Message-Id: <199410310623.WAA10602@beasley.cisco.com> Date: Mon, 31 Oct 94 8:02 +0300 From: Yapha Schochet Subject: Thanksgiving part one This is a second story based on "The Leap Home". In my first story, called "Katie's Story", I wrote about the possible effects that "The Leap Home" might have had on Sam's sister, Katie. That story can be found in the ql-archive. When I posted my first story last May, I received a message from Linda Mayhew asking whether I had considered what effect "The Leap Home" might have had on young Sam, in addition to the effect it may have had on Katie. That idea had not occurred to me before Linda suggested it. This story is my attempt to think through her idea. I would like to thank Linda Mayhew for giving me the idea for this story. Thanks also go to Terri Librande for being so encouraging about my writing. Constructive comments are welcome. Yapha Schochet Yapha@har2.huji.ac.il -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thanksgiving Part One It was a Tuesday afternoon in late November and sixteen year old Sam Beckett was cutting through a field of seed corn, hurrying home from school and feeling happy. Sam was hurrying because he had stayed at school to practice basketball, as the game against Bentleyville was coming up on Friday. So he was late getting to his chores and he didn't want his father to think him irresponsible. He was happy because his older brother, Tom, would be coming home on leave for Thanksgiving. Of course, after the holiday Tom would go to Vietnam and Sam didn't want to think about that or about what might happen to his brother there. For now he thought only about how much he had missed his brother since Tom first left for Annapolis and about how good it would be to have him home for a few days. Tom would probably even be able to give him some pointers on how to win the Bentleyville game. Sam hurried on his way, thinking about basketball and his brother, Tom. ----------------------------------------------- The next thing Sam knew for certain, he was being held aloft and congratulated on the basketball court and the sound of his brother's name, "Tom" seemed to echo through his head. He was looking straight at his brother, who was standing in the crowd. So he waved, and Tom gave him the the thumbs up signal. This must be the Bentleyville game, he thought, and somehow he must have been responsible for winning it. But he couldn't remember the game or anything much since he was on his way home from school on Tuesday. Not remembering bothered Sam. He had a photographic memory and normally he remembered everything without even trying. Because Sam was unusually bright his parents had always thought that medicine might turn out to be the natural profession for him. Sam did have enough interest to want to go into it, as long as he could pursue his other interests, such as physics and archaeology as well. He had done some reading of medical texts and now he worried that his loss of memory might indicate epilepsy, or worse. He didn't want to think about that "worse". But Sam's mind was soon distracted from his own problems and focused on his brother. He had so looked forward to having this last long weekend with Tom, and now he couldn't seem to remember three full days of Tom's visit. At dinner that night he turned to Tom and said, "Tom, I wish you didn't have to go to Vietnam." Tom, his mother and father, and his twelve year old sister, Katie, all exchanged glances. "Oh, Sam," his mother said in a warning tone, "I hope you're not going to start _that_ again." "Start what again, Mom?" he asked, confused. "Now, Sam Beckett, don't go telling me you can't remember. You remember everything that ever happened since before your second birthday and we all know it." "I'm sorry, Mom, but this time I ... can't ... remember.". "You really can't remember, can you?" Sam's mother came around the table and felt his forehead. "Well, you don't have a temperature, anyway." "Is Sam going to die?" Katie asked out of nowhere. "Of course not," their mother replied, slightly annoyed, "whatever put that idea in your head?" "This book I read from the school library. It's a true story about a teenaged boy who's real smart like Sam, and suddenly starts to lose his memory, only he dies of a brain tumor." "Now, listen, all of you," said their mother, "I don't want to hear any more talk about dying. We've had far too much talk in the past few days about members of this family dying and I don't want to hear any more of it." Sam didn't know what she was talking about, but he knew that he should have known, and Katie's remark about the brain tumor had put his own fear of what might be happening to him into clear precise words. Sam's worry must have shown on his face. His mother gave him a comforting hug and said, "Sam, dear, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about but we'll get the doctor in to see you tomorrow just to be certain." His father nodded in confirmation and reached over to squeeze Sam's shoulder and even Katie looked as if she would have liked to take back what she had said. Then with forced cheerfulness his mother added, "Now, who wants some leftover pumpkin pie?" "Leftover" meant the pie had been served once before, probably at Thanksgiving dinner, but he couldn't remember anything about Thanksgiving day at all. Sam, who usually loved his mother's pumpkin pie suddenly had no appetite. He asked to be excused and went up to his room. After a few minutes there was a knock on his door and Tom came in. "That was some game you played today, little brother, I couldn't have done better myself." "Thanks, Tom, I just wish I could remember it." "You know what, I think you're still worried about me, afraid I'll be killed in Vietnam like you've been saying I would." "Did I say that? Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I don't remember saying that, but I didn't mean it." "You meant it all right. I think you're going through a difficult time, you're concerned about leaving home next year, you're naturally worried about me, and there are some things your mind just doesn't want to remember. People block out the things they don't want to remember all the time, only you have such a phenomenal memory that you're not used to it. I bet there's not a thing wrong with you, really. And don't pay any attention to Katie. You know how her imagination runs a way with her sometimes." "Thanks, Tom, I sure hope you're right." "Trust me, little brother." The doctor came and pretty much agreed with Tom. "That was a fine basketball game you played for Elk Ridge, young man." "Thanks, Doc, only I can't seem to remember it." "So your parents have been telling me." "Doc, is there something wrong with me, I mean seriously wrong?" "Now, Sam, you've been reading my medical books since you were ten, and you probably have yourself half burried by now in your imagination. Am I right?" He waited for Sam's nod and continued. "What exactly is it that you're afraid of, epilepsy?" Sam nodded again. That was one choice anyway. "Well, I can tell you that even a partial epileptic seisure would have prevented you from performing the way you did yesterday on the basketball court. I can say with almost one hundred percent certainty that you don't have epilepsy." Sam took a deep breath and asked, "Then what do I have?" "And if you're worried about a brain tumor, well, are you showing any symptoms? Headaches? Nausea? Blurred vision?" Sam shook his head at each of the questions. Well, then, I'm pretty sure you don't have a brain tumor. And you're in great shape, fella, it comes from all that basketball and martial arts training you do. I'm going to schedule some tests just to be absolutely certain, but I'm willing to bet my winnings from the Bentleyville game that they'll all come back negative." Sam's tests did come back negative and life in the Beckett household quickly returned to normal. Tom left for Vietnam. Sam deliberated between Caltech and M.I.T. and went on playing basketball for his winning team. Katie got friendly with a boy in her class and made a fuss when her mother insisted she was too young to go out except in a group. Almost as soon as Tom waved goodbye, Katie moved into his old bedroom without so much as a by your leave. "But I thought I'd take that room for the next year," Sam objected. "You told me last week that I could have it. Or is that one of the things you've decided not to remember?" "You did tell your sister she could have the room, son," their father added gently. Sam knew his test results were negative and that nothing was seriously wrong with him, but he couldn't help hoping that he hadn't promised away anything else he wanted for himself during those days that were missing from his memory. There was another incident with Katie. Sam was playing guitar for the family and she requested a song that he'd never heard of, claiming he had played it for her the previous week and had predicted that John Lennon would write it in a couple of years. Sam couldn't remember anything about it. Used to remembering absolutely everything, Sam again found this not remembering unnverving and he didn't even want to guess what must be going on in Katie's mind. continued.... Yapha Schochet Yapha@har2.huji.ac.il