PRELUDE

    Sam blinked disoriented as the blue electrical hue deposited him into another life.  His left hand was poised high in the air with a blue dry erase marker in his left hand.  He twirled the marker in his hand thoughtfully and glanced at the dry erase board in front of him wondering what his host was supposed to write.  The sweet rancid smell from the marker drifted into his nose and he quickly put the lid back on it.  He deposited the marker on the board and sighed, letting his head hang.   He wondered how long it would take Al to tell him what he was supposed to accomplish in this person's life. 

    He looked down at his attire.  This person, whoever he was, was wearing black lace-up Ropers, a black pair of jeans, a black belt along with a black silk shirt.  This person was strictly into the color black or they were very, he hated the word, "hip".  He frowned, his body language also accommodating how he felt about being hip or anything else having to do with the 70’s.  ‘Lord, help me, if it’s in the disco era,’ he thought miserably.  He wondered if he was going to have to wait on Al to find out who he was.  He patted his front pockets, then his back pockets, hoping to find a wallet on his person.  Unfortunately, nothing was found.  He shook his head.  He sighed heavily and looked up to the ceiling, "Al?"  He questioned, thinking that if  he just called on him that he would miraculously appear. 

    "Yes’m?"   A voice from behind him asked. 

    Sam's eyes widened as he heard the voice.  He knew that timbre didn't belong to his holographic pal that was in his own time.  He closed his eyes and let out a tsk, knowing that he had been caught in the act of checking himself out.  He tilted his head then slowly turned around to see to his quick count, twenty-one junior high kids in the room, all looking at him oddly.  "Ahm, nothing."   Looking to the left of where he had been standing, he found a teacher's desk and he went to it hoping that he hadn't made yet another mistake in assuming that he was the teacher. 

    "So, ahm, Ms. Boyd, what is our homework for today?"  A blonde haired young lady asked. 

    "Er..." he began, as he realized that he was a woman again.  He searched the desk to find the information that she requested.  ‘Didn't the principals require the teachers to leave that type of information on the desk at all times just in case they needed to come in to view it?’ he asked himself as he searched.  Coming across a large spiral that said Lesson Plans on it in big bold letters,  he smiled.   ‘Now if I just knew what today's date was.’  He thought as he scanned the room to find the date on a poster made just for the date.  ‘November 4, 1998. Great.’  He scanned through the pages to find it.  "Yes," he said triumphantly.  "Yes, your homework for today is,"  he paused as he read the information.  "Edit your own persuasive essay.  You will want me to be persuaded to buy the item or persuade me to change my thoughts. Keep in mind," he ad-libbed, "That I'm a very hard person to persuade." 

    Upon his last statement, the bell rang and they sat still looking at him anticipating his actions.   Sam didn't know exactly why they sat there.  He finally motioned toward the door saying, "Oh, you may... you may go." 

    He watched as they picked up their belongings and headed toward the door, several staying behind to pick up the room and put chairs back in the order in which they were when they arrived.   He smiled a thank you to them as they waved a good-bye.  Once everyone was gone, he sighed as he looked up at the clock on the wall.  It was only 8:55 and he could hear the passing teens in the hall outside his door.  He hung his head wondering how he was going to make it through the day not knowing any of the kids names and not knowing the schedule.  He raised his head to see more students coming into the room, slowly filling up the seats for his next class.  He softly moaned, "Oh boy." 

 PART ONE

       Big Spring, Texas 
       November 4, 1998 
    

Sam looked at the neatly written lesson plans in his hands once more.  He was from what he could tell, the English teacher for the sixth grade.   He frowned.  He wasn’t sure why, but he had the feeling that he was being watched.  He turned back toward the door to see a man dressed in parachute pants, and black T-shirt that had a yellow emblem of a steer head on it.  He was leaning on the doorframe looking at her   "So, what are your plans?"  he asked casually. 
        "Ahmmm," Sam managed to say as he laid the book on the now disheveled desk   He wasn’t sure if the gentleman meant the lesson plans or plans for the evening ahead.  "I don’t know." 
         The man nodded then smiled at him.  He waved to Sam and left.  Sam wasn’t sure what that entire conversation was about, but at the moment, he could care less.  He was now confronted with the dilemma of teaching these kids. 
       Sam looked down at the lesson plans on the desk once more. For second period, they had to edit their persuasive papers.  As he scanned through the remainder of the day, it was the same thing over and over again.  There weren’t anymore details given.  He began to open the drawers of the desk, searching for another assignment to give to them, not heeding the students that were filing into the room. 
       In the first drawer, he found pens, and excess paper that Ms. Boyd used for writing little notes to herself on.  On the top side drawer, he found all the other supplies; paperclips, rubber bands, markers and the like.  He opened the next drawer to find her candy drawer.  He quickly shut it. 
       There had to be something else for them to do. Editing their persuasive papers didn't seem like it would keep them busy enough.  He looked beside the desk at the large filing cabinet, and quickly scanned through the neatly labeled and ordered files. Either Ms. Boyd was the most organized person in the world, or she just had the time to be that organized.   He couldn't tell as he continued to pull out the folders and go through them, putting them back haphazardly. 
       He had been so intent on finding something else for the students to work on that he hadn't heard the Imaging Chamber door open a few feet away from him.  Al came up behind him looking at how he was stuffing the files back in and commented, "Ya know, she spent time making sure that those were in some order.  The least you could do is put them back." 
       Sam stood there with his eyes closed for only a moment.  He looked out at the kids only to see them milling around the room, talking loudly, and not paying any attention to the fact that there was something written on the board for them to accomplish for the day.  He whispered, "If you can’t see, Al, I’m a little busy at the moment." 
       Al cocked his head at Sam indignantly.  He sighed and pulled out a cigar from his inner pocket as Sam cleared his throat trying to catch the kids attention. "You'll have to do more than that, Sam." 
        Sam placed the materials back in the filing cabinet and closed it making a mental note to make sure that they were put back properly when he had time. He then said, "All right, class."  The noise level in the room increased instead of decreasing.   "Excuse me!"  he said loudly enough for the class to hear. 
        Some of the students quieted down while the others were still talking in a small group.  Sam went over to them and said, "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. It's time to for class to start.  Have a seat and come to order." 
       "I'll have egg drop soup."  One of the students said causing the entire class to giggle as he went back to his seat. 
       Al smiled at the comment and commented, "Cute, kid." 
       Sam shot Al a dirty look then looked back at the young man.  "That’ll be enough of that, sir,"  Sam said flatly trying to not make it apparent that he didn’t know the kids name, but at the same time trying to put some force behind his words. 
       "Yes’m," he said smiling at Sam. 
       "All right, now class, get out your persuasive papers."  A groan spread through the room but obediently, each pulled out papers that belonged to them.  "Now, what we are going to do today, is edit them.  You will pair up into twos and you will switch papers and let the other person edit your paper.  You will move around the room after every fifteen minutes, letting someone new read your paper and edit what was written.  Does everyone understand the assignment?"  Sam wasn’t even aware what he had said, but whatever it was, he was glad that Ms. Boyd had taken over.   ‘Sometimes those bleed throughs were the best things to get and other times…’   Sam thought letting the thought die. 
       "That was very well put, Sam,"  Al said as he lit the cigar in his hand. 
       Sam nodded as he approached his holographic pal, finally looking at him for the first time.  Al was dressed in a canary yellow shirt, with a black tie, finishing off the ensemble with white pants and a white jacket.  He looked rather subdued in his dressing habits today, but Sam still couldn’t understand why Al dressed the way that he did. 
       "Pair up,"  Sam said, and saw the kids actually do what he had said.  He was surprised.  He had heard stories of how the education system wasn’t what it should be and yet, this class seemed to be different.  Or it could be the way that Ms. Boyd handled her classes.  Whichever it was, he was happy with the outcome. 
       Sam placed his hand up to his mouth trying to hide the fact that he was talking.  "So, why am I here?" he whispered. 
       "I thought that you didn’t have time now to talk?"  Al smirked. 
       "Al," Sam moaned as he closed his eyes. 
       "All right."  Al grinned and pulled out the handlink from his pocket.  He punched on a few of the buttons on it and the handlink squealed out only for Al to hit the side of it.  "Darn thing, always stubborn."  He glanced at Sam trying to imply something, but didn’t say anything.  He then began to read the small data stream that spilled out from Ziggy.  "Let’s see here, it’s November 4, 1998.  You have leapt into Adelaine Boyd.  She’s 28 years old.   You, I mean, she is a sixth grade English teacher in Big Spring, Texas, home of the Big Spring …"  Al stopped and stifled his laughter. 
       "What?"   Sam asked almost bringing himself to the kids attention.  "What is it?" 
       "Steers," Al said.  "Home of the Big Spring Steers.  God, how horrible.   Most high schools have interesting sounding mascots, but this?  Imagine what the guys thought?  Playing as a Steer… a fixed cow?  What did they call the girls teams?  Heifers?"  Al chortled.  "Lady Steers," he read from the handlink. "That’s even worse.  What is that?  A she-male?"  Al cringed at the thought.   Sam snickered but covered his laughter by clearing his throat, which caused Al to continue reading the information. "Okay.  Okay.  Let’s see," Al said trying to calm himself down.   "That’s all we have for now, Sam.  Sorry." 
       Sam nodded then shook his head not understanding why Ziggy wouldn’t ever have the information that he needed.  He ran his hand over his face as he looked out at the kids who were talking quietly and reading essays, each one doing their assignment for the moment. 
       "Well, when we get more information for you, I guess that I’ll be back."  Al opened up the Imaging Chamber door for the rectangular blue light to peep through.   He began chuckling again as he thought about the mascot again.  "Steers."  The last thing Sam heard was Al’s laughter as the Imaging Chamber door shut. 
       Sam shook his head and held back a chuckle as he began to walk around the room.  He re-directed a few students back to their assignments when he saw them talking.  So far, he hadn’t come across something that he couldn’t handle.  'Sixth graders couldn’t be that difficult, could they?'  he wondered thoughtfully. 
       The rest of second period passed by quickly.  When the bell rang for dismissal, he waved them away with a smile.  He looked up at the clock.  It was going to be a long day.   He went back to the desk and scanned through the lesson plans finding a schedule.   Third period was a planning time, which meant no kids.  He looked around the room seeing a pieces of paper that had been scattered from the kids that had just left.   He went around the room picking them up wondering what he was here to fix.  So far, he hadn’t seen anything terribly drastic that needed to be changed. 
       He stood up from picking up the paper and turned suddenly to see someone in the doorway.  Sam cocked his head to the side when he saw the young man’s face.  He looked down.   "What can I do for you?"  he asked trying to get around from having to call out a wrong name. 
       "Ms. Boyd, you said that I could come to you if I needed help, right?"  he said as he put his books on the desk before him. 
        Sam moved towards the young man, throwing the trash away and stole a glance at the notebook hoping that the name was there; and it was:  Darryl Jackson.  "Yes, I did, Darryl.  What’s wrong?"   Sam leaned against one of the desks and crossed his arms as he looked at the young man. 
        "Well, I told you about the situation at home.  About how mom and dad were arguing the other night?"  Sam nodded even though he hadn’t heard it before.  "They …" He hesitated not knowing for sure if he wanted to tell.  "They decided last night to get a divorce." 
       Sam’s eyes softened at the news and he laid his hand on Darryl’s shoulder.  "I’m sorry, Darryl."  Sam knew that he never had this problem with his parents, but he had empathy for Darryl.  Hearing that your parents couldn’t live with each other, or that they didn’t love each other anymore, just about destroyed the children in the household.   He didn’t know what to really say to him. 
       Darryl’s head bowed and he rubbed the back of his neck hard with both hands, massaging hard against the muscles, and he began to rock back and forth lightly.  Sam saw a tear drop away from his face.   "I hate them!!" 
       "Darryl," Sam began knowing it wasn’t true but was startled at the force that he used. 
       Darryl looked back up at Sam with a menacing stare.  "I do.  They don’t give a damn about me!  Why should I even respect them after this?!" 
       Sam reached out to touch Darryl, but Darryl moved away from him.  He roughly wiped at his tears and picked up his books.  "I’m already late.  I better get to class."   He then left the room without letting Sam get a word in edgewise. 
       Sam heard the familiar swoosh again behind him and he sat back against the desk looking in the direction that Darryl had gone.  "Al, there goes one angry little boy." 
       "Huh? What?  Oh,"  Al said as he stepped out of the doorway only for it to shut behind him.  "Yeah, he is or was," Al said as he read the handlink.   That caught Sam’s attention. 
       "What happens to him, Al?" 
       "Darryl Jackson gets involved with drugs. It happens within the next couple of days. The fights only get worse at home and to cope he runs to drugs to save him.  He overdoses on November 6, 1998."  Al pocketed the handlink and looked at Sam sadly.   "According to the local newspapers here, Sam, his parents felt responsible for his death, and end up making themselves miserable over it for the rest of their lives." 

 PART TWO

 
       March 4, 2000
       Stallions Gate, New Mexico 
     

Dr. Verbena Beeks stood in the observatory booth that overlooked the Waiting Room and watched their newest visitor with interest.  In the past hour that Adelaine Boyd had been there, she had slept.  This in of itself was a new one for Bena to observe.  She was used to the individual to pace, or cry or give some kind of passionate plea to go home.  This one was just the opposite. 
      At the moment, though, Adelaine was laying on the bed, eyes open looking into the vast blue dome above her softly singing a song. 

    "How very special are we for just a moment to be, 
     Part of life’s eternal rhyme.  How very special are we 
     To have on our family tree: Mother Earth and Father Time. 
     He turns the seasons around and so she changes her gown 
     But they always look in their prime. 
     They go on dancing their dance, an everlasting romance, 
     Mother Earth and Father Time. 
     The summer larks return to sing; oh what a gift they give. 
     Then autumn days grow short and cold; oh what a joy to live. 
     How very special are we for just a moment to be, 
     Part of life’s eternal rhyme.  How very special are we 
     To have on our family tree: Mother Earth and Father Time." 
        

Even while she was singing, Verbena came down from the observatory deck bringing the Coke that Adelaine had requested.  "Adelaine?"  Bena asked as she got close enough.  "What song is that?" 
       "Ahmmm," she began then rubbed her face trying to remember. "Ahmmm… wish that I could remember.  I want to say that it’s from a children’s story," Adelaine said positively.  "Yes, it’s from a story, but I can’t remember which one at the moment.  Perhaps it will come to me." 
        "Perhaps," Bena said as she handed the Coke to her.  "Here you go." 
        "Thanks."   Adelaine turned onto her side to open the Coke and stopped before drinking from the can.  "I knew that it would come to this eventually." 
        Bena looked at her closely.  "What do you mean?" 
       "I told my students that they were driving me nuts.  I guess it had to happen someday.   I just thought that I would be… ahm..." she glanced down at the reflection on the metal bed side table, "a woman."  She sighed.  "At least I’m a handsome man." 
        Verbena laughed at her words. "You’re not crazy, Adelaine." 
        Adelaine took a drink of her soda and glanced up at Verbena.   "Are you sure, Doctor? Are healthy young women supposed to see themselves as men?" 
        Verbena couldn’t help but laugh.  "I’m positive.  This is only temporary.   You’ll be seeing your own reflection real soon.  I promise."   The sound of a door opening made Verbena look up to see Al standing just inside the doorway. 
        "Ahm, who is the cute guy in the banana suit?"  Adelaine couldn’t help but ask.   She grinned wide only for it to start her giggling at her own comment.  She sat up on the bed and crossed her legs Indian style.  She rubbed her face with both hands then turned to look at him once more now in control of herself. 
        Verbena couldn’t help herself.  She chuckled at the question and began to walk over to Al.  "Yes, Admiral?" 
        "Having a nice girl talk?"  Al asked looking from Verbena to Adelaine. 
        "Come here, Al.  I want you to meet Adelaine." 
        As they approached Adelaine, she had already begun to sing another tune. She was singing as she looked down at Sam’s reflection in the table. 

   "I’m Henry the Eighth I am, 
    Henry the Eighth I am, I am. 
    I got married to the widow next door, 
    She’s been married seven times before. 
    And everyone was a Henry, Henry. 
    She never had a Willie or a Sam, no Sam! 
    I’m her eighth old man, and I’m Henry. 
    Henry the Eighth I am, I am.  Henry the Eighth I am! 
     Second verse, same as the first…" 
     

Al grinned at the song she was singing and raised an eyebrow.  Verbena must have seen the look on Al’s face and she excused herself from his presence stifling her laughter as she walked away.  "Adelaine?" 
        "Oh… ahm, yes?"  Adelaine asked as she stopped singing.  "I’m sorry.   I can’t help but sing.  At home when I am nervous, I either pick up my violin or my father’s fiddle and play until I’m calm." 
        "That’s all right," Al said as he nodded at how she was feeling. 
        Adelaine took a moment to look at him.  She knew deep down that the banana remark had been way off.  He was dressed more like an apple salad.   She smiled at him. "So, ahm. . . why am I here?" she asked not really expecting an answer. 
        Al found it hard not to stare at her having just answered that question for Sam.  He glanced down at his feet.  "Verbena hasn’t told you?" he questioned frowning. 
        "Ver… oh, you mean the Doctor?  No, she hasn’t.  I just woke up not to long ago only to find myself in the Twilight Zone."  Her words were spoken as statements of facts, but weren’t spoken out of anger. 
        Al sighed.  "Okay," he began.  "Twilight Zone, no.  This is reality."  Al grinned at the concept of Ziggy being a part of the Twilight Zone.   "You are now a part of an experiment.  Your role is to give information that you remember to me.  My role is to take that information and apply it in a way to help someone in your life." 
        Adelaine nodded as she swallowed her Coke, thinking about what he had just said. "What kind of experiment?  I mean, I don’t mind, because it sounds noble, but I hope that I’m not hurting animals or anything like that." 
        Al shook his head. "Oh, no, not anything like that.  No animals."  He stopped not really wanting to answer her question. 
       "Wait, did I just ask one of those, ‘I’ll have to kill you to answer that question’ question?"  Adelaine asked seeing that he didn’t want to supply the answer. 
        Al chuckled.  "No. It’s a time travel experiment." 
        Adelaine nodded her head only to take another drink of her soda.   She pursed her lips then be-bopped her head accepting the answer.  "Okay."   She set down her Coke and looked at Al.  "What do you want to know?" 
        Al was surprised at her remark.  He didn’t expect for her to just accept the situation she was in.  "Well, Adelaine, what do you remember about Darryl Jackson?" 
        "Darryl Jackson?"  She milled the name around a moment in her mind.  "I have Darryl in fourth period.  He’s a sweet kid.  A bit on the excitable side, though. He is a card.  You have to watch out for him.  He’s unpredictable." 
        Al nodded.  "Unpredictable?" 
        "You never know what he’ll come up with." 

November 4, 1998 
      Big Spring, Texas 
     

Sam had already eaten lunch at the school which consisted of an interesting looking square slice of pizza, salad, and a small cup of pineapple slices.   He went back to Ms. Boyd’s room and opened the door to prepare for his fourth period class.  He felt that he had control over this part now.  He would call roll, then start as he had this morning in second period.  ‘This is simple,’ he thought to himself as a small grin made it’s way to his lips. 
        The bell rang causing the students to suddenly appear in the hallways, all scrambling toward their lockers, their mouths running at ninety miles a minute.  He watched as they made their way into the room, being quite loud and unruly. 
       "Ah, guys sit down and be quiet, please," Sam said to those who were in the room.   They looked at him and did get quieter, but didn’t sit down immediately. Students continued to mill into the room, only a few going directly to their seat to pull out the assignment written on the board.  The rest were up and talking loudly. 
        The tardy bell rang and Sam closed the door and turned his attention to the group of kids who were out of their seats and being loud.  "Please sit down."  He began to walk toward the desk, only to see that his instructions weren’t followed.  He diverted his direction back toward the group.  "I said, sit down," he said in a more audible tone. The group dispersed and went to their seats, but now they were talking loudly across the room, and to add to the noise, there was one gentleman in the room who kept saying, "Be quiet." 
        "Listen!" he said loudly getting everyone’s attention.  "I need you to be quiet so that I can call roll.  While I am doing that, please get your persuasive paper out."  A small groan became evident from several students in the room. 
        Sam called roll even though there were some students who continued to be rude and disruptive.   He saw that Darryl was in this class and was glad that perhaps he could get a chance to talk to him again about his parents. 
        Sam had just finished taking roll when a young man began turned toward him.  "Ms. Boyd?" 
        "Yes?" Sam answered only to look at the blonde haired young man. 
        "I don’t like how my persuasive paper came out.  Can I just write a persuasive paper persuading you that I know how to write a persuasive paper and then you can just give me an A for it?" 
        "Tyler, that’s a good one," the brunette beside him said as she smiled at him. 
        Sam looked at him and sighed. "No, Tyler.  You earn your grades.  I don’t give them to you,"  Sam said and turned his attention back to the class.  He gave them the same assignment that the other classes had and watched as they paired up together. 
        Tyler and Darryl paired up together for their editing and both of them were sitting there with nothing out, just talking.  Sam approached them. "Where are your papers, gentlemen?" 
        Tyler looked at Sam with the most innocent look. "Would you believe that I persuaded my dog to eat it?" 
       "That was my dog you moron.  Your dog ran away remember? And, he ate both of our papers."   Darryl grinned up at Sam. 
        Sam wasn’t amused.  "Get your papers out and start editing them.  Now."   Sam watched as they looked at each other, then proceeded to pull out the papers from their binders, and giving them to the other. 
        As Sam was about to walk away from them, Darryl asked, "Persuasive.  Doesn’t that mean that it’s a written argument?" 
        "Darryl,"  Sam said as he turned back to him only to see the smile.  He shook his head about to walk away from them again only to hear Tyler ask, "Ms. Boyd, does spelling count?" 
        He could almost see the high five that they were giving each other. He continued to walk away only to say, "Yes, Tyler, it does." 
         Sam continued to meander around the room, getting this class back on task was a chore.  He didn’t know what it was, but getting this class to work on editing was like pulling a tooth that didn’t need to be pulled.   Sam looked up as someone began a countdown. 
       "Five, four, three, two, one."  As soon as one came out of his mouth, the bell rang.   He put his hands up in the air as if he had scored a football touchdown.   "Yes, the master." 
       "Well, master, you have earned a chance to stay after class,"  Sam said automatically.   "The rest of you may go."  Sam went up to the gentleman and talked to him about his actions in class then dismissed him.  

     By the time the last bell of the day rang, Sam was exhausted.   He had been wrong about how easy it was to be a teacher.  He didn’t have a clue how much patience that they had to have to get through the day.  He sat down at Ms. Boyd’s desk and laid his head down on his hands.  He heard the swoosh of the door and was glad that Al had decided to show up again. 
        "You look like you’ve been put out to dry,"  Al commented as he stepped out of the Imaging Chamber door. 
        "God, Al, how does she do it?  I’m totally exhausted,"  Sam said as he lifted his head to see his friend. 
        "Education is an acquired field," he said simply. 
        "No joke."  Sam leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms above his head.   He placed his hands behind his head and looked at Al.  "Where have you been?" 
        "Talking with Adelaine.  She’s quite a gal." Al chuckled.  "She has a good sense of humor.  She’s very easy going, accepting of the environment around her.   She’s one of the few that we have had that don’t freak out on us." 
       Al looked at Sam wonderingly. "Have you talked to Darryl anymore?" 
        "No.  I didn’t have a chance to talk to him while he was in class other than to redirect him back to his work.  I don’t understand it, Al.  This morning, he was terribly upset and in class this afternoon, he was joking around.  I know what he’s doing, but it isn’t going to help." 
        "Yeah," Al said supportively.  "But you have to talk to him about not doing those drugs Sam.  It tortures his parents, and kills him!" 
        Sam nodded.  "All right."  He grabbed Adelaine’s purse then stood up.   "So, where do I live?"  Al gave the directions to Adelaine’s house after walking Sam to her car. 
       "I’ll be back in a little bit."  Al excused himself. 
        As Sam opened the car door, he heard Adelaine’s name called out.  He turned to see the same gentlemen who stood in the doorway that morning.  "Yes?" he asked still not knowing the man’s name. 
        "Are you going tonight?" 
        "Where?"  Sam asked not knowing what he was talking about. 
        "To Partners.  Come on, Addy." 
        "Not tonight. I’m very tired,"  Sam said feeling every bit tired. 
        "That’s what you keep telling me," he said as he leaned against the car.  "Come on, please?" 
        Since Sam didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, he decided that he wasn’t going to get into something that Adelaine obviously didn’t want in.  "Not tonight.  Maybe another night, okay?"  Sam opened the car door and got inside. 
        "Addy, you know you want to.  And I’ll get you one of these days."  The guy was grinning good naturedly at Sam.  He winked at Sam then walked away. 
        "Oh boy,"  Sam said as he started the engine.  Just what he needed on this leap was some man hitting on him. 
        He finally made it to Adelaine’s house only to come in and fall on her couch.  He was about to just lay there and stay there for the rest of the evening when he spied the instruments.  "Wow." 
       Sam finally sat up and looked around the room.  In one corner of the room, sitting at an angle was a white baby grand piano,  next to it on two stands were two other instruments.   He stood and went to them.  He opened his mouth in awe.  It was one of the most perfect, well-made Violins in the world – a Stradivarius.  He picked it up very gently and looked at it, his hand gently roaming over it.  He turned the instrument around and placed his chin on the rest, and picked up the bow where it laid.   Letting out a breath of air, he slowly began to play a few notes that filled the apartment with a full lovely sound.  Not wanting to ruin the Stradivarius, Sam put the bow and the violin back in it’s place only to see the small dedication on the stand.  It read:  "To my loving grand-daughter.  May this bring you the music you enjoy."  He smiled at the dedication and placed the violin back. 
          Next to the Stradivarius was another Violin.  It looked to be more used and played upon.  He picked it up to see if there happened to be another dedication and smiled when he saw that there was one.   "To Addy, from Mom and Dad with Love." 
       Sam put the violin up to his chin and began to play it.  The tune, he could almost recall, not knowing how his fingers knew the chords to play them, but he was grateful that he could hear the music fill the room.  It didn’t have the quality that the Stradivarius had, but it was still a lovely sound.  He sat down on the couch and continued to play. 
       After what seemed to be a short time of playing, Sam looked down at his watch and found that he had spend the last hour playing the violin.  He could almost tell from the slight ache that was beginning in his fingers and in his neck.  He placed the violin back on its stand and turned around to head toward the bathroom.  He planned on taking a long shower and then taking himself to bed.  He didn’t care what time it was, but he was ready for bed. 
 

PART THREE 
       

November 5, 1998 
    

The next morning, Sam awoke at the sound of the alarm clock playing country music in his ear.  He was about to turn off the annoying thing when the announcer said, "Now, don’t turn it off your radio until you’ve heard this oldie but goodie, by Flatt and Scruggs, called Foggy Mountain Breakdown." 
       The music that began to play was that of an older country music, a banjo and a fiddle being played together.  Although country music had its little melodies, he found himself liking it.  He left it on. 
       He quickly found a pants outfit that he could wear to school, or rather he hoped that he could wear to school.  He dressed and went into the bathroom to finish getting dressed by fixing his hosts long blonde hair and put on her makeup.  He sighed.  This was the part that he just didn’t like at all.  She had her hair up yesterday, so he pulled her hair up into a ponytail and curled the bangs.  Once done, he looked at the makeup and put on as little as possible.   Shaking his head, he headed out of the bathroom and went to get his shoes on.  Upon walking into the bedroom again, he found Al in the room swaying back and forth singing with the song.  Al was singing. 

   "Well that foreman he’s a brigadee dog, my boss he’s a fool. 
    Got a brand new flat top hair cut, lord, he thinks he’s cool. 
    One of these days I’m gonna blow my top 
    And that sucker he’s gonna pay. 
    Lord I can’t wait to see their faces when I get the nerve to say: 
    Take this job and shove it. I ain’t working here no more!" 
    

"Oh, hi Sam.  I haven’t heard this song in such a long time.  I’ve wanted to tell that to a couple of my previous bosses." Al chuckled. 
       Sam smiled at Al and shook his head.  "You have huh?  To me?" he asked as the song ended. 
       "Nah.   Never you, Sam.  You’re my buddy.  I couldn’t say something like that to you… Weitzman, maybe, but never you."  Al had that mischievous grin that he had when he thought of it.  "But, I just came by to tell you that you need to get to the school as soon as you can.  There may be a way to stop Darryl today." 
       Sam perked up. "What?"  He hurriedly put on his boots and looked at Al once again.   "What are you talking about?  Does he get the drugs today?" 
       "Ziggy doesn’t know for sure, but according to the kids at the school in post interviews that, yes, he bought it at the school, but they didn’t know exactly when." Al meandered over toward the radio to hear the next song which was another oldie; The Battle of New Orleans.  "God, Sam, what station is this?  These are really good songs."  He began to say the words to the song as it played: 

       "We fired our guns and the British kept a coming, there wasn’t as many 
       As there was awhile ago, 
       We fired once more and they began to running 
       On down to Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico!" 

       "Al, we don’t have time for you to be doing Karaoke,"  Sam said as he pushed back down his pants leg and stood.  "Where is he right now?" 
       "Who?" Al asked as El Paso came on the radio. 
       Sam went to the radio and turned it off.  "Al?" 
       "Sam, that was Marty Robbins!" Al said as he pointed to the radio. He dropped his hands and sighed.  "All right.  Darryl is at the school already." 
       "Thank you."  Sam got Adelaine’s purse and headed out the door.  Al followed him whistling the tune of El Paso. 

    Once at the school, Sam hopped out of his car.  He looked at his watch.  He had at least ten minutes before he had to be at the door of his classroom.   He walked around the building the way that Al indicated to find Darryl talking to another student.   They were very quiet and Sam knew that something was about to happen.  He casually began to walk around the corner and was spotted by them.  "Good morning, Darryl." 
        Darryl was completely caught off guard.  "Ms. Boyd!  What are you doing here?" he asked, trying not to look surprised. 
        "I teach here, remember?"  Sam said, as he looked the other young man up and down.   "And you are?" 
        "Daniel, ma’am."  He smiled nervously at Sam.  "I’ve got to go, Darryl.  I’ll talk to you later, man." 
        "All right,"  Darryl said as the other young man walked away.  He nervously looked at Sam and ran his hand through his hair.  "Did you need me for something, Ms. Boyd?" 
        Sam looked at Darryl and cocked his head.  "Darryl, are you okay?  You don’t look like you had any sleep last night."  Darryl’s eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes showed the lack of sleep. 
        "I didn’t," he responded.  "Mom and Dad were up all night fighting.   Mom wants to..." he stopped and looked up at Sam.  "Why do you even care?" he asked angrily. 
       "Because you’re my student.  And I worry about the choices my students make.  You are so very bright, Darryl.  I would hate for you to make a wrong decision that could cost you your life."  Sam tried to hint to the fact that he knew what he was contemplating, thinking that if he knew, he wouldn’t try to do it. 
        Darryl switched his books from his left to his right hand.  "Well, Ms. Boyd, that’s my decision to make, isn’t it?"  Hotly, he walked away from Sam. 
        "That didn’t go over well," Al commented. 
        "What am I supposed to do, Al?  Tell him that he’s gonna die if he tries this stuff?   At this age, they think that they are invincible." Sam threw his hands up in the air. 
        Al pulled out the hand link to see if the outcome had changed. "It’s still the same Sam.  He dies November sixth." 
         Sam sighed.  "I just don’t know what to do, Al.  I don’t.  Does Adelaine have any suggestions?"  Sam had already started walking toward the school, not realizing that someone was following behind him. 
        "We haven’t asked her, Sam." 
        "Why don’t you go try her," Sam said thoughtfully.  He had an idea of what he could do.  The opportunity just had to present itself for it to happen. 
        "All right, Sam."  Al opened the door of the Imaging Chamber and waved a goodbye. 
        Sam watched as Al left only to look down at his watch.  He only had a few minutes to get to his class.  He hurried toward the door only to see Tyler coming up behind him. 
        "Morning, Ms. Boyd."  He grinned mischievously 
        "Good morning, Tyler," Sam responded looking at Tyler oddly. 
        "Ya know, Ms. Boyd, I think that maybe you need a vacation," he said thoughtfully as he opened the door of the building. 
        "Oh really?" Sam questioned as he silently agreed with him.  He did need a vacation from leaping. 
        "Really.   Teachers that talk to themselves need to have some time away to relax and get centered.  I mean, giving us so much homework that you have to grade.   It really is too stressful for you.  Better yet, you could just stop testing us all together."  He tried to keep a straight face through his little speech only to begin grinning at the end, knowing that he had said too much. 
       Sam hung his head caught and shook it as he hid his laughter.  "Go to class, Tyler," he said as he looked up at him with a smile.  "Teachers that talk to themselves never know when they’ll do something unexpected… like test her students today." 
       "Ooh, man,"  Tyler said as he walked away. 

 PART FOUR 

       March 5, 2000 
        Stallions Gate, New Mexico 
    

The Waiting Room door slid open and Al walked into the room.  In the middle of the floor Adelaine laying on her stomach, her legs swaying in the air, as she hummed a tune. Al smiled at the sight and went to her sitting on the floor beside her. "What song is it this time?" 
       "Oh... you would ask me the title, wouldn't you," Adelaine said as she twisted her mouth into a thinking mode.  "Ahm, lets see, it goes..." Adelaine had to re-hum it again to try to get to the words that she sort of remembered to the song. 
        Al smiled again. "Yeah, I think I know that one. Not one of my favorites, though." He shrugged. "Sorry." 
        Adelaine shrugged.  "Oh well.  Can't please everyone.  Learned that in teaching, don't ya know.  So... ahm, what do you need me for, sir?  Do I need to supply more information for my role here?" 
        Al laughed gently at her words. 
        "Well, first, Adelaine, you can stop calling me 'sir'. 
        "Addy," she supplied. 
        "Only my boys call me that, Addy." He corrected.  He took a breath.  "Actually …" 
        "How many?" She asked cutting him off. 
       "How many what?" Al frowned, confused. 
       "How many sons do you have?  Just wondering if I'm going to be getting them in class." 
        Al chuckled at her question. "I don't have any sons. The boys..." 
       "But you just said..." 
       "Yeah. I call them my boys. They're really Ensigns, Lieutenants, Captains, Corporals, et cetera, et cetera." 
       "Oh. OK, call me the dumb blonde now," she said pointed to her head.  "Sorry.   Teacher mode was still on." 
       Al laughed again. "Well, you never know. Some day you just might get someone from my lineage in your class. But that's not what I want to talk about, Addy." He took a breath. "I'm hoping maybe you could tell me what you know about Darryl." 
       "I already told you about Darryl.  He's a card.  You never know what he'll pull.   I'm worried about him though." Adelaine sat up and crossed her legs.   "I'm scared that he might do something to himself to just get attention." 
       "Why would he do that?" Al asked. He already knew the why but he was hoping that Adelaine might give some new insight to the problem. 
       Adelaine thought for a moment before answering.  "He... if I can remember here... he acts out for my attention.  Actually, I think that he might have a crush on me.  I'm not sure, though." 
       Al's eyes widened at that. 
       "It might be that he would do anything just to get my attention.  He's sort of done that all year. Little things, like asking a stupid question like, 'Do you believe in the Great Pumpkin?' in the middle of English when we are going over verbs.   Little things just to make me look at him." 
       "I don't know about that.  Well, on the other hand, my daughter used to...." He trailed off, forcing himself to get back on track only for Adelaine to press him to continue. 
       "What?   What did she do?  You can't start something and not finish it.  Come on... ahm... what did you say your name was, I've forgotten." 
       "Al," he answered briefly. 
       "Come on, Al." 
       He inhaled, then sighed. "She used to play Navy SEAL." 
       It was Adelaine's turn to be awed.  "Wow."  She leaned forward a little to stretch her muscles.  "Tell me, Al, is Darryl in trouble?  He's one of my favorite kids." 
       Al hesitated a moment. "He could be, yeah. We're trying to figure out how to keep him out of trouble, though." 
       Adelaine fingered her lips, pulling at them a little.  "I don't like this." Her eyes wandered, not looking at Al.  "I need to know.  What kind of trouble are we talking about, Al?  Tell me, please." 
       Al thought for a moment on how to best answer the question. "His parents are getting a divorce, and it looks like he's going to do something that will definitely get their attention, but in a bad way for him." He took a breath. "He's thinking about trying drugs." 
       Adelaine was already on the verge of tears.  "I know his parents well."  She tried to hide her emotions and got up, walking away from Al.  She moved to the bed and stood there only for a moment.   Suddenly, she slammed her hand on the bed and cursed loudly.  "Dammit!"  Then with a balled fist, hit the headrest twice more. 
       Al stood slowly but let her have her space. He jumped involuntarily at her actions. Then slowly, he walked towards her. 
       She shook her stinging hand and began chanting, "I need to be there," over and over again. 
       Al touched her shoulder gently. "Addy," he said quietly. When it didn't result in her looking at him, he said much more firmly, "Adelaine." 
       "What, Dad?!"  she said hotly turning on him. 
       Al took a step back at her actions. "Adelaine, I'm not your father," he said gently. 
       "Only my father calls me Adelaine," she said trying to get a hold of herself.  She was shaking from the adrenaline in her system. 
       "Al, I need to be there.  Can you make that possible?  Please?" 
       Al sighed before sadly shaking his head. "I'm sorry. But I promise that Sam and I will do whatever we can to help Darryl. But we need your help for that. We need to know as much as you know about him and his family." 
       "Al..."  Adelaine began as she reached out for something to hold on to.  Her vision blurred and she had a hard time focusing on anything in the room.  Suddenly, the room grew dark. 
       Al took a quick step towards her, seeing her reaction. He quickly grabbed her and eased her to the floor. "Beeks!" he called out. "In here! Now!" 
       Verbena came running into the room from the Observatory deck before Al even finished the request.   "What happened?  I only saw her pass out.  What did you tell her?" 
       Al looked at her with confusion. "We were talking about Darryl and how his parents are divorcing and then she told me she HAD to be there before this happened." 
       "You didn't tell her anything about Darryl taking the drugs and dying?"  she asked, concerned, as she took Addy's pulse. 
       "I mentioned that he might start taking drugs but that was all. Didn't say a word about what would happen to him if he went down that road." He looked at Addy with concern. 
       "Al, she's a teacher.  She knows what happens.  You overloaded her sensors with information, and she has no way to deal with it in her own way.  So, to cope, she fainted."  Bena shook her head.  "I've told you this before, Al.   You can't keep doing this to the Visitors." 
       "Well, it was either tell her or keep her completely in the dark and lose her trust. Besides, she demanded to know." Al looked at 'Bena with raised eyebrows. "What would you have done?" 
       'Bena sighed.   "Never mind, Al." 
       "Your answer to everything I do," Al muttered under his breath. 
       Bena rolled her eyes.  "Come on, let's get her up on the bed." She got a hold of Adelaine's feet as Al took her under the arms. 
       Al helped the psychiatrist in her actions, making sure that Adelaine's head rested gently on the raised headrest. "Is she okay?" Al asked with concern. 
       "Yes.   She'll wake in a little bit."  'Bena said as she looked at her patient.   "Really Al," she said as she started away from them. 
       "What?" Al demanded, following her out into the hall. "Listen, Beeks. I've know quite a few teachers in my time..." 
       "I bet you have, Al," she quirked back at him. 
        He glared at her in response. "My daughters' teachers, Dr. Beeks. And none of them ever passed out when they heard something bad was going to happen to their favorite students. There's more here than meets the eye." 
       Verbena turned around to face Al as she crossed her arms.  "What do you think that is?"  Verbena asked him softly trying not to rile him anymore.  Every time she did, she knew that it irritated him more if she egged him on. 
       "If I knew that, I'd be running to the Imaging Chamber right now to tell Sam so he could leap," Al told her. "I don't know! But something is going on." 
       "Well, until further notice, the Waiting Room is off limits." 
       "Beeks!" He followed her with determination. "How the hell are we going to find out what's going on if you lock me out of the Waiting Room?! I need Adelaine on this!" 
       She said matter-of-factly and turned to walk away.  "Ziggy, seal the door on my authorization." 
       Ziggy replied, "Yes, Doctor." 
       "Delay that order, Ziggy!" Al shouted angrily. 
       "Yes, Admiral." 
       Al turned to Verbena. "'Bena..." 
       "Al. I know that you want answers.  But can you get answers from a woman who just passed out, who is overly compensating for the emotions that are going through her system?   No." She answered for him. 
       "Neither can you get answers from a woman who is off limits because of an overly-protective psychiatrist." 
       "Watch it, Al.  I do my job the best that I can, and if you don't watch your step, I'll be outta here as fast as you can snap your head around.  I love Sam but, I promise you that if you push me, I'll leave." 
      Al was about to make a retort but her threat shut him up. 
       "Ziggy, seal the door." 
       "Yes, Dr. Beeks." 
       He exhaled loudly. "Damn," he muttered, marching towards the Control Room door. 
       "Al," she called to him. 
       He turned around at her call. "What?" he asked, obviously not happy. 
       "I'll get any information that you need from Addy for you.  All you had to do was ask me to do it.  OK?" she said, trying to make an apology. 
       He looked at her with firm eyes. "'Bena..." He exhaled again. "Forget it." 
       Bena was about to leave, but when he turned back, she stopped.  "What is that, Al?" she asked taking a few steps toward him. 
       "Wait a sec. Actually, there is something you can tell me." 
       "Did you ever have any kind of serious problems with your kids when they were growing up?" 
       "Tons." 
       "I mean serious problems. Life-threatening problems." 
       "Just the riots, Al.  But, we had to go through the discussions of drugs and alcohol just like you did with the girls.  They were educated on it.  But you know, they had the final decision,"  Verbena said pointedly. 
       "Did you ever faint over the riots?" Al asked with a slight raised eyebrow. 
       "No.   But ..."
       "My point exactly," Al said, interrupting her. "Don't you think it's a little strange for a teacher to be that concerned about a student when a parent isn't concerned enough to warrant fainting?" 
       Bena straightened, squared her shoulders.  "I'll talk to her Al."  She turned away from him and walked up the stairs going to the Observation Deck. 
       "Beeks," Al called to her gently. 
       She turned as she got to the stairs and looked at him. 
       Al gave her a little smile. "Go easy on her." He was obviously trying to make a joke of it, imitating Verbena's words to him. 
       Verbena shook her head and tried to suppress a grin.  "Admiral, you don't know when to stop, do you?" 
       "Sure, I do... but then again, I think Beth thinks just like you." He started for the door again. "I'll be in my office. Let me know when I have your permission to see Adelaine again." 
       "Yes sir." 
    

PART FIVE

November 5, 1998 
       Big Spring,  Texas 
    

The last bell of the day rang and Sam again dismissed another class.  He again was tired and felt as if nothing had gone right today.  He felt as if no one had listened to him, everyone seemed to be off in his or her own little world.  He rubbed his neck gingerly with both hands trying to relieve the stress that had been building up there during the day. 
        He stretched his arms up over his head and looked toward the door to find the same gentlemen who had questioned him yesterday.  "You’re going tonight," he said matter-of-factly. 
        Sam looked at him oddly, raising one eyebrow as he looked at him. "I am?" he asked. 
        "Yep, you are.  I’m taking you, tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer."   With that he walked away from the door only to appear again.  "I’ll be by to pick you up at 7:00.   Dress casual."  He then left. 
        Sam was floored.  He wasn’t sure how Adelaine would act in this situation, but he knew that he didn’t like it one bit.  "We’ll see," he said to himself. 
        The Imaging Chamber door popped up, startling Sam, since it was right beside him.  Al stepped out of the doorway and licked his lips as he looked at the hand link.  "Well, buddy, what’s up?" 
        "Did you talk to Adelaine?"  Sam asked hopefully. 
        "Yep, and then Dr. Beeks had Ziggy seal the Waiting Room." 
        "What?" Sam asked.  "What happened?" 
        Al waved at the questions.  "Don’t worry, Sam.  Bena is getting information from her for us.  Right now, we are sort of in limbo.  Ziggy does say that you need to be outside of the school looking for Darryl.  There is a..."  he looked at the hand link and read the information. "Seventy-nine percent chance that it happens now." 
        Sam quickly locked the room and headed outside.  He began walking about; searching for Darryl where he thought a transaction like this would commence.  "Al, help me, please." 
        Al pointed to a corridor that went out to the gymnasium.  "Try there." 
       Sam looked around the corner and saw Darryl with the same young man that he had been with this morning.  Sam watched, saddened, as cash and a plastic bag of green stuff exchanged hands.  Darryl had just purchased marijuana. Sam ducked his head back around the corner and looked at Al.  "So, it’s now or never, huh?" 
        "Yep," Al said as he physically stepped out to look at the situation.  "Oh, Sam, he’s coming.  Hold on.  Shhhh." 
        As Darryl came around the corner, Sam quickly shot his arm out to catch Darryl’s shirt, stopping him at the same time.  "So, this is this wise decision that you were speaking of this morning?"  Sam said as he grabbed the baggie away from him.  "I thought that you had better sense than this, Darryl." 
        "Hey!"  Darryl protested as the dope was taken from him.  "Ms. Boyd, give it back.  I bought it.  It’s mine to use."  He grabbed at the bag only for Sam to hold it high in the air. 
        "Yeah, yours to use to kill yourself with.  Don’t you understand that this stuff has more chemicals in it than our cars?"  Sam asked.  "This kills your brain cells, Darryl.  Why would you want to do this?"  Sam questioned.   "I want to know." 
         A blurp from the hand link caused Al to look at it.  "Wha?" he asked and then looked up at the ceiling.  His eyes wandered for a moment as he listened. 
       "Why do you give a damn about me, anyway?  My parents sure as hell don’t.  If they did, they wouldn’t be getting a divorce.  Give me my stuff and let me go."   Darryl struggled to break his teacher's hold on him, but Sam’s strength won out. 
        "Just what are you saying, Verbena?"  Al asked into the air again as he looked at Darryl, realizing now what was going on. 
        "Let me go, you crazy bitch!"  Darryl said angrily. 
        Sam finally had enough.  He let go of Darryl’s shirt and let him fall to the ground.   Sam looked at the small bag of marijuana in his hand and then looked back at Darryl only to drop it in his hand.  "Here," Sam said as he glared at him. 
        "Sam!"  Al yelled as he watched the events unfold, distracting him from what Verbena was saying.  "What are you doing!?" 
        "Go ahead,"  Sam finally said in a flat tone.  "Actually, if you want it that badly," he pulled out a lighter that he had grabbed from Addy’s desk and knelt down beside him.  "Then, let’s do it together." 
        "Wha… what?"   Darryl asked, looking Sam up and down, not really understanding what he was implying. 
        "Get it out of the bag.  Lets light it up and have at it.  You want to do this that badly… why wait?"  Sam said leaning back on his heels. 
        "Sam!"  Al said frustrated.  "Are you nuts!  If that stuff is laced, you’ll die too!" 
        "I know,"  Sam said off-handedly.  "I know it sounds crazy, but I’m up for it.  Are you up for it, Darryl?  Are you ready to put your life, our lives, on the line for this… this crap?" 
        "Verbena, quit with the explanation.  What the hell are you getting at?" Al said flustered.  He listened only for a moment.  "Oh!" he said finally.  "Okay, why didn’t you tell me that in the first place."  He quickly went to Sam and knelt down beside Sam.  "Sam, just read this, k?"  Al put the hand link in front of Sam’s face so he could read the information. 
       "What do you mean?"  Darryl asked.  "Nothing bad will happen if we do this."   He pulled out one of the bongs from the bag and held it between his fingers, bringing up the lighter. 
        Sam read the information and quickly grabbed the lighter from him.  "How can you be so sure?  How can you be so sure of anything after last night? After what you heard?" 
        Darryl’s eyes danced across Sam’s features and he quickly looked around to try to find a way out of the situation he was in.  He didn’t want to talk about this now.   "What I heard?"  he questioned. 
        "Yea, Darryl. What you heard Melanie, your mom, tell your dad, Frank about you."  Sam looked at Darryl after reading all the information, and knew exactly what needed to be said. 
        "No!" Darryl said shaking his head as he brought his hands up as if to ward off the conversation. "I don’t want to talk about what I heard." 
        "You heard Melanie tell Frank that they shouldn’t have adopted you, didn’t you?"   Sam’s voice softened as he hit on the hard truth that Darryl had learned through angry words last night. 
         Darryl’s hand came up as he tried to slap Sam across the face, but Sam easily caught it and held it firm.  "Shut up!" the boy yelled as his eyes filled with tears.  "Why?"   He finally asked as they stared at each other for a long moment.  "Why do you care?  Why are you trying to help a poor miserable excuse of a human like me?" 
        Sam’s eyes began to sting as tears gathered, threatening to spill. He said softly, "Because a long time ago, I made a mistake.  I made a mistake of trying to give a better life to a little baby boy." 
        "Huh?"   Darryl asked not understanding. 
        "When I was seventeen, I got pregnant, Darryl.  I was very immature, and I didn’t want to have a child yet. I gave birth to a little boy, who I gave up for adoption.  You are that little boy, Darryl.  You’re my son.  That’s why I care." Sam let go of Darryl’s hand and sat back to let the information sink in. 
        "You’re my… my mom?"  he asked in awe. 
        Sam nodded.  "Yes." 
        Darryl looked at Sam his chin quivering, speechless.  The paraphernalia slipped from his hands, and he looked pleadingly at his newly found parent, unable to speak. 
        Sam grinned at him and simply opened his arms.  Darryl fell into them, crying softly.   Sam held Darryl for a long time, each simply immersed in the emotion of the other.   "Come on," Sam said finally.  "Let’s take you home."   Darryl nodded, and they walked to the car in silence. 
 

 PART SIX 
      Hours later 
     

Sam took Darryl home and they had talked with Melanie and Frank about everything. The fights were still probably going to happen until the divorce was complete, but Darryl was told that if he ever needed to talk to someone about his feelings, he could go to Adelaine.  Sam was very satisfied with how everything had turned out.  He now had one only question: Why hadn’t he leapt out, yet? 
       He had just pulled up a pair of jeans and buttoned them when Al re-appeared.  He leaned over to get his boots and pull them on.  "So, when am I going to leap, Al?" 
        "I don’t know, Sam.  Ziggy says that you have fulfilled all the obligations that she thought that you were here for.  I don’t understand it either.  Oh, hey, why are you getting all gussied up?" 
        "Because someone is coming to get me to take me somewhere in about five minutes." 
        "That’s very general." 
        "Well, I still don’t know this guy's name," Sam said as he shook his head. 
        "Guy?"  Al grinned. 
        Sam pointed at Al to be quiet as the doorbell rang.  He went to the door and found the gentleman standing there.  Al appeared right next to him.  "Give me just a minute," Sam said. 
        "Sure, Addy.  Don’t forget your daddy’s fiddle." 
        "Dad’s fiddle?"  Sam asked.  "Why do I need that?" 
        "Sam, this guy's name is Neil Anderson,"  Al said as he read the hand link. 
        Neil rolled his eyes, as he went to the fiddle and gingerly placed it in its case.  He took it and walked to the door.  "Come on, Addy, we’re late." 
        "All right, all right."  Sam finished pulling on his boots and was herded out of the apartment. 
        A few minutes later, Sam found himself at a bar called Partners.  He wasn’t sure what was happening until he saw the sign that read 'Karaoke.'   "Oh, no… no…"  He began as he looked at Al. 
        Al chuckled.  "I guess so, Sam.  It’s not your choice. It’s his." Al pointed up at the sky above them. 
        Sam went in the establishment with Neil and heard loud music and even louder singers.  He smiled at Neil.  "Why tonight? Why here?"  Sam asked. 
        "The whole band is here, and so is Danny.  He’s the Devil tonight and you’re just Addy.  We changed the song a little to make it fit, but it’s all right." 
        "Huh?   What song are you talking about?" 
        "Addy, are you okay?  We’re talking about 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia'." 
        Sam’s face went white.  "You want me to play that?"  he asked incredulously.   "I don’t think so." 
       "Oh come on Sam."  Al grinned.  "It’s a good song." 
       "Al, I don’t know it!"  Sam said as he talked through his teeth. 
       Sam heard the voice in the speaker saying, "And now, lets hear it for the new group performing tonight.  We have a little show-down, for ya!"  The announcer stopped for a moment.  "Come on up, you guys!  The Teamers!" 
       Sam was forced up on stage with the fiddle in his hands and he looked out at the crowd that was clapping for his band.  He placed his chin on the brace and brought the bow up to play it.  He looked up at the ceiling and said, "Anytime now."  The electrical hue began to take him right before the clapping ended and the beat started, and he sighed in relief. 

EPILOGUE 
    

There was a feeling of warmth on his face, as if he was looking into the sun on a summer day or was peering into an open oven door.  It was hard to tell until the rest of his senses came around to orient him.  Next he heard the soft lull of a voice, speaking uninterrupted.  When the swirling finally settled and his vision should have been clear, Sam Beckett saw only glittering orange. 
       He blinked, confused, and realized that the orange and heat had combined into a fire.  Drawing back with a sharp intake of breath, he instantly realized that he was a safe distance away when suddenly the voice yelled loudly, "Over there!" followed by a deafening scream that made Sam jump to his feet, his heart in his throat. 
       The screaming went of for a few seconds and dissolved into nervous laughter and a smattering of whimpers.  Frozen and bug-eyed, Sam slowly turned around and saw a sea of faces surrounding him.  Little faces; girl faces;  mostly tittering at Sam's actions as he stood ready to fight or flee. Noticing he was the only one standing, and therefore the center of attention, he grinned sheepishly and slowly sat back down on the log that was acting as a bench. 
       "Well, Kristy," the storyteller noted.  "I see you're a true believer in the Curse of the Dead Camper!" 
       The rest of the crowd giggled nervously, but Sam noticed many were glancing around in the darkness, not quiet disbeliever’s.  There must have been 40 girls there, each around the age of ten, along with a half-dozen women in their 20's scattered about.  Sam noticed a lot of them were wearing tan T-shirts with identical writing, which he couldn't quite read in the smoky darkness. 
       "Well," the speaker continued.   "Let's get our minds off that horrible tale with a song!  Ohhhhh…" 
        

 "Do your ears hang low? 
        Do they wobble to and fro? 
        Can you tie them in a knot? 
        Can you tie them in a bow? 
        Can you throw them over your 
        Shoulder like a continental soldier? 
        Do you EARS HANG LOW?" 

Sam's mouth was opening and closing like a landed fish as he tried to sing along to a song he'd never heard with a very enthusiastic crowd.  He looked down to hide his ignorance, and noticed he was wearing one of the tan shirts.  And printed on it, around the outline of a bear, were the words "Camp Rancho Oso - Girl Scouts."  But that wasn't all; across his protruding, female- enhanced left breast were the additional words "Counselor Kristy."         

"Oh, boy!" he moaned as the crowd started its third round of the deformed ear ditty.   "Not a Girl Scout!"