From: AKulsum@aol.com Date: Mon, 28 Oct 1996 15:27:52 -0500 Message-ID: <961028152750_1348200830@emout08.mail.aol.com> Subject: road 4/9 "The Road Taken" pt. IV By Thursday, Sam had successfully completed his first day as a secretary. He had gotten Katrina a job at a small insurance firm with good pay and nice benefits. Having done that, he was uncertain what else he could do from his end until Monday. He had another two work days to get through, with a weekend sandwiched in the middle. He was sitting on the couch, surveying the room, debating whether to unpack some more and risk Katrina not liking his arrangement when he got back, or to go catch a movie. He eventually decided that Katrina didn't have the money to spare on a movie and he set about unpacking. Al showed up halfway through the arrangement. "Hiya, Sam. Everything going all right?" Sam smiled. "Yeah, pretty good. What's up?" "Oh, not much...just thought I'd check in on you one more time for the night." Sam sobered. "How's Katrina?" Al sighed. "Dr. Beeks says she should be okay, but she's taking it kind of hard. Can't imagine why," he added under his breath, just loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam decided it was not the time to press Al. "Any more on the mugging?" "Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. Let's see," Al pulled out the handlink and whacked it to light up the colorful conglomeration of cubes. Sam often wondered how Al could read the darned thing because of the life of him he couldn't remember. Perhaps he just swiss-cheesed it. "Okay," Al resumed, pulling out a cigar. "Monday, September 17, 1953. Her body was found at the corner of Elm and-" smack "-Fifth Street. She had been beaten to death and the report says she was apparantly out for a walk when she was attacked. That's all we got. Just don't go for a walk, that's all." "Yeah," Sam said. "Really." There was a short pause. "I told her about my father," Al said quietly. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How did she take it?" He shrugged. "I dunno. I left right after I told her. Verbeena was pretty ticked at me for a while, but she's since cooled down. That's what she's for, right?" "Perhaps you should avail youself of her services as well." "Yeah, well, I don't recall asking for your advice, Sam. Besides, I have a therapy session with Tina in a few minutes." Al raised an eyebrow and lifted his cigar in a goodbye slaute. "She's gonna examine me. Very....closely." He winked and the door closed on him, leaving Sam with a little more confidence in his mental state. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------------------------------------------------- Tina lit the final candle and stood back to survey the scene. She was going to get it out of him tonight, one way or another. She hated seeing Al like this and desperately wished he would let her help him. The door opened behind her and Tina turned, stepping willingly into his welcoming embrace. He gave her a rather passionate kiss and she pulled away, giggling. "Dinner'll burn, Al." He grinned. "You cooked? Sweetheart, you know you didn't have to do that." She took his hand. "I know, but I thought we could just sit and.....talk." He frowned. "Talk?" "Let me just take out the roast," Tina said, aware of his mood change. "Pour the wine, will you?" She left the room and he surveyed the small apartment as he poured half a glass for himself and a full glass for her. Inwardly, he sighed, looking at the bottle. Tina's cryptic comment made him think he'd probably need something a bit harder. She brought dinner back in and for a while it went very well and Al began to relax. He was so caught up in telling her about the new personel requests he was considering that he didn't notice the look in her eyes that said she decided it was time to talk to him. She leaned forward, resting her head on her interlaced fingers and looked him straight in the eye. "Al?" she said softly, to catch his attention. "What's going on, honey?" Al shot up out of his chair. "I _knew_ you were going to ask me this! Tina, darling, you wouldn't understand." "Try me." *Damn...that line hadn't worked with Sam either. Have to give her credit for trying, though.* "Sweetheart...I have to go." "Oh no!" she cried, getting up and taking his arm. "Al Calavicci, you are going to come over here and explain your behavior to me." She drew him over to her sofa and pulled him down onto it, beside her. "Talk." He gave a small sigh of resignation and stared down at his hand she still held in hers. "Sam leaped into my mother." There, straightforward and painless. *Yeah, right!* Al felt the grip on his hand tighten first in surprise, then in sympathy. "Oh, Al...it all makes sense now." Despite himself, Al felt himself relax minutely and he leaned back into the couch. "Does Sam know?" Al nodded and she squeezed his shoulder. "You haven't spoken to her....about....have you? "No," he responded hoarsely, resting his head on her shoulder. "Sam wants me to but I can't. I tried, over and over I tried, but every time I go in there, I just get so angry. I can barely contain it. Besides," he offered her a wry grin, "I don't think she likes me. Not that I entirely blame her; I don't like her either. It's just....the irony." Tina wrapped her free arm around him and pulled him a little closer. The next few moments passed in silence as, for the first time, Al felt the advantages of letting someone else help carry his burden. "It was Wednesday." "What?" Tina pulled away slightly to look at him. "It was Wednesday," he repeated. "And it was raining. I remember because I was soaked by the time I got home from school." "Al...." "I got home and the doors were all locked. The neighbors weren't home, so I went around to the back and pried open a window. Trudi was only five at the time and she was locked in her room, crying. I remember I picked the lock on her door. She had been in there all day." He closed his eyes. "My father came home that evening and he had the police out looking for her. It wasn't until later that night that he found the note." "What did it say?" Al shrugged against her. "I never saw it. My father burned it that night along with most of the stuff she left behind. I never heard him talk of her again." ^Please come out.....^ Al clenched his hand tight onto hers. "What?" ^Al?^ "Tina....." "Al, please don't close up on me now," Tina pleaded. "What is it?" "I hear her." ^Where are you?^ "She won't go away!" "Who?" Tina pressed. Al almost told her. He almost said, "my sister's voice just keeps ringing over and over in my mind," but he couldn't. He just couldn't talk to Tina about that. He had already told her much more than he normally would; any more would be pushing it. Tina stifled an exasperated sigh. "Maybe that's just your subconscious trying to tell you something," she said, partially grasping at straws. "Maybe you just have to resolve all this with your mother before you can find peace again." "I don't know if I can." One of the candles in the room flickered and died.