From: kitkin@aol.com (Kitkin)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative
Subject: WHATEVER IT TAKES 5/9
Date: 10 Jun 1996 22:21:46 -0400
Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364)
Message-Id: <4pil7q$55m@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

WHATEVER IT TAKES PART 5

   He had LEAPED this morning!! The idea still stunned him. He
couldn't just tap a sequence of colored cubes, and walk back
into reality....This was now reality. Shaking his head in an
attempt to clear away these distracting and very disturbing
thoughts, Al slipped the hand-link back into his pocket, and
began again to take in his surroundings.
   As he walked up the sidewalk toward what appeared to be
down town, he noticed an antique car at the curb. "Wow, now
that's a cherry restoration!." Al said admiringly as he ran his
hand over the car's fender.
   "Pardon me, but do you mind?"
Al turned with a start, and saw a man dressed in a dark suit
carrying what appeared to be an old black leather satchel.
Realizing that he was blocking the driver side door, Al stepped to
the side."Uh, sorry I was in the way. I guess I just got a little
carried away admiring your car. It's a what, 1934, ' 35?" Pausing
a moment to take a look at the interior, as the man opened the
door and seated himself behind the wheel, Al continued," Boy,
you sure put some money and time into this baby." It was then
that Al noticed the peculiar expression on the driver's face.
   "1930 to be presice," he said as he slammed the car's door,
and started the engine. "and although I may be a doctor sir, I
can no more afford a brand new automobile than anyone else
can right now, much less speculate on next year's models." With
a last look of annoyed bewilderment and a perfunctory doff of his
hat, the man pulled the car away from the curb and down the
street.
     "Next year's model? What the...." but before Al could finish
his train of thought, he saw just up the street, a hanging neon
sign that read,"DUQUESNE BEER" Walking up to stand
underneath it, Al now turned to face the establishment to which
the advertisement referred. There, stensiled on the window, was
"AL'S PLACE"
   "Bingo!" said Al, with a look of satisfaction, "This is the place."
The screen door squawked in it's hinges, as he entered the
strange, yet vaguely familiar bar. The interior had a comfortable
feel to it, and if Al had looked through the window before coming
in, he might have thought the place closed, for there wasn't a
single patron in the bar.
   Standing off to the side near the door, he slowly took inventory
the room. It had a bar of course, and in back of it, a large mirror
with stacks of glassware lined up on a shelf in front of it.  There
were tables and chairs grouped more or less in the center of the
room. Near Al, was the front window and door, several old
photos in frames hanging on the adjacent wall, along with a large
cabinet filled with mementos. Also in this wall, was another door,
that probably lead to a supply room, and now he had come back
to the bar.
   Walking over, but avoiding looking in the mirror, he sat on one
of the barstools. With his eyes closed, he turned toward the
mirror.  Half expecting to see a totally unknown face looking
back at him, he slowly peeked open an eyelid.  "Whew. Nothin'
new there." he mumbled to himself, with a sigh of relief. On the
shelf of glasses behind the bar, he now noticed an old brass
cash register and a few odd assorted trophies. Along the side of
the mirror were more photos ,and some newspaper clippings
that had been tacked up haphazardly.
     Then he saw it. Hanging next to a prominently displayed
article about the establishment of the 21st amendment, a
calendar. There was a picture of a quiet country lane, with the
month of June just underneath it. But Al's gaze was focused on
the date: 1934. His mind raced at the sight of it, as a bit of
conversation replayed itself in his head,...."It's a what, 1934, '
35?,.......a brand new automobile..... much less speculate on
next year's models." Finally, he saw that numbers 1 through 14
were x'ed off. Today was June 15, 1934. "Oh God." Al said
aloud while still staring at the calendar.
   "Can I help you?"
If Al had jumped when the owner of the car had come up behind
him, it was nothing compared to his surprise now. A breif,
startled "AHHHH!" was all that came out, as he whipped around
on the stool to see a stocky man with dark hair and small
moustache coming out of the door that was off to the side. Al's
earlier speculation about the door was correct, for the man
carried a beer keg on one of his broad shoulders.
   Chuckling softly as he set the keg down behind the bar, he
said,  "Well, you startled me too. I thought I'd be closing up early
tonight." As he talked, he installed the tap into the new keg."Ya'
know, I'd have thought with the repeal of the ol' 18th,"he said as
he indicated the prominently displayed clipping Al had seen
earlier, " that I'd be a whole lot busier." When he had finished his
task, he wiped his hands on his apron, and leaning across the
bar asked," What'll it be?" Al, who was now standing a good two
feet from the bar, and still somewhat dazed, replied shakily, "Uh,
I uh just need some water right now."  As the bartender put ice
and water into the glass, he looked with uncertainty at Al. " Is
there something else I can do for you?, I mean you still seem a
little shaken".
   Maybe it was Al's slightly twisted sence of humor, or perhaps it
was merely his way of neutralizing the hysteria that was
threatening to engulf him, but what occured to him to say next,
was, "Yeah, and if I don't move from this spot, I'll be shaken, not
stirred."  he laughed nervously, "Hey, that's a pretty good one,
considering we're in a bar."  His eyes still held a hint of his
sanity's tenuous thread, as he nearly drained the glass in one
continuous guzzle. The bartender laughed at Al's reply, but it
was clear by his puzzled expression, that he didn't get the joke.
He just seemed to enjoy this peculiar patron's company.
   Busying himself with wiping and stacking more glasses, he
said, " 'Course it's more than just a bar." Upon hearing this, Al,
having fully recovered, now regarded the man through squinted
eyes. This was his patented ' I'm wise to you, pal' expression,
and he asked with a rather suspicious tone, "Like what exactly?"
   Not looking up from his work, the bartender said, " Oh, you
know, psychiatist's office, confessional, ...."
    "Waiting room maybe?" Al enterupted with the same tone as
before. Now, the bartender did look up at Al, and with a
strangely calm and completely serious face, answered,"Yep,
even a waiting room."
     Slapping his hand on the bar, Al jumped to his feet. Then
pointing an accusing finger at the bartender's face, he shouted,
"AH HA!!" like a trial lawyer who has just made a point in his
clients favor. Returning to his busy work, the bartender
said,"Yeah, many an expectant father has bided his time here,
instead of up at All Saints Memorial."
   Al's jaw snapped shut with an audible ' clap ' sound, his
accusing finger still thrust in the air. Slowly, as he lowered his
finger, he also began to narrow his eyes again, and quietly
regarded the bartender once more. Putting his thoughts on the
back burner for the time being, Al asked, "Where's the john?"
Pointing to the door he had brought the keg from, the bartender
said, "Through there, down the hall, second door."
    As Al headed across the room, he mumbled an almost
inaudible"Thanks." Before he got to the door however, the
bartender asked, "Can I get you something else?" as he held up
Al's glass. Al weighed this question for a brief moment, then
answered, "Yeah, this time, make it a beer....what ever's on tap."
The bartender nodded his confirmation of the order, and Al
disappeared through the door.
   When he came back out, the bartender was engaged in a
conversation with someone on the telephone. The phone must
have been under the counter somewhere, because Al would
have noticed that one right off the bat, when he had first looked
around. It was one of those old candlestick models, black with
the bell shaped mouth piece, and separate bell shaped earpiece
that was attached with a black cord. The bartender was laughing
as he talked, a laugh that reminded Al of his father, back during
the good times. Even if he found the bartender himself a bit
enigmatic, he did like his laugh.
    Al sat back down at the bar and picked up his beer. It had
been a long time since he had had anything with alcohol in it,
and briefly wondered if he should now. "Aw, what the hell." he
said, and sipped at it. With a look of utter perplexity, he held the
glass up and looked at it. He sniffed at the deep gold colored
liquid. Once again, his eyes drew to narrow slits. His mouth
twisted to the side, as he studied first the glass, then the
bartender, then back to the glass. When the bartender finally
hung up the phone and returned it to it's hidden place under the
counter, Al spoke."What gives? This is apple-cider!"
   "What's a' matter? Don't you like apple-cider?" The bartender
asked.
 Al looked to the side as if turning towards someone sitting next
to him, and made a face like,"Do you believe this guy?" Then
turning back to look at the bartender, he said,"It's not what I
asked for."
   The bartender looked curiously at Al and said, "It's not?"
Sarcastically Al replied,"C'mon, it's not like you're exactly
SWAMPED with customers y' know. After all, you managed to
get my order right the first time, so like I said, what gives?"
   Shrugging, and with a low chuckle, the bartender said, "O.K.
Al, you got me."
"AL?!! YOU KNOW MY NAME?" Al remarked with astonishment.
Leaning an elbow on the bar, the big man looked earnestly into
Al's eyes, and with a trace of a smile said, "Does that really
surprise you?" Barely perseptibly, Al shook his head as his eyes
stayed locked on those of the bartender.
   "In answer to you question though, of what gives," the
bartender continued, "It's like this: Sometimes, you get what you
want. Sometimes, what you want, isn't what you need. And
sometimes....Sometimes, what you really need, is what you get."
He then gave a gesture that implied, "That's all there is to it."
Noticing that the patron was not grasping the full meaning, he
went on.  "You wanted water, you got it. But you take this for
instance," he said as he lifted the glass of apple-cider."you didn't
really NEED a beer, did you?" Al remained silent, as the
bartender's tone had taken on a quality he remembered from his
second, no, third? wife, when she was trying to hint that he had
had enough to drink.
   As he stood upright once more, the bartender said, "Now when
Sam asked for a beer",  pausing,  then, softly chuckling again,
he amended," a few, come to think of it, that's exactly what he
got." He moved from in back of the bar to take a stool next to Al.
Putting his hand on Al's shoulder, he once again met the other
man's wary eyes, and said,  "But then, Sam didn't have your
problem, did he Al?"
   If anyone else had done that to him, Al would have been
tempted to deck him. But looking into this man's eyes was like
looking into a mirror, maybe a mirror to his soul, and all he could
do was avert his eyes in mute admission. Giving Al's shoulder a
gentle shake, the bartender said,"It happens sometimes Al.
When enough things go wrong in a person's life, the effects start
showing up somewhere, in some form.
   "A man's gotta learn to deal with the lousy hand he gets dealt."
Al said gruffly as he shrugged the man's hand from his shoulder
and got up from the stool. With his hands thrust into his pockets,
he began to walk around the room, pretending to be interested in
one thing or another. He finally stopped at the front window, and
as he gazed out at the night sky, he reached into his inside coat
pocket and took out a cigar. Not looking away from the window,
he held the cigar up and asked,"You mind?"
   "Nope, I don't mind." the bartender answered, and Al was
surprised to find that he was standing right in back of him. "Need
a light?" The bartender held out a matchbook. Al accepted it
without comment, and lit his cigar.
.......................CONTINUED IN PART 6........................