From: cheryl492@aol.com
To: alt-ql-creative@cisco.com
Subject: Twist in Time - Part 3
Date: Thu, 03 Jun 93 18:11:44 EDT
Message-Id: <9306031811.tn11446@aol.com>

Twist in Time 
Cheryl A. Bellucci

Part 3

     If Sam hadn't been so preoccupied with the knowledge of what was
to happen the next day, he might have enjoyed the walk to Wayne's
apartment.  As he crossed the street, all he could do was wonder which
houses were to be destroyed and who would die.  He walked across the
park and looked up at the trees.  What would be left after tomorrow?
He paused next to the pavillion and watched some kids play tag, unaware
of the disaster that was to befall the town in less than twenty-four
hours.  The high school Al had mentioned was just across from where he
was standing.  School had been out for awhile, but some of the students
and teachers who had stayed late for one reason or another were coming
out of the building and getting into their cars.

     He wished he knew exactly what it was he was supposed to do.  In
any kind of disaster, extra help was always needed, and his medical
knowledge would definitely be useful.  But Al had said that both Wayne
and his mother would be okay.  Was there someone in particular that he
had to save?  Until Ziggy came across something in the original
history, there was no way of Sam knowing just what wrong he had to put
right so he could leap out of here.

     Not that here was a particularly bad place, at least not today.
Sam frowned.  Growing up in Indiana, he had heard about the destructive
forces of tornadoes, and one farmer close to his dad's place had had a
barn blown over in a storm.  But Sam could not imagine half a town
being destroyed in one afternoon.  Twenty minutes?  Is that what Al had
said?  How many lives?  'Thirty,' Sam thought, 'Al said thirty people
were going to die in the tornado.  If I can save just one.'

     He shook his head and turned back to the way Al had pointed out
for him.  Smith Street was easy to find, but Sam was glad the different
apartments were well marked, all the small buildings looked alike.  He
found the one marked 101 and proceeded up the stairs to meet Wayne's
mother.

     The door opened to a modest living room containing a television, a
couch, and a couple of chairs.  Sam could hear and see an older woman
working in the kitchen area, he assumed it was Wayne's mother.

     "I'm home, Mom."  Sam put the bread on the small table.

     "Hi, you're a little early," Wayne's mom kissed Sam on the cheek.
"Anything wrong?"

     "No, just a little 'spring fever', as Walt calls it.  I was having
trouble concentrating on what I was doing, so he told me to go home."

     Mrs. Garber frowned.  "You didn't get in trouble, did you?  Wayne,
you know that scholarship isn't going to handle all the expenses of
college, and with medical school being so expensive, you need all the
extra cash you can get."  Her hands worridly wiped at the apron she was
wearing.

     Sam smiled.  Mrs. Garber reminded him of his mother.  "No, Mom,
everything is okay."

     "If you say so."  She turned back to the vegetables she had been
cutting up on the counter.  "Supper won't be for an hour or so."

     "Anything I can do to help?"

     Mrs. Garber turned to look at him again.  "Wayne Garber, are you
feeling okay this afternoon?  You never offer to help in the kitchen."

     Sam backed towards the kitchen doorway.  "Just kidding, Mom.  I'm
going to get something to drink and go out here and watch TV."  Sam
nervously opened the refrigerator door, grabbed a can of pop, and
retreated to the living room.

     He switched on the television and flipped through the channels.
There was the usual fair of afternoon talk shows and cartoons.  He
settled on Bugs Bunny, sat down in one of the chairs, then just let his
mind wander.  Sam sat up and took notice, however, when a news bulletin
interrupted the show.

     ".. Although none have been sighted, conditions are right for the
formation of thunderstorms and tornadoes.  We anticipate some
thunderstorms to roll through the Miami Valley later this evening and
tomorrow.  Stay tuned to channel..."

     Sam turned off the television and walked over to the window.  The
weather outside was still clear and sunny.  He tried to remember how
accurate weather forecasting was in the seventies, but couldn't
recall.  None of his scientific interests concerned meteorology,
anyway.

     "Mom," he said, turning toward the kitchen, "do you know what to
do if there's a tornado?"

     "Wayne, they've been calling for bad weather every day this week,
and so far it's just been sunny."  Mrs. Garber was busy putting dishes
on the table.

     "So far," Sam replied, "but just in case, what should you do?"

     "Well," she paused, hands on her hips, "I really don't know."

     "I think you should go to the center of the house, but on the
lowest floor."  Sam frowned, trying to remember what he had been told
when he was a boy.

     ""Anyway, supper is ready, so go wash up."  Mrs. Garber went back
to placing food on the table.