The Second Dimension

PROLOGUE

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives that ultimately shape them forever. Whether humorous or tragic, they tend to intercede our path when we least expect. Unfortunately, the ones that shape us so rapidly, the tragic, can befall us at any age, which for the young is a tragedy within itself. Not just because the young soul is so delicate but because at that age, we have little experience to foresee how precious some moments should have been. Richard was almost thirteen.

His eyelids flickered open to the morning pouring through his bedroom window. The sounds of birds, lawnmowers and other kids outside seeped into his ears. With one deep breath, he threw back the covers, leaped out of bed, and bounded across the floor towards the bathroom when he caught his lanky, nearly five-foot-four frame in the dresser mirror.

“You’re a handsome fella,” he cocked his head to one side.

Standing in nothing but his underwear and socks, he strutted back and forth, “are you ready for this?”

“Yea, you’re ready.”

Taking a batter’s pose in front of the mirror, he hunched over and began rocking back and forth, making fists to grip an imaginary bat.

“Bottom of the ninth, two out, bases loaded. Hamilton comes to bat. This is the one the crowd has been waiting for,” he announced, “the wind! The pitch! BAM!”

He swung mightily, looking into the distant corner of the ceiling as if the ball just sailed a thousand miles through the roof, “it’s gone! Home run! Home run!”

Making a roaring sound, like a thrilled crowd going wild, he trotted the imaginary bases. Today was the day. He just knew it. It was going to be a good weekend.

After a half an hour of doing his best Reggie Jackson impression, he showered, put on his baseball uniform and headed down the hall to the kitchen. He could only imagine on a perfect day like today, breakfast would consist of donuts and Count Chocula but regrettably, he knew that his mother would be serving her typical bowl of granola and whole wheat toast. To him, it was more like a bowl of rocks with a side of bark but he was hungry and he knew his Mom couldn’t help it. She had been convinced by all the other mothers of the seventies that somehow this was the natural choice and had caved to the pressure. Elizabeth’s intentions were good but his palette would have to suffer.

“Ricky, you ready for some breakfast, babe?” his mother asked, as he scooted himself up to the table.

“Yea, what do we have?”

“Well, we have granola and I can make you some toast if you like or I have some eggs.”

“Are they the brown eggs?” 

“Yes but they taste the same as the white ones.” 

“Then why don’t we just eat the white ones?”

“Because they are healthier,” she said abruptly as she poured a bowl of granola. “Here, eat this while I make your toast,” she cracked a sly smile from the corner of her mouth.

Elizabeth wasn’t too sure herself of the latest trends but living in the middle of the bay area, she went with the flow. Most families were the typical nucleus of hard working dads, moms with a new found liberty they didn’t know what to do with yet, and kids who hated the natural food craze. It was not a hippie life by any means. No free love, no mind expanding drugs, just natural foods and hot tubs made from giant half-barrels. It was the lifestyle at the time, at least in a California family’s mind.

“Hey Mom,” he said shyly.

“Yea?”

“Dude is leaving for the ballpark early and wanted to know if I could go with him so we could do a little batting practice before everyone gets there, would that be okay?”

“I don’t know honey, your dad and I were planning to take you.”

“Dude’s dad will be there and besides, I am almost thirteen.”

“I know…you’re right. It’s okay with me as long as it is okay with Dude’s dad.”

“Yea it’s okay. Thanks mom.”

Richard finished his bowl of quarry and toast and headed towards the garage to grab his gear. Ed was already there studying the lawn mower, wondering why the stupid thing wouldn’t start.

“Hi Dad.”

“Hey bud, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just grabbing my gear, I’m going to go early with Dude and his dad to the park. Is that okay?” 

“Yea, that’s fine. Do you want us to go early with you?”

“No that’s okay. I’ll see you at the park though, right?”

“Absolutely bud. Are we still on for fishing tomorrow?”

“Yea, of course!”

Richard loved going fishing with his father. It wasn’t even the fishing as much as it was the feeling of sitting there with his dad.

Ed was a hard working guy. He was a manager for Southern Pacific and was on call 24/7. When he wasn’t working, he was often surrounded by friends and though he didn’t mean to, he spanned his attention to everyone, not just Richard. Fishing gave them a chance to talk and joke in absolute solitude. In those moments, his dad was all his.

Richard grabbed his bag and ran out the driveway, “bye dad. See you in a little bit.”

“Okay bud,” Ed replied and then resumed his study of the stubborn Briggs and Stratton, “damn thing.”

Batting practice was not as successful as Richard had hoped. No screaming balls flying into the street. No covers coming off the ball. Yet, he was still determined to hit a home run. In his five years of little league he was still the weakest batter. The only thing that had gotten him this far was the fact that his skinny arm could sling a mean fastball but he wanted to be everything. He wanted to be a hitter.

Richard’s parents had secured seats in the fourth row while the Coaches tried to herd their teams into the dugouts. Vern Grossman paced in front of his troops, rehearsing the speech in his mind. It was the love of baseball that brought him here, not public speaking.

“Okay boys quiet down, quiet down. We have a challenge here today with these White Sox but the Giants don’t go down easy, right?”

“RIGHT!” 

“But I want to talk to you first about what makes a winner…I heard a story the other day at mass and I wanted to share it with you.”

Coach swiped his thinning hair beneath his cap as he geared up for his speech, “see the devil was getting ready to move his office and he was having a big sale, when a man walked into his store and said, ‘what are you selling here?’ And the devil said, ‘why everything is on sale! I have to move my shop. So I want to get rid of it, so I don’t have to move it. Then the man replied, ‘well what is your biggest seller?’ and the devil said, ‘discouragement’.”

He paused for effect, hoping it was catching their attention.

“‘Discouragement?’ the man asked and the devil said, ‘yes, because as soon as people get discouraged, all of my other weapons work’.”

Coach looked over the team hoping they understood.

“Now I don’t say that to you boys to save your souls…but I do want you to know that if you get discouraged in this game, you will lose focus and make mistakes. Don’t get discouraged. Believe in yourselves and do what you know you can do, alright? Now, let’s play some ball!”

“BREAK!” they all chanted, “GOOOO GIANTS!!”

Richard stared deep into the turf as he headed towards the mound, discouragement. With a new sense of destiny, Richard punched his fist into his glove. Do what you know you can do.

The game was hard fought and Richard had pitched a terrific game but had yet to get a hit and time was running out. It was the bottom of the seventh when the Sox led the Giants one to nothing.

Tommy Flood, a short, fiery kid Richard knew from school, had got a bloop hit which put him at first and Richard was up next. He figured if Tommy could get a hit, so could he. He burst off the deck as soon as he saw Tommy reach, when suddenly he heard Coach call him back.

“Ricky, Ricky, hang on son,” coach stood with his arms folded, staring out at the field, “alright Ricky, here is the deal…I want you to bunt.”

Richard was speechless.

Coach put his hand on Richard’s shoulder, “now I know that you want to hit but if you bunt Tommy can move up into scoring position. You got it?”

Richard couldn’t even look him in the eye. He knew that he should listen but his heart told him that he was better than a sacrifice. Yet he nodded in submission and headed to the plate, dragging his bat on the ground.

He looked over at Coach and then back into the stands towards his parents. With a heavy sigh, he stepped into the batter’s box and took his stance. The pitch would come, and he would square off to bunt, just as he was told.

As the ball whirled towards him, he dropped the head of the bat, ready to accept his fate. Both the first and third baseman ran up to intercept, but it was low and Richard pulled up.

“You had to know this guy would bunt,” the third baseman yelled.

Richard felt the blood rush to his face. He could hear the crowd and his teammates cheering. He was not going to let them or himself down. Damn it. He was going to do what he knew he could do.

As if in slow motion, the second pitch came. Richard could see the red stitches spinning through the air. He shifted his weight from his back foot to his front and kept his head straight, just as Dude showed him. The bat swung through the strike zone as the ball approached and then in an instant, he felt the ball connect with the fattest part of the bat and lurch off towards right field. 

Richard felt the air rush into his lungs as he watched the ball take flight, his hands stinging from the vibration. Everything around him went silent. All he could hear was the thumping of his pulse and the slightest whisper of “please.”

As the right fielder locked on the ball, Richard could feel his coach’s scorn stab through his backside but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the outfield. The ball began to spiral down to earth as the fielder centered himself underneath it and waited. With his back near the warning track, he opened his glove and then, in an instant of grace, it bounced off his glove and over the fence.

Richard felt his face break into an uncontrollable smile. Laughter began to bubble out of him as the crowd started to cheer. Richard looked back for his family. His eyes scanned the bleachers until he locked on to his mother. She was standing up, screaming wildly and clapping for his feat but his dad, no matter how much he looked, was nowhere to be seen.

Richard was awakened by Coach yelling, “WELL GO ON RUN THE BASES! RUN THE BASES!”

Stunned, Richard began to slowly trot around the diamond, devastated that he father wasn’t there. As he rounded first, he glanced out to right field where the drama had unfolded just seconds ago and there beyond the right field fence, a lone figure stood in the distance. He focused on it intently and then realized …it was his dad. He was smiling back at Richard and holding up a baseball in his hand.

The next morning, Richard found himself bouncing along half asleep in the cab of their old Dodge with the fishing boat in tow. Ed liked to start fishing before the sun came up and on any other morning that was fine. Except last night he was still so charged from the game that he couldn’t sleep and now the low rumble of the road lulled him to sleep.

An hour and a half later they arrived at Comanche, launched the Ranger Bass Master and headed out across the glassy lake. They spent most of the morning fishing from the boat in various parts of the lake and by midday, as the sun rose high, they landed on a bank to stretch their legs.

Richard started fishing on one side of the point while Ed tried the other. Then just as he had cast, his reel snarled into the biggest mess he had ever seen.

“Aw, man.”

His lure had made it out into the cove but as he looked down at his reel, his line was unexplainable. He crouched down on the shore with his pole across his legs and began to solve the puzzle of the unsightly tangle when he felt a sharp and sudden pull on his line.

Oh crap, I got a bite. His mind began racing as to whether he should try to set the hook or see if the fish would leave him alone long enough to get the mess out of his reel. He guessed from the hit, it was probably a good sized Bass.

He peered across the point, looking for his dad but there was no sign. The bank that he stood on was at the bottom of an incline that sloped up some twenty feet before it tapered off to the other and if his dad was far enough on the other bank, he may not even hear him yell for help.

He quickly turned his attention back to the knot. In a rush, he began to pull at the nightmare of fishing line, spreading it apart with his fingers, with the hope that some magical pull might instantly set it free and allow him to hook the fish.

BAM! His pole lurched off of his lap and fell to the sandy beach below.

“Uh oh,”

He looked out into the cove. In a panic, he began working again on the unsightly mess.

BAM, BAM, BAM! The line jerked and in an instant, his decision was made for him. The fish had taken the bait without him even trying while his fingers were still wound inside the knot. He felt the line tighten sharply around his hand, pulling him towards the water. With no alternative, he twisted the line around his palm, grabbed the pole with his bare hands and since he couldn’t reel it in, he ran up the bank with the rod over his shoulder like a G.I. charging Bunker Hill screaming, “DAD! HELP!”

When Richard got to the top of the ridge, he ran back towards the shore pulling on the line and spooling it to the ground until he reached the edge of the water, then wrapped the line into his palm and charged up the hill again. He was going to bring the fish in twenty-feet at a time if he had to, “DAD!”

Ed came around the point to see a Bass break the water and charge back down into the cove pulling his son with him.

“What the…?”

He ran towards Richard, grabbed the line and began to twirl it around his hands, pulling the fish in little by little until it flopped ashore.

“That’s a new way to catch a fish,” Ed chuckled as he cut Richard free.

“I didn’t know what to do but run uphill!”

Ed started laughing as he unwrapped the fishing line from his fingers, “good thinking son. Way to hang in there!”

Richard stared at the creases in his hands from where the fishing line used to be, “at that point it was going to either be me or the fish!”

As the afternoon approached, the heat began to beat heavily on the water and feeding time had come to a close. They fired up the Mercury and made their way back to the docks where an old soul, in a small wooden boat noticed them.

“So how’d you do?” the old timer asked, straightening the strap on his overalls.

Ed reached back into the cooler and pulled out a Big Mouth Bass by the lip, “not bad.”

“Whoa, that’s a nice one. Plastic worm?”

“Fingers mostly,” Ed chuckled.

“What’s that?”

They told their story laughing and cajoling with their new found friend and he seemed to take great pleasure in their tale. 

“Well that’s a new method! Reckon I’ll have to try that,” the fisherman joked, “here let me take your picture, I got one of those new Polaroid Instamatics.”

Ed and Richard got out and stood on the dock with Richard holding the Bass, leaning hard to one side to counter the weight. Richard had an eight pound fish and a picture to prove it. Little did he know, that picture would become his greatest treasure and not because of the fish.

“Mom, you’ll never guess what happened,” Richard exclaimed as his burst through the door.

“Oh lord your father fell in the water again, didn’t he?”

“Ha, ha,” Edward countered sarcastically as he brought up the rear.

“No mom, it was so cool!” Richard began telling his story in the exuberant fashion that only a twelve-year old could tell. Then he showed her the picture in his hand and started all over again.

“Oh my gosh, that’s crazy!” she smiled, “well then…let’s go cook some fish!”

After dinner, Richard extended his picture tour to Dude’s house and was in the process of expanding his tale when he heard the screen door open at his house next door.

“No, I’ll walk, I could use the exercise,” he heard as his dad came down the steps.

“Hey bud, I’m going to the store. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good,” Richard replied and quickly went back to telling his yarn.

“All right, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Richard never looked away from the picture in his hand.

As darkness approached, Elizabeth called Richard in, “where is your father?”

“I don’t know. He has been gone awhile, I guess.”

Elizabeth peered out the door in both directions. It wasn’t like Ed to be gone so long but she knew he occasionally got caught up in lively conversations with Mr. Vulcano at the market and she wouldn’t doubt that he was expressing his gift for gab. She closed the door, resolved that he would be back shortly and took her place on the couch in front of the T.V. next to Richard.

Seventeen minutes into the ‘Wonderful World of Disney’, there was a knock at the door.

Elizabeth thought it was strange for a Sunday night but lifted herself back off of the couch and headed to the entry. With the door opened just a crack, she peered through the narrow opening and instantly her heart began to pound.

Standing on the porch were two police officers and she didn’t know what to say.

She tried to remain calm, but her breath was growing shallow, her mouth could find no moisture, “y…yes?”

As if learning from each other’s cues, the officers tucked their hats under the arms and with a nod, one read off of his notepad.

“Ma'am, are you Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton?”

She could feel the tremors rise up under her skin, “yes…what is it?”

“Are you married to a Mr. Edward Hamilton, ma’am?”

There it was.

“Oh god,” her pulse started to rise with a thousand drums, “what….what has happened?”

The officer motioned towards the living room, “ma'am… may we come inside?”

Feeling somewhat dizzy, she stumbled back a step, “yes, please,” then regaining her footing ushered them in, “what is it? Is…is Ed alright?”

Not a word was spoken as they headed towards the living room. Her tremors began to show. The lead officer saw Richard sitting on the couch and then nodded at Elizabeth. She glanced over her shoulder and remembered her son. She gulped down the lump in her throat, “Richard honey, can you…can you go to your room for a moment?”

Richard became wide eyed, “but…”

“Please honey, just for a moment.”

Richard could feel the fear in his mother’s eyes. Slowly, he rose up and headed towards his room but not without looking back a hundred times.

He opened the door and closed it loud enough for the sound to carry to the living room while he stayed standing in the hallway, silent.

He heard the T.V. switch off and in the stillness of the room he could hear the officers ask his mom to sit down. They began asking questions: What was his dad doing? Where was he going? Had he had been drinking this evening? He could make out his mother answer each question briefly then follow with, “what has happened?”

Yes, Richard thought, what is happening?

With no other way to say it, the officer made a statement, “Ma'am, earlier this evening, your husband was struck by a vehicle at the corner of West Angela and Main.”

“Oh my god, is he…is he all right?” Elizabeth’s eyes darted between the officers looking for any sign, “where is he?”

The officers sat silent in what seemed to be an eternity. They looked at each other and then one said, “ma'am… I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said in a catatonic state, “no…no you’re wrong…” She rose up from her chair, shaking her head, “no.”

She forgot how to breathe. The room began to teeter. She stuck out her hand as if to grasp an invisible ledge. The officer grabbed her and guided her down just as her knees gave way. She folded on the couch into a huddled mass and slowly began to sob.

Richard didn’t understand.

Slowly, her sobs began to build. She wrapped herself in her own arms and began to rock back and forth as if battling a sickness inside her. Then as if in defiance to God, she leaped up from the couch and screamed like nothing Richard had ever heard before. 

“No! God Damn you! No!” The guttural roar lurched out of her body as tears cascaded down her face.

The officers stood up next to her and one reached for her elbow, but she jerked away and began to pace the room, wiping the mascara from her cheeks, “no!”

Like a warm rush of wind, Richard suddenly realized. He felt his face run flush. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. Leaning against the wall with one hand, he tried to catch his breath as his mind reeled. He said he would be right back. He didn’t know what to believe. He could not believe. He needed to see his father now!

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Richard shot down the hall, hitting the screen door as he busted through, sending the door flying from its hinges.

“Richard!” Elizabeth yelled but it was too late.

Richard ran faster than he ever had before down the street towards the corner market. In the darkness, he could barely make out the cracks in the sidewalk from the under the street lights but he didn’t care. Tears poured down his face and ran back underneath his chin as he flew across the pavement. He needed to see his dad.

It seemed like eternity before he reached the corner market ten blocks away. His heart pounded as he whirled around the sleepy corner looking for his father.

His chin was trembling, the tears continued to flow. With every second that passed, the fear grew stronger. His father was no where to be seen. He could feel the blood washing away from his skin. In his mind, nothing at this moment existed. He felt trapped in a distant corner of time and didn’t know how to get out.

Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway of the corner market and Richard spun around to see his face.

“Oh Ricky, I am so sorry,” the man said with a quiver, “he was just in my store and then ….and then I heard…..” his voice broke.

“Where is he, Mr. Vulcano? Where is he?”

“Oh Ricky, they have……they’ve…”

In that moment, a moment that Richard will never forget, he noticed Mr. Vulcano glance over his shoulder towards the curb.

There, just off of the sidewalk, in the glow of the market lights, was a dark stain of blood that Richard knew instantly, almost instinctively, was his father’s.

He shook his head, “no…he is not dead. He is not dead. Do you understand me? He is not dead!”

With his fists clinched, he yelled at Mr. Vulcano in a fit of rage, “Where is he?”

Mr. Vulcano didn’t know how to explain.

Then as if all of the air left him, he crumpled to the sidewalk, his face wet with tears, staring at the blood soaked street, “dad, you said you were coming right back! You said …”

There were no more words. Richard pulled his knees up, buried his face into his lap and sat on the sidewalk wailing.

He could hear footsteps rushing towards him and the jingle of a policeman’s belt as Elizabeth and the officers reached him.

Elizabeth knelt beside him, grabbed him up and held him tighter than she had ever held onto to anything in her life.

Richard was barely audible beneath the pain, cradled in his mother’s arms, “this can’t be happening mom. He said he would be back...”

“I know baby. I know,” was all she could say as she fought back her own emotions for Richard’s sake.

“If only I could have told him that I wanted something from the store… he wouldn’t have been here then Mom…”

His mother held him tighter with each trembling breath.

“If only I would have stopped him…why didn’t I say anything?”

“Sssh, honey, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault,” she said softly rocking him back and forth.

For what seemed like eternity, they sat on the cold concrete together, trembling next to where Ed once laid.

No matter how much he didn’t believe it or wanted to. It was true. Richard’s father was gone. 

***

“Ricky honey, are you hungry?” Elizabeth asked quietly leaning into his doorway.

“No thanks,” was all Richard could mutter from the edge of his bed.

The funeral was over and the house was filled with people coming and going but Richard wasn’t interested. He still could not believe what had happened.  Every time the door opened with a neighbor bringing food and condolences, he somehow expected it was his father coming home.

“Okay, babe, well…there is plenty out here if you get hungry,” she said solemnly as she backed out of his room. Richard stared at the floor of his sanctuary, brushing away an occasional tear. He didn’t know how he could have any tears left.

“Oh god, if only I could change all this.”

All he could think was this was all a bad dream. He took off his tie and dress shoes and headed down the hall to his parent’s bedroom. Somehow he thought he might find comfort there. Maybe the smell or touch of his father’s things might help.

On the dresser laid a funeral program. The cover read;

In Loving Memory

Of

Edward Alexander Hamilton

April 27, 1928 - Aug. 14, 1972

Aged 44 years

Taken from us in tragedy

but forever in our hearts

Richard sighed from underneath his heavy chest. Slowly he scanned across the dresser with his fingers and picked up his father’s pocket knife. He turned it over in his hand, held it for a moment then carefully put it back down from exactly where it once laid.

The emptiness of the room pressed on him. He felt like he could cry once again but his emotions were spent. Instead, all he could muster was to turn around towards the bed and let out another deep sigh.

On the chair next to the bed was still one of his dad’s ties. He ran his hands over it as if to feel his father one last time, then he wondered how long it would take for his mother to put it away. Perhaps she never would.

Beside the chair, he glanced at the night stand by his father’s side of the bed. Childhood memories of jumping on his father when he was still asleep swept past his mind.

On the nightstand were his father’s glasses turned upside down as if his father had just sat them there a moment ago but they were cold to the touch.

Beside the chilly frames was a Time magazine with Archie Bunker and Fred Sanford on the cover.  Richard picked up the magazine and gently opened it wondering what his dad was reading.

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he scanned the Table of Contents and saw a listing under the Education Section that drew his focus:

Science and Time Travel: Testing Einstein …….Page 104

“If only.”

He turned to page 104 and scanned the first couple lines. Then without looking up, he backed up into the edge of the bed, eased himself down and he began to read. 

CHAPTER ONE

Present Day

There are microscopic triggers that separate desperation from panic, fear from terror, but on this particular morning Teresa knew exactly where they laid. She didn’t know why he was chasing her but she knew she had to get away and she had no idea what he wanted.

She had just been minding her own business trying to get home after a long night at work. At first, she thought he was just another driver in too big of a hurry but this was different. He could have passed her.

True, it was only two lanes but there was little traffic at this early hour on this sleepy, country road. Yet, he kept tailgating her, never passing, and then when she stepped on the brakes he hit her, pushing her car into the ditch.

When it first happened, she thought it was just an accident. She saw him pull over across the street, perhaps to apologize, perhaps to see if she was okay. She had gotten out of her car to give him a ‘what for’ as he started across the street but there was something about the way he moved towards her that sent a chill down her spine. It was the way he treaded across the road so coldly, so methodical, so calculated without a single expression on his face. Then she saw the glint of metal from the gun in his hand.

The only thing she could think to do was run, run away from him and find safety. Behind her, she could see a footpath cutting across the open field. On instinct, she grabbed her purse and bolted for the dusty trail and ran as fast as her tired legs could carry her, but he didn’t chase her. He walked behind her, watching her every move, never letting her out of his sight.

Farther and farther she ran, worming her way up the hills, constantly looking over her shoulder. She could see her heart beating through her blouse now, the sweat was pouring down her sides but she couldn’t let up. He was still coming.

What did he want? She had never seen him before. Thinking he wanted to rob her, she grabbed her cell phone from her purse and threw the bag towards him along the trail. To her relief, he stopped and then with one hand picked up the purse but his gaze never left her.

In a flash, her senses began to ignite. He didn’t even look into her bag. The fear of him wanting more made her body begin to shake uncontrollably. Perhaps he would rape her and kill her. She had heard of men attacking middle aged women. Now she wondered why she ever took such a lonely road home.

“What do you want?”

He just looked at her.

In desperation, she screamed for help as loud as she could but her cries fell silently on the empty fields. She needed to gain distance. She needed to find help.

Looking ahead, all she could see were withering trees and grass against the silhouette of mount Diablo. She was heading into nowhere but she had no where else to turn. He blocked her way back towards the road, towards civilization, the road she should have stayed on.

Once she felt she had scrambled far enough down the dirt path she looked down at her phone. There were no bars. With trembling hands, she tried to dial 911 but there was no signal and he was coming. He was still moving towards her, slow and steady. He wasn’t trying to catch her…he was driving her.

Ahead she saw a place where the land had slid away from the field towards a drop off. She was out of breath and couldn’t go much farther. Approaching the edge, she thought perhaps she could duck away beneath the overhang and the stranger might pass her by but the moment she took her first step, she knew then, it was the last step towards her end.

Her feet began to slip beneath her among the gravel and loose dirt. She could see now that beyond, laid a drop off, but it was too late. She began to slide uncontrollably towards the edge and fell to one side. Turning her body back towards the top of the ridge, she sliding on her belly but her overweight state continued to pull her down.

“Ayúdeme Dios!”

She struck her hands into the earth to slow her descent and let the cell phone fly but it was no use. Her nails began to tear into the hardened sod to no avail. She felt her legs slide off the edge and hang into emptiness. Her heart pounded through her chest as panic overtook her. She clawed harder at the ground but she still continued towards the steep ravine. Her body slipped over the ridged edge as she scrambled with her hands to find any hold she could.

“AYUDEME DIOS!” she screamed choking on the dust, her hands finally grasping foundation. “HELP ME!”

Looking down beneath her, she saw her demise. Below the precarious ledge that she clung to, the earth fell away some two hundred feet. Beyond that she could see the next ledge father down that was sharp and steep, descending even deeper into the gorge. She tried to regain her composure. She gulped for air beneath her trembling sobs and snapped her head back up to the ledge. Grasping the ground with her nails buried into the earth, she tried to pull herself up but it was no use. She did not have the strength, her muscles quivering with strain and fright.  Then as a shadow broached the ridge above her, her mind turned only to images of Javier and her children. She could see her sweet Elena’s face, her youngest, so clear.

The figure moved towards her with gun in hand, carefully descending the slope. Her pulse raced as the form drew closer, striking panic into every nerve of her body. There was nowhere to go. There was nothing she could do.

“Please help me!” she cried in her broken English, “take whatever you want just please….please help me. I have…I have a family,” hoping to appeal to the killer’s conscience.

He stood above her staring down at her pathetic situation, the ominous shadow giving her the only relief from the sunrise. He stepped forward, looked deep into her eyes and then with one foot kicked her hand from its desperate grip.

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened and her body flailed as she fell away from him. The merciless shadow watched her eyes all the way down until she struck the first ridge, bounced off and continued her descent into the gorge.

Lifting the QSZ-92 luger, the killer returned it to safety and tucked it away into the small of his back. Calmly, he tossed her handbag off the ledge and then made his way back up the ridge. With one last look back, he smiled and then disappeared into the dry rolling hills. Step one was complete. The mission had begun.

CHAPTER TWO

To the passerby, nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary at Lawrence Livermore Labs. The fortification of cyclone fences and stone ramparts melded unnoticed into the encroaching neighborhoods. There were no alarms or security guards scrambling about, no terrorists stealing plutonium. Like a sleeping volcano, it had become just another part of the landscape. Yet on the second floor of the Physics building, an affliction grew worse, struggling for its last breath. A man was letting his dream die, a dream that had consumed since a child. 

“What are you doing?” Tom’s voice startled him from his thoughts.

Richard looked up from his desk, although he didn’t need to. He would have recognized that southern drawl anywhere, “nothing, just thinking.”

“You okay? You look a couple of quarts low.”

Richard smiled then shook his head as he reached across his desk to straighten an old wooden frame with a Polaroid picture in it, “just feeling down. I’m okay.”

“What’s going on? You want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m fine, probably just a midlife crisis.”

“Had myself those a few times,” he chuckled, “but hey it all works out.”

But it hadn’t. He had fallen short; Baronic matter, Deuterium, Silicone Carbide, none of them worked. Machos, Superblocks, Brownium motion, all failed for his purposes. He thought for sure, the last one would work. “Hey, what do you know about Francium?”

“Hell I don’t know anything Ricky. That’s why I’m in management!”

Richard couldn’t help but smile. Somehow that portly bastard could always get grin out of you. “Well, did you know the NIF goes on line tomorrow?”

“Boy, what a big to do, huh? Governor and everything’s going to be there, should be a hell of a show. You aim to go down there?” 

“I was thinking about it.”

“They’re fixing to name Jim Clark the head over there, always thought he was a hell of a good guy.”

“Really? They went with him huh? Well, he deserves it I guess.”

Tom stared at Richard, trying to see into his eyes, “what’s cooking in that head of yours?”

“Nothing.”

         “I think you’re cooking up something,” he smiled, “don’t go getting me in trouble again.”

“Who me?”

“Yea you!” Tom laughed, “Whelp, I better get back to it. I just wanted to check in on you,” he patted Richard on the shoulder, “Don’t let the blues get you, life can’t be all beer and Skittles.”

“I’m fine.”

Tom stopped short of the doorway, “Oh and Ricky, whatever you’re planning on with Francium, be careful. That stuff is as hot as all get out. Best to leave stuff like that to Oak Ridge, if you know what I mean.”

As the door closed, Richard returned to his thoughts.

Maybe it was best to leave things to someone else. Maybe he wasn’t the one but how do you say goodbye to a dream? How do you divorce yourself from that embrace that has held you all those years and how do you know when it’s the right time?

They tell you as a child that all things are possible, that you can do anything, you just have to believe. But what if you had believed and now you were grasping at the last fibers, feeling it slip from your very being with every minute that passed? Maybe it was time to give in. Maybe it was time to accept the mediocrity, life without a dream in mind.

It was not that he hadn’t been successful. He had made it through the ranks to become head of Physics. Anyone would look in from the outside and say that he had done very well. It wouldn’t be long before retirement was in view. He could just relax and accept the fact that some things are just never meant to be.

Yet, he had been so sure there was more. Surely, as long as time had existed, there were men who had let go of their hopes, ones they held so passionately, and still found a way to move on. They had accepted that they would never leave their mark, never change the world like they believed, just fade into obscurity, unwept, un-honored and unsung.

He drew a deep sigh.

Maybe there was one last chance. He took out his tattered notebook and beneath a long line of formulas, he underlined the word ‘Francium’ not once but twice. It was worth a try. It had everything he was looking for…but so did many others.

He glanced at the old Polaroid, “you wouldn’t let me give up would you?”

Shake it off.

For a moment, he felt that familiar flame burn again and latched on to it, “screw it…I’ll die trying.”

Without pause, he leaped from his chair and headed out of his office into the lab just as Katie was passing by, “Hey, have you seen Garrett?”

Katie turned around with a clipboard in her hand, the end of it pressing into her side. She was the epitome of a California girl in many ways. Her hair had been highlighted to blonde over her brunette color and her blue eyes struck you beyond her beautiful features. She had a slightly tanned and nearly flawless complexion that many young women her age sported and a seductive figure that was now covered with a lab coat going all the way to her knees.

“Um, yea I think he went over to Technical for a sec. What’s up?”

He peered around the lab, “nothing, I just wanted to talk to him about something.”

“Yea, okay. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before but whatever. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I’ll tell you later,” he replied as he began to scurry away.

“At the game?”

He stopped in his tracks as if he hit an invisible wall, “oh yea, right the game. Geez, I’m sorry Hon. I got a lot on my mind right now. Yes the game, we can talk at the game.”

“Oh my god, you are sick, you forgot about a Giants game! I am calling Mom right now.”

“Katie, behave,” he grinned, “now, I have to go find Garrett but I will meet you at the house no later than five I promise,” and he started again down the hall.

“You promise?”

Richard waved his hand in the air as he galloped away, “I promise.”

He spotted Garrett in a cubicle, hunched over one of the technical assistants, buried in conversation. Richard knew Garrett was knee deep trying to get help on making 3-D models but his inspiration wouldn’t wait.

“Pssst. Garrett. Garrett!”

Garrett turned around to see Richard waving him over to a giant plastic fern tree at the entry to the Technical offices. From anyone else this would have seemed as abnormal behavior but Garrett knew all too well the secrecy that Richard tried to hold onto with his private project. Resolved that he was being called again to duty, Garrett conceded, “I’ll be back in a sec, bro.” 

“What’s up Doc?” Garrett wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth doing his best Bugs Bunny impression.

“Garrett, you free tonight?”

“You know, you are really cutting into my HALO time doc. You’re lucky I don’t have a girlfriend right now.”

“Girlfriend? You had a girlfriend? When was this?”

“Um, yea didn’t you need my help or something?”

“Okay, okay, just kidding. So are you free tonight?”

Garrett stepped back and mockingly put one hand over his heart, “Dr. Hamilton, it would be my honor to accompany you on yet another journey into physics adventure. But seriously dude, gotta bring pizza or something cuz last time was way to long without some grub. I’m just saying.”

“Got it, we’ll order in, okay? I just really, really need to try this again, for my own piece of mind.”

Richard wanted to spill his latest idea to him but he was pressed for time. There were still a pile of papers and a list of tasks that he needed to accomplish and now with the reminder of the game tonight, it would have to wait.

“No prob Doc, always got your back. Don’t they say that the eight hundred and forty-ninth time is a charm?” 

“What, are you keeping count?”

“Only counts on the paycheck Doc, only on the paycheck.”

“Funny. Alright, figure ten-ish. I’ll text you.” and like that Richard was out of the fern and disappeared back down the hall. He was never one to give up before and he wasn’t going to let himself down now. Maybe, just maybe, his dream didn’t have to die today.



CHAPTER THREE

Richard’s Mercedes swung through the newer suburban neighborhood driving faster than any normal person should. It was already after five and he knew all too well what traffic into the city would be like.

For him, it was nothing new. Like a landscaper who has the worst yard or a maid’s house that was never clean, Richard’s obsession with time had blessed him, and his family for that matter, the inability to judge the most common of time keeping devices. 

He pulled up to see Katie and Mel’s cars in the driveway but they were nowhere in sight as usual. In fact, the stranger part was that he actually thought they might be waiting for him outside, ready to go. 

“Hello?” Richard bellowed into the house, “where are you guys?”

“Up here!” Melissa called from upstairs. 

He jogged up the stairway towards the voices, “what are you guys doing? We’ve got to get going if we are going to get through traffic.”

“Doing girl stuff Daddy, what do you think?” Katie popped in the doorway posing with her Giants tank tee, her hair in pig tails and her face painted with an ‘S’ on one cheek and an ‘F’ on the other.

“Nice, very nice.”

Mel burst around the corner in her pink Giant’s shirt, and eye black on her face, “we are ready, WHOOHOO!”

Richard couldn’t help but break into a huge laugh at these two.

Katie has just turned twenty-two and was becoming quite a woman on her own, even though she still lived at home, but Richard and Mel didn’t mind. She was finishing up school at Berkeley and doing an internship in his department, so he got to see her all the time and the arrangement made sense for a student. Plus to him, she was still his little girl who was growing up way to fast and he wanted to hang on to her as long as he could.

Richard and Melissa had just celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and Richard would swear that he loved her more now than when they were dating. Yes, there had been the stress and strains over the years, but together they overcame and made it through, which now made their bond tighter than ever before. He could swear he still felt his heart skip a beat when she brought out that beautiful smile of hers and sometimes he could still see that curly haired brunette from college that captured his attention so long ago.

“Hi honey.” He leaned over to give Mel a kiss.

She leaned into him with a smile on her lips, “hi baby.”

“You look great.”

“Why thank you.” Mel backed up and looked him over, “um, is that what you are wearing?”

“Yea dad, not much of a homage to your team!”

“Well I…”

Mel interrupted, “go on, go change. We will make it in plenty of time. Go get comfortable and put on your Giants shirt.” Mel pushed him towards the closet, “c’mon, we got some Dodger butt to kick, now go. C’mon Katie, let’s go dig up some snacks.”

“Alright…but we’re going to be late!”

In life you have to choose your battles wisely and no one knows that better than someone who has been married twenty-five years. Richard wanted to say ‘I told you so’ but he didn’t see much benefit in it. It had become a way of life and he was just as guilty for listening, so he knew it would be better to laugh at the fact that it was already the third inning by the time they reached the park.

“Sorry,” Mel admitted with a timid grin.

“Ah, it’s not your fault, it was the traffic. Although a bet is a bet and you owe me a beer,” he teased as they worked their way towards their seats.

“Alright…I’ll get you a beer,” she groaned and turned to go the other way.

“We’re heading to the seats. Meet you there.”

He could see her hand wave at him as she faded into the sea of baseball fans, “yea, if you’re lucky!”

The game went on with the usual cheers and boos. The Hamilton’s were found rising and sitting, rising and sitting, throughout the game’s events. Tempered with food and drinks, they talked while enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the ballpark.

Although Richard still loved the sport dearly, he found he was content with just being there with his family and since they were season ticket holders, it was more like a casual affair then intent on catching every movement on the field. The smell of the grass, the crack of the bat, and the sounds of vendors barking in the stands were enough for him to forget about work for a while.