Chapter 10

The light in the cabin had dimmed considerably when Sam opened his eyes and he guessed that he must have slept for at least a couple of hours.  He stretched out the kink in his neck from the odd position he’d been sleeping then looked over to Al who was still sleeping.  Unfortunately, it didn’t look like his sleep was that restful.

Sam could hear him muttering something incoherently and he was tossing his head back and forth.  Getting up from the chair, Sam lowered himself to sit on the edge of the sofa bed.  “Al,” he called while gently shaking his friend’s shoulder.  “Wake up, Al.  You’re dreaming.”

Al felt someone shaking him and his dream, set in the Vietcong MIA camp, turned it into one of his captors.  He reached his hand up to grab the man’s neck, intent on breaking it.  He’d just seen them taking Max Duncan away after they allowed him to die without treatment.  “No, Damn you!  NO!  You let him die, you bastards.”

Sam wasn’t prepared for Al’s strong reaction.  He tried to break the hold on his neck without hurting his friend.  “Let go, Al,” he begged in a strangled voice while clawing at the hand that was squeezing steadily tighter.

“You beg me for mercy that you wouldn’t give him?  What kind of monsters are you?” the dreaming man ground out.

“It’s Sam, Al,” the younger man tried once more to break through the nightmare gripping his friends.  When it didn’t work, he brought his hands up between Al’s arms and chopped at them to break the hold.  He stumbled back a few steps when he was released.  “Al?” he asked tentatively as he rubbed at his neck.  He kept a careful distance from the sofa and out of Al’s reach.

Al felt his hands pushed strongly way from ‘Charlie’s’ throat and then a sound broke though.  It sounded like Sam, but how could that be?  He’d never been in Vietnam.  “Sam?” he questioned hesitantly, still captured by the dream.

“Yeah, it’s Sam.”  He took a step closer to the sofa, careful to remain out of Al’s reach.  “You ok, Al?”

The sound of his friend’s voice pulled him away from the jungle and he realized he’d likely been dreaming.  He opened his eyes hesitantly, hoping that was true.  He saw Sam standing a bit away from him with concern in his eyes.  “It is you, Sam.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sam reassured still rubbing at his neck.  “I’m not even going to ask if you were having a bad dream.  It must have been one hell of a doozy, though.”

Al watched as Sam rubbed at his neck and recalled the dream.  He realized that in his dream he’d acted out.  That didn’t happen much but occasionally...the thought trailed off.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No.  You just startled me more than anything else.”  Sam dropped his hand from his throat.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Al shook his head.  “No, that hurt happened many years ago.”

Sam looked at Al quizzically not understanding what hurt he was talking about.  “No, I mean when I hit your arms to make you let go.”  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Al what he was referring to but cut off the words before he started to say them.  He doubted Al would be any more likely to tell him about it than he was to tell him anything else about his time in Vietnam...and he was sure that’s what the man had been dreaming about.

Al pursed his lips.  He had to have had his friend is quite a hold for him to use force to break him away.  “No, you didn’t hurt me, Kid.  I’m really sorry you had to do that though.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I probably shouldn’t have touched you.”  Sam started to back away.  “I’m just gonna go get some water.”  Al still looked like he was feeling the emotion from the dream and he wanted to give him time to come down from it without putting any pressure on him.  “I’ll be right back.”

Al nodded.  As the kid entered the kitchen, he rubbed his hand across his eyes.  Damn those nightmares.  He hadn’t dreamt about Max for years.  He pulled himself up and realized that it was time for another pill.  As he took one out of the bottle, he noted that he’d been through about two thirds of the bottle.  “Hey Sam, could I have a glass of water, please?”

Sam returned to the room with the glass of water.  “Here you go.”  He saw that Al had the bottle of painkillers in his hand.  “You still in a lot of pain?” he asked.

Al shrugged.  “Yeah.  You’re probably right; I shouldn’t have been up on it so much.”

Sam resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so’.  Instead, he settled for simply saying, “Well, stay off of it for the rest of the day.”  He grabbed one of the throw pillows from where they were piled and handed it to Al.  Put this under your leg.  You should have it elevated.  Maybe that’ll help.

Al nodded, knowing the kid had been trying to get him to do that consistently since he’d broken his leg.  “Ok.  You’re right.”  He was only feeling marginally better than he had before he’d taken the nap.  He figured the cold, lack of sleep, and now the nightmares were all conspiring against him just to make him feel bad.  Sighing, he looked up at Sam.  “I guess you’ll want to have our Christmas Eve Dinner?”

Sam blew out a breath and sat one the edge of the chair Al had been occupying earlier.  “I want to be home but since that doesn’t look likely.  And, yeah, we’re going to have to eat dinner eventually.  It’s still early, though, and I don’t think it’s gonna take a long time for a can of spaghetti to heat up.”

Al nodded.  “Yeah.  So, what do you want to do until dinner time?”

“I don’t know.”  Sam eyed the pile of games.  “How do you feel about Scrabble?”

Al nodded.  “Ok.  Sounds good.”

Sam grabbed the box with the game and settled down on the sofa bed.  He was careful not to jostle Al’s leg when he sat.  He opened the box and quickly scanned the contents.  It looked like all of the tiles were there.  “Just remember, ‘yummola’ is not a word,” he teased.

Al didn’t say anything, he just nodded.

“You’re going to agree with me?” Sam asked with a laugh.  “I at least thought you pick on the words I use.”

Al laughed a bit at that.  “Yeah, twinkly is off the list too.”

Sam finished flipping the tiles over so that the letter weren’t visible and put the box down where they could both reach it.  He handed Al one of the wooden trays to put the tiles on and kept one for himself.  “And...you need to take bazoombas or whatever that word you use is off the list too.”

“I can’t use bazoombas?”

“No, you can not use bazoombas.  Contrary to popular belief, it’s not in the dictionary.”  Sam reached into the box and turned a tile right side up.  “Z.  I think it’s a pretty good guess that you’re going to draw something that comes before that so you go first.”

Al and Sam took turns pulling tiles.  Al started the first word and laid it out.  “Foxily.”

Sam looked around for the block of paper.  There were still a few sheets left from Al’s snowflakes. “That’s 20,” he said coming back to the sofa after finding the paper.  “Good start.”  He looked carefully at the tiles he had before selecting three of them and laying them down.  “That’s six points for ‘lend’”

Al looked at the board and his tiles.  He placed them.  “Halberd.”

Sam wrote down the new score and looked critically at the tiles in front of him.  “Calf,” he said putting down the tiles.  “A grand total of nine.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say you rigged the tiles or something.”

“And how, pray tell, could I do that?” Al asked.  He had to admit, the kid had had more than his share of bad luck in games during this sojourn - first in Gin Rummy and now in Scrabble.

“I don’t know but if I know you, you could find a way.”

Al quickly put the next word down.  “Tits.”

“Aaaaallll.  You can’t use that.”

“Sure I can.  It’s in the dictionary.”

“No way,” Sam argued.  “That word’s not allowed.  Do something else”

“The word is in the dictionary,” Al insisted.  “Besides, I don’t see what you’re so bent out of shape about.  You grew up on a dairy farm.  What do you think they call what the milk came out of?”

“It’s an udder or a teat,” Sam shot back not backing down.  “Can’t you just come up with something that doesn’t have anything to do with your fixation of breasts?”

“Tit is another word for teat,” Al argued not willing to give in to Sam and his prudish mindset.  “Look it up.  It’s a perfectly good word, Sam.”

“Just what would you like me to look it up in?”  Sam made a show of looking all around the room.  “I don’t see a dictionary here, do you?”

“Yeah...well...you’ll have to trust me on this one then.”

“No,” Sam stated flatly.  “You can’t use it.  So take it off the board.”

Al’s eyes narrowed.  “Fine.”  He picked up the tiles before adding.  “I get that you’re a prude, Sam, but to remove a word that is in the dictionary as part of the English language, that’s just...”  He trailed off.

“I’m not a prude,” Sam stated firmly.  More softly he added, “Dad never let us use that.  He said it wasn’t polite.”

Al shook his head slightly at Sam’s statement.  “You know, Sam, as much as your father meant to you, he wasn’t always right.”  Al moved the letters so that the word ‘titi’ was placed.  “There.”  He paused and then added.  “And if you’re not a prude, then you sure act like one.”

Sam picked up his rack of tiles and moved to upend them into the box.  “I’m done.  This isn’t going to work.”

Al looked at Sam, with amazement.  “What did you do that for?”

“Because all we’re going to keep doing is argue and I don’t feel like it.  I don’t think this is a game for us to play.”  He let out a sigh and looked away from Al to the window.  “Maybe we’ve been stuck here together for too long.”

Al took a breath.  He opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as quickly.  It wouldn’t help matters to say anymore.  Finally he spoke.  “You might be right, but we don’t have much choice in the matter, kid.”

“I don’t want to be right.”  Sam knew he sounded petulant but didn’t care.  He was tired of being stuck in the cabin and what Al had said about his father really did hurt.  When he spoke again, he made an effort to not sound as grouchy as he had but his voice was still soft and conveyed his hurt.  “I wish you hadn’t said that about my Dad.  I know he wasn’t always right but he was my father and I respect him.”  He looked down not wanted to meet his friend’s eyes.  “He did his best with us.”

“I never said he didn’t, Kid.”  Al took another breath and reached across to lightly touch Sam’s shoulder so the man would look at him.  “You and your sister are evidence that he did a fine job of raising you.  I’m sure if I had met Tom, it would be the same with him.  All I was saying is that the word was in the dictionary.  If it wasn’t acceptable English, it wouldn’t be there.”

“Well, it wasn’t acceptable to Dad and it’s not acceptable to Mom...and do you want to argue with Mom.”  Sam pointed at the word that Al had put down.  “What is that anyway?”

Al noticed Sam’s change in direction but didn’t call attention to it.  Instead he stuck with answering the kid’s question hoping to draw him out of the funk he seemed to be slipping into.  “It’s a tree.  Grows in the southern US and has white flowers.”  He stopped for a moment and added, “And yes, if the word was in the dictionary I’d go toe to toe even with your mother.”

“Oh.  I guess I’ve never heard of it.”  Sam moved the tiles that Al had placed down and added up the score.  “That gives you more points than the other word did.  It’s eight points, the other one was only six.”  He looked hard at Al.  “Trust me; you do not want to go toe to toe with Mom.  You won’t come out of it alive.”

“The points aren’t the principle.  And I could hold my own with your mother.  I did when you were in the hospital.”

Sam looked at Al in surprise.  “You argued with my mother?!  And held your own?!  Mom must have been having a really off day.  None of us ever got away with that.  Dad didn’t even try to argue with her.”  He turned curious.  “Just what were you and Mom arguing about anyway?”

Al shrugged.  “You know, there was a time, Kid, when your mother didn’t think I was the best person for you to be around.”

“I know that but I thought the two of you straightened that out after, you know, the wedding.”

Al shook his head.  “When we first got out of the mountains and she met the chopper at the hospital, she pretty much felt that I was responsible for you being in as bad a shape as you were.”

“You?  Why would she think that?  If it hadn’t been for you, I probably wouldn’t have even been alive.”

“Your mother was scared, kid.  She was afraid she’d lose you.”  Al got quiet for a moment.  “It wasn’t until she realized that I kept my promises to you that she figured there might be more there.”

“Promises?” Sam asked, his brow furrowed.  “What promises?”

“Well, first, I’d left the ring with you so you’d know you wouldn’t be alone for long,” Al explained.  “Then, when I brought the book back instead of leaving you and her in the hospital, I think she accepted me as your friend.”

“You always keep your promises.  I can’t think of a time you ever made a promise to me that you didn’t keep.”  Sam looked at the ring that was now on Al’s hand.  “I don’t think I’d have stayed put as long as I had if you hadn’t left your ring with me.  I’d look at it and remind myself that you were coming back - that you’d promised me you’d be back.”

“Yeah, but your mother didn’t know that.”

“Mom’s always been a little over protective.  I still can’t believe you came out of an argument with her alive.”

“It’s all in how it’s presented, Sam.  Why do you think I can get you all that money for the project?”

Sam smiled and shook his head slightly.  “I haven’t been able to figure that out - and I don’t think I ever will.  I just trust that you can do it.”  He gestured at the game board between them.  “So, what should we do about this?”

“It’s up to you,” Al offered not wanting to put any pressure on his friend.  “If you want to keep playing, we keep playing.  If you feel it’s too difficult, we stop.”

“There’s really not much else we can do.”  Sam held up his empty tile rack.  “I think this is a problem, though.”

Al looked confused.  “Just pull seven new tiles.”

“But that’s not really fair,” Sam protested.  “What if I pull better letters than I had?”  He caught his lower lip between his teeth while he tried to find a solution to what he saw as a problem.  “You pick them,” he offered as a solution.

“Sam, this is a game,” Al sighed.  He couldn’t believe how seriously Sam was taking it.  “In the vast universe, it doesn’t matter if you get better letters this time.”

“Well, I just want to be fair, that’s all.  Don’t you think playing fair is a good idea?”

“Of course playing fair is a good idea,” Al agreed.  He couldn’t understand why Sam was going on about it as much as he was.  “At least most of the time.  Sometimes, though, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it matters to me,” Sam insisted.  “So you pick them.”

Al rolled his eyes.  “You know, sometimes you’re too much of a goody two shoes.”  He reached in and picked out seven new letters for the younger man.

“I am not and thank you.”  Sam took the letters Al had pulled out and arranged them on the tray.  He shifted their positions a few times while looking at the board.  Finally, he selected four of the letters and lay them down.  “Lanky.  That’s a total of 39 with the double letter score and triple word score.”

“Oh please, Kid.  I bet you pushed kids out of the way to help an old lady across the street in Elk Ridge.”

“There’s nothing wrong with helping someone across the street.”  Sam quickly added up the scores for both of them.  “That puts me ahead by two points he said in amazement.”

“Yeah...that was a good word.  See, I told you I was lucky.”

Sam added up the numbers on the paper again coming up with the same totals.  “I really am winning.”  He looked up to Al in confusion.  “What do you mean you’re lucky?”

Al grinned.  “I mean, Kid, that I pulled your letters.  I’m lucky and it just passed onto you.”  He paused.  “Now if you’d pulled your own letters, it may have been different.”

“So, do you want me to put them back and draw my own letters?” Sam asked still confused as to what Al was getting at.

Al shook his head.  “No, Sam.  That’s not what I want.  You asked me to pull the letters and I did.  If you get the benefit of my luck, all the better for you.”

“Oh.  Ok.”  Sam looked at Al oddly still not quite understanding what he was getting at but not willing to push it.  “I guess it’s your turn.”

Al looked hard at his letters and then the board.  The ends of his lips lifted as he put down the next word without a sound.  ‘Quanta.’

“Quanta, huh?” Sam asked with a smile.  “Good one.”  He quickly added the points.  “That’s seventeen.”  He looked between the letters in front of him and the board before finally picking out his letters and laying them down.  “Rabid.  That’s nine and with double word score, it’s 18.”

“Time,” announced Al as he placed the word against the ‘e’ in shed.

Sam didn’t make a comment this time, just raised his eyebrows, and counted the score.  “With the double word score, that’s twelve.”  He made note of the score on the paper.  He selected three letters from those in front of him and laid them on the board spelling out ‘quiz’.  “That would be 32 points.”

Al took his tiles quickly and placed ‘eaten’ up against quanta.  He looked over at the board.  “Five points.”  He paused.  “Wait!  It’s a double word score.  Ten points, Sam.”

Sam jotted the number down on the paper then quickly grabbed tiles from his rack.  Since he’d drawn his replacement tiles, he’d been hoping Al would not put anything in the space he was eyeing.  “Yearn,” he said as he put his tiles down.  “With a triple word score, that’s 27.”  He eyed the column of numbers adding them up.  “That gives you a grand total of 102 and I have a total of 157.”  This time instead of being shocked at the score, a grin appeared.

“Looks like that luck is holding, Sam.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.  I really can’t remember the last time I won playing Scrabble.”

Al smiled.  “Well then, it’s about time.  Maybe fate is smiling on you.”

As Sam opened his mouth to respond, the window rattled as a particularly strong gust of wind blew.  He looked over to the window then got up to look out it.  “You don’t suppose another storm is going to come, do you?” he asked.  They sky looked clear and he didn’t see any threatening storm clouds but, then again, there really hadn’t been any that far in advance of the storm that had come through.

Al shrugged.  “I hope not.”  He put down three letters.  ‘Ing’ making Yearn, Yearning.  “Triple word score, kid.”

Sam didn’t seem to hear what Al said regarding the game.  He kept looking out the window watching the sky.  “Maybe I should go out and see what I can find in those other cabins just in case.  If it is another storm, we’ll be stuck here longer and we’ll need more supplies. 

Al looked over to Sam and knew the kid would just spend the rest of the evening worried.  “Ok, Sam.  You’ve rested most of the day.  If you want to check the other cabins, that’s fine.  I just don’t want you pushing it, ok?

Hearing Al’s assent, Sam immediately started to put on his coat.  “I’m just going to check to see if there’s anything useful in them.  How much could I really push?”  He noticed the game board still in front of Al and moved to grab it.  “I’ll get this out of the way.  We can finish playing it later.”

Al was going to protest, but gave in.  “Ok.”

Sam finished dressing for the outside and found the crowbar he’d been using.  “I shouldn’t be long,” he said before going to the door.  “I should be back before the sun starts to set.”  He looked over to where Al was still sitting on the couch.  “You stay put there until I get back.  You need to be resting too between your leg and catching my cold.”

Al nodded.  “Ok, Sam, but I think I’m going to have to move a little.  Call of nature and all.”

“Well, for that only,” Sam agreed.  He vaguely remembered having similar exchanges with Al in the past except he was the one being forbidden from getting up.  He realized that, not that he wished anything on his friend; it felt better to be on this end of things.  Hefting the crowbar, he pulled open the door and was hit with a blast of cold air.  Stepping out, he made sure the door was closed behind him so that none of their heat would escape.

He quickly crossed the space to the next closest cabin that he hadn’t explored and broke the lock on the door.  He was disappointed when he entered it.  Unlike the cabin he and Al were in and the other two that he’d explored, this one was bare.  There was no food and no wood.  All he found were a few more blankets.  They had quite a few already but if they ran out of wood, they’d come in handy.

Leaving that cabin, he went to the one thatwas next to it.  The lock on that one proved to be a little stronger than the other and he had to struggle with it more until it finally broke.  He pushed the door open hoping he’d find more they could use here.

There was a small stack of wood against the fireplace and he moved it over to the door.  It wasn’t much, but it would add to what they already had.  Searching the kitchen, he found a few more cans of food - mostly soup and vegetables.  It was better than nothing.

When he checked the lone bedroom, he saw that there were still clothes in the dresser drawers.  Though most of it was woman’s clothes, there were a few sweatshirts that looked like they’d fit him and Al.  He piled those up on the bed and pulled the pillowcase from one of the pillows.  It would make a good sack to carry the cans of food.

Once he’d bagged the food, he grabbed it, the clothes, and blankets and brought them back to the cabin he and Al were using.  He’d have to get the wood on a second trip.

“I’m back,” he called out when he got back to the cabin.  “Al?” he questioned when he didn’t see the man on the couch.  He dropped the food and clothing on the floor and went over to the back bedroom.  “You in there?” he asked knocking at the door.

“Yeah, Kid.  I’m just finishing.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Ok.”  Sam started to walk away from the door but turned back.  “You’re all right, aren’t you?  You don’t need any help getting back out, do you?”

“No Kid, I’m fine.”

“Ok.  I just need to make one more trip to get some wood I found but I’m going to wait until you get out here.”  Sam walked away from the door and over to the fire.  Kneeling in front of it, he pulled off his gloves and held out his hands to warm up.  Al would, most likely, be just fine if he left but he just felt better waiting.

After Sam had left the cabin, Al got up to go to the facilities.  Although he wasn’t feeling anything, his leg was feeling tighter in the cast than before.  He worked his way over and took care of business.  Afterwards he sat on the bed and pulled the leg of his pants down a little.  The leg was looking swollen.  He figured it was being on it as much as he had.  He took a deep breath trying to decide what to do.

As he sat there, Sam knocked on the door asking if he were ok.  He really didn’t want to tell him about his leg right now.  The kid had been keyed up enough the last couple of days and he finally looked like he was calming down.  Al decided he didn’t want to do anything that would upset the younger man anymore.  Besides, he reasoned, it was just a little swelling.  That was expected with a break.

He waited a bit to see if Sam would leave to finish his cabin search.  When he didn’t, he got back up and fixed his clothes.  Pasting a pleasant look on his face, he hobbled back out.  “So what did you find, Sam?

“Not much,” the younger man replied rising to his feet.  “Those two were pretty much cleaned out.”  He pointed to where he’d left the food and clothing he’d found.  “Besides a few more cans of food, some clothes that should fit us, and a few more blankets; the only other thing I found was some wood - and not much of it.  I’m going to go back out now to get it and move it in here.”

“Ok, Sam.  You do that.”  Al just hoped Sam wouldn’t notice his concern.

“You sure everything’s ok,” Sam questioned.  After all the time Al had spent trying to keep him in the cabin, it almost seemed like the man was trying to get rid of him now.  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Why wouldn’t I tell you things, Sam,” Al questioned, an open look on his face.

“Because,” Sam started to enumerate, “You don’t want to worry me; you think if you ignore it, it’ll go away; you don’t want to make a big deal out of something; you think you have to tough it out...should I keep going?  Let’s face it, that’s all the reasons I wouldn’t tell you something.”

“Sam, if there was something I thought you should know, I’d tell you,” Al said, hurt in his voice.

“Ok, Al,” Sam gave in although his suspicions weren’t completely quelled.  “Just remember, you promised you’d tell me if anything was wrong and you never break your promises.  You don’t want to start now, do you?”

“It’s nothing, Sam.  Just should have listened to you.”

“There’s a first.  You want to tell me what that means, though?”

“I just mean, I shouldn’t have done as much on my leg.  I’ll be good from now on.”

Sam looked at Al through narrowed eyes trying to gauge just what it was the man could potentially be hiding.  He really wasn’t buying what Al was telling him but didn’t think it was likely he’d get a straight answer from him - now.  He would get it out of him eventually, though.  “You do that,” he agreed.  He pulled his gloves back on and gave his friend one more searching look.  “I’m going to go get that wood now.  I should be able to do it in one trip.”

“Ok, Kid.  I’ll just read a little more,” Al said, picking up the book again.

Nodding, Sam pulled the door open and left.  He hurried back to the cabin where the wood was not eager to be out in the cold any longer than necessary.  The wind had a biting chill to it and his fingers, nose, and toes were starting to ache with the cold.  Better to get back in where it was warm as quickly as possible than to risk frostbite - again.

He gathered up the wood.  He was right; it would only take one trip.  Looking around he checked to see if there was anything he missed but there wasn’t.  He hurried back through the cold to the cabin.

He added the meager supply of wood he found to what was already piled up in the cabin.  “I hope they get those plows out this way soon.  This is all the wood there is and it feels like it’s gotten colder.”  He peeled his gloves off and again held his hands to the fire to warm them.

Al had to agree.  “Well, it’s been a few days...I’d imagine it won’t be much longer.

“I hope so.”  Sam got up and started to strip out of his coat.  Once he’d piled it along with his hat, gloves, and scarf on the chair, he crouched down in front of the fire again in an effort to warm up.  “I can’t remember ever being out in cold like this.”

“Colorado in the mountains gets like that, Kid.”

“I guess,” Sam agreed.  He got up from his crouch in front of the fire and retrieved the book he’d been reading earlier.  “I think it’s still too early for dinner, how about you?” he asked as he went back over to the mattress and stretched out on his side to read.

“I’m ok.  You want to finish the game or hold that off ‘til later?”

“I’d rather hold off on that right now, if you don’t mind.  I think I’ll just lie here and read for a while.”  Sam opened the book to the page he’d left off at.  “Besides,” he added, “it’s warmer over here.”

Al nodded.  They read in companionable silence for a while.  The only sounds in the cabin were the crackling of the fireplace, the pages turning in the books and the occasional rattle of the window when the wind blew.  Eventually Sam flipped the book over and looked over to where Al was sitting.  He’d been wondering about something for a while and now seemed as good a time as any finally to broach it.  “Al?” he asked tentatively.

Al put the book down.  “Yeah?”

“I’ve sort of been wondering...”  His voice trailed off as he rethought what he was going to say.  “Never mind.  It’s not important.”

“No, Sam.  What’s on your mind?”

Sam shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on the mattress, his back to the fire.  “I guess I’ve just wondered why you spent all the time you did with me when I was in the hospital earlier this year.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate it but...well...you really did go above and beyond the call of duty.  You didn’t have to, but you did.”  He realized how bizarre his question must have sounded to his friend and quickly looked away.

Al took a deep breath.  “You know I was married five times.”

Sam nodded.  “Yeah, I know.  What’s that got to do with it?”

“Well,” Al began to explain, “despite being married all those times I never had any children, and I kind of miss that.  You fill that hole for me.”

“You mean, I’m like the son you never had?” Sam asked to clarify.

“Yeah.  Something like that,” Al answered.

“Um, ok.”  Sam wasn’t sure how he felt about this.  On the one hand, he found it a little strange that his best friend looked on him as the son he never had but on the other, it felt comforting to know there was someone who felt that way about him.  Deciding if Al could share that with him, he could also share, he quietly said, “I guess you fill in some places that were left when Dad died, and Tom.”

“That is an honor, kid.”  Al paused.  “Don’t get me wrong, I know that it’s not exactly that.  I mean, there are parts of our friendship that are more just buddies too.  Ah hell, this is getting well...”

“Mushy?” Sam replied with a smile.  “Seriously, Al, I really do appreciate everything you did for me.  A lot of it’s pretty fuzzy and there are things I don’t really remember but I do remember there was always someone there that made me feel safe.  Sometimes it was just your voice but I knew if I heard it, everything was going to be ok.”  He looked down embarrassed by what he’d admitted.  “This is getting really mushy.”

“Yeah.  Let’s just leave it as maybe both of us were destined to be friends or something.  You know, sort of fill in the holes.”

“That sounds good.”  Sam flipped the book over and started reading again.  He didn’t get far when he looked up at Al again.  “I don’t remember much from the hospital Al but I do remember some of the things I told you.  If you ever do tell Katie about that streaking incident when I was at M.I.T., I will have to kill you.  Just remember, I have black belts in several martial arts.  I can do it and then I’ll just hide the body.”

Al had picked up his book as well and was surprised at Sam’s statement.  “Yeah, but you’d never do that, Sam.  You’re just not the killer type.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut.  “God, I hope not,” he finally said.  “I don’t know if I could forgive myself if I ever had to.”

“Well, it’s unlikely to ever happen, Kid.  You just don’t travel in circles where that type of thing happens.”

A silent nod was Sam’s only response before he went back to his book.  Again, the only sound heard from either of the two men was the turning of pages.
 

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