Chapter 42
The round kitchen table was crammed with occupants, with all six seats filled, and a spread of food in the centre. Sam A sat beside Marsha, and Sam B sat beside Brenda, with Mike and Alicia flanking each pair.
Al stood off to the side, watching the unlikely grouping all seeming to get along with one another. After seeing Brenda’s views on hippies and the war, he was impressed that they’d all managed to bring her around to accepting their help. It seemed Sam A had her pegged; she really just needed kindness and attention, and she was willing to accept it from anyone offering.
“So, about Moonstone Ranch…” Sam A piped up, looking with concern to Marsha. “You really think you’re gonna be kicked off the land?”
He glanced pointedly at Al, who took the hint, and queried the handlink.
Marsha sighed. “I mean, it seems inevitable now, don’t you think? With Danny out.”
“Oh, come on!” Alicia interjected. “Don’t forget The Flow, man! Al—uh, Richie—wouldn’t come to improve everything only for the universe to have us summarily kicked out of the place, now would he?”
Marsha quirked a smile. “Y-yeah. I guess I shouldn’t question The Flow after all that’s happened, should I?” She gave a pointed smile at Sam A.
“‘The… Flow?’” Sam B asked, head tilted.
“It’s a cosmic force, man. When we’re in need, The Flow brings us exactly what we’re looking for,” explained Alicia. “The Flow is why you showed up at the commune—” she gestured to Sam B, “—right when you were needed, ya dig? It’s what brought us here to help Brenda. It’s what broke that arm so you didn’t have to ship out. It’s all the right things happening at the right times. I just know that as long as we all ‘Go With The Flow,’ it’s gonna bring us a way to save the commune.”
“Oh no… so, ‘The Flow’ is a no-go—uh, bro,” Al cut in, reading from the handlink. “The land gets sold by Danny’s Papa, and they all get evicted in about six months. The land becomes…” he frowned, “…a failed date farm. Jeez.”
The Sams exchanged a glance. Al could see the wheels turning in their heads as their eyes narrowed.
“How much is the land worth?” Sam A asked, ostensibly to Marsha, but Al knew he was really asking Ziggy.
“Beats me,” Marsha said, shaking her head.
“It gets sold for five grand,” Al said. “Not exactly pocket change in 1970.”
The Sams both placed down their cutlery on their respective plates, and pushed out their chairs.
“Excuse us,” they said in perfect unison as they got up and headed for the living room. As Sam B passed Al, he gestured with his head for the Observer to follow.
Brenda watched them go, looking puzzled. “What are they…?”
“Oh, they’ve just gotta go commune with the mothership,” Marsha said casually, and raised a fork to her mouth as Brenda struggled to figure out what that meant.
Al passed through the wall to the Sams who awaited his entrance.
Sam A was the first to speak. “Al, what happens to the people at the commune after they’re kicked out? Mike, for example?” He gestured back to the kitchen.
Al punched at the handlink. “Mike… Mike who?”
Sam A thought a moment. “Frankston, I think.”
After a moment, Ziggy came back with the bad news. “Oh. He and his Mom become homeless, and she loses custody. He gets sent to his father… who proceeds to abuse him until he runs away in 1974. Ziggy has nothin’ on him after that.”
Sam B sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t be as easy as just making that damn statement and getting the hell out of here.”
Sam A nodded. “There’s no way we can let the commune get shut down. But where can we find five thousand dollars?”
“How much is Bobby’s house worth?” Sam B asked, glancing around the living room.
Al checked with Ziggy, and raised an eyebrow. “Twenty-six grand… they’ve paid off roughly forty percent of the mortgage so far.”
Both Sams gave Al the same look. As usual, they were way ahead of Al, even without verbally communicating with one another.
“Hang on a sec, you two,” he said, twirling his cigar, “You can’t just uproot Brenda and Bobby…”
“Sure we can,” Sam B said, smirking.
“Not in the next couple of hours you can’t. You still gotta go make that statement.”
The Sams looked at one another again.
“Leave it to us,” they said, once again in unison, before heading back to the kitchen and leaving Al feeling a little lost. He almost missed them arguing with each other.
It was mere seconds after the Sams had returned to the kitchen that the doorbell rang. A moment later, Brenda emerged from the kitchen and headed for the door with a curious expression.
She opened the door to reveal Jenny, holding up two bottles of wine and grinning.
“Hiya!” she said cheerfully. “Figured you’d want some company with Bobby gone, and—” she stopped abruptly when she saw Sam B coming up behind Brenda. “Bobby?”
“Bobby broke his arm,” Brenda explained, “so he’s gonna be staying a while longer.” She smiled back at Sam.
Sam B raised an eyebrow as he looked upon Brenda’s friend. “Whatcha doing with that wine, Jenny?”
Jenny lowered the wine bottles, looking like a deer in headlights. “Uh… nothing. I—I have to go.” She turned tail and scurried away.
Al wondered what the heck that reaction was all about, as Sam B placed a hand on Brenda’s shoulder.
“That woman is a bad influence,” he muttered.
Brenda heaved a sigh. “I guess she is…” she rested her head on his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel like I wanna just get away from this rut.”
“Me too,” Sam said, winking at Al. He led her back to the kitchen and let her go in while he hung back, turning back to Al. “Why don’t you go talk to Bobby? I think he owes Richie a favour.”
* * *
Al left the Imaging Chamber to find Verbena and Donna sitting on the floor against the wall of the Control Room. Donna looked about as emotionally wrung out as Al felt.
“Ladies,” he greeted them with a tip of his head. “Donna, you doin’ okay?”
Donna nodded, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah. I’ll be alright,” she assured him, despite her shaky voice. “It was just a lot to talk to him again. Even if he looked like somebody else. And it was only half of him.”
“Trust me, I know how you feel,” Al said, still feeling his heartbreak from seeing a remarried Beth. “Well, you might feel better to know that the Sams are not only getting along, they’re well on the way to leaping. Hopefully only a couple hours now, if we can figure out this last puzzle piece.”
“That’s great to hear,” Verbena said, and squeezed Donna’s hand. “It was all thanks to your visit,” she said with a smile.
“I still don’t know if it was a good idea to remind him of me,” Donna said with a frown.
“He needed it,” Verbena asserted. “That part of him needed reminding that there’s someone waiting for him. Someone who needs him safe.”
“I know…” Donna murmured. “I just hope that he can keep on doing what he has to do. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I hope he forgets me again.”
“I guess time will tell,” Al said, looking down at her with tired eyes. “Whether he remembers you or not, he loves the hell out of you. Just remember that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I gotta go see the twins. Take care, okay?”
Donna nodded, her face still sullen, as Al turned and headed for the Waiting Room.
* * *
As the group finished their meal, Sam B found himself acting strangely affectionate to Brenda, despite everything. It felt as though he and his counterpart had reached matching wavelengths, and as such he figured maybe the two of them were slowly beginning to regain access to the other’s traits and feelings.
Or maybe it was just the morphine.
Either way, he had Brenda’s hand entwined in his, and it felt nice. Sam A, however, was acting a little standoffish towards Marsha, who was nuzzling his neck as he leaned ever-so-slightly away from her, his cheeks flushed. Sam B idly wondered why he’d be acting that way, but chalked it up to it being his more prudish side coming out.
They locked eyes for a moment, and an unspoken prompt sent Sam A standing from his seat.
“That was a terrific dinner,” he said, grinning down at Alicia and Marsha. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s just something I have to take care of before I head to the police station.”
He disappeared from the kitchen, as Sam B began to rub Brenda’s shoulders. “I think things are gonna work out for us, Brenda,” he murmured into her ear. “As long as we’re a part of a caring community.”
“How do you know, Bobby?” she asked, turning and looking into his eyes.
“Call it The Flow,” he said, before kissing her on the nose.