Chapter Three
December 8, 1999
"So this building burned down?" asks Ben Song.
"Well, not exactly that way," answers Addison Augustine, who is projected into Jimmy La Motta's loft. "But the place was gutted. And in case you're wondering, Jimmy survived; he's still alive in our time."
"He would be what, pushing ninety?"
"Yes. Anyway, according to an investigation by the Oakland Fire Department, the fire actually started in Blue Balls. Gas explosion. Witnesses timed the explosion at 9:15 AM on Friday, December 10th. The fire spread quickly."
"At least Jimmy was okay."
"You need to stop that gas explosion if Jimmy is going to get his life back."
Ben eats another spoonful of General Mills Cocoa Puffs from a ceramic bowl, filling the room with crunch sounds. "Okay, so the fire starts in the kitchen," he says. Jimmy- I'm a bartender. I might not have leaped into the right man for the job. I should have leaped into that cook Sancho, or the manager."
Addison presses buttons on the handlink. "Peter Baker," she says. "Forty-two years old, Navy veteran, divorced with two children in his ex-wife's custody. Still alive in our time; no trouble with the law ever since a DUI conviction in '78.
"There is one more thing. The owner of the laundromat next door, a Chinese immigrant trying to make a new life for himself. He lost his business and committed suicide next February. He was going through so much."
"We can stop that," says Ben, putting the ceramic bowl in the sink. "It might be simple as a reminder to the shift manager to take a look at the gas stove."
"Wait, I can take a look," says Addison. "If I can lock on to the manager while he's down there."
Ben looks at a digital clock on ta Kenmore microwave oven set on a counter next to the stove. "The bar opens at 11 on weekdays. I am guessing a manager will come in an hour earlier, making sure everything's ready."
"You're not working there this morning."
"I checked the schedule. Jimmy's not working today. I work on Thursday afternoon."
"Yes," says Addison. "There's an Oakland Raiders game on Thursday, December 9th.
Ben picks up a paperback novel to pass the time.
And then, around 10:15, he picks up a telephone handset in the kitchenette and dials the telephone number for Blue Balls.
"Blue Balls," says the voice on the other side.
"Hi, this is Jimmy," says Ben.
"Oh, hi, Jimmy," replies Peter Baker. "I'm just preparing to open up for the morning. A lot has to go on today,. The cops want another copy of the security tapes from yesterday's incident."
Addison is projected below, inside the office. She looks at the man, who has light brown hair and a short cropped beard, wearing a polo shirt and shorts. Peter is inside a small office. On the desk is an Apple Macintosh Quadra with an internal hard disk drive and an FDHD Super Drive, and a Silicon Graphics monitor displays System 7. The observer notices a rectangular container next to the Apple keyboard. Looking at it, she recognizes the little plastic things inside as 3.5 inch floppy disks, something she has only occasionally seen while in the Imaging chamber. There is a bulletin board with bulletins pinned to the wall, an d in a corner is video recording equipment.
"I was just wondering," says the leaper. "Have you checked the stove?"
"The stove for what?"
"Well, it's just that it's important to check cooking equipment for potential fire hazards. I read about kitchen fires."
"I inspected it Monday morning. I'll double-check, to humor you." Peter reaches down and pulls out a drawer from a Hon filing cabinet. He pulls out a folder from one of the hanging folders inside, and takers our a piece of paper. The manager gets back to his desk. "Yeah, Jimmy, I checked the oven myself on Monday morning. Nothing unusual."
"Could you check again?"
"Might as well do that before I open up. Listen, Jimmy, you do have the day off, and the morning bartender's already here. There're no extra shifts for you. You can sit in front of the bar, not stand behind it. But we'll definitely need you tomorrow when the Raiders crush those players from Tennessee. Talk to you later."
Peter hangs up the phone. Leaving the office, he walks into the kitchen. Addison follows him there and looks around. It looks like restaurant kitchens she had observed in previous leaps, with the central stainless steel table, the gas stoves, and the large-sized refrigerators and freezers. The manager reaches down and opens the oven doors, shining a flashlight. The observer also does the same.
"Okay, Ian, make sure to record this," she says.
After twenty more seconds, Peter shuts the oven door. A woman in her thirties, with tightly-curled black hair and wearing the referee outfit, enters.
"What's up?" she asks.
"Checking the oven for any fire hazards," replies Peter. "Everything's okay. Old Man Jimmy was worried. Any way, I'd better go back to the office and log this on."
"I'll get the bartop cleaned for opening," replies the woman.
The observer presses buttons on the handlink, and then appears before Ben.
"Peter didn't see anything wrong," says Addison. "he checked the stove. I looked too and nothing seemed off. I could have the others take a look at the Imaging Chamber feed."
"It might have been electrical," replies the leaper. "You can go down there, find out if there's a loose wire or something. Still, this leap would be a lot easier if I leaped into Peter Baker.
"And there;'s one more thing. Someone named Frank called. He seems to be Jimmy's brother."
"Yes, he is," replies the observer. She presses buttons on the handlink. "Frank took Jimmy out of the institution back in '64, that's when Sam first leaped into Jimmy. Here in '99, he still lives with his wife Connie."
"And Sam Beckett met him in the past," says Ben. "I'm not working today. I might as well meet the man."
ooooooo
Ben squeezes the handbrake, causing the 1996 Kawasaki Ex500D3 Ninja motorcycle to dslow down on the asphalt0surfaced residential street. The street is linked with trees and single-family residences.
"That's the house," says Addison, pointing.
Ben pulls up to a driveway where a red Chevrolet Suburban rests. Ben sets down the kickstand of the motorcycle and removes the helmet from his head.
"You definitely have gotten better at riding bikes," says the observer.
"Yeah."
"Jimbo!" someone calls out.
Ben turns his head and looks towards the front door of the home. Standing there is a gray-haired man wearing slacks and a sweater. He appears to be in his early seventies.
"that's Frank," says Addison.
"Hi, Frank," says the leaper.
"Come on in," replies Frank La Motta. "Lunch should be ready in less than ten minutes."
Ben enters the house, and Addison looks around. It looks like a typical end-of-the-second-millenium living room, with leather couches and a coffee table. A Sony color television sits against the wall, and a Sony video cassette recorder rests in a cabinet below it.
"How are you doing?" asks woman in a blouse and skirt. Her hair is aubuirn and gray.
"That's Connie," says the observer.
"Perfect," answers Ben. "Had a nice ride here."
"I'll get some beers from the fridge," says Frank.,
"I can only have one."
Frank gives a cold bottle of Corona extra to the leaper who appears to be his younger brother. "I saw the news about that hostage situation at the bar yesterday."
"Everything happened so fast. I mean, that guy went in with the gun, and then this other guy sitting at the bar decked him with a barstool, and then the cops came in."
"He's a hero," says Connie.
"And how are you doing?"
"Just sitting around, mostly. I went to the golf course yesterday, and Connie and I were at the community center with the other seniors on Sunday. Played cards and shuffleboard.
Addison looks around the La Motta residence, where Jimmy had first lived in his own steps to become independent. The kitchen has the usual stuff- a small dining table, counters, a Kenmore refrigerator, a Kenmore microwave oven, ans a gas stove. The holographic observer walks to explore the bedroom. She briefly looks around the master bedroom, noting the king-sized bed, a 24-inch Toshiba television, and a picture of Frank and Connie during their wedding over forty years before.
Walking to another bedroom, she sees a bed and a wooden dresser. On top of the dresser is a framed picture. It shows Jimmy and Frank, and the caption "Jimmy's 30th- Harvey's Tahoe". Addison looks at another framed picture of Jimmy, wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts. A bib with a number is worn on the shirt. The framed photo is captioned "SF Marathon '79"
Addison hears some laughter. She then walks back to the dining room, where Ben is having lunch with the La Mottas. In front of Ben is a red plate, with a square slice of lasagna with tomato sauce and ground beef and ricotta and mozzarella cheeses.
"I still miss Tommy sometimes," says Frank, sticking a form into a slice of lasagna.
"Tommy?" asks Ben.
"He was the one who opened Blue Balls, Jimbo. He gave you a job there in '84, after you became eligible for retirement from the docks. We were at his funeral. His ashes were scattered into the ocean from Fisherman's Wharf."
Addison presses buttons on the handlink. "Tommy Wint," she says. "He established Blue Balls, died in '97. His daughter Cassie owns the place now in '99."
The leaper swallows another slice of lasagna. He glances and sees a Christmas tree with decorations from tiny figurines to colored balls. "Nice tree," he says.
"You helped decorate it last Saturday," says Frank. "I remember the first time you helped all the way back in Christmas of '64. Of course, I was able to carry the tree. We've had to hire a crew to bring the tree in these past few years."
"Can;t wait until Corey and the kids visit for Christmas," says Connie. "I'd better figure out what to buy."
"Remember when we all had Christmas at Corey's a few years ago, '96 I think it was," says Frank.
"'96?' asks Ben. "The Spice Girls came out in '96."
"You were always more in tune with pop culture than I am. I mean, I never got into that Nintendo stuff."
Ben laughs as he has another piece of lasagna, and Addison smiles as well.
About two hours later, lunch is over. Ben steps out of the front door of the La Motta residence.
"Hard to believe it;'s been thirty-five years," says Frank, standing at the front door. "Thirty-five years since we brought you out to the world. The doctors always believed in you. I believed in you. And you've made a life for yourselfI wish they could know about you know."
"It was great being here, Frank," says the leaper, smiling. "It was like knowing you all over again."
oooooooo
The laundromat is brightly-lit, in comparison with the dark street outside. Inside are vartious coin-operated washing machines; washing machines that accept credit cards and debit cards would not be available for another decade or so. There are three rows of hard plastic benches. Ben sits at one of the benches.
"Hi there, Jimmy," says a male voice. Ben turns his head and sees a man with dark hair and amber-complected skin. He wears a white shirt and black slacks.
"Hi there," says the leaper. "I'm just doing my laundry. The next few days will be busy for me. Everything okay?"
"There's lot going on," replies the laundromat owner, who walks off to the back office.
"He's going to lose everything unless we change things," says Addison.
"Anything new?" Ben whispers, knowing that he does not have a cellular telephone.
"We all looked closely at the screen captures from the Imaging Chamber," answers the observer. "Nothing looks wrong with the stove or its connection to the gas main.
Ben stays silent, with only the noise from the washing machines filling the laundromat's main room. "Maybe the main?"
"Hard to tell. And in any even, you leaped into Jimmy. He wasn't in a position to shut off gas for an entire block."
Ben looks around the laundromat. It is empty, except for another man also washing his clothes, wearing headphones connected to a Sony Discman worn on a pouch attached to his belt.
"Someone could have started it."
"We considered that. The employees have clean records. Still, that leaves ex-employees, patrons, friends and family of the employees and ex-employees. Anyway, I'd better head out."
Ben sees Addison's hologram disappear. He knows this laundromat will be gutted by fire in just a little under forty hours.
Oooooooo
December 9, 1999
Ben Song looks at Jimmy La Motta in the full-length mirror as he fastens the final button on the black-and-white striped referee shirt.
"You look great," says a Addison Augustine, looking in the mirror; she is used to not seeing herself in the mirror when inside the Imaging Chamber.
"Time to get to work," says the leaper. It's gonna be a busy day."
"I won't spoil the game," says the observer, knowing that the Oakland Raiders played against the Tennessee Titans this very day.
Grabbing the keys, Ben heads out to the hallway, and then takes thew slow freigh elevator down to the ground level of the building. He then heads lout to the sidewalks in front. Walking a few feet along the sidewalk, passing a couple, he reaches the front entrance to Blue Balls. Already, many people are sitting at the bar, and all of the tables are occupied, with servers in referee outfits bringingh trays of food from sandwiches to steaks to appetizers. On the televisions are images of a football field, and sports commentators. About a third of the patrons wear Oakland Raiders gear such as sweaters and billed caps.
Ben walks into the back office.
"Old Man Jimmy, " says Peter Baker, sitting at the desk.
"Just here to clock in," replies the leaper-turned-bartender, smiling.
"You know the drill," replies the general manager.
Ben goes to the men's restroom to wash his hands with soap, after waiting a minute for a sink to become available. He then walks over to behind the bar.
"Yo, Old Man Jimmy," calls out a man with his hair worn in dreadlocks, wearing a Raiders sweatshirt; he appears in his early thirties.
"Uh, hi," says Ben. "may I take your order, sir?"
"Sure. Just a Budweiser."
"You know him?" asks another bartender, a woman named Lucy.
"Jimmy's part of the bike club," replies the man. He looks towards the leaper. "Remember that ride to Death Valley, Thanksgiving Weekend '97?"
"How could I forget?" asks Ben, smiling as he hands the man a Budweiser.
"I'm here to see my Raiders win. Maybe they'll make it to the Super Bowl."
"I'd have to ask a friend to look it up."
And so the leaper gets into the groove, pouring beer from taps into chilled pint-glasses, taking bottles of beer from the fridge, or mixing drinks, alcoholic or otherwise. He takes trays of food and delivers it to patrons. He either takes cash and goes to the cash register, making sure to count out change, or run credit cards through the credit card reader- there are no RFID chips in credit cards, nor there would be for almost twenty years from this time.
And then all eyes are on the televisions, including the large projected screen, as players from the Oakland Raiders and the Tennessee Titans appear. Addison watches the game, not having looked up the results.
And the the opening kickoff starts with one of the Titans kicking the ball. One of the raiders catch the ball, and keep running until a tackle near the 20-yard line.
An image briefly appears of Oakland Raiders player Rich Gannon, with season statistics, including a mention of eighteen touchdowns and ten interceptions.
And then the game continues. Ben speaks to a customer to get another order, as do the other servers now that the clients are not laser-focused on the National Football League game.
"There's a certain pleasure in watching old sports games inside the Imaging Chamber," says the observer, projected behind the bar.
Addison walks to the kitchen, where the cooks all prepare the food offered in the menu. She can hear the sizzling sounds, though of course she can not smell the aroma of the meats and oils. Servers continually obtain plates of food, placing them on trays before going out to the bar.
She glances at the gas stove; there does not seem to be anything out of the ordinary.
She then walks out to observe Blue Balls. As the observer takes in the scene, she notices the camaraderie among the servers, hosts, and cooks.
And then the first quarter ends. Neither the Raiders nor the Titans had scored. Almost immediately after ESPN cuts into commercial, servers revisit their tables, while some patrons approach the bar to order more drinks from Ben or Lucy. Some patrons pay attention to the sole, 36-inch television showing a National Basketball Association game between the Memphis Grizzlies and the San Antonio Spurs.
"How are you doing, Ben?" asks Addison.
"Still busy," answers Ben as he hands a middle-aged man a Coors original beer.
"That's the Raiders," says Lucy. "Or the 49ers, or the Athletics, or the Giants."
ooooooo
The timer counts down to zero and the second half, ends, with neither the Raiders nor the Titans getting a score. As if on cue, the servers all go around to speak with their clients at their tables. A few of the patrons pay attention to the half-time show.
And then Ben notices something.
"..and what are you doing sitting with a man?" a young man asks a young woman.
"C'mon," she protests. "He's just a friend."
And then the leaper sees it.
The man smacks the woman in the face. "Don't you talk back to me like that!" he scolds.
