From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun, 23 Feb 1997 15:00 +0000 Subject: Looking-glass Limbo, part 3/10 LOOKING-GLASS LIMBO PART 3 'We could climb this road together, reaching out to touch the sun...' Adrian Snell: 'Windsong'. I don't think I shall ever forget the stunned look on Al's face when he met the new, feisty lady hologram.....but I'm getting ahead of myself here. I had spent a long time leaping around in time completely alone, with no guide to help me but my own conscience. There were times when I couldn't remember my own name, or the dear friend that I'd lost somewhere in time. Some kind faces helped me feel less alone, but on the whole it was like being a helpless bit of tumbleweed, never knowing who I'd be next, apart from the fact that it was going to be mental or physical torture every time. It was only the tiny brief respites in the place between the leaps that helped me hold on to my integrity. Some times it was a close run thing, like when I met a torturer that I now know is Thames, sent from Lothos and hell-bent on revenge. I sometimes wake up shaking when I remember how close he came to his objective. Then I recall that long, sweet, timeless healing in another part of the place between the leaps and the dreamless sleep that took the pain of the nightmare away. It seems to be a special part of null space, if my rescuer is correct. She appeared in the healing place just at the time when I was ready to move on. Viola's another, British, leaper, with the bluest eyes I can ever remember seeing. She appears to come from the year 2001 and her computer had detected anomalies that I'd left behind in the time-stream. I guess it must have all started when I gave the wrong answers on Tom Stratton's questionnaire. In any case, there are X files on me somewhere out there in the Pentagon. That would certainly explain how the evil leaper people found me. And how Viola found me too. I know Ziggy has some interesting ways of cutting through the crap, so it isn't too difficult to guess that Viola's hybrid Scherzo can do it too. It wasn't long before I met Viola's hologram as well - in a sense, though it wasn't too difficult to figure out that she was quite a character! About five foot five of red-haired Scottish dynamite with an accent that she could lay on extra thick just to confuse me. I couldn't believe that she was less than ten years younger than Al. Yes, I finally remembered him.....and I even got to hug him; but I'd leaped into his eldest daughter and he didn't know me. That was one of the saddest and most painful leaps; watching Viola trying so hard to save Beth's life and I was being slowly torn apart by Al's shock and grief. He'd got her back and had four beautiful daughters, then came the terrible accident that cut short their happiness. If I hadn't got him back, the Al I knew and loved, with the next leap, I don't know if I'd have been able to cope. He was still tempered by sadness, I could see it in his eyes.....then he saw red-haired Beatrice and suddenly, *there* was the old incorrigible Al, woken up out of his introspection by a woman he considered little short of perfect. What made it almost painfully funny was the way she pretended not to be able to hear him while he audibly appreciated her, then turned and gave him the best humorous put-down line *ever*. In a mile-thick Scottish accent, too. "I'm a hologram from 2001, and what's *your* excuse, pal?!" I couldn't contain myself, and neither could Viola. We laughed and giggled till our sides ached. Al just stood, completely at a loss with a woman for the first time in ages, which made it ten times worse for me. "I think, Al," I said, when I got my breath back,"You've finally met your match. This is Beatrice and her leaper, Viola." Al attempted to cover his confusion by lighting up one of his cigars. He almost carried it off. "I simply *hate* the smell of cigar smoke," Beatrice declared loftily. "Liar!" whispered Viola,"She's said to me on more than one occasion that she ranks it as an aphrodisiac alongside champagne and smoked salmon. Al's forthright appreciation has affected her more than she'll care to admit." "I don't see why it should bother *you*, Red," Al answered Beatrice, "I know perfectly well that you can't smell me....more's the pity. I've got my best after-shave on today." "Yes," she retorted, "All garlic and cheap Italian wine!" Al pointedly removed himself from Beatrice's vicinity without saying a word and came over towards us. I tried to be fierce with them, but laughter was still threatening me. "Look, you two. Please stop bickering like children and help Viola and me out with our leap. Viola has traced me in order to try to get me home and we all need to work together on this." Viola and I filled Al in without referring to the last leap or my time alone. As far as he knew at the moment, we'd never been apart. He obviously wasn't aware that I had saved his marriage with Beth. "Okay, Sam. Your *interesting* get-up should have told you that you're about to do Shakespeare. Again. Though not in the nude this time, you'll be glad to hear." Viola raised an elegant eyebrow. "Nude *Shakespeare*? King Lear, perhaps....'And with presented nakedness outface the winds and persecutions of the sky'....?" I felt myself beginning to blush, "Er, no....this was Hamlet and I don't want to talk about it." Viola coughed violently in a brave attempt to cover up her laughter. It was a sweet gesture, but I could see the twinkle in her eyes. Beatrice put in her customary punchline,"Lassie, can you see it now? 'O that this too too solid flesh would melt'...." Viola put her head in her hands in shame and muttered something inaudible. "Anyway," continued Al, trying to carry on as if nothing had happened,"*This* is a comedy, not a tragedy. 'Twelfth Night', to be precise, in the open air, in about two hours' time." Viola looked up in genuine pleasure. "We're doing *my* play? Please say that I get to play my namesake. I know all the speeches by heart!" Al and Beatrice nodded in unison, "What about Sam? Is he my long-lost brother, Sebastian?" "No, Viola," Al replied,"Ziggy says he's playing the Duke. You'd better get studying, kid." I nodded and picked up the book. My photographic memory has helped me on many occasions, and this was one of them. Viola sat with me when Al and Beatrice left us to get on rehearsing and gave me some useful pointers. "The Duke's in love with the idea of being in love at the beginning. He hears of this beautiful young bereaved woman and thinks, 'Yes, she's worthy of my devotion', but he wouldn't know love if it came up and said 'boo!' Then Viola comes along, disguised as a young man and he takes her on as his manservant and they become friends. Actually she falls for him, but she has to maintain her disguise. Towards the end her twin brother turns up, alive and well and really puts a spanner in the works by marrying the bereaved Olivia. Of course, the Duke and everyone else thinks it's Viola and she finally has to reveal her true identity. It's only then that the Duke realises that the friendship he has with Viola has gone much deeper than he'd realised. Apart from silly old Malvolio, everyone has a happy ending. It's all there in Shakespeare's words, you just have to make it come alive by imparting them with deeper meaning." Viola really seemed to know her stuff. "You won't mind pretending to fall for me?" Viola smiled politely. "*I* won't be falling for *you*. We have to be professional about this, otherwise the audience will not accept the drama. It's just like a leap, really. I'm Viola wearing the mask of the fictional heroine and you're Sam Beckett wearing the mask of the Duke." So we got ready for the performance. It was a lovely Summer's evening; the sun began to make it's way towards the west, and then a lone trumpeter sounded the beginning of the play. I took a deep breath and made my first entrance. The words rolled away from me; I tried to convey the impression of a rich man with nothing better to do with his time than pine away over Olivia. I went into the nearby trees to watch the other actors and actresses fill in the other part of the drama. The actress who played Olivia was lovely, all blond curls and brown eyes. You could see why any man might think he'd fallen for her. Viola, on the other hand, was a revelation. She lowered her voice a little and managed to convey a youth and a woman all at the same time. The scene where we laughed and joked with each other was easy, then when she was alone and revealed her feelings for the Duke, I could almost believe her. I started wondering if there was a lover or a husband back in England waiting impatiently for her to return. For that matter, I could be in the same situation, but Al would never be drawn on that subject. All too soon it was time for the final scene. Viola took off her wide-brimmed hat and loosened her hair as she revealed herself. I moved deliberately unsteadily over to her, trying to let everything from surprise to joy and humor out in the last pivotal speech. She looked into my eyes and for a moment I could have sworn there was something fleetingly significant in their depths. I took her hand and kissed it as part of a confirmation to the audience that something had happened between us, just like we'd rehearsed. Then came the last few moments of the play and it was all over. I was just trying to figure out if I should say something to her when the leap caught us. It was cold, biting wet cold and snow was falling all around me. It was also early in the morning. There was a garbage truck in front of me. I looked around for Viola. An unshaved man stamped and rubbed his hands together near me, then turned and gave me the strangest look. I reached out and patted him on the back in a friendly sort of way and was relieved when he turned into Viola. "Thank goodness," she said,"I was beginning to think that I was here on my own. I've been here about ten minutes or so already; Beatrice has been and gone. I've already put her on to obtaining better links between Scherzo and Ziggy. It should be closer next time." "Do you know where we are yet, and when? It's pretty obvious we're in the garbage disposal business." Viola smiled. "Actually, we're in England, Sam, so it's the dustbin men for us! Today is December 30th 1979. We're about to enter the eighties all over again." "Shouldn't the....er.....dustbin men be on holiday?" "There's just this last day's work, then we'll get a couple of days free before starting all over again. Apparently I'm driving, which is just as well, given the fact you're probably not used to driving on the left. I'm Harry and you're Mick. Beatrice says there's a good chance we're here to look out for something unusual in the post-Christmas rubbish which was overlooked before. Harry and Mick are brothers, by the way," Viola giggled,"Actually, Harry is five years older than Mick." I smiled at her and we carried on with our day. I sat beside Viola in the cab as she carefully swung the truck out into the early morning light. There was a list of streets we had to cover and a battered copy of an A to Z streetmap. I pulled it out. "We're in Bristol....." "Yes, I know. I'm not that far away from home. I'd be at home for the holidays from Cambridge right at this moment. Have you ever seen yourself in the past?" "Well, only in the mirror. I leaped into myself at sixteen and went home for Thanksgiving......that was rough. I tried so hard to change my family's lives for the better and only succeeded in making things worse." Viola nodded understandingly. "Yes, I know. I went back even further in my life. Grown-ups just don't listen to children of ten. I couldn't stop my mum's accident, no matter what I did." I could see the tears threatening in her eyes as we prepared to make the first collection. "Viola, I'm so sorry....I know what it's like," I put my hand on hers,"I lost my dad all over again too." Viola smiled with a mixture of sympathy and bravery. "Beatrice was my mother's nurse. If she hadn't been there for all of us, I don't know what we would have done. My dad asked her to marry him afterwards, but she declined politely. There was too big an age gap between them and she's always been something of a free spirit. I sometimes have my suspicions that they were lovers, but Beatrice has never spoken of it. Seeing your friend Al in grief will have awakened her nurse's instincts. She makes an invaluable contribution, not only to me, but to the project." "I could detect a caring heart under that fiery exterior. In that way, she's a lot like Al. He has hidden depths too," then I grinned, remembering their interchanges,"Do you think he'll ever get the last word with Beatrice?" Viola answered my grin with one of her own. "Well, if you promise not to tell.....it's just too delicious watching them sparring verbally with one another. If Beatrice starts letting Al get the last word in, she's definitely crumbling. And if she starts flirting, he'd better watch out, because that'll mean she's set her sights on him!" I chuckled heartily. "It's obvious he's got designs on *her*. I don't think I've ever seen Al chased by a woman. He'd be absurdly flattered....and he'd let himself get caught too!" Viola giggled as she set the crusher working and got out of the truck. "We've simply got to get them to meet properly at some time, then just sit back and watch the fun!" So we carried on with our work, emptying the cans more carefully than we otherwise might have done into the back of the truck. Luckily gritters had been out and the snow wasn't settling too much, so driving around the streets was a lot easier than it might have been. I was used to thick white drifts that could bury large stuff left outside till next Spring. This snow was softer and wetter and not designed to stay for more than a day or so. It was still cold, though. We had nearly reached the end of the route when I heard a noise apparently coming from one can outside a red-brick house. I stopped and cautiously opened the lid. Viola stepped over to investigate with me and Al turned up, passing through the hedge and the garden wall as he did so. "Sorry I took so long, Sam. Ziggy's sulking because Scherzo found you first. I've been on the phone to one of your colleagues, Viola; fortunately *not* Beatrice, and we're working on closer satellite and internet links between the two computers. Gushi and Tina haven't stopped since they came back from holiday!" Viola was gently and carefully sifting through the trash, when she gasped. "Oh, Sam, this is terrible! I can't understand what makes people do this sort of thing. Al, I'm sorry, but this is really awful." I looked down into the can. There, shivering and wet, were three tiny puppies. I instinctively picked them up as gently as I could and held them inside the jacket I was wearing. I quickly took in the number of the house and saw Viola do the same. "According to the map there's a vetinerary surgery nearby. These little guys need warmth and food soon, or they might not make it." "Yes, Sam. They can contact the R.S.P.C.A. and help find the puppies a decent home. I suppose they were an unwanted Christmas present. I can't believe how those bastards - sorry Sam - could do such a thing." Viola emptied the rest of the can quickly and we left the truck parked by the kerb. Luckily, the Vetinerary surgery was open and there was a small group of people waiting with their assorted sick or injured pets. The receptionist took one look at out helpless bundle and called the Vetinerarian straight out. By this time, those animals that were awake and alert had spotted Al and there was a rather loud chorus of howling, growling and spitting going on. The Vet seemed a little surprised, but when he saw the puppies, his compassion took over. We were bundled through ahead of the queue. The puppies got their first needs of food and warmth seen to, then he put them gently in a special heated cage to recover. Viola and I gave him the offending address and he took down the details. His gray head nodded in a businesslike manner. "You did well to spot the puppies. Much longer in that dustbin and they wouldn't have made it. And of course, if they'd gone in your lorry....." he trailed off and shook his head,"You did a good deed today, both of you. Well done!" We were both shaken warmly by the hand. At that moment Beatrice made her entrance. She made a point of ignoring Al, then she saw the puppies and her whole face softened. I saw Al's eyebrows go up in surprise. "Oh, the poor wee things. You'll be alright now, sweethearts," she turned around to Viola and me,"You've done what you came here for, hens. You can go and celebrate Hogmanay to your hearts' content." I started to wish that Beatrice came with subtitles, then my mind managed to translate what she meant. Al pulled a twig of mistletoe out of his pocket. Goodness knows where he had got it from; unless it was Christmas back home too. "Any chance of a New Year's kiss?" I snorted loudly, but managed to cover it by pretending to blow my nose. Beatrice kept her composure, but her eyes challenged Al. "You know perfectly well that you can't touch me and you'd be the *last* person I'd ever kiss, any time of year." Al sighed dramatically. "Shame, Red. You'll never know what your missing!" He exited dramatically. It was only when we were alone and back in the truck that Viola spoke. "Remember what I told you about Beatrice letting Al have the last word!" she chuckled heartily,"It's started already! Do you think that Al's noticed?" I grinned widely. "Oh, yes, Viola. He'll have noticed. Now he'll be figuring out *why* she let him win the verbal fireworks. I really thought he'd gone too far with that mistletoe stunt, though!" Viola's laughter joined with mine as we set about completing our route. We returned to Harry and Mick's shared house. The calendar on the wall revealed that they had dates for New Year's eve. We both went through the shower and came back into the kitchen to grab some food. I had found out that the two men were a little on the overweight side, brown haired and snub-nosed. Certainly not male model material, if the mirror and the photographs were anything to go by, but pleasant ordinary Joes. We sat on the couch in the lounge and put on the TV. Viola had found some bottles of beer and she poured them for us. "You'd better watch this stuff, Sam. Harry and Mick are real ale freaks and this is stronger than your average pint. Real ale began to gain wide popularity in the late 70's. Some of them had the *strangest* names. How does this strike you?" I sipped nervously. Well, it wasn't chilled, unfortunately and some of the flavors were foreign to my palate, but I could feel the rich quality to it. "Actually, this isn't half bad, I could almost grow to like it. I think I'd still vote for a nice chilled beer or lager though." I experienced the delights of television without ad breaks and some interesting slants on British tastes and sense of humor. "Viola, do you ever get lonely, leaping around in time?" "Sometimes, Sam. Especially when I lost Bea and went on leaping alone. That was really scary." I turned to her in surprise. "You lost your hologram *too* ?" Viola nodded. "So I knew how you were feeling. For me, it was summed up in some words I discovered. I don't know if I can remember them exactly, but they went something like this: 'I said to the man at the Gate of the Year, "Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown." And he replied,"Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be better than light and safer than a known way." So I went forth and finding the hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.'" "That's beautiful, Viola. I certainly went through a terrible time of darkness and confusion on my own. Perhaps there was a god watching somewhere." "I would say that in some profound way we don't understand, God or whoever was *in* our darkness, sharing the pain and laughter with us. It seems to be part of the redemptive purpose that the way is always darkest before the morning." "And this is *our* morning, now?" Viola's smile was warm. "Yes, Sam. We have our hologram partners back and you have a friend in me." At that moment, it hit me like a revelation. I was deeply attracted to her. I blinked hard, trying not to let it show too much. Hadn't Viola just used the word 'friend'? I turned towards her instinctively. Her eyes were wide and warm and dark. Her lips were parted ever so slightly. I paused, giving her time to draw away. "Happy New Year, Viola," I whispered. She moved a tiny bit closer and my heart started hammering inside me. My lips touched hers. I found a heady mix of softness and firmness for two, maybe three, seconds. Then we leaped. Damn, damn, damn! It had felt so *good*. It wasn't till later that I wondered how Harry and Mick were going to get out of *that* one. Ohhh, boy!!!