Date: Thu, 29 Aug 1996 18:58:31 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Theresa - Chapter 3 (revision) Message-ID: Okay. Found the problem. This is the REAL revision! This is a revision of this chapter. I found out some great information from a reader about the Muslim religion which I felt must be put it the chapter. Thanks, J. Ammerjim! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 3 A Death in the Family "Thank you," Theresa told Verbina as the black woman gave her a cup of coffee. Verbina joined Theresa at the cafeteria table, sitting across from her. "So, tell me about yourself," Verbina requested gently. "I understand you met Al when you were four." "Well," Theresa hesitated. "I'm not really sure. Maybe it all was a bizarre fantasy." "I'm a very good listener," Verbina coaxed. "And I keep an open mind." "This is going to sound crazy," Theresa warned. "I was in the kitchen and I remember that our dog, Wookie, had taken the head off of my favorite doll. So, I tugged on my mother's nightgown to show her but it wasn't my mother. It was a man I hadn't seen before. I ran away to my bedroom. My sister tried to convince me it was just my imagination and that's when I saw another man. They told me they were angels sent to help my brother but, for some reason, I could only touch Sam...the first man...not Al." "Not a lot of people remember something from when they were four that clearly," Verbina told her. "Not a lot of people are visited by angels," Theresa pointed out. "Do you think Admiral Calavicci is the same Al who visited you?" Theresa thought for a moment. "Yes, I do." "Why?" "I don't know. There's just something about him. I mean, he allows me to stay in his home, buys me a new outfit, fixes me dinner. He knows things about that brief time in my life which I had never told anyone." She finished her coffee with one last sip. "What else?" "His voice. His face. The look in his eyes." "What of his eyes?" Theresa sighed. "Most men I've met had a look of lust in their eyes. They have it when we meet and they have it when we part. I'm not saying I didn't see that look in Al's eyes; it was. But there was something else: an almost paternal look as if he just wanted to spend the rest of his life caring for me." Verbina smiled. The last thing she saw in Al was a paternal side, except towards his soldiers and Sam Beckett. She decided to change to the other subject she had. "Theresa, you seem such a nice girl. How did you ever wind up on the streets?" "You ask a lot of questions," Theresa told Verbina as she stood up with her mug. Verbina followed. "Tough habit to break, I guess," Verbina replied. "What do you mean?" Theresa asked. "Why do you want to know so much about me?" "I just want to help," Verbina told her as she refilled her mug. She noticed Theresa wasn't refilling, even though she seemed to want another cup. "You can have some more if you want." "No one gets anything for nothing," she told Verbina as she poured the coffee. "You don't trust me very much, do you?" Verbina asked her, returning to the table. "I know a shrink when I see one," Theresa replied. She didn't sit when she returned to the table. She looked down at Verbina with a little suspicion. "So, I'm a psychiatrist. Is that why you don't trust me?" "I've been with at least a dozen psychiatrists, all trying to find out why I think I saw an angel. I prefer to end our conversation right now." "If you'd like. But, I'm not trying to find out why you saw Al," Verbina told Theresa as Theresa turned to walk away. "I already know why you saw Al. I want to know why you remember seeing him." Theresa stopped. "You believe me?" "You're not the only four year old girl to see a strange man who claimed to be an angel." "Then...I'm not alone?" "That's what we want to find out. Normally, a child of four doesn't remember a few specific days in her life. But you did. And if you remember, maybe others remember." Theresa's eyes squinted. "You want me as a guinea pig." "Of course not. You don't have to do anything if you don't want. But I think you want the same answers we want. And I know you have questions you want answered." Verbina waited for a response. Theresa was thinking of what had been said to her. "I've always remembered faces and names,": she finally said. "I remember my father's face, even though I wasn't yet three when he left us. I can tell you exactly who my teacher was in pre-school: Miss Kelly, a tall brunette with bright green eyes and glasses." "What about other things? School?" "I did okay in school, mostly Bs but I don't really remember anything specific. Mostly I remember the faces of my teachers and my friends." Verbina smiled. "You know, you still haven't told me how you got to be on the streets." "That's a personal matter, Ms. Beeks." "Please, call me Verbina. Why is it personal?" "Does it matter?" ********************************************************************* "What do you mean 'he takes a long walk off of a short, high roof'?" "Apparently, his uncle's death was too much for him. And because he commits suicide, the law firm is sold to another firm and three-fourths of the employees are laid off. Ziggy says that you're here to just be with him and let him know you're there for him." "Wasn't Chris there to help him through his uncle's death?" Al looked at the handlink. "He was here for two days and then he went to Mec..." He hit the handlink. "...Ca. Mecca on a religious pilgrimage." "He didn't stay? He's Jeff's best friend!" "He's also a devote Muslim, Sam. Muslims are required to take a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in their life. Since Chris is a devoted Muslim, he tries to go every year. Apparently, Jeff insisted that Chris go. The next day, March 26, 1990, Jeff commits suicide. And I suggest you get back out there because, in just one minute, the police are gonna come into the restaurant to tell Jeff about his uncle." Sam stood up to leave the Gentlemen's Lounge. "Sam," Al stopped him. Sam turned to see Al point to the wheelchair. Sam nodded his head as he sat back down and rolled himself out of the lounge. As he approached his table, he noticed two men approaching the table from the other side of the restaurant. "How are you doing, buddy?" Jeff asked as Sam arrived at the table. For a moment, Sam was confused. "Oh," he said, remembering his excuse for leaving the table. "I'm okay now. Thanks." "Mr. Jeffrey Sterling?" a voice asked for confirmation as Sam finished his sentence. "Yes?" Jeff turned with Sam to see the men whom Sam had seen before. The one in the foreground was average height with strong face. He looked very athletic. The other man, the one who had spoken, was slightly older then his partner but seemed more laid-back than the younger one. "I am Detective Lieutenant Richard Fulton and this is Lieutenant Kevin Burke. May we talk to you outside for a moment, sir?" "What about?" "It concerns your uncle, Joseph Sterling." "What's wrong?" Jeff was concerned. "I think it would be best if I told you someplace more private, sir." "You have my vote on that one," Al put in. "I think you should go with them," Sam told Jeff. "It looks important." Lieutenant Fulton turned to Sam. "Are you related to Mr. Sterling, Mister...." "Raj-ad-Allah. No, I'm a friend." "Perhaps you should come along." "Certainly. Let us pay for..." "We can just have them put it on our bill," Jeff interrupted. "It's not like they can't find us." Sam nodded and followed Jeff and the two officers out of the restaurant and into a private reading room just outside of the restaurant. "The Olive Room is a private club," Al told Sam, sensing his friend's confusion. "It has its own restaurant, library, recreational facilities. And you and Jeff are members." "Please, sit down, Mr. Sterling," Burke offered Jeff. Jeff sat down in one of the reading room's chairs while Fulton and Burke sat on a nearby couch. Sam pulled his wheelchair close to Jeff. "Now, what's this about my uncle?" Jeff asked. Fulton was hesitant as he answered. "I'm afraid your uncle was killed earlier this morning during a robbery. Unfortunately, we must ask you to come with us to identify his body and to answer a few questions. It's only a formality." He paused for a moment, seeing the shock on Jeff's face. "I'm truly sorry." "Killed during a robbery?" Jeff said mostly to himself. "I don't understand." Al was looking at the handlink in confusion. "Sam, Ziggy says you have to say something." "What?" Sam asked. "We do not have all the details," Burke spoke. "There's still a few questions that need to be answered." Al shook his head. "It's something important with the Muslim religion. She says you have to repeat after me. La illaha ill Allah." Sam looked at him in confusion. "Just say it, Sam." "La illaha ill Allah," Sam said aloud. "What was that, Mr. Raj-ad-Allah?" Fulton asked. "It's Arabic," Jeff explained for Sam. "It means 'There is no other deity but God'. It's a part of his religion." Sam looked at Al. Al nodded. "Jeff's right, Sam. Muslims say that whenever they hear that someone else has died so that they are reminded of their own mortality and how short their lives can be. Jeff's explaining it just shows you how close he and Chris really are." Fulton nodded at Jeff's explanation, not really understanding. "We can go whenever you're ready, Mr. Sterling." Jeff understood the meaning of the statement. "Of course. Just give me a few minutes alone." "Certainly," Fulton answered, leaving the room with Burke in tail. Sam started towards the door. "Chris?" Sam stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Maybe I don't want to be alone after all." Sam nodded his head and returned to Jeff's side. There was a long silence as Jeff stared into nothing. Al stood in front of them in silence. He was watching Jeff with a mixture of sympathy and concern. "Talk to him, Sam," he finally said. "I'm sorry, Jeff," Sam started before Jeff interrupted with his next sentence. "Damn it, Chris! I love that old man! I can't think why anyone would want to kill him, can you?" Sam shook his head in agreement. Now was no the time to argue how Joseph Sterling was killed. The fact remained that Jeff lost his uncle through violent means. He needed someone to comfort him, not to argue with him. "Are you ready?" Sam asked gently. Jeff shook his head. "No. But we'd better go anyway." He stood and started for the door. "Sam," Al spoke as the Imaging Chamber door opened while he pushed buttons on the handlink. "I'm gonna see if I can get a little more on Joseph's death. I have a feeling we're missing something on this one." Sam heard the Imaging Chamber door close, indicating that Al had left. ******************************************************************** Al noticed Dr. Beeks as he entered the Control Room from the Imaging Chamber. He looked around. Theresa wasn't with her. "Where's Theresa?" "Tina's showing her around the non-vital areas of the Complex," Verbina answered. "Is that what you pulled me out of the Imaging Chamber for?" Al asked with a slight smile, indicating that he was toying with her. "I've got the information you wanted," Verbina told him seriously. "Tell me," he told her, putting the handlink into the pocket of his silver jacket. "She's definitely the same Theresa..." "I knew it!" "...and she has a photographic memory for faces. That's why she remembers you and Sam. She even remembers her father." Al played devil's advocate. "I remember my father." "Do you remember your mother?" "Of course, I do," Al answered with slight anger in his voice, not for Verbina but for the woman who had left the family when Al was only three. "Could you draw her from memory?" Al shook his head. "Theresa drew her father and she hasn't seen him since she was barely three." "She could have seen his picture recently," Al argued. "She hasn't seen any of her family, in person or in photo, for the past three years." "She's been on the streets since she was eighteen?" Al asked in astonishment. "Seventeen. Her mother died in a car accident when Theresa was a junior in high school. When her mother died, Theresa dropped out of school and took a bus to Albuquerque." "Why would she do that? She has a brother and a sister." Verbina sighed. "At the time of her mother's death, she'd been going through some emotional problems. She had just broken up with her boyfriend and she felt ignored by Kevin and Susan. After her mother died, she felt completely abandoned. She tried to get a job in Albuquerque but failed. So she turned to prostitution." She stopped for a moment. "Al, her brother and sister are worried about her. I just know it." Al sighed. "I have my work cut out for me, don't I?" Verbina nodded. "So, where do I start?" "You already have. You've shown her that there are people who will help her without asking for anything in return. It's up to her now. The only thing you can do is encourage her to find a career she would enjoy." Verbina paused. "She's a very good artist, you know. The drawing of her father was exact." "May I see it?" Al asked. Verbina took it out of her lab coat pocket, unfolded it and gave it to him. Al looked at it carefully. "She is good, isn't she? So, you think she'd make a good career as an artist?" "It's all up to her. And you. She trusts you. If you encourage her to do what she wants, she will. If not, she may just wind up on the streets again." Al nodded. "Ziggy?" "Yes, Admiral?" "Can you locate Tina?" "She has just left level three and is proceeding to level one. There is a ninety-seven percent chance that Miss Brookner is with her." "Thank you. Now, I want you to try to find as much information as possible about Joseph Sterling's death. There's something about it that feels familiar and I don't like it." "Yes, Admiral." "And tell Tina I'll meet her and Theresa in the cafeteria in an hour. I'm gonna go and talk to Chris. He probably knows Jeff better than anyone in the world." As he spoke, he left the Control Room and entered the Waiting Room, going to finally meet the man into whom Sam had leaped. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 4 coming soon Kat Freymuth