Chapter 46
The only thing Sam could do with Ziggy’s prediction was to stick close to Richie. And so, he found himself at a large table eating a vegetable stew for lunch with a range of familiar faces; though, for the majority of them, he was unable to conjure up names from his Swiss cheese memory.
Brenda had joined them, and the twins sat on either side of her, their eyes unwavering as they watched Sam eat. When he met each of their eyes and smiled, they giggled.
“How come the girls can see Al for how he really is?” Alicia asked, as she watched the twins with great amusement.
“It’s an age thing,” Sam said. “Small children see the truth.”
“I’ve heard about that kinda thing,” Marsha mused. “That’s why little kids see ghosts so much more than adults. Some kinda latent psychic ability that gets filtered out as they age and become more set in their ways.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if it were simple truth.
“Something like that,” Sam said, knowing it was more related to the natural alpha brain waves of children, if he recalled correctly.
As Sam brought his spoon to his mouth, a familiar tune began to drift from a record player in the room. He looked up to Richie, who had put on ‘Ziggy Stardust’. He spun around from the turntable, grinning.
“They told me you played this your first night here,” he said as he returned to his seat. “Two years before it was released by Bowie. It’s always been a debate as to whether it was you seeing the future or you were just friends with Bowie and he’d played it for you before—and honestly? Neither would surprise me.”
Sam blushed as his gaze dropped to his meal. “I don’t know Bowie,” he said, implicitly confirming the alternate theory.
“Of course he sees the future, Richie,” Marsha said, shaking her head. “He knew about the drug raid, remember?”
Richie nodded. “Yeah, I know. And now he’s tellin’ me there’s a rematch on the way.”
“What do you mean?” asked Brenda, raising an eyebrow.
“Look, don’t ask me how I know,” Sam said, “but the police will be coming here—I don’t know exactly when, but soon—and Richie’s gonna get arrested for possession.”
“Except that I ain’t got any dope,” Richie said firmly, stabbing a piece of potato in his bowl with a fork.
Sam nodded. “Right. So, something fishy is going on. And we need to be vigilant.”
“Why can’t the damn pigs leave us the hell alone?” Alicia griped. “We’re probably the cleanest place in the county.”
“I just don’t know,” Marsha said, taking Alicia’s hand.
“Oh, am I going to see some more action between these two?” Al asked, popping into the room and looking lecherously down at the women. His leer was cut short, however, by the twin girls squealing as they spotted him. “Oh, jeez, I forgot they could see me too.” He turned to the girls, waving. “Hey kiddos. Don’t mind me. I’m here to help.”
“Are you Bingo?” said one of the twins—judging by the clothes, Sam surmised it to be Allison.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Al said. “Like the dog.”
Sam stifled a laugh as Brenda looked to the empty space at which the twins were staring. She turned an eye to Sam.
“What are they seeing this time?”
“Just my… friend in the mothership… broadcasting an image of himself across… uh, the galaxy.”
Brenda frowned, but accepted his claim. He supposed she’d had enough time to start to accept all the strange things happening around her.
“You know. Like dogs are known to do,” Al added for the benefit of the children, before turning to Sam. “Listen, I’m gonna go stand watch by the road and let you know when these bozos in blue are comin’.”
Sam nodded his approval of that plan, and with a tap of the handlink, Al blinked out of the room—to the eternal delight of Allison and Samantha.
* * *
Appearing by the roadside, Al took a long drag of his cigar and peered around the commune, which he was impressed to see had become quite developed. Of course, it was a bit more dull than it used to be, what with everyone keeping on the straight and narrow. But then, the things that happened in those tepees at night were probably still pretty steamy. If only he could stick around a little longer.
The sight of several vehicles coming over the horizon rocked him from his reverie, and he squinted, seeing a sheriff’s star on the hood of one of the cars.
“Showtime,” he muttered, before centring himself back on Sam in the dining hall.
The little girls let out another raucous squeal, and he wiggled his fingers at them.
“If only my ex-wives had been as happy to see me as you two are,” he said, chuckling, before turning to Sam. “They’re coming, Sam.”
Sam nodded solemnly. “How far away?”
Al pounded his fist on the handlink in an attempt to make it give up its information more readily. “ETA… uh, five minutes, based on their speed and distance.”
Sam turned to Richie. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. If—well, uh—if you’ve been holding out on us, now’s the time to admit to it.”
Richie’s face fell into a look of hurt. “I’m clean, alright? I swear to… to whatever you aliens call God.”
Sam took a moment to search Richie’s eyes, before nodding. “I believe you, Richie.” He looked up at Al. “I’ll stick to Richie, you watch the cops. Anything unusual, you sing out.”
“You bet,” Al said, tapping the ash from his cigar.
Sam turned back to his friends at the table. “Okay, I suggest we meet the cops outside when they get here. The more open the area, the less likely it is something fishy happens. Everyone keep your eyes peeled for funny business. I get the feeling someone has it in for Richie.”
With a collective nod, the team rose from their seats, and they all began filing out of the dining hall, while Al simply tapped a button and materialised back under the desert sun to watch them emerge.
After a few more minutes, the cruisers pulled into the parking lot, while Richie, Bobby, and Sam leaned against the side of the bus, watching.
Marsha, Brenda, Alicia, and the girls stood just off the paved area, and Al stood in the middle of the parking lot, keeping a close eye on the first car to pull up, which looked like the Sheriff’s cruiser.
A quick check of the handlink told him that the Sheriff was Wayne Kaufman—same as it had been in 1970. And his deputy was… oh boy.
“Sam…” Al said as the Sheriff and deputy emerged from the car. “Remember how Danny’s Daddy is the Sheriff of the county? Well, guess who he’s appointed deputy.”
Sam gave him a questioning look, before his eyes moved to the deputy in question.
It was Danny.
“Afternoon, folks,” Sheriff Kaufman said, tipping his hat without a shred of friendliness. “Seems we’ve had an anonymous tip that there might be illegal narcotics on this here ranch.”
“You got a warrant?” Marsha asked flatly. “If not, you can just move on, Sheriff.”
Police officers began to pour out of the other cruisers, as Danny took a few steps toward the twins, their faces reflected in his sunglasses.
“We’ve got a warrant to search one Richard Deleon,” he said, putting a fresh cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. He took a drag on it and looked Bobby and Richie up and down before removing it and pointing it towards Richie. “Guessin’ you’re him, going by the clothes. Am I right?”
Richie narrowed his eyes. “So you’re a pig now.”
Danny snorted. “You’d better watch your mouth, Richie. Cops tend to get a bit rough when you call ’em pigs. Don’t want me to accidentally hurt you, now do we?”
Al focused his gaze closely on Danny for any suspicious moves. It had to be him.
“Watch this nozzle, Sam. If he goes to frisk Richie, I betcha he’ll conveniently find something that wasn’t there before.”
“Why are you singling me out?” Richie demanded. “I ain’t done squat!”
“Well, you’ve been in prison,” Danny said, grinning. “It’s well known that criminals can’t help but re-offend.”
“I was in prison for draft dodging and you know it,” Richie said. “Not exactly a violent offender, now am I?”
“Well, I happen to know your history with drugs,” Danny retorted. “You got lucky that you didn’t get put away five years ago.”
“Luck had nothin’ to do with it,” Alicia added coolly. “And it was why you got kicked out of here. I’m sure you remember.”
“I do remember getting kicked out,” Danny snapped. “Out of my own damn home, after all I did for you people.”
“Settle down, son,” the Sheriff said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here to uphold the law, not get in petty disputes.”
Danny shrugged off his hand and moved up close to Richie. “Turn around, hands up against the bus.”
With a pleading glance at Sam, Richie did as commanded, and Danny moved in to frisk him. As he did, Al watched him surreptitiously pull a couple of dime bags from his pocket.
“He’s planting evidence, Sam! I caught him red-handed!”
Sam moved to grab at Danny, but the Sheriff stepped in the way.
“Now son, don’t you get in the way of police business.”
“But—”
“Oh, looky here,” Danny said, producing the drugs. “Cursory inspection looks like coke and cannabis.” He clicked his tongue. “Oh Richie, you’ve done it this time.”
“That ain’t mine and you know it!” Richie spat. “You corrupt piece of—”
“Well, I guess no star children are around to save you this time,” Danny commented with a smug grin. “Too bad.”
At this, Sam pushed aside the Sheriff and grabbed at Danny’s collar, slamming him against the bus.
“Guess again, Danny.” He balled his hand into a fist.
“Sam, no—!” Al cried out as the cops milling around all pulled their guns and pointed them at Sam.
Sam looked back at Al, realising his predicament. He loosened his grip on Danny’s shirt. “Any ideas?” he asked the hologram.
“Who are you talking to, Mike?” Danny asked, following Sam’s line of sight towards Al.
“The Great Gazoo,” Sam said drily. “You remember him, don’t you?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re claiming to be a star child now,” Danny said, smirking. “Kid, you’re smarter than that.”
Sam glanced at Al once again, a gleam in his eye that suggested he had an idea. He turned back to Danny, straightening the deputy’s collar and tapping him on the cheek.
“After all we’ve been through, Danny, I would have thought you’d recognise me. The PCP. The cigarette burn. Your little plan to get me put away. Did you ever get those sunglasses repaired? How long did the shiner take to fade?”
Danny laughed. “You expect me to believe you’re Al the spaceman? What, you’re in Mike’s body now?”
“I can be anybody,” Sam said plainly. “Anyone you meet. And I’ll always be here to foil your little plots, Danny.”
Danny’s bravado faltered slightly, but he wasn’t convinced.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, shaking his head. “This place has really screwed you up, Mikey.”
“This is a cute plan,” Al piped up, “but I’m not sure it’s gonna work, Sam…”
“I can be anybody,” Richie chimed in, apparently catching on to what Sam had been planning better than Al had.
“Anybody,” added Bobby.
“Anybody,” said Marsha.
“Anybody you meet,” said Alicia, grinning.
“Anybody!” the twin children said in unison.
“Anyone at all,” Brenda said.
This team effort succeeded in throwing Danny for a loop, and he looked around at the faces around him, visibly uncomfortable.
And then Al witnessed something that he hadn’t seen before. For a split second, the Imaging Chamber hologram winked out around him before resolving again.
To Al’s complete surprise, Sam was no longer standing in front of Danny—it was Mike, looking slightly perplexed.
“Sam?” Al said, spinning around in confusion. He’d leaped out of Mike, but how was Al seeing this scene without Sam there?
And then he stopped dead as he saw that Sam was now standing just to the side, wearing the Sheriff’s uniform. He looked down at himself, then met Al’s eye with surprise, before his lips curled into a sly grin, and he grabbed Danny’s shoulder.
“And I mean anybody,” he said, spinning the deputy around and snatching the baggies of drugs from his hand. “Even your father.”
Danny’s jaw dropped. “No…”
“Wow, Sam,” Al said, laughing. “Talk about ‘The Flow,’ huh?”
Sam leaned in to Danny’s ear. “You’re gonna leave Richie and this place alone from now on, aren’t you… son?”
“Y-yes, sir…” Danny said with a gulp. “…Touché, Al. Touché.”
Sam turned, holding out the bags of drugs to one of the other officers behind him. “Here, take this. We need to write up the Deputy Sheriff here for planting evidence. Better cuff him, too.”
The bewildered, wide-eyed officer nodded, taking the bags. “Yes, Sheriff.”
Another officer placed handcuffs on Danny, and escorted him away, as he watched Sam through narrow eyes.
Sam turned to Marsha, smiling. “I think this is goodbye,” he said, taking her hand.
Marsha nodded. “You saved us again, Al. Thank you. I’ll never forget you.”
In front of everyone, Marsha drew the man that all present—except Al and the children—saw as the sixty-year-old Sheriff Kaufman into a passionate kiss.
When she was done, she pulled away and Al was taken aback to see Richie be the next person to plant a kiss on Sam’s lips.
And then, blushing profusely, Sam leaped.
THE END