From: Jason Eric Dzembo Date: Mon, 30 Aug 1993 07:39:04 -0400 Message-Id: <9308301139.AA28329@localhost> "-ga. To-ga To-ga!" The chant rang louder in Sam's ears, drawing closer to him from a direction that wasn't really a direction, as he arrived in his new location in space and time. Bodies pressed close around him, male and female, most of them dressed in sheets. Or, he corrected himself, togas, as the chant reminded him. A few wore ivy in their hair, prompting Sam to raise a tentative hand to his ear. He was thankfully clear of foliage. Someone took his hand gently in a cool, firm grasp and pulled it away from his head. He turned to face the person holding his hand. It was Miriam, and somehow, Sam was unsurprised; it was becoming commonplace for him to leap in, in her presence. As their eyes met, she squeezed his hand and winked at him. Comprehension came to him slowly and he returned his gaze to Miriam's hand holding his. In time with the voices surrounding his, he chanted, "Oh, boy." Part IV March 15, 1987 Miriam stepped into Sam, a half-smile on her lips. As she leaned forward to kiss him, Sam, took an involuntary step backwards, bumping into a man who had been passing behind him. The impact caused the man's mug of beer to spill, splashing both men's feet through their sandals. Sam turned to apologize profusely, taking advantage of this distraction to remove his hand from Miriam's. It wasn't that he was unattracted to her; indeed quite the opposite was true. Every time he'd encountered her, he discovered a different facet of her life, another quality she had that enforced his belief that her death was premature. The more he learned about her, the more he cared for her. He didn't think it could be called love, though. But his reticence towards her was due more to the fact that he knew her future, knew that she was destined to die too young and, as long as that future remained unchanged, he didn't feel justified dallying with her. Once he found a way to prevent her death, then maybe. Unfortunately, short of being on the scene at the time of her death, Sam wasn't sure how he could save her. Warnings would be considered humorless jokes, unless he warned her enough times as enough different people in different times. Probably, he realized belatedly, he should have been trying to warn her all along. Maybe if he started now, there might still be a chance. He had to find a way to fit it into their conversation. But first, he had to deal with the man with the beer. "I'm sorry about that," Sam said, holding out a hand to steady the man he'd bumped. The man was wearing a toga with the word "Hall" stitched across the back, and was not unhandsome. He grinned good-naturedly and said, "No problem, man. It could happen to anyone." "Let me buy you aonther to make up for it?" Sam offered, realizing as he spoke that there didn't seem to much anywhere on his person that he could be carrying a wallet. The toga was pocketless. "It's a nice offer," the man replied, "but it's a free bar." He grinned widely and said, "Why don't I bump into you later and spill your beer, and we'll call it even." "Fair enough," Sam said, returning the smile. Another man joined them, laughing, "Nice move, James." He slapped the man with the beer on the back and moved on. The man nodded at Sam and went back the way he had come from before their encounter. Sam turned back to Miriam who was standing nearby watching him curiously. Sam suddenly got the sinking feeling that pulling away from her kiss had been a bad decision. But, until he understood his situation and his relationship to Miriam better, Sam was hesitant to get too close. What was keeping Al? As though on cue, the Imaging Chamber door opened behind Miriam and Al entered. Sam's jaw dropped at the sight of Al, cigar and handlink in his hands, dressed in a white toga and sandals. A halo of ivy on his head completed the outfit. As though realizing the outfit was less colorful than usual, Al had included an oval-shaped button depicting swirls and splotches of every color of the rainbow. His gaze met Sam's and he did a brief pirouette before asking, "What do you think?" "Now I know why I've never seen you in a toga before," Sam responded, smiling widely. "What?" Miriam asked, in a tone of mingled surprise and curiousity. An almost imperceptible amount of displeasure was present as well. "Oops," Al commented, glancing at Miriam. The glance lingered and he circled around to view her from Sam's perspective. "Oh, Sam," he breathed, "You lucky dog." Sam winced, wishing he could respond to Al, but knowing it was a better idea to get himself out of this hole before digging any others. "What I mean is, I, uh, I just got so distracted by you in your toga that I backed into that guy. I-uh..." He smiled weakly and said, "You look beautiful." Miriam smiled and said, "Oh. For a second, I thought you didn't like it." She stepped back, doing a pirouette of her own. "You know, Sam," Al commented, propping his chin in his hand and scrutizining Miriam, "I'll bet she made that toga herself. It just has that extra touch of...something. I can't really define it, but it's definitely a step above your normal, run of the mill toga. She really is pretty good when it comes to this costuming thing." "You're beautiful," Sam repeated. After a pause he added, "Can I get you a drink?" "Sure," Miriam agreed. "Be right back." Sam turned on his heel and walked towards the bar. Al fell into step beside him. "Well?" Sam muttered, hoping none of the other party goers were paying attention to him. "Well, I don't know about you," Al said, "But I think this is great. Can you believe we're actually at a toga party in the basement of the very frat house where Animal House was filmed?" "What?" Sam asked, startled. He glanced around and asked, "You mean this is all a movie?" "Nonono, Sam," Al replied, "The movie was made years ago, but it was filmed here, in Eugene, Oregon. Unfortunately, the house is getting torn down next week, so a bunch of the students at the University decided to have one last toga party here to see it off." He looked at Sam, wide-eyed and said, "Hey, maybe you're here to save a national landmark!" Sam regarded the hologram coldly and commented, "Apparently, we have different ideas as to what consititues a national landmark." "Apparently," Al replied. He checked the handlink and said, "No, I don't think that's it. According to Ziggy, Sacred Heart Hospital builds some sort of children's clinic here instead and thousands of people are helped by the work they do." He gave the handlink a dejected smack, and the device squealed in protest. "Weird place to put a clinic, right between two frat houses." "I'm probably here for Miriam again," Sam said, adding, "I think I'm her boyfriend." "Two dates does not a boyfriend make, Sam. At least not yet," Al replied. He consulted the handlink again and explained, "Your name is Brad Willoughby, and you're a junior at the University of Oregon. This is your second date with Miriam. The two of you date for almost six years. Though you were engaged to be married, she calls the whole thing off in December of 1992, when she finds out you've been seeing someone else for over a year." He stared at Sam over the handlink. "Sam, you sleaze!" "Then I must be here to prevent Miriam from dating Brad," Sam remarked, silently relieved that he wouldn't have to get too intimate with Miriam. She wasn't the type of woman he could love and leave...or leap, as the case may be. A relationship with her was long-term and serious and, unforunately, Sam's lifestyle didn't allow for that sort of relationship, as he'd been reminded too many times in the past. "Probably, although my money's still on the national landmark theory," Al said, "But, I'll go have Ziggy run some more scenarios and see what else we can dig up." In response to his handlink commands, the Imaging Chamber door opened behind him. As he stepped into the rectangle of light, he met Sam's eyes and said, "Let her down easy, Sam." The door closed, cutting off communication. Sam got a couple beers and returned to Miriam, unsure how to break things off with her. He wanted to let her down gently, but at the same time, he had to make sure she didn't patch things up with Brad after Sam leaped out. He didn't want to hurt her, but in the end he decided there was no way around it. He'd have to take the straight forward approach and hope for the best. She took a tentative sip from the mug and studied Sam over the rim. Sam looked at her questioningly and, when she swallowed, she asked casually, "Who were you talking to?" "Talking to?" Sam asked, glancing back the way he'd come. "Me?" "Talking to," Miriam agreed, "You. You seemed pretty engrossed in conversation with yourself just now." "Well, I, uh..." Sam shrugged, "Look, it's a long story; think we could talk about it outside where it's a little quieter?" Miriam shrugged acquiescence and they made their way outside. The night was crisp, but not cold, and the area was lit well from the lights of the building behind them and the frat houses on either side. They walked through the evening in silence for a moment, the noise of the party fading behind them. After a moment Miriam asked, "Well?" Sam sighed and launched into it. "Miriam, I don't think this is working." She glanced at him sharply and asked, "What do you mean?" The quaver in her voice told Sam that she already knew where he was leading. He felt like a heel, but plowed on, knowing the consequences of his inaction would be worse than the heartbreak he was about to put her through. "It's not you," Sam said, "Really. I think you're beautiful and talented and a wonderful person. I just-" "If you're going to break up with me, Brad, please just skip all the fluff." She spoke softly and she closed her eyes too late to prevent a single tear from rolling down her cheek. "I don't think we should see each other again," Sam said heavily. He tried to meet her eyes, but she avoided his gaze and turned away from him. "You told me you loved me," she whispered, "Why would you tell someone that on the first date unless you meant it?" Sam placed a gentle hand on her shoulder but she pulled away, whirling to face him, her bloodshot eyes blazing. "You bastard," she spat, "Just get the Hell away from me." She turned and ran, sobbing. "Miriam, wait!" Sam shouted, reaching after her and missing. "Sam!" Al popped in beside him. "What are you doing?" "I'm breaking up with Miriam," Sam responded sharply, "Don't you come in here and tell me that's not why I'm here, Al, because you're a little late." "No, Sam, it's not that. History's changed, though!" He gestured with the handlink and said, "In twenty minutes, she's going to fall during a riot and break her leg. It never heals properly and, as a result, she never performs on the stage again." Sam stared, momentarily overwhelmed by the information. He sorted through it a piece at a time. "What's the riot all about?" "Well it's not really a riot, per se," Al explained, "It's really just a group of people razzing a couple of local throwbacks to the Sixties. A photojournalist for the local newspaper and a reporter for the local news show up, and the gang mentality gets the group to start showing off, everyone trying to be in front. In the hubbub, Miriam gets knocked down." "I've got to stop her," Sam stated the obvious, running down the same path Miriam had taken. He reached a street, but couldn't see Miriam anywhere. "I've lost her," he reported to Al, who had remained centered on Sam the whole time. Checking the handlink, Al reported, "She's about two blocks that way. If you hurry, you should be able to catch her. Ziggy says she's walking slowly." "Probably crying her eyes out," Sam muttered. He ran in the direction Al had indicated. In as few minutes, he saw and heard a crowd of people at the end of the block and picked up his pace as much as his tired legs would allow. Evidently Miriam had sped up again when she spotted them, eager to lose herself in the crowd in an effort to get as far from Sam as possible. A car pulled up to the curb as Sam reached the outer fringe of the crowd. From what he could see, the crowd had surrounded a young couple, hippies by the look of them, and were jeering and taunting them. The couple seemed unmoved by the crowd. "Their names are Brother Jed and Sister Cindy, Sam," Al reported, "They're kind of a local spectacle here. They come into town every year when the weather starts to get nice and try to preach to anyone who will listen." He remarked, "Evidently their version of God is a fair weather friend." "Where's Miriam?" Sam asked, secure that no one in the group would be paying much attention to him. He couldn't find her in the jumble of bodies. "Follow me," Al said, walking through the crowd, literally. Sam followed at a slower, more awkward pace. As a young woman with a large camera was climbing out of the car, a news van parked behind her. She glanced in its direction, waving recognition to the driver. Most of the crowd hadn't noticed their presence yet, intent on tormenting the young couple. Towards the center of the group, Sam found himself coming rather abruptly upon Miriam. She wasn't even bothering to tease the couple, preoccupied with her own emotions. She turned to look at Sam incuriously before doing a doubletake. "What are you doing here, Brad?" she demanded, "I thought you didn't want to see me again." "Hey," someone shouted, "Reporter!" The crowd began to shuffle, like air molecules when the temperature rose. A rather large man bumped Sam without comment. Someone else bumped into Miriam and she and Sam found themselves pressed together for a moment as the entire group tried to squeeze into the picture being taken by the photojournalist. "Can we talk?" Sam asked over the noise. "Right now?" she demanded with a look around. "You're safe, Sam," Al commented, "She would have fallen right then if you weren't standing there." "Yeah," Sam replied, "I think now would be a good time." The crowd began to spread out as the photojournalist put her camera away and approached the hippies. Sam took Miriam's hand and led her out of the crowd. They began walking back towards the frat house. She stared straight ahead, her willingness to follow him her only indication that she was listening. "I just wanted to say I was sorry," Sam said, "I shouldn't have been so abrupt." She shrugged. "And I shouldn't have told you I loved you if I didn't mean it." He wondered briefly if Brad really had meant it. The point was moot though; even if the man had been sincere, his sincerity had faded after a few years. "You're right," Miriam agreed, "You shouldn't have." Her tone was hurt, but she had cooled down some. "I just think you deserve someone better than me," Sam said gently, "I would just end up breaking your heart anyway. I guess I was just overwhelmed during our first date, and I jumped the gun a bit." "Yeah, just a bit," Miriam agreed, smiling faintly. "Can you forgive me?" Sam asked. Miriam stopped and he turned to face her. She smiled patiently and said, "I guess so. I think I overreacted, too. I shouldn't have grown so attached so quickly." "I know it's a cliche, but I'd like it if we could remain friends. I do like you. I just think you deserve someone better." Sam said. Miriam nodded, smiling. "I think I could live with that." She took Sam's hand tentatively and squeezed it. "Well done, Sam," Al commented, "Miriam and Brad stay in touch for a while, although they grow apart when they graduate next year." As he read from the handlink his eyes widen and he said, "Oh and get this. A few weeks before she would have broken up with Brad, she meets a man named Mark Gerber and they start dating. She called him her 'Nice Jewish Boy'." Al digressed from the narrative for a moment, laughing, "You know, Sam, that's funny. That's the same thing my second, no, my third daughter, Ruthie, calls her boyfriend." He continued, "Anyway, Miriam and Mark date for a few months; there were even rumors of wedding bells, and Ziggy says they would have gotten married if..." He stopped and met Sam's eyes sadly, concluding, "...if she hadn't died first." "I'm going to miss you," Miriam whispered. "I'll miss you, too," Sam replied, truthfully, "Trust me, though. Someday you'll find Mr. Right and, when you do, don't ever let him go." Miriam smiled and murmured, "Til death do we part." An undefinable force tugged at Sam's essence and he leaped....