Chapter 28

It was late on the twelfth day.  Al was now reading the book for Sam for the fourth time but it didn’t seem to be doing any good.  Sam just lay there, comatose.  Occasionally he would start moving around or even open his eyes but he was no closer to waking than he’d been the night Thelma had called.  The first time Sam had opened his eyes with Al in the room, Al had been overjoyed but after a closer look, it had felt like he’d been gut punched.  Although Sam’s eyes had been open, there’d been no recognition, no life in them - just a dull blank stare.  It had been unnerving.

The only real improvement they saw over those few days was Sam’s responses to sounds.  Loud noises would cause him to flinch and turn away from them.  If Thelma or Al called out his name, which they did often trying to reach the mind of the man lying in front of them, he’d instinctively turn his head in that direction.  Dr. Williams continued to assure them that all of these were good signs and that they’d just have to be patient at this point.  Al was beginning to hate the word “patient”.

Al had tried to vary the reading and exercises a bit through the days.  He figured that variety might be important.  Over the nearly two weeks he’d spent with his comatose friend, he also told Sam about things from his past.

He’d told him about growing up on the streets, about the orphanage, and about Trudy.  Al told him about Annapolis and going to MIT.  He talked about the upcoming project and how, without Sam, there would be no Project Quantum Leap.  Today, though, he settled down to read the final chapter yet again.  Picking up the book, he found his place.

“To Buck it was boundless delight, this hunting, fishing, and indefinite wandering through strange places. For weeks at a time they would hold on steadily, day after day; and for weeks upon end they would camp, here and there…”[1]

”Daddy?”  The voice was weak but clear.

Al looked up and saw Sam, confused but his eyes were open and this time there was both recognition and life in them.  “Sam?”  Al’s eyes were cautious.  Then as he realized that Sam was truly awake this time and that he hadn’t imagined the voice, he yelled, “Sam!  Oh, thank God!  How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Weak…and tired…and thirsty.  Can I have some water?”

“Let me check with the nurse.  I don’t want you drinking if it could hurt you.”

Sam sighed.  He figured Al’s asking was unavoidable.  When the nurse, Laura Haverty, came into the room, she confirmed he could have the water and it wouldn’t hurt him.  He tried to drink the through the straw as Al held the glass for him but didn’t seem to have the strength necessary to pull the liquid up the short distance to his mouth.  Laura, seeing the difficulty he was having, suggested that instead he suck on ice chips.  She left the room briefly to get some.  She returned with a cup and a spoon and Al slowly started to feed small amounts of the ice into Sam’s mouth.

“How’s that?” Al asked

“Good, thanks,” he mumbled around the ice, not wanting them to slip out.

“Sam, do you know who I am?” Al asked tentatively.  He hadn’t forgotten Dr. Williams warning of possible brain damage and it was starting to play heavily on his mind with the realization that Sam had called him Daddy.

Sam furrowed his brow quizzically and answered, “You’re Al.  Why?”

A broad smile broke out on Al’s face when Sam correctly identified him.  “No reason, Kid.  You want some more ice?”

“Yes, please,” Sam weakly answered.

A moment later, Al heard the sound of the door opening again.  “Al, I picked you up some cannoli.  I hope…”  Thelma Beckett stopped suddenly, dropping the bag on the floor.  She ran to the bed, “Sammy!  You are a sight for sore eyes, there’s no denying that!”  Al moved to the side to allow Thelma Beckett the room to put her arms around her son.

“Mom!  What are you doing here?  I thought you were in Hawaii?” Sam asked weakly returning his mother’s hug.

“I’ve been here for almost three weeks.” Thelma answered releasing Sam from the hug.  “You fall from the sky and you don’t think I’m going to come running?”

“I guess not.  I love you, Mom!”  He stopped for a moment, trying to remember something.  Suddenly it became clear to him.  “I saw Dad!  And Tom.  They told me I had to come back that I couldn’t stay with them.”  Sam had a sense from the looks on his mother’s face and Al’s that they didn’t believe him but he pressed on anyway, “Dad told me to let you know he misses you and you’re still his best girl.”

Up until that last Thelma had figured the memory Sam was telling her had been a dream of his.  “What did you say?”

“He said he missed you.”

“No, the other part.”

“He said you were still his best girl.”

Thelma’s eyes filled with tears as she whispered softly, “John.”

“Mom, what’s wrong?   Don’t cry.  Please.”  Sam was concerned that his words had obviously caused his mother distress.

Thelma gave her son a kiss and a final hug and hurried from the room. 

“Al?  I…”

Seeing that Sam was concerned about his mother, Al gave him a squeeze on his arm.  “I’ll be right back,” Al told Sam before he headed out the door.  He found Thelma just outside of it in tears.

“You go back in there, Admiral.  Sam needs you with him.”

“He needs you as well.  He’s worried about you.”

“I know.  I’m just a bit too emotional right now.  I don’t want him to see me like this.”  She reached into her purse and pulled out the page from the book.  “Here, take this.  He’ll want it now.”

Al nodded, taking the page from her.  He gave Thelma a hug before heading back into the room, but suddenly turned.  “Are you all right, Ma’am?”

Thelma dabbed at her eyes.  “John always called me his best girl, but he never said it in front of the children.  It was always just a special thing between the two of us.”

“Couldn’t Sam have overheard it one time?”

“I don’t think so.  As I say, it was just between us.”

Al nodded and then continued back into the room.

“Where did you go?  Is Mom okay?”  Sam asked with a worried expression on his face.

“I went to check on your mother.  She seemed rather moved by your tale.  I wanted to make sure she was all right and she is.  She’ll be back in any time now.”

“It’s not a tale, Al.  There was a bright light and it felt warm and peaceful.  I wanted to stay but they told me I had to come back.  It was real Al.  I could see the EMT’s working on my body but I wasn’t in it anymore.”  He suddenly remembered how distraught Al had been on the way to the hospital.  “I’m sorry I caused you so much grief.  I know you kept your promise, Al.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam.  I’m just thankful that you’re alive and awake!”

“When I woke up just now I could hear you reading ‘The Call of the Wild.’  For a moment, I thought it was Dad.”

“Yeah.  Well.”  He handed the paper to Sam.  “Here’s the page from the book.  It was in the leaves where we found you.  You must have dropped it.”

Sam reached out, taking the folded page.  The gratitude in Sam’s eyes was deep and true and he hoarsely stated “Thank you, Al.  It means a lot to me.  I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost this.”

“I know that, Kid.  I got this for you as well.”  Al placed the book down on the bed next to Sam.

Sam ran his hand gently over the cover of the book before looking back up to Al, gratitude shining from his eyes.  “You went back for it,” he said softly.

“I promised you we’d get it back once we were safe.”  Al chuckled softly, “I think I’ve read it so many times now that I’ve got it memorized.”

“Thank you,” Sam again simply said.

By this time, the Doctor had arrived.  He examined Sam putting him through some simple neurological checks that he seemed to pass with flying colors.  There didn’t seem to be any sign of the brain damage they’d been warned could happen.  “Keep this up and you’ll be home before you know it.”

Sam smiled.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

While the doctor examined Sam, Al picked up the bag that Thelma had dropped by the door.  “Oh my God, she must have found an Italian bakery,” he said in surprise opening the bag and looking in.  “These are authentic cannolis!”

“Let me have one,” Sam begged his voice a little stronger.  “I’m staved.”

“Hey…you get your own…she got these for me.”

“You sound like Tom!”

“Smart man!”  Al stopped for a moment and looked over to Sam, his puppy dog face firmly plastered on.  “Okay.  You can have one…”  Sam’s face started to brighten and then fell again as Al finished, “…if the doc here says it’s all right.”

Sam turned his puppy face on the unsuspecting doctor, begging him, “Please, can I have one?”

“I’d rather start you on clear fluids.”

“I’m willing to take the consequences if I don’t tolerate one well.  I’ve been eating freeze-dried food for the last week, doctor.  I’d like to eat something different.”

At Sam’s mention of time a hush fell over the room.

“What?” Sam asked sensing there was something they weren’t telling him and looking from Dr. Williams to Al.

“It’s been nearly two weeks since you were found,” Dr. Williams finally told him.

“Two weeks?” Sam asked in shock.

“You’ve been comatose for twelve days.”

“I was starting to think you were just gonna keep sleeping and let me do all the work,” Al said trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s why Mom said three weeks.”  Sam was silent for a moment trying to digest the news that it had been nearly two weeks since he’d last been conscious.  “I guess that’s why this is here,” he said touching the n-g tube.  “Wow, two weeks.”  Sam took a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision.  “I’m still hungry and want one of those cannolis and I’m willing to take the risk.”

“All right,” Dr. Williams gave in, “But only half of one.”

Al happily handed Sam a half a cannoli right as his mother walked in.  “Just like Tom, feeding Sam stuff that isn’t good for him.”

Sam just smiled back at his mother, a big glob of cannoli cream on the side of this mouth. 

0000000

As it turned out, Sam didn’t even come close to finishing the half of cannoli the doctor had allowed him.  After just a couple of bites, his eyes grew heavy and he started to drift to sleep.

Thelma rescued the cannoli from his hand before it could fall and make a mess of the sheets.

Dr. Williams, who had stayed in the room to make sure there were no ill effects from the cannoli, quickly assured Al and Thelma that it was perfectly normal that Sam would drop off to sleep so quickly.  His body was still very weak, he explained to them.  He told them that Sam would probably do this for the next couple of days as he regained his strength but that he was, indeed, in a normal sleep and not the deep unconsciousness of the coma.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with his mind,” Al said.  “I guess we don’t have to worry about that.”

“There doesn’t,” Dr. Williams agreed.  “Of course he hasn’t been thoroughly examined or tested yet and there is the possibility that there could be something we’re not seeing yet.  We’ll let him rest tonight and schedule the tests for tomorrow.  He was well oriented, though, and recognized both of you and seemed to have some awareness of what happened so I’m not worried that anything will be found.  The test will be more of a precaution.”

Both Al and Thelma let out a sigh of relief.  The possibility that Sam could wake up brain damaged had hung over their heads like the Sword of Damocles.

“So what now, doctor,” Thelma asked.

“Now we let him rest tonight.  He’ll probably be awake on and off for short times.  Tomorrow we’ll run some neurological tests on him and make sure everything on that end is set.  After that, it’s pretty much going to be up to Sam as to how quickly he starts to regain his strength.  We’ll start him on a soft diet tomorrow.  It’s been a while since he’s had any solid food and it’s best not to overwhelm his system at once.  That cannoli was the exception and, frankly, I’m surprised he had it in him to chew and eat as much of it as he did.  Since he’s holding it down well we can assume it won’t be a problem to start him eating again.  I’m hoping we can get him up and moving around by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Out of bed?” Thelma asked interrupting the doctor in surprise.  “Is he going to be ready for that?”

“I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t be,” Dr Williams answered.  “The sooner he’s up and moving around the better it is for him.  The longer he’s lying in that bed the more we’re opening the door for a whole host of complications – anything from pneumonia to a UTI.  He doesn’t need anything like that right now and it could likely set his recovery back significantly.  He’ll likely need a lot of help and support to get moving since he hasn’t been up for almost two weeks but once we get him going you’ll see he’ll improve remarkably.”

“How much longer do you think he’ll have to stay here?” Al asked.

“Being conservative, I’d say he’ll probably be here at least another weak.”

“And then we can take him home?” Thelma asked hopefully.

“I see no reason why not.  He’ll still need some continued therapy after that for his shoulder and most likely surgery to repair it as well.  Dr. Ladd will be able to talk to you more about that.  He’ll also need to continue with follow-ups with a nephrologist to be sure everything with that kidney continues to check out.  I’ll be able to recommend someone he can see once he’s back in New Mexico.

Right now I’d suggest that the two of you go on back to your hotel and get some rest of your own.  At least one of you has been here with Sam constantly and you need to start getting your own rest.  Sam might be awake now but he’s still got a long road ahead of him to complete recovery and he’s going to need you healthy for that.”

“I’m staying right here,” Thelma said resolutely.  “You said there’s a chance he might wake during the night and I don’t want him to be alone when he does.”

“I’m not going anywhere either,” Al said.

“Somehow I knew that’s the answer I’d get from both of you but I had to try.  I’ll be back in tomorrow morning to check on him.  In the meantime, do try to get some rest of your own.”

After Dr. Williams had left the room, Thelma spontaneously hugged Al.  “He’s going to be all right.  My baby’s going to be all right.”

“I never doubted him for a minute,” Al said returning the hug.

Letting Al go, Thelma went back over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it.  Leaning over she grabbed a tissue out of the box and used it to wipe off the glob of cream that was still on Sam’s face.  “He looks so peaceful when he sleeps,” she said.  “I used to love to just watch him sleeping when he was growing up.”  She looked up at Al where he stood beside the bed.  “I used to love to watch all three of them when they slept.  My little angels.”  Sam picked just that moment to shift in the bed and roll partially over nudging his mother from where she was sitting.  Al quickly put out a hand to her so she wouldn’t fall.

“Looks like your little angel wants the whole bed to himself.”

“He never was one to stay still when he slept.”  She looked thoughtful for a moment then laughed softly.  “We visited with one of John’s sisters out of state when Sam about seven.  He and Tom had to share the sleeper sofa in the living room and every night for a week John and I would have to play ‘referee’ between the two.  Without fail, Tom would call for one of us to come get Sam off him.  When we’d get out there, Sam would have an arm or a leg thrown over Tom and he just wouldn’t move.  We’d end up having to pick him up to move him over to his side and he’d never wake up.  The last day we were there Tom woke up with a black eye from where Sam had hit him.  Poor boy got no relief from the teasing that day from his cousins for letting his baby brother beat him up.”  She reached down to brush the back of her hand gently over Sam’s cheek.  “When he realized what he’d done Sam cried for an hour.  He never could stand to see anyone or anything hurt.  Tom wanted to be mad at him but when he saw how sad Sam was, he just couldn’t.  He never was one to let anyone or anything get his baby brother down.”

“They were close,” Al said more as a statement than a question.

“Very.  It hurt Sam very deeply when Tom was…when Tom died and then when John followed two years afterwards.  He seemed to pull into himself then.  It was almost as if he was trying to block out the rest of the world so that he couldn’t be hurt anymore.  At first, I was so hurt and angry myself I didn’t see what it was doing to Sam.”  She stopped, thinking and then raised her head back up stating, “You know that’s why he became a medical doctor.  To appease me.”

Al sensed in Thelma the same reluctance to talk about her oldest son’s death that he’d gotten from Sam and chose not to question it.  Obviously, it was something that was still a painful wound for the family and he had no intention of inflicting pain when it wasn’t necessary.

Thelma seemed to pull herself visibly from the line of thinking.  “You’ve been here all day with Sam.  You should head back to get some dinner and get some sleep.”

“You’ll call me if there are any changes, Mrs. Beckett?”

She nodded and then as if she’d make a decision she stated, “You know, I think that after these past twelve days, you may call me Thelma.”

Al smiled.  “And I would be honored for you to call me Al.”  He looked down at young man sleeping, seeing his eyes moving under the lids in REM sleep.  “He’s dreaming.”

Thelma nodded.  “It must be a good dream.  He’s smiling.”

Al nodded to her and turned to leave the room.  The rhythm of the last twelve days was continuing but now with a lighter feel.  Sam was going to be all right.  Al’s mind turned towards the future.  He was expecting to hear any day about the decision by the committee.  He had been in contact with the project staff since the day after Sam’s fever broke.  No word had been received as of that time.  Al had provided the contact information of where he was staying in Durango.  He figured that sometime this next week, they would know if Sam’s dream of building Project Quantum Leap would come to fruition.  Al sincerely hoped the answer would be yes.

Chapter 29

It was either very late in the middle of the night or very early in the morning depending on how you wanted to look at it when Sam woke again.  The only light on in the room was the one over his bed that aimed up at the ceiling bathing the room in a very dim light.

“Mom?” Sam asked when he saw his mother by his bedside.

“I’m right here, Sweetheart,” Thelma said getting up from her chair and sitting on the edge of the bed near Sam.

“What are you still doing here?  It’s got to be really late.”

“According to the clock it’s really early.”  Thelma brushed Sam’s bangs back from his forehead.  “I wasn’t quite ready to leave you alone yet.  How are you feeling?”

Sam seemed to mull the question over for a little bit.  “Really tired.  That must sound strange since I’ve pretty much been sleeping for two weeks.”

“Not so strange.  Your body’s had to do a lot of healing in those two weeks.  I’m sure that’s taken a lot out of you.”  She gently grabbed Sam’s hand pushing it down to rest on his chest when he reached for the n-g tube.  “You need to leave that alone.  It’s helping you.”

“I don’t like it.  It’s uncomfortable and it’s making my nose itch and my throat sore.”  When Thelma let go of his hand, he again attempted to pull on the n-g tube.  Again his hand was intercepted before it reached its mark.

“I know it’s not very comfortable but you need to leave it alone until Dr. Williams takes it out.”  Thelma again rested Sam’s hand on his chest and patted it lightly.

Sam stubbornly continued to insist on taking out the feeding tube.  “I don’t need it anymore.  I’m awake and I can eat on my own.”

Thelma again pulled his hands down from his face.  “I’m sure, Sweetie but how about if we let Dr. Williams make that decision.  How would you feel if one of your patients didn’t follow your orders, Dr. Beckett?”  She smiled as she said the latter. 

“That’s not fair, Mom.”  He stopped.  “Okay, I admit that I wouldn’t like that one bit,” Sam said, finally acquiescing to his mother’s wishes.  He changed the subject.  “Can I some water?  I’m awful thirsty.”

“Sure thing.”  Thelma reached for cup water.  This time Sam was not only able to drink out of the straw but, with his mother’s assistance, was also able to hold the cup.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep and rest now,” Thelma suggested when Sam was done with the water.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You should go back to the hotel or wherever you’re staying and get some sleep, too.  I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”

Thelma got up from the bed and leaned down to smooth out and tuck the blanket around Sam.  “If I didn’t know better, young man, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No, Mom, I’m not.  I just thought you might be tired.”

“If I am it’s a good kind of tired because I’ve been taking care of my son.”  Satisfied with the way the blankets were Thelma kissed Sam on the forehead and straightened up.  “Now it’s time for you to be quiet, close your eyes and go back to sleep and I don’t want to hear any buts.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”  Sam rolled over onto his side curling up and dropping almost instantly back to sleep.

Thelma again smoothed out the blanket that had been pulled askew with Sam’s movements and sat back down in the chair to watch her son sleep.

Chapter 30

The next day Al walked into Sam’s room with a box wrapped in paper with a big bow.  Sam was awake, finishing his breakfast under the watchful eyes of his mother.  Al immediately noticed the absence of the n-g tube and breathed a sigh of relief.  It was just one more sign that Sam was on his way to recovery.

He had taken a final bite right before Al walked in.  “What’s that,” he mouthed around the oatmeal.

“Well, you told me that I owed you a sweater.  Surprise, here it is.”

Sam reached out and took the box.  He opened it, ripping the paper off and lifting the lid.  When he saw the sweater, his face blanched.  “Ummm.  Gee Al.  It’s…ummm…it’s really…interesting.”

Thelma had started to say something when she caught sight of Al’s face.  He had a finger to his lips and held up a bag behind his back that she could see and Sam couldn’t.  She caught the suggestion that she should just follow along.  She’d learned to trust Al during the almost two weeks they’d been Sam’s team together and this looked like it could prove very interesting.  “Yes, Sam.  Quite interesting.  I like the orange, lemon, and lime green squiggles.  It looks almost tropical.  I think it’ll look just splendid on you,” she said following along with the joke Al has begun.

Sam didn’t want to hurt Al’s feelings and his mother seemed to like it.  Maybe it really was better than he thought it was.  He looked at it again, trying to discern what his mother saw in it.  “Well I guess I could get used to it.  It’s…uh…it’s definitely different.  Not quite the same as the one I lost, though.”

Al brought the bag from behind his back, rested it on the edge of the bed, and reached into it.  Nonchalantly he said, “Oh, you mean this boring sweater?” as he pulled out the cream colored cotton Irish knit sweater that Sam had claimed to be one of his favorites when they’d left it behind on the mountain.

Sam’s face crinkled in a grin as he reached out to grab it.  “Gimme that.  Geez, Al.  I thought I’d really have to wear this one.”  He gestured to the one in the box.

Al laughed.  “You’re still too easy, Sam!  As for that sweater, that one’s for me.  You could never handle something that hot.”

“Thank God for that!”  Sam was smiling, looking over his newly returned sweater and handling the box back to Al. 

Thelma smiled at the gentle banter between Al and Sam, realizing for the first time that it reminded her of how Tom and Sam used to talk - back before her oldest son had left them for the jungles of Vietnam.

It had taken two years for the deep bond of brotherhood to go both ways between Tom and Sam.  Sam had felt it immediately following Tom around like a puppy as soon as he could crawl and then walk.  Tom, on the other hand, had found Sam to be the most useless of God’s creations for those two years.  He’d even gone so far as to try to put Sam out with the rubbish one time.  John had caught him trying to stuff his baby brother into the trashcan in the kitchen.

Once they’d bonded, though, they’d been nearly inseparable.  Tom was Sam’s idol and he did whatever he could to follow in his footsteps always pushing to be as good as his brother had been in everything.  When Sam had set his sights on following in his brother’s footsteps and securing an appointment of his own to the Naval Academy, Tom had sat him down and told him he had to follow his own dreams.  Little did he know at the time that he’d be the one to make Sam’s dream a possibility with his GI life insurance policy.

Tom’s death had devastated Sam.  It was as if a part of him had been ripped away when Tom had died and it only grew worse the day of the funeral.  Sam had managed to get around his father and had seen his brother’s body in the casket and it had affected him deeply.  He had been hysterical with grief screaming out over and over about Tom’s face.  John had finally resorted to slapping Sam across the face to get him to stop screaming.  Thelma had never been sure what frightened her the most that day:  Sam’s hysterical cries, John slapping his son for the first time in his life, or the two of them on the floor crying.  She’d never asked John or Sam what it was they’d seen in that room.  It had been too painful and if that wound were ever to heal, it would have to be ignored.

Sam had been calm for the rest of the day at the funeral and back at the house when the family came over.  He’d gone to bed early that night and fallen immediately into a sound sleep.  Thelma had allowed herself to believe that whatever had affected Sam so deeply was over until his screams had filled the house late that evening.  It had taken both her and John to rouse him from the dream and even then, he’d been terrified and skittish.  She’d stayed beside him that long night rocking him back to sleep each time the dream would come.  Finally, he’d dropped into a deep sleep that he hadn’t roused from for two days.  Thelma had been so afraid that she was going to lose both of her sons and even when Dr. Berger assured them that Sam was just in shock and should be allowed to sleep it off and come out of it naturally she’d still worried until he’d finally awoken.  He seemed to have no memory of what had happened at the funeral home.  Whenever it was mentioned, he’d get a strange look on his face but claim to remember nothing.  Dr. Berger assured them that he’d just blocked it from his mind and that, perhaps, it might be best to leave it at that.

To her knowledge, Thelma didn’t think Sam had ever remembered the events of that day.  She knew he still was often visited by horrible dreams about his brother’s death but he still claimed to have only a fuzzy memory of the funeral.  She didn’t want to think of what effect there would be if and when he ever did remember.

When Dr. LoNigro had contacted the family after hearing of Tom’s death, John and Thelma had voiced their concerns about Sam.  Dr. LoNigro had offered to take Sam into his home before the semester started and give him the chance to regain the balance he’d lost when Tom had not returned from Vietnam.  Sam was told that it would be a good idea to get to know Cambridge before classes started and he’d readily agreed.  Thelma had sensed in Sam a need to get away from the farm and memories.

Sam didn’t come home for Thanksgiving his second year at MIT while he was finishing his bachelor’s degree.  He’d said that if he was going to finish his bachelors by the next spring, he needed the time.  Thelma had always felt it was really due to the memory of the Thanksgiving before he entered school.  The last one when Tom was home, as well as the events that happened the first Thanksgiving after Tom’s death.

At Tom’s last Thanksgiving, the boys had gone out pheasant hunting, Tom bringing home one pheasant and Sam two.  Then the showdown game with Bentleyville, Sam doing his best show big brother he was as good a basketball player only to have No-Nose Prewitt humiliate him in front of everyone at the game.  Tom had said it was all right but Sam had been crushed, feeling he’d let everyone down.  Tom had left a few days later and they received the news five months later that Tom would be coming home for burial.

The Thanksgiving after that, Sam had dutifully come home but it hadn’t been much of a holiday.  First John had told him that they had no choice but to sell off the farm and move into town.  It was either that or wait a few more months and it would be foreclosed on.  They’d been having trouble making ends meet for a while now and it had gotten to a point where they just couldn’t keep the farm anymore.

Sam had also had a mysterious accident in the barn that had left him with a blackened left eye and the right side of his face bruised.  He’d never explained what had happened.  The nightmares had also started again waking him in the middle of the night.

Sam seemed to do fine in school.  He finished his bachelor’s, walking for his diploma May of 1972 to receive his B.S. in Physics.  In addition to being accepted into the doctoral program in Physics at MIT, he’d been accepted into the Music Doctoral Program at Harvard and played at Carnegie Hall right after his nineteenth birthday in August of 1972.  Katie, John, and Thelma had flown to New York and listened as Sam literally played to a packed house ending with a standing ovation.  John had been proud of Sam but his sudden death two months later had thrown the family into further turmoil.

Sam hadn’t made it home on time for John’s funeral.  Looking back now, Thelma understood that fate had conspired against him, preventing him from reaching his destination as planned.  Sam had tried desperately to make it home, and had showed up about two hours late.  Both Thelma and Katie had been in such pain and neither had been willing to give Sam the benefit of understanding how much pain he was in as well.  Katie had refused to talk with him unless she had to and Thelma herself had been blind to how things were affecting Sam.  Within a year and half, Katie had married and moved out of the house.  Thelma stayed on in Elk Ridge for a few years working at the bank, finally moving to Hawaii with Katie after she divorced Chuck.

For six years after his father’s death, Sam had held in his anguish, not wanting to cause any further upset to his mother.  He turned to school for solace.  Not understanding, Thelma felt he’d simply turned his heart off.  He rarely showed up for holidays and she began to think it was because he felt he didn’t have to spend that time with his family anymore never understanding it was guilt that kept him away.

She remembered when he got his doctorates in Physics and Music, Thelma had told Sam she couldn’t be there as she had just moved to Hawaii.  She hadn’t meant it to hurt him, not consciously anyway, but Sam had taken this as further evidence that she was still upset with him.  Looking back to that time, she now was able to admit that in a lot of ways she was.  He’d gone straight into his medical coursework, receiving both his MD and Ph.D. in computer science three years later.

Thelma knew the MD was for her.  She’d always been proud of Sam when he’d shown an interest in medicine, telling John that she just knew he’d make a wonderful doctor.  She saw in Sam’s eyes the day he received the title of Doctor of Medicine the hope that she’d forgive him and she had, angry at herself for allowing six years to go by, knowing that Sam’s soul was still the kind and gentle one she’d seen from the moment of his birth.  He’d never turned off his heart, only found a way to use school to protect it even as it was breaking.  He’d broken down in tears when she’d given him the keychain as a token of his achievement.  The simple words “I’m so proud of you” had been the balm to heal the heart had been shattered by the cascading events since his brother had died.

She’d known his relationship with Dr. LoNigro had been the only one that had kept him focused during those six years and wasn’t surprised when Sam followed him to England in 1978.  The fact that he got two more degrees while there had become his pattern.  Every three years he got two doctorates.

When he’d arrived back in the states, Thelma had talked with Dr. LoNigro voicing her concern about Sam and his future.  Dr. LoNigro told her he had similar concerns but stated that he’d tried to provide the stability that Sam had needed, hoping that Sam himself would choose to break out of the academic world.  He spoke to her about the new opportunity that he’d heard about on a project in New Mexico.  He was going to recommend to the project managers that Sam would be a perfect addition to their team.  The offer had come the next year and Sam had left academia for the real world twelve years after Tom’s death.

She knew that it was on that project that Sam had met Al.  The man was an alcoholic then and was close to losing his job.  Sam had told her that he was going to do what he could to help Al Calavicci.  She’d been afraid that this man would hurt her son by abusing the sacrifice Sam was willing to make of his own career and had been concerned during their continuing friendship that had kept growing stronger.  Earlier this year when Sam had called to say he was getting married and that Al would be his best man, Thelma had wondered if he was the best choice for that role.

Seeing them now and remembering a few months before when ‘that woman’ had left her son at the altar, she realized what Sam had seen behind the façade that Albert Calavicci had built around his persona five years before.  Sam had found a friend that truly cared about him, who filled in the holes that Tom and John’s deaths had left.  He hadn’t replaced Sam’s brother or father but his friendship had helped to heal the hurt.  She looked at Al now and knew that as long as he was in Sam’s life, Sam would have someone to count on.  A true friend.

“Mom, you okay?” Sam asked concerned.

“What?” Thelma said coming back from her thoughts.  “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, my mind was wandering there for a little while.  Did you say something?”

“Not me, Al did.  He wanted to know if you thought I could pull off that monstrosity he bought.”  Sam tilted his head slightly to the side giving his mother and appraising look.  “You sure you’re okay, Mom.  You should probably go back to the hotel to get some rest.”

“Of course I’m fine.  Didn’t I say I was?  Now as for that sweater, though I do believe it’s quite an interesting pattern and will look quite dandy on Al I don’t believe it would suit you at all.  That lime green would clash horribly with your eyes.”

Thelma sat visiting with Sam and Al for another hour.  When she left the room to go back and get some rest, she knew that her son would be in good hands.

0000000

“You know, I think she finally likes me,” Al said after Thelma had left the room.

“Of course she does,” Sam answered distracted.  Somehow, it had always eluded him that his mother thought less than highly of Al.  “Did she look tired to you?”

“Of course she’s tired.  She’s been worrying about you night and day for almost three weeks now.  I think she has a right to be tired but that’s just it,” Al reassured seeing the wheels in Sam’s head turning.  “She’s just tired.  Now that you’re well on the way to recovery she won’t be worrying about you anymore and she’ll be right as rain in no time.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam responded though he still sounded unsure.

“So, I just gotta ask.  Did you wait for the doc to come take out the feeding tube or did you do it yourself?  I was surprised you didn’t demand Dr. Williams do it when he was in last night.”

“I would have if I hadn’t fallen asleep right away.  To answer your question, I waited for Dr. Williams to do it – though I was tempted to do it myself during the night.”

Sam and Al exchanged small talk for another little while before once again Sam’s body demanded the healing power of sleep.  Al couldn’t help but chuckle when he dropped off right in the middle of a sentence.

• Home • Up • Biographical • Theater • Media • Photos • Screencaps • Audio/Video • Resources • Downloads • Fan Fiction • Join In • Links • Site Map •