed Al on the cheek and headed for the car. Al took a deep breath and walked over to the man with the graying hair. "Dirk Simon?" he said to get the man's attention. The man looked at him. "Al Calavicci." He extended his hand. "Of course," Cirk said, accepting the hand and shaking it. "I'm grateful that you could come. Beth wanted us to meet. She said we'd get along fine together." Al smiled. "Beth had always been a great judge of character." He sighed slightly. "Tell me, what was she like? I'm mean, after you married." Dirk smiled at the memory as he walked away from the grave. "Beth never changed. Sweet, charming, intelligent. A good mother and a wonderful wife." "Children?" Al questioned. "How many?" "One son. Daniel," Dirk told him. "Did she stay in the Navy?" Dirk shook his head. "She got out. Became a doctor." Al smiled slightly. "I'm glad. She always wanted to be a doctor. I'm glad you were happy together." "What about you?" Dirk asked. Al raised his eyebrows. "Me?" He paused. "Five wives. No children. A few odd government jobs. That sort of thing." Dirk frowned. "I thought the lady with you..." "Tina?" Al questioned. "Just a friend." "I see." Dirk paused. "I hear you're an admiral now. Beth was so proud of you when she found out. But she always said you'd go up in rank." Al gave a short huff of amusement. "I wonder how she knew." Dirk looked at him curiously for a moment but let it drop. Al himself was lost in his own thoughts when he felt a soft vibration on his side. He exhaled. This wasn't the place to be paged. He turned to Dirk. "It was good to meet you, Mr. Simon," he said, extending his hand. "Although, in such circumstances..." "I totally agree," Dirk replied and shook Al's hand. "Perhaps we shall meet under better circumstances." "I hope so," Al told him. Dirk smiled. "And my name's Dirk." Al returned the smile. "I'll remember that." He turned and walked to Tina as Dirk went on to his own car. "How'd it go?" TIna asked. "You remember me calling him a 'legal nozzle'?" "Yes?" "Well, you can take out the nozzle part." He walked to the door of the red Ferrari Testarosa and opened the door for Tina. "I've just been paged," he told her as he closed the foor. He went around and got into the driver's seat. "Looks like Sam's leaped again." "So, we're going back to New Mexico?" Tina questioned. Al paused. "Not yet. After the reception. It doesn't feel right not to be there." He started the car. "We'll leave tonight, though. Okay?" Tina nodded. She had a worried look in her eyes. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Al looked at her. He didn't answer. ************************** Shortly before Gushie was awaken by Ziggy to page Al to the Quantum Leap Complex, Sam Beckett was looking about, trying to gauge exactly where he was. His befuddled mind, however, took in two pieces of information: a window just in front of him and a vintage 1975 Harley-Davidson motorcycle just to his right. When Sam looked into the reflective surface of the window, he saw not his own reflection but the reflection of a man about thirty-eight years old. The man had black hair cut short in a kind of David Bowie style. His eyes were deep black and his face was chiseled with classic Roman features. He was an overall handsome man but he looked as if he might be arrogant. Sam smiled widely. He had a full set of teeth, minus one in the far back left corner. "Yes!" a male voice said from behind him. "He's dashing! He's handsome! And if he doesn't get into the office right away, he's in trouble!" Sam turned around to see a man with gleaming blond hair and teal eyes. He had a smile on his face that told Sam he would rather see Sam get in trouble than to see him go to the office. "Trouble?" Sam asked, wondering what exactly the man meant. "Yeah. Susie's on the rampage," the man told him. "You'd better move your ass, Jack." "Yeah, sure," Sam answered. "Okay." He looked arou. Sam walked over and opened it tentatively. A closet. He turned around and saw another. He walked to it and opened it. This room had a table, a vending machine, a several chairs. An overflowing ashtray sat on the table. A break room of some sorts. "Jack, what the hell are you doing?" "Looking for you, I think," Sam answered, glad to know that Jack really was his name and not just some colloquialism the blond man used. What else did that man call him. *Stutzman. Jack Stutzman.*, Sam thought his borrowed name. "You think?" the short, brown-haired woman said sarcastically. "I said the office, not the break room." She sighed. "Come on, Stutzman." She turned and started walking. Sam hurried to catch up with her. *So, this is Susie*, he thought. He followed her into a room at the other end of the warehouse. Susie waited for him to enter before closing the door behind them. "What the hell was that at practice this morning? Huh?" she turned on him angrily. "Well, I..." Sam started, having no idea what she was talking about. Susie laughed. "Ohh! I wish I had my camcorder! Bill and Shaakeen would never believe this one! Jack Stutzman is at a loss for words!" Sam didn't say anything. What could he say? She was right; he was at a loss for words. "Well?" Susie said expectantly. "Well what?" Sam asked. "Aren't you going to say it?" "Say what?" Susie sighed. " 'So, how is ol' Shake 'n' Bake and Mr. Hollywood?'" she answered, putting an an act. "Shake 'n' Bake?" Sam asked, confused. Susie's face became serious. "Are you okay, Jack?" "I'm fine. Why?" Susie huffed. "Well, usually you're not so serious about everything. I mean, you're the one that nicknamed Shaakeen 'Shake 'n' Bake'." She came closer to him until she was right in front of him. "I guess I'm a little tired from the practice," Sam answered, flying by the seat of his pants. "Oh, yes," Susie said, sarcasm in her voice. "The practice. Now, you want to tell me why you did that dance on the semi?" "I danced on a semi?" Sam asked incredulously. Susie slapped him hard on the left cheek. Sam unprepared for the strike, staggered to his right. "Don't treat me like an idiot, Jack! You know precisely what I'm talking about! And if you ever do it again, I'll skin your hide!" She quickly opened the office door. "Get out!" she ordered. Sam was only to willing to obey. As far as leaps were concerned, this one was going down hill fast. The second he was out of the office, Susie slammed it behind him, stinging Sam's buttocks. A black man leaned against a wall nearby, laughing. Sam walked away, heading towards the break room. He decided not to do anything until Al showed up with what he was there to do. *************************** Al hadn't bothered to go home and change out of his black suit and tie. Instead, both he and Tina agreed it would be best to go directly to the complex. After all, they were approaching being twelve hours past the time Sam leaped. "What's the situation, Gushie?" Al asked as he and Tina entered the Control Room. "Admiral," Gushie said with a little surprise. "You've been gone a long time. Ziggy's been concerned." Al helped himself to a handlink off of Ziggy. "See how fast you can get here driving from San Deigo. Just give me an update." It was Ziggy, the project's parallel-hybrid computer, that answered his request in a silky feminine voice. "Dr. Beckett has leaped into Jack Stutzman, a stuntman in a small stunt show just outside of Colorado Springs, Colorado. It is June 15, 1989. Happy Birthday, Admiral." Al smiled. "Thanks, Ziggy. Anything on what he is there to do?" "I'm afraid I have insufficient data to form a theory," Ziggy told him. "After twelve hours!? Why not?!" "I do not have the visitor's real name," Ziggy told him. Al looked at Gushie questioningly. Gushie shifted slightly. "The visitor passed out the minute he saw himself in the table mirror," Gushie told him. "He just now woke up. Dr. Beeks is in the Waiting Room with him." Al sighed. "It's late, Gushie. Go get some sleep. You too, Tina. I'm gonna talk to Verbina." Gushie gave him a warningful look. "You know how she reacts when you go into the Waiting Room without her permission." "Who said I was going into the Waiting Room?" Al replied, giving Gushie a mischeivous smile. "Besides, there's no way I'm going to see Sam with my hands empty. He's probably mad enough at me as it is." He walked over to the Waiting Room door and placed his palm on a silver plate by the door, thus opening it. He stepped into the doorway, preventing the door from closing. He leaned gently into the frame and waited. Verbina Beeks, a short attractive black woman, stood by a long table-like bed, talking with someone who looked like Dr. Samuel Beckett, a quantum physicist of some note. Upon hearing the Waiting Room door open, she turned her head to see Al leaning against the doorframe. She frowned. He knew better than to disturb her when she was with a guest, as she and Al preferred to call the person now sitting on the table-bed, a smile on his face. "Don't like him much, do you?" the guest asked Verbina upon seeing her expression. "I wouldn't say that," Verbina said in response as she motioned Al with her head. Al gave a brief nod of thanks and came in. "You were letting in the flies," Verbina teased as Al approached her. "I'll be careful next time," Al replied with a smile. He turned to the guest. "Al Calavicci," he introduced himself. "Stutzman the Stuntman." Al's brow furrowed. He turned to Verbina for clarification. Verbina shook her head. "Hey," Jack put in, watching them, "it's what I go by. So, accept it." He looked around. "Say, where the hell am I? Norad. Peterson Air Force Base. The Air Force Academy?" Al smiled. "Actually, you're not in Colorado anymore." Jack sighed. "I could have sworn this was Norad. I mean, who else but the military could afford something like this?" V erbina leaned to Al. "I already told him what was happening," she whispered to him. "He just won't give us his real name." "Terrific," Al muttered. "If you ask me, this whole thing sounds like something out of a science fiction movie," Jack put in. Al laughed slightly. "Yeah, it does kind of." Jack stood off of the table. "Well, regardless of whether all of this is true or not, I have to get back to the arena. If I'm late again, Susie'll kill me. And, well, a woman scorned..." "Stutzman," Al said quickly, "you still haven't given us your real name." Jack stared at him. "And give you the chance to put me in jail? No way, Jack!" Al stepped back a moment. "I thought that was YOUR name." Jack glared at him. "What do you want my real name for? Ah, hell with it! I'm probably out of a job anyway. Mike Selantono. But don't tell the cops." "Italian?" Verbina questioned, watching Jack, trying to gauge what kind of man he was. "Greek," Al and Jack answered in unison. Jack smiled at Al widely. Al looked at Jack with slightly raised eyebrows. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" "I could use a native Colorado draft like Fattire," he told Al. Al shook his head. "Sorry, no alcohol." "Rats," Jack replied without conviction. "How about a blond?" Al smiled widely. "Well, we'll see about that." He turned about and left the Waiting Room with Verbina. "So?" he asked her. "So, Mr. Selantono has a big ego and is a womanizer." She turned to Al. "Kind of like you," she added with a smile. "Thanks," Al replied sarcastically. "So, is he going to be a problem?" "Oh, he already has been," Verbina told him. "How did you get him to tell you his real name?" "I think he was trying to aggravate you," Al told her. "Maybe it was because I'm a man." "Great," Verbina said. "He's a chauvinist too." They stopped walking once they were in the center of the Control Room. "I really don't think he'll be a problem," Verbina told Al. "Oh, he'll try to hit on a few of the ladies and maybe even try to look down a few blouses but he's essentially harmless. However, I don't think Sam's gonna like who he's leaped into." "Neither do I," Al concurred as he headed for the Imaging Chamber. "Gushie, center me on Sam." --------------------------------------- So, how am I doing? How's my driving? Dial krfreymu@mail.uccs.edu Chapter 4 to come soon. Be patient, though. I am a working student who's basically fitting this downloading thing in between classes and work and sleep and Dean drooling.... Kat