Recycled Dreams

A Starman Story

By: Yvette Jessen

Copyright  © 1998 Not intended to Infringe on any previously held copyrights.

The Harrisburg, Michigan ice rink was filled to capacity.  The city's annual figure skating competition was in full swing. Two local sports reporters and a photographer were mingling with the crowd waiting for the competition to begin.  The skaters were separated by their genders for the final competition in the Novice division.  12-year-old Stephanie Zimmerman stood next to her mother, Teresa, and waited for the final four skaters in the group of 16 to be called.  She was one of the favorites to win in the 'Ladies event', but after struggling in practice for the entire week with a triple toe loop, and touching the ice on it during the short program, she was now in second place behind a 13 year old named Patty Fischer.

Now was the time for her three-minute program.  She had selected music from her favorite musical, MY FAIR LADY, and now it was the moment of truth.  Her black and white skating outfit resembled the dress Audrey Hepburn wore in the movie, and it had a thin flowing skirt.   She wore her blond hair in a tight bun and the make-up she wore made her look much older than she actually was.  In five minutes the four skaters in the final group would take to the ice for their final warm-up.

Once the announcers voice was heard, the 100 or so people began to cheer.  It was time for Stephanie to take her six-minute warm-up.  She took off her jacket and handed it to her mother who followed her doggedly towards the ice.

She glided out onto the ice, and began to warm up.  The three other girls were also there, and she wondered if they were thinking the same things she was.   She was nervous, but not really about the competition, but about making a mistake which would send her mother into another tirade.

Ever since she was 5 and began to skate, one of her coaches made the mistake of telling her mother that if she worked hard enough, she could one day compete at the senior's level in a national competition.  Now, she skated more for the satisfaction of her mother than for her own.  She simply wanted to have friends and do the things other pre-teen girls did.  This other girl, Patty Fischer, was the only friend she had, and her contact with the other girl was strictly monitored and controlled by her mother because two girls were supposed to be rivals. 

Stephanie began to practice her footwork during the warm-up. She usually didn't do any triple jumps then, but waited until she would present her program to the judges.  She used the time to get used to the feeling of the ice beneath her feet.  Once upon a time, she had enjoyed the feeling of competing, but now she despised it, and didn't really care if she won or lost.  All she cared about was giving a performance that wouldn't anger her mother.

Patty whizzed by Stephanie, "Good luck, Stephy," she called out. 

Stephanie nodded and smiled, "You too, Patty."  Here was a girl, who remained kind towards her regardless of the rivalry between them.  It didn't even matter who the better skater was. Stephanie really envied Patty for other reasons, mainly because Patty had the freedom to be herself, and not be the molded ice princess that she felt like she had to be.

When Stephanie finally turned around, she saw her mother standing along the railing of the rink.  She was scowling at her daughter, and Stephanie's brief smile disappeared.  She sighed deeply as the announcer informed them that there would be only one minute left in the warm-up.  When she looked back over towards her mother, she executed a perfect triple toe loop, which had been shaky all week in practice.  This brought a small smile to her mother's face, but after a second, it disappeared.

The crowd cheered and Stephanie skated over to where her coach, Jake McCall was standing against the railing.  He smiled assuredly at her, but what she noticed was about three feet behind her coach, there was a teenage boy leaning against the railing, and he was smiling at her.  She blushed self-consciously and attempted to concentrate on the words of her coach, but her eyes again fell on the movements of the stranger who had smiled at her. He must be someone special because he was hanging around the 'kiss and cry' area.  Not that that was anything major, she thought, the local rink had simply roped off a section near the concession stand for the skaters to sit as their marks were being read. 

"What's wrong Stephy?"  Jake was asking, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

She shook her head, "I don't know, I guess my mom's mad at me for speaking to Patty.  But, Jake, she wished me luck, and I only returned the sentiment.  I don't understand why my mother doesn't like Patty, she's nice."

"Concentrate on your skating, OK."  Jake said to the girl, but he could see that her thoughts were about 1,000 miles away.  He could see the troubled look in her eyes, and knew that there was something wrong with her.  Instead of focusing on the problems she was having, he smiled reassuringly at her.  "Try to block out those other things."

"Skaters please clear the ice!"  The voice of the announcer brought Stephanie back down to earth and she looked up at the kind green eyes of her coach. 

"Listen, Stephy, you're first, and that's the best position to be in.  If you want to win, you have to concentrate, but above winning, you should have fun skating.  Of all the things I have tried to teach you, enjoying yourself is the most important." Jake squeezed the arm of the girl, and watched as she skated to the center of the ring.  Her three-minute presentation was about to begin, and for better or worse, this was it.

"On the ice, Stephanie Zimmerman!"  This was her indication to move into position so that she could begin her routine.

The people in the stands began to cheer, but when she looked out at the crowd, she suddenly felt like a dot on a snowy mountain, and rather than feeling important, she felt insignificant and alone.   She got into her starting position and waited for the music to start.

Once it began, she closed her eyes, and tried to remember the time when she really enjoyed figure skating.   When she opened her eyes a second later, she began to skate. 

Teresa Zimmerman approached Jake as Stephanie executed her first jump, a triple Salchow.  The people politely applauded when she landed the jump successfully.

When the applause died down, Teresa spoke to her daughter's coach. "What do you think you're doing allowing Stephanie to talk to her rivals?"  Teresa's voice sounded about as cold and chilling as the ice, which Stephanie was skating on.

"I didn't see anything wrong with her wishing Patty luck," Jake said. "Stephy is a 12 year old girl, and most of the girls I've coached have been friends with each other.  It's important for these girls to have friends even if they are competing against one another.  Not to mention, with her heavy training schedule, there isn't time for her to meet other teenagers and if they become friends with others in the sport, then they share something in common."

"Mr. McCall, I didn't hire you to be philosophical, I hired you to train my daughter to be a good skater.  I don't like it that she talks to Patty Fischer when she is supposed to be skating against her today.  And as her coach, I think you should at least be concerned about it."  Teresa's voice became even icier, and she ended the exchange by diverting her attention back onto the ice as her daughter executed a double Lutz. 

Jake said nothing.  He believed that Stephanie's only hope to become a successful skater would be for her to have a coach who wasn't an arrogant snob like her mother.  He had seen too many skaters have breakdowns because the parents tried to live out their own dreams through them and he didn't want to see that happen with Stephanie.

He refrained from answering Teresa's accusations with any facts.  The woman was just impossible to deal with.  If it had been any other girl but Stephanie, he'd have quit his job as her coach a long time ago.

He turned away from Teresa to see Stephanie finish her routine with a flying camel spin.  He smiled broadly as she stood in the center of the rink and took her bows.  A number of spectators tossed flowers onto the ice and Stephanie grabbed a bouquet that had slid over next to her feet.  She waved the flowers at the audience.

Once off the ice, she headed towards the 'kiss and cry' area where she would be getting the rest of the flowers, which had been collected, and receive her marks for the performance.  She glanced over and saw the young man again, as well as an older man holding a camera. 

Once in the designated area, she sat down in the chair between her mother and her coach and waited for her scores to come up. As everyone guessed, she received fairly high marks for the performance and was now in first place.  The man with the camera took a couple of pictures of Stephanie after her scores were read.  Once the scores were out, Teresa Zimmerman ushered her daughter quickly out of the area and behind a large curtain, which separated the rink from the lobby, which extended into a hallway, which would lead outside.

Stephanie looked back in the direction where she had seen the teenage boy, but instead of making eye contact with the boy, her gaze came to rest on the soft blue eyes of the man holding the camera.

o O o

Paul Forrester was still holding his camera as the young skater left through the thick curtain.  His attention diverted back to the ice where another skater was about to begin her program.  He returned quickly to the railing, followed by his teenage son, Scott.   The two of them began to watch as Patty Fischer began her long program.

"How long do we have to stay here?"  Scott asked, his feet beginning to tire from standing around.  "I need to find a place where I can sit down."

"Why don't you go into the hallway behind that curtain?  I saw some benches there when we came in."  Paul offered.  "I have to be here for at least another two hours." 

Scott groaned,  "I don't think I like hanging around here, Dad.  It's not that the skaters are nasty, but some of these other people are.  Did you see that woman who was sitting with Stephanie Zimmerman?  Her eyes could have burnt holes through solid concrete."

Paul nodded, "Yes, I noticed, but aren't you exaggerating a little?"

"Maybe, but you saw her too, right?"  Scott asked.  "Wouldn't you say she reminded you of Snow White's evil step-mother?"

"Snow White?"  Paul looked away from the events on the ice, to stare bewildered at his son.

"It's a fairy tale, Dad," Scott began,  "the step-mother tried to kill her because she was more beautiful.  It really has nothing to do with this, I'm just saying that the woman looked pretty mean, that's all."

Paul sighed,  "I saw her."  He took five or six photos of Patty as she skated her routine and one more as she executed her last jump, a triple toe loop.  When she came to stop and the music ended, the crowd in the stands began applauding once again.  Patty smiled gracefully at them, and bowed.   Once the cheers died down, Paul made a suggestion, "Why don't you go and get some nachos or something to eat, and I'll meet you outside by the car when the competition is over?"

Scott nodded as Patty was skating towards the railing.  "I think I just want to sit down for now.  I'll be on one of those benches you mentioned, OK?"

"OK, you know where I'll be."  Paul said as Scott left behind the same curtain that he had seen Stephanie and the other two people exit.

As he made his way down the hall, his mind began to drift.  He had never seen figure skating before, except on television, and he really had never considered that a girl who was only two years younger than himself would be out there executing such complicating jumps.  He never could tell the difference between those jumps, but he could tell that they must be very difficult. He sat down on one of the benches and watched as steady groups of people passed by him.  After a few minutes he heard a voice break into his thoughts.

"Hi."

He looked up and saw the girl who was addressing him.   He finally found his voice and returned her greeting.  "Hi." he paused, "you're Stephanie Zimmerman!  I saw you skate, you were awesome!"

She giggled and nodded.  "Thanks.  I saw you when I was talking to my coach.  You're with the photographer, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm with my Dad.  He's taking pictures of the competition, but I'm not really sure exactly who hired him.  But, I think you know about these kind of things, though."  Scott said.

"Not really, but my coach said that there might be some press people here today."  She shrugged her shoulders.  "It's not so common for the press to come to this event.  I've never seen any of them here until today."

Scott shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know very much about figure skating, I must admit, I only know about what I've seen on TV."

"The Seniors, yeah, they're really good," Stephanie said softly. 

"Seniors?"  Scott looked at her.

"Seniors are the ones that compete in the Olympics, then there are juniors, Novice and Pre-Novice.  Patty and I are in the Novice division."  Stephanie explained. 

"This is like levels?" Scott asked.

Stephanie nodded, "Yeah, you could say that."  She looked around, and when she saw no one nearby, she sighed with relief. "You know me, but what's your name?"

"Scott."  He said simply.  Right as he was about to speak again the announcement could be heard as they posted Patty's scores.

"I have to see how she did, she's one of my friends," Stephanie said as both of them rushed towards the curtains at the end of the hallway where the scores were being announced. Stephanie smiled when she saw that Patty's score was about as high as her own.  But, when they announced that Patty was in second place, she sighed deeply.

"What's the matter," Scott asked when he saw the shadow cross her face. He didn't understand what was happening, until he heard an excited squeal coming from behind them.

Within seconds, the woman that he had seen in the 'kiss and cry' area rushed over to Stephanie and wrapped her arms around her.  "You won, you won!"  Her voice was high with excitement. Stephanie glanced over at Scott who smiled weakly.

"But, Mom, there are still two more skaters that have to compete," Stephanie muttered hoping that the woman would release her from the embrace.

Teresa apparently didn't listen, and continued to hug her daughter excitedly. 

"Congratulations, Stephy," Jake offered coming from behind them, "you skated very well, today.  You should be really proud of yourself."

"You are making a blatant understatement, Mr. McCall, she was wonderful."  Teresa finally released her daughter.  Scott could see the girl's expression completely change when her mother approached and he didn't like what he saw. 

Seconds later, Patty came through the curtain and smiled when she saw Stephanie.  "Congratulations, Stephy, you were really great." Appreciation was evident on Patty's face.   But her smile vanished when Teresa hastily grabbed Stephanie's hand and pulled her away from Patty and Scott.  Stephanie sighed sadly and glanced back in the direction of Scott and Patty with an agonized look in her eyes.  'I'm sorry' were the words she mouthed at the other girl.

Patty looked at Scott shyly.  "I hope you don't think all skaters or their families are like this," she offered sadly as Stephanie was ushered away.  "It's really shameful."

Scott shook his head still trying to understand why Stephanie's mother was so mean to Patty when she had simply offered her congratulations. 

Patty shrugged her shoulders, "Her mother is such a witch!" she grumbled to her coach, who had emerged from behind the curtain, followed closely by Patty's father, Brad. "What harm does it do to at least say hello or thank you?"

Scott nodded, "I saw that woman before Stephanie skated. What's the story with her? She looks like she could crack ice with her eyes."

"It's no secret, Teresa Zimmerman doesn't like Stephanie to be friends with the other skaters," answered the coach, a young woman in her late 20's.  "I used to be her coach as well, and she's a really good skater. Then about a year ago I got fired after Mrs. Zimmerman found out I had taken the job coaching Patty.  She felt that I should devote all my time to Stephanie, and not to her rival."

Patty looked over at her father, Brad, who was standing near the curtain.  "Skaters don't normally have as many opportunities to have friends as other kids do.  It's part of the commitment that they make when they start skating.  The thing is, Patty has always tried to swing friends and her skating."  The man explained, and Patty nodded. 

"I love to skate," Patty explained, "and one day I want to go to the Olympics. But, I also realize how lucky I am because my mom and dad are really great about it.  I also know that if one day I would want to quit, they'd say OK."  She smiled with pride,  "they also know that it will take a lot of work, and I'm willing to try."  She paused and after a second, she continued to speak.  "Stephanie's mother isn't very nice to the other skaters, and I think that's totally stupid attitude to have."  Patty put on the jacket her father offered.

"I don't understand," Scott offered, "if a skater loves the sport, then what's wrong with being friends with other people who are active in it and love it as well?"

Patty's coach smiled, she liked what the boy was saying. "You have a very idealistic attitude about it, but unfortunately, to some parents and also some skaters, winning is more important than anything, including having friends or sportsmanship."

Scott shook his head, "I don't think Stephanie is like that."

"We all know that she's not," Patty answered,  "but her mother's attitude, particularly, is beginning to show in her skating, and her expression on the ice."

"How so?"  Scott wanted to know.  "I mean she looked kinda tired, but that was about all I really noticed."

"That was stress, and that kind of pressure can be overwhelming on a young skater, particularly in the 'Ladies Event'.  Over the past few years, this competition has become very intense."  The woman answered.  "I was a skater in the senior's division, and I remember competing in the Nationals.  I placed near the end, but the pressure was unbearable.  On top of the pressures of competitive skating, Stephanie has the added pressure of her mother's attitude and expectations.  It's obvious that she isn't happy and she doesn't agree with her mother, but she's only 12 and no one can expect her to stand up to her mother.  But, I'm afraid that one day, she's going to have a nervous breakdown."

Scott shook his head, "I had no idea."

"Gilda, would it be OK if he came to one of my training sessions, even if it's just for a little while?"  Patty asked. "I mean, I know that normally we don't have outsiders to the practices, but it would be kinda fun and it'd give him the idea that it's not all fun and flair, but hard work."

"I never believed that it wasn't hard work.  But wouldn't it be a distraction having me around during practice?"  Scott asked.

The woman smiled and nodded at Patty.  Her attention diverted to Scott, "you are welcome to come, but it's not as exciting as the competition.  I think that Patty's right, it will give you the idea about how much work it takes for someone to reach certain levels as a figure skater.  What's your name?"

"Scott Hayden," he said, his eyes shining, he was actually going to see a real skater in practice.  This would be great and these people seemed really nice.

"OK," said Gilda.  "Patty has a day off tomorrow, so we'll get together on Saturday, and then you won't miss school.  Also, I usually take it easy on her on Saturdays".   

Patty smiled and nodded, "yeah, it was actually my idea that I train on Saturdays as well as on Sundays."

Scott looked at Gilda, who nodded.  "Thanks," he offered, "I've always wondered about the sport, and I appreciate you going out of your way for me."

"It's nothing, Scott," Gilda said, "I learned long ago that young skaters sometimes need a break, and it's not often that Patty takes a break for fun."

Scott laughed looking at the girl appreciatively.

"This is so cool."  Patty said.

Brad walked over to the three of them.  "Listen, I don't mean to change the subject, but after they announce the winners, why don't we go out to lunch?  You're free to join us Scott, if you'd like."

"That sounds really great, Mr. Fischer, but I need to ask my father.  He's photographing the events and said that he has to stay until the 'Men's competition' is over." Scott said.  "I'm supposed to meet him once that's over."

"I'm sorry, Brad, but I can't," Gilda said, "I have already made a commitment to meet with Sarah Bingham's family about her training.  But, I will see you for practice Saturday morning, Patty.  If you want to come, Scott, be here at 10, and I'll inform the people here that you will be coming."

"You're not staying for the final announcement, Gilda?"  Patty asked.

"Of course I'm staying."  Gilda said, smiling.  "This would be your first medal under my coaching, Patty, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.  I just can't go to lunch with you guys."

Patty sighed with relief.  "I'm glad that you're staying, Gilda and that Scott can come on Saturday."  She giggled, "I'll even find you a pair of skates on Saturday."

Scott's eyes widened, "Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into?" he muttered.

Patty and her father chuckled. 

"Well, Scott, if you want to come to training, you will have to put on a pair of skates and let Patty show you some simple moves."  Gilda said.

Patty smiled at the handsome teenager, "Don't worry, Scott, we'll go easy on you.  The jumps will come later."

The four of them laughed.

o O o

Back in the arena, Paul was dusting the lens of his camera when Scott approached him. "Hey Dad, is it OK if I go to lunch with one of the skaters?"

Paul turned and smiled when he saw his son approaching him. He nodded, "I have to take pictures of the Men's competition too, and then I have to take the film down the street and drop it off."

Scott nodded, "Yeah, I know, but Patty Fischer's dad invited me to join them for lunch after they give out the awards in her division.  Is it OK if I go?" 

"I think it would be fine.  I'd like to meet them before you go anywhere, though, OK?"  Paul said as he put the small cloth back inside his camera bag.  He didn't like his son going anywhere with strangers.  He supposed it was his parenting instincts kicking in again, and he felt proud that he was doing well as a parent to his half-human teenage son.

"Hey, there she is."  Scott pointed over to where Patty Fischer was standing next to her father.  He waved at her and she approached them.

"Mr. Hayden?"  Patty asked extending her hand.

"Paul Forrester," Paul corrected her with a smile taking her hand and shaking it.  "Nice to meet you, Patty.  You skated very well and you made it look so easy."

"Thank you, this was my first competition here," Patty explained.  "My family moved here from California last year."

Paul nodded smiling.  "Did you skate competitively in California?"

"Yeah, but it was much harder there, because there are so many talented people.  Not that the skaters here aren't talented, it's just that there, the competitions are more difficult and there are a lot more skaters."  She smiled broadly,  "When we moved here, my father found a job in his field, he's a Chemical Engineer.  He wanted to have a job, which could help pay for my training.  In California, there weren't too many openings and he was working as a Technician and we couldn't afford the training like I'm getting with Gilda."  Patty explained fondly remembering the sacrifices her parents have made for her.

"That's really great, that you have such a supportive family," Scott said.

Patty nodded, "Yeah, I know, and believe me, in this sport, the more support one has, the better.  I've seen a number of girls really lose it because they have overbearing parents or coaches.  Gilda said that a lot parents and coaches try to live out their dreams through the kids, and that's not fair.  My parents are great, they support but they don't push, they never have."

Paul cocked his head to one side, "How is it that you became so determined to become a good skater if you didn't have that kind of pressure?"

"I don't know, Gilda said that it's probably my own stubbornness about it."  Patty said, "I have a feeling that's the only logical answer, that and maybe because my coach in California wanted me to succeed so that he'd get more jobs."

Paul nodded, "Is that why you are concerned about Stephanie Zimmerman, and her mother's attitude towards you and the other skaters?"

"How'd you know about that?"  Patty asked.

"I told him," Scott lied quickly covering for his father's ability to telepathically sense what the young skater was feeling when he shook her hand.  He looked at his father and shook his head slightly. 

Patty smiled and nodded oblivious to the silent communication between Paul and Scott, "Yeah, well, it's pretty obvious that Stephanie's mother doesn't like me, and like I told you, Scott, it's really stupid.  I mean someone can skate and be friendly without it effecting their performance."  She sighed sadly, "But I have a feeling that Stephanie doesn't like skating anymore.  I watched her performance, and it was better than mine, but the energy wasn't there."

Paul nodded; he had also noticed Stephanie's lackluster appearance after her scores had been read.   He had also noticed that most of the other girls tended to stay away from Stephanie whenever her mother was around. 

He smiled reassuringly, " I think that Stephanie is very lucky to have you for a friend."

Patty smiled, "Thanks."

Brad approached the three of them, "You're Scott's father?"

"Yes, Paul Forrester," came the soft answer as Paul extended his hand to Patty's father. 

"Brad Fischer, nice to meet you.  We were talking to your son outside."  He shook Paul's outstretched hand, and turned to his daughter, "Patty, you came in second, and Gilda wants to see you before you get your medal."

"I did?"  Patty's eyes widened, "Wow!"

"Congratulations," Paul offered.

"Yeah, that's great, I'm really happy for you," Scott answered.

"I'll see you later, Scott," Patty said, her voice bubbling with excitement.  She rushed away from the three of them forgetting to acknowledge Paul's words.

"She's really excited," Brad offered. "Normally she says 'thank you' when she is congratulated."  He laughed.  "Sorry about that, Paul."

Paul smiled and nodded, "That's OK, your daughter has the same energy that my son has."

Scott looked at his father with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Would you like to join us for lunch after the awards ceremony for Patty's division is over?"  Brad asked.

"I would, but I have to take pictures for the next competition and I am not certain when that will be finished."  Paul said.

"Listen, it will probably take Patty an hour to change and everything, so by then the other competition should be over, and you can join us."  Brad suggested.

"Does it really take an hour for a skater to get changed to leave?"  Scott asked.

"I can't say for sure about most skaters, but my Patty takes quite a while to get herself changed after a competition.  She's a perfectionist, like her mother.  She even does her own ironing, and polishes her own skates.  She's a dedicated skater, and she adores the sport."

"Really?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, she has taken half of the video tapes at our house, and she tapes nothing on them but figure skating competitions.  When she can't skate, she watches skating on TV."

"Woah, that is dedication, Mr. Fischer."  Scott offered.

Brad nodded, "I remember last year some months after we moved here, she had the flu for about two weeks.  She was so mad that her mother wouldn't allow her to go to training."  He laughed remembering, "she was in her bathrobe doing footwork on the kitchen floor.  I actually grabbed the Camcorder and secretly taped her.  Three weeks later, I popped the tape in the VCR, and she just about killed me."

Scott laughed heartedly.  "What happened then?"

"I took the tape to Gilda as a joke, but after she watched it, she told Patty that if she ever overexerted herself when she is sick, she'd quit as her coach."  Brad said.  "I felt like a stool pigeon even though I initially did it as a joke."

Paul's eyes widened and he looked to his son for a definition.  When Scott gave him the familiar 'I'll explain later' look, his attention diverted back to Brad's story.

"Anyway, Patty promised that she wouldn't do that again if she gets sick.  Instead, she started taping the skating on TV and when she's sick, we set the TV and VCR up in her room and she watches it from her bed."   Brad concluded.

Scott smiled, "I think that's really great."

Brad nodded, "Gilda is really a good coach, very firm, and she doesn't take half-efforts.  She doesn't like it when Patty's distracted with other worries when she skates, but she's also the most laid-back coach Patty ever had.  Mandy and I get along well with her too, which I think is also important.  Patty adores her, maybe it's because she's younger, and knows how teenage girls think.  It's hard to say for sure, but the two of them are very compatible."

Paul looked over at the rink and up at the stands where the people were sitting, "I think that your daughter is very talented."

Brad chuckled, "Me too, and even if she wasn't my daughter; I'd have to say that of all the girls I have met, she's probably the most level-headed."  Brad changed the subject when he saw Patty waving him over to where she was standing, talking to Gilda. "Listen, when Patty's finished, we'll come back here, meet, and see if you're done.  If you're not, then we'll go, and I'll drive Scott home afterwards."

Paul nodded, "OK."

Brad walked back over to where Patty and Gilda were standing deep in conversation with one of the other girls, Sarah Bingham. Sarah had come in third in the division.  Stephanie stood off to the side away from the other two girls, and her mother eyed Patty disapprovingly.

Paul glanced back over at his son. "I like them." He offered. 

Scott nodded, "Yeah, they're really nice.  Too bad that you didn't meet Gilda, that's Patty's coach.  She's really interesting."

"So, how did you happen to meet Patty Fischer anyway?" 

Scott explained what had happened when he had left and added that he had been invited to attend Patty's practice session in two days and asked if it would be OK if he attended.

Paul nodded, "You really like her, don't you?"

"Yeah, she's really great, and she's pretty, like a movie star."  Scott grinned at his father sheepishly.  "Maybe it's the fact that she's got her hair up and is made up, I don't really know, I just can't believe that she's not older than 13."

Paul nodded as the announcement of the winners resonated through the small rink.   First Stephanie skated out and the people cheered.  Second, Patty skated out and took her place next to Stephanie, as the cheers continued.  Finally, Sarah Bingham came out to retrieve her third place medal.  In her excitement, Sara reached out and hugged Patty. 

Stephanie looked at the other two girls, isolation evident in her face.

Paul took several pictures of the skaters but lowered his camera when he saw Stephanie's face.  The poor girl, she looked as though she would have loved to be anywhere but where she was. He couldn't bring himself to take her picture, when she was so overwhelmingly sad.  Finally, he gave her a warm smile, and once her expression changed from a frown to a small smile, he took her picture.

As Paul and Scott watched the events on the ice, Teresa Zimmerman approached Scott, who was standing a few steps away from his father watching.  Neither father nor son noticed her approaching until her icy voice broke into his thoughts. 

"You were the boy talking to my daughter, weren't you?" She asked the usual iciness in her voice.

Scott nodded, "Yeah."

"Why are you here?  I've never seen you with any of the other skaters, so you can't be family or friends of anyone here?"  The woman's voice was demanding.

"My dad is taking pictures of the competition, and I came along with him."  Scott offered trying to keep the discomfort out of his voice.  When he opened his mouth to speak once again, his eyes fell on the kind blue eyes of his father.  Paul simply shook his head and once Scott understood his father's silent communication, he shrugged his shoulders and said nothing else.

"I see," Teresa nodded and took a few steps towards Paul. "Get good shots of Stephanie, she's the best skater out there, not Patty Fischer."  She whispered in Paul's ear.  Her hand brushed against his arm, but not before he felt the emotions radiating from the woman.

When Paul turned around to answer Teresa, she was already making her way towards a man who was waiting by the curtain. 

Scott looked at his father, "Patty was right, what a witch."

Paul sighed deeply trying to block what he felt.  "There's more to her than just someone you call a witch," he whispered. "I'll tell you about it at home, OK?" 

Scott nodded wondering what it was Paul was going to tell him.

Paul finally turned away from the woman's retreating back and focused his attention to the events, which were taking place on the ice.  He took a few more pictures of the three girls on the ice and once they came off the ice, he unwound the film in the camera and packed it in his camera bag.  He removed a new package of film and loaded his camera for the next event.  When he saw the Zamboni come out to resurface the ice, he watched curiously. 

Scott made his way over towards the group of people and waited for Patty and Stephanie so he could congratulate them once again. 

Upon seeing Scott, Stephanie smiled weakly at him and came slowly towards him.  She was smiling at him, and he could tell that she liked him.  He took a step towards her, but within a split second, Teresa came between them and grabbed her daughter's hand.  "We're going home now, Stephanie.  Go change."

Stephanie nodded sadly, and walked through the curtain without looking back. 

Unaware to Teresa, Paul had seen the event take place as well and followed the young skater through the curtain.  He was determined to talk to her.

"Young man, stay away from my daughter," was all Teresa said to him.  She walked over towards the stands and waited.

Scott was left fuming.

o O o

In the lobby, Paul had caught up with Stephanie.  "Stephanie, wait," he called out.  When she turned around, and he saw the tears brimming under her eyes, he spoke again.  "Are you OK?"

The girl nodded, but after looking into Paul's gentle eyes, she shook her head and sat down on the bench.  The held back tears began to stream down her cheeks as she bent over to take her skates off.  She couldn't bring herself to speak, and Paul could see the sadness in her brown eyes. 

"It's not easy for you, is it?" Paul asked softly.

Stephanie's lips trembled and Paul knew that she was trying to remain strong but her strength was wavering.  Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, and the make-up she wore left black streaks on her cheeks and dark smudges under her eyes.

"How old are you?"  Paul asked, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a tissue.  This he handed to her.

"12," emerged from her lips as she wiped the make-up out of her eyes.

He kneeled down in front of her placed his hands on her trembling shoulders to calm her.  "You're just a child," he said compassionately as he felt her pent up emotions.  "It's not easy to try to live up to other people's expectations, is it?" 

"I have to go, my mother is waiting," Stephanie mumbled, not moving away from Paul.  This man's touch to her shoulder helped and she didn't want to go into the dressing room, she knew there that she would be alone again and she longed to remain in the company of this man who seemed to be the only person who understand the pain she felt.

"Do you want to talk about it?"  Paul asked.  "I'll listen."

She nodded, "but how can I...my mother?"  Her voice reflected hopelessness.

"Come outside for a few minutes," he offered softly, "I think you need a few minutes away from all of this."  Paul stood up, and offered her his hand.

She looked up at him, fear hidden in her eyes.  She didn't know what to do.  Her fear was not of the kind man who had offered her his hand, but also of her mother.  She knew that if Teresa found out that she was outside speaking to a stranger rather than getting dressed to go home, that she would get angry again.

"I won't hurt you," Paul offered, "My name is Paul.   Scott, the boy you talked to, is my son." 

"I know, but you're not the person I'm afraid of," Stephanie said softly. She reached her hand out and grasped Paul's hand. After seconds passed she stood up and allowed him to lead her outside. 

Once outside, Stephanie sank to her knees, the feelings came out in a torrent of tears. 

Paul pulled another tissue from his pocket, and slipped it into her hand.  "You don't like skating, do you?"

Stephanie shook her head, "no, I don't, is it that obvious?"

"Only here," Paul pointed to her eyes. 

"I don't understand," she mumbled.

"You don't have the sparkle in your eyes that Patty has, and there's something else, you don't smile."  Paul answered softly. "You didn't smile on the ice when you were skating."

Stephanie sighed deeply looking at him, "I used to like it, when Patty and I trained together, and were friends."

Paul nodded.

"Please, Paul, don't tell my mother any of this, she'd kill me."  She looked back at the door leading back inside.  When she saw her mother walking through the hallway, she swallowed the lump, which formed in her throat and stood up.  "I have to go. If she finds me out here, I'll get into trouble."

She stood up and once her mother's back disappeared behind the curtain, she slipped inside, and broke into a run to get to the safety of the dressing room.

Paul was left standing outside alone.  He sighed deeply as he made his way back inside.

When he saw Teresa Zimmerman sitting at the stands, an idea suddenly came to mind.  He approached the woman.  "Mrs. Zimmerman?"

"Yes," came her icy answer.  Upon recognizing who had addressed her, her voice became even more demanding.  "You're the boy's father?  What do you want?"

"Yes, the boy is my son, but I want to talk to you about your daughter," Paul offered.

"Well if you are trying to pursued me to allow my daughter to see the boy, then forget it."  Teresa said with conviction. "Besides, Stephanie has training."

"It has nothing to do with my son, it has to do with your daughter.  As you know, I work as a photographer, and I would like to take some pictures of her for a portfolio I need to put together, and I wanted to get your permission."  Paul said. 

"Well, of course you can," suddenly her voice changed and she sounded as sweet as sugar.  Paul's eyebrows rose when he heard the change in her speech.

"Thank you, when does she have time?" 

"Sunday morning?" Teresa offered.

Paul nodded, "OK, then I'll meet her here at 10."

"We'll be here," she answered assuredly.

"I don't mean to appear rude, but why can't she come here alone?  I can take the photos when she's in training with her coach."  Paul asked sighing.  He knew that if he arranged to take pictures, with Teresa around, he'd have to and wouldn't be able to talk to Stephanie and he felt that his work was the only way he could see her again, and maybe help her.

"I am her mother, Mister, and I go where she goes."  Teresa's voice once again became icy.  This conversation was apparently over.

o O o

Scott was still standing near the rink when a hand fell on his shoulder.  He looked up and saw Patty, her eyes expressing the sympathy that her words could not.

"I saw everything," Patty said softly knowing very well that Scott was attracted to the other girl.  "It's so awful, that woman's got Stephy wound up like a spring," Patty grumbled noticing Scott's worried expression.  "It's embarrassing that she acts like this." 

"What happened, Hon?"  Brad asked softly, approaching the two of them.

"Stephanie's mother, what else?  I think she's more afraid of her mother than she is of competing."  Patty said wiping frustrated tears out of her eyes.  "When we first moved here, Stephy was the first person to welcome me here.  We both train here now, but at different times.  You remember; Daddy, she and I used to have fun?"

Brad nodded as his daughter continued to speak.

"We would come here during  'free skate' and do jumps and stuff together."  Patty looked at Scott's bewildered face.  "Oh, a 'free skate' is when they let the skaters practice and stuff. But, now, it's like she's skating for her mother's prestige rather than her own."

Paul approached them, his camera bag hanging over his shoulder.  "Hello."

Scott looked up at his father, his eyes unhappy.  Paul could see that his son was concerned for both the skaters he had met that afternoon, but remained silent.  He knew that Scott had a reason to be concerned, but he would tell him everything later when they were at home. 

Patty's face was still sad, "You know what really bothers me, Daddy?  I'm supposed to be happy, I won second place, and I should feel really great about it."

Brad nodded, "You're a good friend, Patty.  If Stephanie only knew just how good of a friend you are." 

"But, her mother won't even let me within three feet of her," Patty said.  "It's cruel to do this to someone, and I can't see why she tries to keep us separated."

Paul shook his head; "People sometimes mistake their love for others as blind expectations.  People like Mrs. Zimmerman are essentially doing everything to enhance their own self esteem rather than the self worth of a child who desperately needs it." His blue eyes sought those of Patty, "Your father's right, the best thing you can do is be a friend to Stephanie and that's what she really needs."

"Do you think that's what Mrs. Zimmerman is doing to Stephanie, Dad?" Scott asked.

Paul nodded, "Yes I do."  He didn't go into any lengthy explanations. 

"Wait, I think I know that Stephanie wants to be friends with you, Patty.  When we were talking in the lobby, Stephanie interrupted me to check the scores.  She said, 'she's one of my friends'.  Then she walked to the curtain and listened.  I think she wanted you to win."  Scott said honestly.

"Really?"  Patty's eyes became moist with tears.

Scott nodded, "it was right before you came through the curtains and congratulated her."

Patty smiled through her tears, and looked from her father, to Paul to Scott.  "Thanks, I feel a little better now."  She was still worried, but at least she still knew that she and Stephanie were still friends.  For now, that had to be enough.

"That's my girl," Brad said.  "Are you in the mood for some lunch?"

Patty nodded, "Yeah, I need to eat something."

"Me too, I could eat a house," Brad said laughing.  "Besides, we gotta toast your good finish today.  You realize now that this means you're going to the regional competition, don't you?"

"Oh my gosh! I totally forgot about that, I just wanted to have a good finish.  Then we have to celebrate."  Patty's smile returned, as she began to pull bobby pins from her hair.  "But, I think I'd rather get changed into something more appropriate and wash this guck off my face."

Scott looked over at her hot pink skating dress and laughed. "I don't know; you would probably create a new fashion trend walking into the restaurant wearing that."

They all laughed.

"I have to get back inside for the 'Men's competition', it's about to start."  Paul said refraining from mentioning anything about his conversations with Stephanie or Teresa.

Brad nodded, "I have to call my wife and arrange when we're going to meet."

"She's not here?"  Scott asked.

"No, she had to stay home and take care of Patty's little sister." Brad explained.  "Normally, we get a baby-sitter so we can both attend the competitions, but little Erika has been having the sniffles, and Mandy didn't want to leave her."

Scott nodded as he watched his father made his way back over towards the railing of the rink.

"So what about you, Scott?"  Brad asked.  "I haven't seen you or your father around town, you new here?"

"Yeah, my Dad and I have been on the road, his work kinda keeps us going from place to place."  Scott's voice trailed a little.  He purposely refrained from mentioning the other reason he and his father traveled.  It was too scary for him.   The escape from building 11 was still fresh in his mind and the fear he had was that these kind people wouldn't understand why he and his father had to live this way.

"How does your mother deal with all this traveling?"  Brad asked.

"She's not with us right now."  Scott said sadly.  "We're trying to find her."

Upon noticing the sadness in the boy's eyes, he stopped this line of questions.  "Sorry if I upset you, I was just curious."

Scott nodded, "It's OK, Mr. Fischer."

"Call me Brad, please, we're pretty informal around here," he said.  "Listen, I have to go call Mandy.  I'll be back in a few minutes."  He stood up and made his way towards the door leading outside.

Scott nodded and glanced over towards the dressing room where Patty had gone.  He hoped that she would be back soon, with her around, he didn't have the chance to contemplate his problems. 

His father was on the other side of the curtain still taking pictures of the event.

 Scott was left alone with his thoughts and his mind began to drift.  It had been almost a year since his father had come back, and they had just lost his mother in Arizona.  He knew that no matter how hard he wished, that he'd never have a normal family. The small round sphere he carried in his pocket demonstrated that.  It was a part of his birthright, but it also defined the fact that he was different, not like his alien father, and not like his human mother.  He sighed deeply, he knew that his father had traveled from across the galaxy to help him, and now that George Fox and the Federal Security Agency knew of his father and his presence here, they wouldn't stop until Paul and Scott were captured.

Scott swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.  Building 11 had been the worst nightmare that he could imagine.  He felt extremely lucky that his Uncle Wayne had been there for them and saved them from a lifetime of imprisonment.  This event alone had caused him and his father to become even closer than they were before, and Scott knew that he'd die if anything ever happened to his wise, yet innocent father. 

His thoughts continued to drift as he thought about his life in Seattle before his father had come back.  He had been left with foster parents, the Lockharts, and after they were killed in a car accident, Paul suddenly appeared, claiming to be his father, and they began to travel together.  His early rejection of his father had now turned to love, and Scott had developed a sense of pride about who he was.  Sighing deeply he closed his eyes.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, his eyes popped open and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Scott."  Brad said.  He had returned from making his phone call and sat down on the bench. 

"It's OK," he muttered.

"You all right?  You looked like you were really deep in thought."

"Yeah, I'm all right, you just scared me that's all."  Scott answered.

"Are you sure you're OK, you look a little pale?"  Brad asked.

Scott nodded, this time not saying a word.

"Sorry, I sound like an overbearing parent," Brad offered with a chuckle.  "Patty would have scolded me for that."

"Really?"  Scott looked over at the man seated across from him.

"Yeah, she's the type that doesn't like people to make a fuss over her."  Brad said, "She's like her mother.  I somehow get the impression that you take after your father."

Scott stifled a sarcastic grin.  "How so?"

"You're very smart, and from what Patty said you both ask a lot of questions."  Brad answered with a smile.

Scott laughed out loud. 

"You know, Patty would probably strangle me because I'm not watching the competition in there.  Normally I do, but today I don't feel like it.  Unlike Patty, I have my limits on how much skating I can watch."  He laughed.

Scott laughed,  "I had only seen skating on TV, so I don't really know."

"It's a good sport, but me, I like a good soccer match, or basketball," Brad said.  "You into sports, Scott?"

"Yeah, I like to run, and ran track earlier this year.  My coach was really great.  I remember we used to sneak through this broken fence so we would beat him at the cross-country.  He come back and we'd applaud that he actually made it."  Scott said fondly remembering the fun he'd had in San Leon.

"I was on swim team in school.  My coach said I swam like a fish.  Then three years later in college, one of my buddies said I should drink like a fish, and swim like a dog."  He grinned sheepishly.  "One of these days when you're in college, you'll know what I mean."

Scott laughed, "Yeah, I think I do, anyway."

"I don't drink alcohol myself, probably because I'm allergic to it, not to mention I can't stand the taste of it," Brad offered, "but in college a lot of guys do."

"You studied Chemical Engineering, right?"  Scott asked.

"How'd you know?"  Brad asked.

"Patty mentioned it to my dad, I just happened to listen." Scott grinned.

"What about you, what do you want to study in college?"  Brad asked.

"Astronomy, probably," came the answer.

"Yeah?"  When Scott nodded, he continued, "that's great, you must have the aptitude for that subject.  I must admit; my biggest disaster in college was trying to get through this one Physics class.  The professor taught like we were all Einstein reincarnated.  It was a nightmare."  Brad chuckled, "Getting a 'C' in that class must have been the biggest miracle of my life."

Scott laughed again; hanging around with Brad was really fun. He was really cool, and interesting.  "How did Patty get into figure skating?"

"Her mother was at the mall with her one day, and she couldn't have been any older than five, and they were doing a skating exhibition there, and there was a skater there who was a senior level skater.  It was a young man about 20 years old."  Brad began warming up to the subject.  "This man did an exhibition program and according to Mandy, Patty was star-struck.  But, I think what put the icing on the cake, was when he skated over to Patty and picked her up in his arms and skated around the rink with her on his shoulder.  That evening when Patty and Mandy came home, Patty begged us for skating lessons.  We agreed and she started skating."

"She was only five years old?"  Scott asked.

"Yeah, but keep in mind, most kids who are involved in the sport, started skating when they were five or six years old.  As I told you in the hall, this is a commitment that young people make and a lot them drop out before they even get out of the Novice divisions because their interests change."

"Wow, that's really wild.  I never thought that a five or six year old kid could make such a commitment."  Scott offered.

"Yeah, but a lot of times these kids are pushed rather hard by their parents.  Like Stephanie; I have seen her mother fly into rages when Stephanie would miss jumps in practice." Brad said sadly.

"But I thought that Patty and Stephanie practiced at separate times?"  Scott asked.

"Not always.  When we first moved here, Stephanie and Patty both had their training under Gilda.  Later, Gilda told me that she had been fired as Stephanie's coach.  I remember the events before Gilda had been fired; I'd come into the hall to pick up Patty after practice and would hear Teresa Zimmerman screaming at Stephanie about missing jumps or something.  Then, Mrs. Zimmerman hired a new coach, Jake McCall, and they completely changed her practice times so that Stephanie and Patty couldn't even train at the same times."

"How did Patty react to it?"  Scott asked.

"At first it scared her, but later she admitted to me that it made her angry.  She told me that she couldn't understand a parent yelling at their kid over something like a double Flip." Brad shrugged his shoulders, but continued speaking, "but then Patty would see Stephanie take it like a soldier.  She confided in me that she wanted to scream back at Mrs. Zimmerman, but I told her that she'd better not.  I had a feeling that Patty's emotions were strong, but I didn't know how solid Stephanie's were and I feared that if Patty had said anything, then it would only be worse on Stephanie."

"Wow, and from watching the sport, one would think that it was all glitter and glitz," Scott said.

Brad shook his head.  "I know what you mean, but after watching Patty immerse herself into it, I learned quickly that there's a lot of blood, sweat and tears to it."

Scott laughed, but finally spoke again.  "Gilda said that the pressures Stephanie's under are gonna cause her to have a nervous breakdown, what do you think?"

"I think it's much worse than what Gilda said, Scott." Brad said.  "I think the pressure that Mrs. Zimmerman is putting on her daughter, could be considered abusive, and that if someone doesn't help her soon, then Stephanie may have a mental and emotional breakdown."

Scott shuttered, he couldn't imagine anything worse than that.  "What about your wife, what does she think?"

"Mandy hasn't heard all of what I have and I haven't told her.  Like I said, Patty and Mandy are cut from the same mold," Brad said.  "I know both Mandy and Patty well enough to know that if they were to yell back at Mrs. Zimmerman, the results fall on the shoulders of Stephanie.  This woman has outrageous expectations for her daughter and tries to live them out through her.  I couldn't do that to Patty, that's why we never pushed her to be more than what she is.  She has pushed herself more than any of us ever could have."

"I think you guys are great.  Patty's lucky," Scott offered. 

"Thanks, but listen, I may have said too much here, so please don't tell Patty any of this OK? I mean, maybe I'm trying to protect her, but I know she's concerned.  I also know how she is, and I believe that if she had to, she'd give up the skating if it meant saving her friend." Brad said, his voice barely above a whisper.  "I don't want her to give up anything she loves because of the actions of others."

"She'd really give it up, like that, if it meant saving Stephanie?" Scott asked.

Brad nodded, "I think she would."

Scott nodded numbly.  "I won't say anything, but I'd like talk to my dad about it later?"

Brad nodded, "I don't see why you can't."

By this time, Patty had emerged from the dressing room. "Daddy, why aren't you watching the competition?"

Brad looked up and blushed, "Sorry Princess, we're just having guy talk."

Patty giggled, "yeah, I guess living with three women, you probably need that sometimes." 

Scott looked up and saw her.  The first thing he noticed was that her wavy hair was out of the bun and brushing against her shoulders.  The make-up she had worn during the competition was gone and she wore a beige skirt and a turtleneck sweater.  The girl standing before him looked like a completely different person than then skater that he had seen an hour ago. 

"Daddy can you hold this for me for a minute?"  She handed Brad a clothing bag, and moved the duffel bag strap up on her shoulder closer to her neck.  Once the bag was comfortably hanging from her shoulder, she took the bag away from her father.

"Your mom and baby sister are going to meet us at the restaurant in a half an hour," Brad said, then he turned to Scott,  "why don't you go and see if your father's ready to go, and we can head out.  It's gonna take some time to get there with the traffic."

Scott nodded and headed back through the curtain.  The last of the skaters were beginning to take their skates off, and Scott knew that the competition must be over because the Zamboni had returned to resurface the ice.  He glanced over and saw his father putting his camera into its bag. 

"You're done?" Scott asked approaching his father.

Paul nodded, "Yes, it was an interesting competition.  I took many pictures of all the competitors. The Guthries should be happy."

"So that means you can come with us.  Great!"  Scott picked up the bag after Paul closed it.  "We'd better hurry, Patty and Brad are waiting in the lobby."

"OK, but I need to take this film to be developed before we go eat."  Paul said. 

"Maybe we can meet them at the restaurant, then."  Scott suggested.

"Let's see what Brad has in mind," Paul offered.

Scott nodded as they made their way outside.  Patty and Brad were standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance.

"Hi, Mr. Forrester, did you enjoy the competition?"  Patty wanted to know, as soon as they joined them outside.

"Call me Paul, and yes I did," came his answer.

"Who won?"  Patty asked.

"Daniel Jenkins," Paul answered.

"He's really good, I've seen him during practice.  He can land a triple Loop in competition with no problems.  After this event, he'll probably to move up to the junior level. The hardest jump I have successfully landed in competition was the triple Toe loop."  Patty grinned and continued, "I've tried to land the triple Loop so often, but the problem is I can't seem to get all the way around on it.  I told Gilda once that I did it once successfully, but I also admitted to having my eyes closed.  She laughed, but still, she's been really working me on it."

"Kinda like a one hit wonder?"  Scott asked.

"Yeah something like that.  I've been really trying to land it solid, too.  Gilda said that with a solid triple Loop in competition, I could compete in the Junior division because my other jumps are solid, but I know it's going to take a lot of practice to perfect it, and I still have to get more experience with that particular one before I move on to Juniors."

"Are you going to compete as a junior any time soon?"  Paul asked.

"Probably next season, but I would have to wait and see." Patty answered, "I want to be good enough to qualify or I'd be biting off more than I can chew."

Paul nodded, "I need to drop off this film before we go eat. Can we meet you at the restaurant?"        

"How far away do you have to go?"  Brad asked.

"Not far, maybe three or four blocks," Paul answered.

"Well, why don't we follow you and then after you drop it off, we can go to the restaurant?   It's not far from here, but kind of hard to find."  Brad explained as he dug around in his pocket and pulled out his car keys.

"OK, that's will be fine."  Paul and Scott walked over to their pickup truck and Brad and Patty climbed in a small blue mini-van.  Brad started the car and followed Paul and Scott out of the parking lot.

Once Paul dropped the film, he and Scott followed Brad's car to the restaurant where they would be having lunch.

Once they arrived, Paul parked their truck next to Brad's mini-van.  Brad and Patty were already out of the car and they saw Patty waving her hands at a woman standing by the door of the restaurant, her hands rested on the curved handles of a stroller.  A small girl sat inside.

As Paul and Scott were getting out of the car, they could hear the excited voice of Patty as she approached the woman.  "Mom, I placed second!"  Patty said as she reached her mother, and showed the silver medal she held in her hands.

"Wonderful!"  The woman wrapped her older daughter in her arms, "I'm so proud of you, I wish I could have been there."  She looked up at her husband, as he approached,  "Who was first?"

"Stephanie was," Patty said. 

Her mother's face darkened.  "I guess Stephanie hasn't gone over the edge yet."  Mandy Fischer glanced over to see a man and teenage boy standing behind her husband. 

Patty's smile disappeared, "Mom," she whined.

Mandy sighed and nodded, "I'm sorry, Honey.  I just feel sorry for that girl." 

Brad thought it best to change the subject, "How's Erika doing?" he asked.

"She's fine, still has the sniffles, but I think she'll be OK."  Mandy said.

"Hi," Paul said finally greeting Patty's mother.

"Oh, Mom, this is Scott and his father, Paul.  Daddy invited them to come along for lunch."  Patty said.  "Paul was taking pictures of the competition and we happened to meet today."

Mandy nodded and smiled warmly, "Nice to meet you both."

"Why don't we go inside and see what we can get to eat?"  Brad asked.  "I smell a steak with my name on it."

Paul and Scott smiled and followed the family inside the restaurant.  Paul had his camera bag hanging from his shoulder as they entered. 

Once inside they sat down at a large table.

"Are you going to take some pictures here?"  Patty asked as she reached for a menu, which was in the center of the table.

"No, I just like to keep my camera with me as much as possible.  Just in case," Paul answered smiling.  He placed the camera bag on the floor near his feet and reached for a menu.

Patty seemed to accept this answer and didn't say anything else.

Instead Scott spoke up, "A lot of the advantages of having a photographer for a father is that if I want some pictures of special occasions, then I don't have to hire anyone."

Patty broke into giggles.  "OK, I just wasn't sure if there would be pictures taken here, and if there were, I was wondering if they would go to a newspaper.  It never occurred to me that a photographer takes pictures for fun too."

Paul smiled at Patty, as Scott's voice could be heard from the other side of the table. "Nah, he's not taking pictures for a recipe book.  Besides, if any pictures are taken, they'll be for me."   Scott smiled at the girl sitting next to him.

Paul was grateful that his son had rescued him again.  After only a short time on the planet, Paul still had a great deal to learn, and he was very grateful that his son was there to teach him.  He reached in his pocket and touched his sphere.  This was much more important than the camera, because it acted as a link to his own world. 

Patty smiled, "I just don't want anyone to see my picture when I have a bit of lettuce between my teeth."

"What and miss out on another fashion statement?"  Brad poked his daughter on the arm and they all laughed.

o O o

That evening, Paul and Scott arrived at home.  The afternoon with the Fischer's had been really great and Scott had completely forgotten that he had homework to do for the following day until Paul came in and reminded him.

"Dad, what's up with Stephanie?"  Scott put his pencil down on the pages that he was working on.  The Algebra equation was forgotten because the teenager couldn't concentrate.

Paul came over and sat down across from his son, "Scott, she is sick.  I don't mean like the flu or something, I mean in her head."

"I don't understand; can you try to explain with different words?"  Scott's voice was soft.

Paul nodded, "She's very unhappy, and it's effecting everything about her."

"Brad was right," Scott said, "it can get much worse than a nervous breakdown."

Paul nodded, "I'm afraid so, if someone doesn't find a way to break through this wall her mother has built around her, she will look for a drastic way out.  Stephanie is in a lot of pain right now, and she doesn't have too much strength left."

"A way out," Scott's eyes met those of his father.  "What can we do?"

"I don't know, but Scott, you must not mention anything to Patty about this, she's worried, and I'm trying to get through that barrier to speak to Stephanie."

Scott nodded, "I know, Brad told me the same thing.  Did you get a chance to talk to Stephanie today?"

Paul nodded, "I talked to her for about five minutes.  She's petrified of her mother, and I was trying to find a way to talk to her without her mother being around.  She desperately needs to talk to someone, but because her mother is so obsessive about her, the chances of me getting another chance aren't too likely."

"Did you have any luck arranging anything?"  Scott wanted to know.

Paul shook his head, "Teresa expects to be everywhere her daughter is, and the only way to talk to Stephanie would be in the presence of her mother."

"Dad, you can't do anything?"  Scott asked.

Paul shook his head. 

Scott picked up his pencil, his mind was too consumed to concentrate and he slammed the book shut.  "I can't concentrate."

Paul came over to his son and wrapped him in his arms.  "I know.  I wish there was something we could do, but I've run out of ideas."

"You mean like going to Teresa Zimmerman and giving her a piece of your mind?"  Scott offered. 

"You know that I can't do that, one because I don't have the Geffner temperament you have, but also because Stephanie would catch even more from her mother if either of us did."  Paul said.  "Besides, Teresa doesn't want you to have any contact with Stephanie."

"Why?"  Scott asked.

"Teresa saw you speaking with Patty at the rink, and she thinks that you would distract Stephanie's attention from her skating, and then Patty would win the next competition."  Paul said softly, "That's what I felt when she brushed against me. Teresa's afraid that if her daughter has any contact with Patty, that Patty would conspire against her and win."

"That's absurd!"  Scott threw his pencil across the table. "It doesn't do any harm to talk to someone, Patty's no more a conspirator than I am."

"I know, Scott, but I touched her arm and that's what I felt. We both know that this is foolish, but that is how Teresa Zimmerman sees things."  Paul said.  "Aside from Fox, I have never encountered a human being who is so fanatical about anything.  Teresa is trying to keep these barriers around her daughter so that she will have the glory if her daughter is successful."

"That's stupid, she should let her daughter live her life." Scott's eyes brimmed with tears.  "We gotta help her, Dad.  Stephanie is a prisoner of her mother's desires, and I don't think it's fair."

Paul nodded, "I know, when I talked to her, Stephanie was more concerned about her mother's reaction than she was about her skating."

"Can someone really be so afraid of someone else like that?" Scott asked.

"You possess the same kind of fear with George Fox." Paul said.

"Yeah, but Dad, Fox has the government behind him.  This is a completely different situation than with Stephanie and her mother."  Scott argued.  "Besides, we have a real reason to be afraid of Fox, Stephanie shouldn't have to live petrified of her mother."

"You're right, but this is what I felt when I talked to Stephanie.  Whether it's right or wrong, this fear in her exists, and she has lost the courage to confront it."  Paul said.

"Yeah, but she's 12 years old, Dad.  Like Gilda said, we can't expect Stephanie to stand up to her mother like this."

"That may be true, but right now, Stephanie will have to, or else she's going to live her life imprisoned by her mother's desires," Paul said softly.  "When I spoke to her this afternoon, I realized that she believes that she is a prisoner and feels that she has no way out."

"Do you mean like an emotional or mental imprisonment, like being in a glass coffin like we were in at Building 11, but up here?" Scott asked, pointing to his head.

Paul nodded, "Yes, that's exactly what I mean, and the trouble is, Stephanie doesn't have your Uncle Wayne to come in and save her."

Paul looked down at the papers Scott had strewn on the table. He could tell by looking at Scott that his concentration had been disrupted by the conversation.  He decided that it wouldn't be wise to pressure his son about the homework right now.  He began to collect the papers, which were lying on the table, and began to stack them together.  Next he grabbed the schoolbooks off the table and stuffed them in the backpack his son carried when he went to school.

"Dad, I'm not finished," Scott glanced up, "I still have to finish the assignment."

"Don't worry about it tonight, Scott, you've got a lot on your mind," Paul answered.  "You can do it over the weekend."

Scott smiled weakly, "Thanks, Dad."  It wasn't very often that Paul didn't make him do an assignment for school.  Dad must be really concerned too, he thought.

Paul nodded and walked into the kitchen.

o O o

Scott arrived at the ice rink early Saturday morning.  After struggling through the school day and explaining to his teachers why he hadn't done his assignments, and getting an extension, he had gone home, finished the assignments and looked forward to the morning he'd have with Patty.  He hoped that something wouldn't ruin his morning with her, and he anticipated it as someone would a first date.

As he made his way towards the door, which would lead inside, he saw Brad's mini-van pull into the parking lot and watched as Patty got out. 

Upon seeing him, she smiled and waved.

He waved back and approached the mini-van.  "Hi, Patty.  Hi Brad."

"Good morning, Scott."  Brad offered from inside the van.  He made sure that Patty grabbed all of her things before he started the engine. "I'd stick around for awhile, but I've gotta go to the hardware store and pick up some things for the upstairs bathroom.  Your mom will be here at 2 to pick you up."

Patty nodded, "You've already told me that three or four times already, Daddy.  If she isn't here, then I will call a cab and see you later at home."

"If nobody's here, I'm sure my Dad can drive you," Scott offered.  "He got a job at the paper this morning.  It's not far from here, if Patty's mom isn't here, we can walk to the paper and meet my dad."

Patty nodded, "See, Daddy, you don't have to worry."

"It's my job to worry, you should know that by now."  Brad said with a good-natured grin.  "Have fun, kids, and I'll see you later."

Patty turned to Scott as her father drove away.  "My dad, he's trying to play plumber.  The sink in the upstairs bathroom has a drip, and he's gonna try and fix it."

"Do you think he can?"  Scott asked.

Patty shook her head, "I don't know, Mom and I have placed wages on whether or not he can.  If he can't then I win and she's gonna boy me this really pretty green skating costume for next season."  Patty grinned, "Actually, I hope he can, then I will have my own bathroom, since it's the one connected to my room. Right now I have to share a bathroom with Erika, and that's no fun."  She laughed good-naturedly, "Oh well, let's go inside, Gilda probably isn't here yet and we can get you a pair of skates and I need to warm up.  Gilda normally arrives 10 minutes or so after I arrive."

Scott nodded and followed her inside. 

"What size are you?"  She asked as she approached a counter.

"My tennis shoes are 10, I think."  Scott said.

Patty nodded and once she saw an older man approach the counter, she smiled at him.  "Good morning, Mr. Guthrie."

"Patty, how are you?"  The man broke into a huge grin upon seeing her.

"I'm fine, this is my friend, Scott, and he's going to train with me today, can he borrow a pair of size 10 skates?"  Patty asked.

The man's eyes fell on Scott, who was standing a few inches behind Patty.  He chuckled to himself, turned around, pulled a pair of skates from the shelf, and handed them to Scott.  "This is your first time skating, young man?"

Scott nodded.

"Then you might want to wear socks, sometimes beginners get bad blisters."

Scott nodded, "Yes, Sir."

Patty grinned at the man, "You always look out for everyone, Mr. Guthrie."

"Well, that's just because you're my darlin'."  The man began to laugh and Patty and Scott joined him.  "Oh yeah, I nearly forgot, Gilda called.  She said that she's going to be a few minutes late and you should do some warm up calisthenics, before you get on the ice.  Not like I should be telling you that."  The man smiled good-naturedly at Patty.

"You know me too well."  Patty said giggling.

The man nodded, "My wife and I have owned this rink for the last 18 years, and Patty is the only girl we've seen who has more ambition than her coach and parents combined."  He smiled fondly at the girl standing before him.  "Yes sir, talk about a nice family.  Martha, that's the missus, she's always talking about those nice Fischers and what a great group of people they are."

Patty Blushed.  "Mr. Guthrie, you are always bragging about that."

"Yeah, but it's the truth, Patty."  The man answered.

"I noticed that about them too," Scott said honestly.

Thomas Guthrie beamed, "See, even your friend is observant."

Patty giggled and Scott grinned noticing her modesty.  He decided to change the subject. "I saw the competition two days ago, and it was really great."

"Yes, the competition was one of the highlights of the season.  Usually this rink is used only for training."  Mr. Guthrie answered with a smile.  "But, they are renovating the rink where they usually have the competitions."

"How many people train here?"  Scott asked.

"About 10 girls in Patty's division, but we have over 60 who train here.  The others train at the rink across town," came the answer.

At that moment, a woman's voice was heard, and Mr. Guthrie smiled at the two of them, "Gotta go, my wife is calling me. Have fun you two."

The man turned and walked away from the counter, but not before Patty called out once again.  "OK, see you later, Mr. Guthrie."

Scott nodded towards the man and followed Patty to the stands.  Once there, he sat down, watched her lay her bag on the stands, and begin stretching.  "I have to warm up every time I skate.  That way I can do the triple jumps and stuff," she explained.

Scott nodded untied his tennis shoes and pulled them off.  He reached for one of the skates hesitantly and as he put one on, he spoke.  "I've never ice skated before in my life."

"Don't worry about it," she said as she continued stretching.

Scott continued watching her for a few minutes and after about 10 minutes; she sat down next to him and untied her tennis shoes.  Within seconds, she had her skates on and looked over at him as she tied the laces on her skates.  "Come on, we all have to start somewhere."

"How many pillows am I gonna need for my bottom, then?"  Scott grinned at her and attempted to stand up.

"Oh, come on, how can you say that if you've never tried?" She looked at him, and smiled.  "Come on, I'll show you how easy it is."

Scott stood up and hesitantly followed her to the edge of the ice.  "Where's the shallow end?"  He asked jokingly.

Patty laughed out loud, "You chicken, come on, it's fun."  She glided out onto the ice, and Scott followed, a little wobbly, but finally he managed to skate out onto the surface of the ice keeping his hands holding onto the railing of the rink.  His knuckles were gripped so tightly to the rail that his fingers were turning white. 

"This feels really different," Scott offered gritting his teeth and using his hands on the rail to push himself along the ice.   His hands refused to let go of the railing.

Patty skated over to him, "first of all, you have to let go of the rail, or you'll never get anywhere."  She reached out her hands to him and he accepted them.  As their hands touched, he gulped as she pulled him away from the railing and into the center of the rink.  She released his hands and skated away from him.  He was left standing alone in the middle, not knowing what to do next.  "Come here, Scott," she called out to him.

"How?"  Scott asked.

"Use your feet.  Instead of taking off using the rail, you have to use your feet, one in front of the other."  Patty demonstrated what she meant by gliding across the ice, one foot in front of the other.

Scott started by walking slowly towards her, but his first attempt caused him to fall backwards and he fell on his rear end.  "You said I didn't need any pillows for this, but I think you're wrong."  He rubbed his bottom and looked over at her, "how do I get up?"

Patty started giggling uncontrollably when she turned around and saw Scott still sitting on the ice. "Use your hands to push yourself back on your feet."

Scott nodded, and did as she instructed.

Once he was back on his feet, Patty called out to him.  "Now, try again, and this time, don't take such choppy steps.  Pretend like you're intentionally shuffling your feet across a carpet so you can shock your dad with the static electricity."

Scott nodded and tried it like she said, and was surprised when he reached the railing without falling.  "Wow, cool."

Patty nodded.  "Actually, some say it's much easier to skate backwards than it is to skate forwards.  It's just harder to learn."

"One thing at a time, thank you."  Scott laughed.

Seconds later, a voice called out, "Good morning, you two."

Patty turned around, "Gilda.  I got your message."

Gilda sat down in the stands and started taking her tennis shoes off.  "I figured.  How are you, Scott?"

Scott nodded, "fine, I think."

Gilda continued to put her skates on as the two teenagers clowned around on the ice.  Once she was finished, she skated over towards where Patty and Scott were.  "OK, enough monkey business, you two.  It's time to get to work.  Did you do your warm-up, Patty?"

Patty nodded and grinned at Gilda, "What should I be working on today?"

"We need to do a lot of polishing up of your program to get you ready for the regional competition.  We only have a month until then, and you should try to replace the double loop at the beginning with a Triple Loop, or at the very least, a triple Toe loop," Gilda said.

Scott listened attentively hoping that Gilda would explain the distinguishing characteristics of each jump.  When she didn't, he finally asked, "I don't understand, what's the difference between a Salchow and a toe loop?"

Gilda turned to Scott, and smiled.  "All jumps are determined by the take off.  A Salchow's take off is from the backward inside edge of the blade."  She positioned her foot on the ice; in the manner that one would in order to execute the jump.  "Your take off foot has to be on the ice in this position, to execute the Salchow."  Her attention diverted to Patty.  "Patty, show us a double Salchow."

Scott watched as Patty executed the jump taking off from one leg, and landing on the other.  Once she landed the jump, she skated over to her coach. 

"Very good, this is one of her best jumps, but of the six jumps, it's also one of the easiest."  Gilda explained.  "When I give the word, do a double toe loop."

Patty nodded as Gilda began to speak again, "OK, Scott, the toe loop is actually a variation of the loop.  But, let me explain the loop first.  In executing the loop, a skater has to start the jump on same foot they land on.  The toe loop is much easier because a skater would take off from the toe of the skate, thus the name."  Gilda glanced over at Patty and nodded. 

Patty executed the jump.

"Now, I want you to do a triple toe loop," Gilda called out.

Patty nodded and after a few seconds attempted the jump.  This jump, she landed on both feet.  "Sorry, Gilda, that one didn't come out so good."

"Yeah, you double footed the landing.  Concentrate, and make sure you get a good take off and height in the jump."  Gilda called out.  "Try again."

Patty skated around the rink in order to get momentum and attempted the jump again, this time she landed it perfectly.

"Did you see the difference between the two jumps?"  Gilda asked Scott.

Scott nodded, "Yeah, since I was paying particular attention. But, how do the people on TV know what moves a skater is going to make when they are moderating events?"

"You mean in the seniors competitions?"  Gilda asked.

"Yeah," Scott answered.

"They get a list of the routine as to what jumps will be executed.  Also in the short program, a skater has to execute certain jumps, and if they miss it, or fall, they don't get a second chance to do it."  Gilda said, "When I performed, I missed the double Axel in the short program, and then messed up the triple loop and after that I was so distracted, I fell during the footwork in the long program.  That's why I finished near the end."

"An Axel?"  Scott asked.

Gilda nodded, "Yes, it's one of the more difficult jumps, because there is an additional half turn so that the skater can land going backwards.  Not to mention you have to take off from a forward edge."

"Can you do one now?"  Scott asked.

"OK, hold this," Gilda handed Scott her clipboard, and skated away from him.  She executed the jump and landed successfully. She skated back over to Scott.  "Did you see the difference?"

"I think so," Scott answered.

Gilda looked over at Patty, who was skating around the rink. "Patty, why don't you show us a double Axel?"

Patty nodded and once she got the momentum she needed, she executed the jump and smiled when she landed it.

"Very good," Gilda said when Patty skated back over to them. "Why don't you try a triple Salchow, Patty?"

She nodded and skated away from them and attempted the jump. During the third revolution she landed on the ice and lost her balance and fell on her bottom.

Scott laughed, and clumsily made his way over to his friend, "Maybe you're the one who needs the pillow."

Patty burst out laughing, and it took a couple of seconds for her to get up off the ice from the hysterical giggling that overcame her.

"I think I missed the joke," Gilda said skating over to the two of them.  "You weren't concentrating, that's supposed to be one of your better jumps.  Why don't you try again?"

Patty nodded, "OK."  She skated around the rink, but as she looked up, she saw some movement over by the entrance of the rink.  Her smile disappeared when she recognized whom it was that had come in.  Rather than attempting the jump, she skated back over to where her coach and Scott were standing.  "Hey, isn't that Stephanie's coach?"

Gilda looked up and nodded, "Yeah, that's Jake McCall, but I wonder what he's doing here.  Usually he and Stephanie are here during the afternoons."

Scott looked up and saw the man.  "Yeah, I saw him here on Thursday."

Gilda nodded, "Listen, I'm going to go over and see what is going on.  He wouldn't normally show up at this time here unless he had to cancel a student's training for the day."  She laid her clipboard on the railing and skated away from the two teenagers. "I'll be right back, Patty why don't you explain to Scott the Flip and the Lutz?"  Gilda said as she made her way towards the edge of the rink so she could talk to the other coach.

Scott looked at Patty, "I wonder what's going on."

Patty sighed deeply, "I have no idea.  Do you think something's wrong?"

Scott shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know."

"Oh well, let me explain the other two jumps, and then when Gilda comes back over, we can ask her about it."  Patty said.  "A Flip is done from an inside edge with the toe pick in the ice to help with taking off.  My dad called it a Pole Vault on ice, actually.  Let me show you."  Patty dug the toe pick of her skate into the ice.

Scott nodded, "It's a little bit complicating, why don't you do the jump, and let me just watch how it looks?"

"OK," Patty skated away from him and executed a double Flip.

When she skated back over to him, "Did you see what I did?"

"Yeah," Scott answered.

"The Lutz is like the Flip, the only difference is the take off is from the outside edge.  The jump is really difficult.  The triple Lutz, I can't do without biting it.  It's the hardest triple jump aside from the Axel, which most senior women can't land anyway, so I don't stress about it.  The triple Lutz is really hard, but I can show you a double Lutz, I can land them pretty well."

"OK," Scott said.

Patty nodded, and skated off to execute the jump.  Once she did it and two footed the landing, she skated back over to him. "That one wasn't good, I wasn't concentrating and I two footed the landing, but you get an idea about how the jump takes off."

"Two footing, I heard Gilda use that term, does that mean that you land on both feet?" Scott asked.

Patty nodded, "exactly. In competition, if you land a jump on two feet, then you lose points.  When I did the triple toe loop earlier, I had to do it again because I landed on both feet."

"Thanks for explaining that," Scott offered glancing over to see if Gilda was going to be returning to them in a few moments. 

Finally after some time passed, he could see Gilda skating over to them.

The first thing that Scott noticed was that Gilda's usually happy face looked troubled.  "What happened, Gilda?"  Scott and Patty asked almost simultaneously.

"We have to stop training early today.  The Guthries said they are going to close the rink for the rest of the day."  Gilda said softly.

"Does this have anything to do with Stephy's coach showing up here?"  Patty asked.

Gilda nodded, "I'm afraid it does."  The woman looked at Patty sadly, how could she even begin to explain what she had learned? She sighed deeply, and finally the words came out, "Jake came by to cancel her training for an indefinite period of time.  Patty, Stephanie tried to kill herself last night."  Gilda said, "Teresa Zimmerman called Jake this morning in hysterics and told him that Stephanie had been taken to the hospital."

"What!?"  Patty's eyes widened.   "That can't be true, not Stephy."  She looked into the sad eyes of her coach and back at Scott.  When Gilda's gaze didn't falter, Patty knew it must be true.  She covered her face in her hands and began to cry. 

Scott was still standing next to her, and he wrapped his arms around her. "What exactly happened, Gilda?"  Scott asked as Patty continued to cry on his shoulder.

"Teresa said that she had gone into Stephanie's room this morning to wake her up and found a bottle of sleeping pills by the bed.  According to Teresa, she shook Stephanie a few times in hopes of waking her up, but Stephanie was unconscious, though still breathing.  She called 911 and the ambulance came and picked her up and took her to the hospital. At the hospital, she called Jake, and he came here to tell the Guthries."  Gilda said softly.  "Jake just left for the hospital and I'll be going there as well.  You two can come, but if you do, we need to contact your parents."

Scott nodded numbly.  Patty was still crying, though by this time, she was no longer holding onto him.  She sniffed and wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand. 

"I'm sorry, Patty," Gilda said, "I knew that this would be hard to tell you, but I had to let you know.  I don't think you would have forgiven me if I hadn't been honest with you about this. I realized long ago that you wanted everything to be like it used to be, and I wish I could make it that way."

Patty nodded, "I want to go with you," were the only words to emerge.

"OK, and I'm going to call your parents and they can meet us there."  Gilda said. She turned to face Scott. "Stay with her, Scott, she needs your friendship."  She sighed once again.  "Do you want to come to the hospital with us?"

"I think I should, Gilda.  But I was wondering, can you call my dad and tell him, so he can meet us there too?"  He asked.

The coach nodded.

"He's been working this morning at the paper but he can probably get away."  Scott attempted to explain.

Gilda nodded reaching for the clipboard, and grabbing a pencil, "give me his name and the number where he can be reached."

Scott did, and once she had the number written down, she skated away from the two of them and over towards the railing. Once she disappeared through the hallway, Scott wrapped his arm around Patty's shoulder and clumsily led her towards the edge of the ice.

I'm so glad that we're still here, he thought to himself as he glanced over at Patty and saw that she carried an agonized look on her face.  Finally, he spoke trying to comfort her, "Everything is going to be OK, Patty."

She nodded numbly and allowed him to help her sit down once they reached the stands. Scott sat down next to her and began to untie the laces on his skates. She was still sitting motionless next to him and once Scott had his tennis shoes on, he glanced over to see that she was still sitting next to him still wearing her skates.  He finally reached over and untied the laces on her skates and removed them from her feet.  He opened her bag and gently laid the skates inside.  Once her skates were in the bag, she reached over and began to put on her tennis shoes.

Scott looked over at Patty as she sat with her head still in her hands.  "I'll be right back, Patty, I have to return these to Mr. Guthrie."  She nodded as he grabbed the skates and returned to the counter.

"Is she OK?"  Mr. Guthrie asked accepting the skates.

"She's taking the news pretty hard," Scott answered honestly.

"I suspected that she would, she and Stephanie used to be really good friends, before..." his voice trailed.

"...Before her mother got involved and started dictating who she could be friends with." Scott completed bitterly.  He sighed deeply, he was glad that his father wasn't there to hear that outburst, because he probably would have gotten that usual silencing look from him.

"Far be it from me to judge anything Mrs. Zimmerman has done, but when you're right, you're right."  Mr. Guthrie sat the skates on a shelf, and spoke again, "Go back to Patty, though, she needs you."

Scott nodded and walked numbly back over to the stands where Patty was still sitting.  She was slumped over and still holding one of her tennis shoes, which she hadn't put on yet. 

Scott put his hands on her shoulders, he wished that he could find the right words to say to Patty that would help her, but he didn't know, and his own sadness about Stephanie made him wish that his father was there.  He always had a way of making things better.

As Gilda was making her way back over towards them, Patty had managed to get her other shoe back on.  "Your father is on his way to the hospital, Scott, he's going to meet us there.  Your parents are also on their way, Patty.  I told them that I would drive you there."  Gilda grabbed Patty's duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder.  "Let's get going, the Guthries have to lock up and they will be meeting us there as well."

The two teenagers nodded and followed the young woman.  Before they exited, Scott looked back towards the rink as a shiver cursed through him.  To think that before this week, I thought it was all show, he thought glumly.  The dramatic turn of events had left him in shock, and when he glanced over and saw the pale features of Patty Fischer, he had a feeling that the same thoughts were cursing through her mind as well.

o O o

A half an hour later, Patty, Scott and Gilda arrived at the hospital.  The white walls, and the people wearing white everywhere he went, reminded Scott of the time his father laid in a coma and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat, trying to block out the uneasy memory.  After walking through the corridor, they found a cheerful, orange painted room, and walked inside. 

Upon entering the large waiting room, Patty broke away from Scott when she saw her father standing in the waiting room.  She began to cry once again and rushed into his arms, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she sought the comfort of her father. 

Scott sat down in a chair next to Gilda, "you said on Thursday that Stephanie was working on a nervous breakdown, but who would have thought?"

Gilda spoke softly, "I know, in this case, I wish I had been wrong."

Scott nodded.  "This all seems like a really bad dream."

She sighed deeply and nodded, "Or a really bad Soap Opera."

Scott didn't answer.  Instead he looked towards the entrance of the waiting area, and saw his father coming in.  Paul approached Scott and Gilda and sat down next to his son.  "I came as quickly as I could."  He paused addressing the woman sitting next to him,  "Are you Gilda?"

She nodded.

"Thank you for bringing Scott here, and for calling me," Paul said softly.  "I appreciate it, and it's nice to meet you."

Gilda nodded once again, "Likewise, but not under these circumstances."

Paul nodded in affirmation.

After about 15 minutes, Thomas and Mabel Guthrie arrived followed by Jake McCall.  "The doctor is speaking with Mrs. Zimmerman right now," he informed the group assembled. As soon as I find out anything, I'll let you know.  I wish Stephanie had a chance to know what good friends she has." 

The others assembled in the room nodded, each one consumed with their own thoughts about the entire situation.

He glanced over at Paul and Scott and when he didn't recognize them, he looked over at Gilda a question in his eyes. "Paul and Scott met Stephanie at the competition on Thursday," she offered.

Jake nodded and walked over to shake hands with Paul and Scott.  "Jake McCall, Stephanie's coach.  I'm really surprised to see someone who doesn't know Stephy very well here, but I think you being here is very nice, Mr.  uhhh."

Paul stood up and offered his hand, "Paul Forrester."

Jake nodded and sat down.

Patty was still sitting next to her parents when Teresa Zimmerman walked into the waiting room.  Her sad expression turned to that of anger when her eyes landed Patty and her parents who were seated in the corner of the room.  An uncomfortable silence loomed in the air as she spoke, her eyes blazing.  "How dare you show up here?  Haven't you done enough? If it weren't for you, my daughter would be OK."

Patty looked up, her face covered with tears as the mother of her friend yelled at her.  Patty sat in shock for some moments and finally the tears began to once again begin to stream down her face.  She reached over and sought the hug from her mother who was seated next to her.

Mandy patted her daughter's shoulder and glowered at the other woman.  The anger was evident in her eyes, but she realized that if she had been in the other woman's position, she wouldn't be able to deal with someone yelling at her any better than Teresa was doing.  It angered her to see the woman taking her anger out at her daughter.  Mandy looked at her daughter, "It's not your fault," she whispered to Patty.  "Mrs. Zimmerman is just angry, and doesn't realize what she's saying."

Patty nodded at her mother but remained in her arms.

Scott, however didn't think that way, and he looked up. "You have no right to accuse Patty of this, she's been nothing but a good friend to Stephanie."

Paul's hand came to rest on his son's shoulder.  "Shhh, Scott.  Calm down." The light pressure on his shoulder caused Scott's anger to dissipate slightly.  Paul looked over at Patty who was still wrapped in her mother's arms, back at his son, and finally over at Teresa and  who was sitting alone.  Finally, he asked a question of his own.  "Why are you angry at Patty?  She did nothing to harm your daughter." 

Teresa Zimmerman looked at Paul, "It's her fault that my daughter's here!"

This time Brad stood up. "How dare you blame my child for this?  She didn't cause Stephanie to try to kill herself.  If anyone did,  it's you, your damn arrogance and high expectations of her, which did this.  Couldn't you see that Stephanie isn't happy anymore?"

"Brad!"  Mandy spoke up, "No..."  her voice trailed off as another voice was heard.

"Do you really believe that it's Patty's fault that your daughter did this to herself?"  Gilda asked, defending Patty.  "I trained Stephanie for a year before Jake became her coach, and of all the girls I have worked with, not one of them was as petrified of her mother as she was of you."

Teresa glanced over at Jake who could do nothing but nod slightly.

Paul watched the events take place curiously.  Finally, he stood up and approached Teresa Zimmerman.  "Please no more hurtful words, we're all here for Stephanie, not to place blame."  He placed his hand on Teresa's shoulder sympathetically.  After a second passed, he removed his hand from her shoulder, and sat down in a chair near her.

Patty wiped her moist eyes, "You're right."   She crawled out of her chair and walked over to where Teresa was sitting.  Her eyes were soft as she addressed the woman, "Mrs. Zimmerman, I'm sorry this happened, but Stephy is my friend, and I care about what happens to her.  My dad is defending me where I cannot.  If you hate me, fine, but one day, I hope you realize that I am her friend and she is mine and your controlling isn't going to change that."

Teresa looked up to see the young girl speaking to her.  She closed her eyes, and when she finally opened them, she spoke, her voice angry and hurt. "Just go away.  Get out of my sight." 

Patty looked up and made eye contact with Paul who was sitting opposite of where she was, his eyes were shadowed with concern for her.  She sighed deeply and stood up.  Patty wanted to break down and cry, but she knew that she couldn't cry in the presence of Stephanie's mother.  She finally walked slowly out of the room, and closed the door.   Her head was down as she walked and her eyes staring at the white tiles of the hallway floor.

Scott's eyes followed Patty's movements, and he stood up. "I've gotta go to her, Dad, she needs a friend."  Scott whispered to his father as he walked by.  The truth was he couldn't stand to stay in the room for another minute.  Not when Patty was alone and coping with her grief about Stephanie.  He smiled reassuringly at Patty's parents, and opened the door and walked out into the hallway. 

Back inside the room, Paul looked over at Teresa who was sitting alone.  He finally came over to where she was sitting and sat down next to her.  His hands came to rest on her shoulders once again and she looked up at him.  The iciness, which was usually prevalent in her eyes, was replaced by a look of hopelessness.  "Teresa," he said purposefully calling her by her first name.  "I know you're hurt, I can see it in your eyes, but these people are all here because they care about Stephanie as much as you do."

"They couldn't possibly understand.  She's my whole life," Teresa's eyes brimmed with tears.  "Everything I ever did, I did because I love her."

"I know,"  Paul said softly. 

The other people in the room watched as Paul wrapped his arms around her and held her in his embrace.  Jake McCall looked over at Gilda, his eyes wide.  "I never thought in a million years that I would ever witness her hugging anyone," he muttered to Gilda.

The woman smiled weakly and placed her finger over her lips.

o O o

Outside in the hall, Patty was aimlessly wandering through the corridor.  Finally, she stopped and leaned up against the wall. The tears she had held back in the waiting room were now streaming down her cheeks. 

Seconds passed and she felt a hand on her shoulder.  She looked up to see Scott standing beside her.  "You look like you could use a friend."

She looked up and nodded allowing him to lead her down the hall.  When they reached the front door, which would lead outside, she felt the warm sunshine on her face.  Once they made their way across the street to a park, she finally spoke. "You know, I guess I knew for a long time that Stephanie would eventually break down, but I never thought in my life that things would happen like this."

Scott nodded, "I know," he said softly.  "I don't think anyone really knew."  He dug into his pocket and pulled out his sphere, how he wished he could do something with it to help Stephanie, but he knew he couldn't.  He rolled the object around in his hand for a few moments and finally he looked up and met Patty's curious gaze. 

"What is that thing?  It looks like a marble."  she asked.

Scott held up the sphere, "it's a good luck charm," he said. "My dad gave it to me."  He returned the object to his pocket and didn't say anything else about it.

"I guess we used up all our good luck, huh?" she asked softly, tears welling up in her eyes once more.

Scott wrapped his arms around her once again trying to offer her some sort of comfort.  "Maybe not," he replied looking deeply into her eyes.

Patty looked at him.  Although they were both worried, Patty couldn't help but feel attracted to him and she had felt that way about him from the first moment she had seen him.  He was always so nice to her, and when he spoke to her there was kindness in his words and comfort when he hugged her.   She could still see his gentle brown eyes even though she was still wrapped in his arms.  It came as no surprise to her that even after she had stopped crying, she didn't have any desire to end the embrace with him.

Patty sighed deeply once their embrace ended. "Do you think she'll be OK, Scott?"

Scott shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know."

Patty sighed, "You really like her, don't you?"

"She's nice," he answered honestly, wondering why she had asked.  His eyes met hers and he could see something in her eyes, but he didn't know what it was.  Rather than try to analyze it, he spoke again, "but, I've only met her once." He didn't even know why he had said that, but he concluded that it was simply the right thing to say.

Patty nodded, "yeah," was all she was able to say.  She looked away feeling shyness overwhelm her.  She looked away after a minute, and her attention was drawn to the flowers, and statues, which were scattered throughout the area, and she could see other people walking around the park.  Finally, she looked back over at him, waiting for him to break the silence.

"What's on your mind?"  he asked softly.

"I'm scared,"  she whispered feeling somewhat ashamed that it wasn't completely about Stephanie, but rather herself and the mixed up feelings she was beginning to have for him.

"Stephanie's gonna be OK, you gotta believe that."  Scott offered somewhat weakly backing self-consciously away from her. She was so vulnerable and he didn't want to take advantage of her.

For some reason, his mind had also returned to San Leon and Kelly Jordan, the girl that he had met at school there.  He remembered how he started to love her, then how Fox showed up, and they had to leave.  He never had the opportunity to explain why they had suddenly had left.  He knew that he had hurt her, and now, seeing Patty sitting next to him, he began to worry whether or not he could allow himself to feel something for another girl with the fear of Fox looming over his head.

"Did I say something wrong?"  Patty's voice broke into his thoughts.  She had seen his expression suddenly change and she didn't understand why he had backed away from her. 

"Oh, Patty, you didn't.  I just have a lot on my mind,"  Scott offered weakly moving closer to her once again.

"Stephanie?"  She asked.

Scott nodded, "I have other things on my mind, too. But yeah, I'm wondering how she is doing and if the doctor had said anything."

"Should we go back inside?"  Patty asked.

Scott shrugged his shoulders, "I guess, but I don't really want to.  I hated seeing Mrs. Zimmerman verbally abuse you in there.  I'm afraid that she might do it again and I'd say something I'd regret."

"Really?  You'd look out for me?"  Patty asked.

Scott nodded, "Yeah."

"Actually, I didn't really notice anything in there, except that she blamed me for what happened with Stephanie."  Patty said trying to block the tears.  "I guess I'm used to hearing her screaming at someone.  But, I never imagined that she'd scream at me.  Added to that, she said that I was at fault.  I don't believe it, but it does hurt.  I just don't have the ability to scream back."

Scott nodded and sighed deeply.  "It hurts me to see you in pain."

"Really?"  Patty asked.

Scott nodded. "Yeah, it really bothered me that she was accusing you of what happened when you have done everything you could do to have a friendship with Stephanie.  Her attitude towards you is a complete mystery to me."

Patty nodded.  "I know, and then when you wanted to talk to Stephanie, she dragged her away from you.  I guess from the start you have liked Stephanie, and now you're only here to see how she's doing."

Scott looked over at her, surprise shadowing his features. "Do you think I'm just here for Stephanie?  I'm not, I'm here for you as well.  I mean, yeah, I like Stephanie, but I also like you, and you're my friend."  He reached over and took her hand in his. 

She leaned over against him and rested her head against his chest.  "Thanks, that means a lot to me.  I've never really had very many friends who weren't involved in skating.  I guess I have missed out on a lot of things, but I have to admit, if it hadn't have been for the skating, then I probably wouldn't have met you."

Scott smiled at her and wrapped his arms once more around her. He knew he couldn't tell her with words how he felt about her, but he could show her that she was special to him.  His hands ran across her hair, and came to rest against her face.  Finally, his mouth came down and his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss.

Patty wrapped her arms around him as he kissed her.  In her grief over Stephanie, she somehow felt a small sense of happiness in Scott's arms.  When the kiss ended, the two of them stood up, and Patty reached out and grasped Scott's hand.   Together, they walked back across the street, into the hospital, and back down the corridor, which would lead back to the waiting room. 

When they walked in, Brad came over to Patty, "Are you OK, Honey?"

Patty nodded, her hand still holding onto Scott's, "Yeah, I'm fine."  She glanced over and when she noticed that Teresa Zimmerman was gone she looked at her father,  "Where's Mrs. Zimmerman?"

"The doctor called her into his office a few minutes ago." Mandy said softly.   

"Did he say anything about how Stephy's doing?"  Patty asked.

Brad shook his head, "No, since we're not family, we're not allowed into his office during consultations."

"Don't worry, Patty," Paul offered, "She'll tell us when she comes back." 

Scott nodded, somehow hearing his father say that indicated that it must be the truth.

"Will we have the chance to see her?"  Patty asked.

"That depends on Stephanie's mother.  The doctor said that as long as Mrs. Zimmerman agrees, we'd be able to see her."  Brad said.  "But, none of us really know if she's going to agree to allowing us in the room."

"Doesn't sound too likely,"  Mandy offered, "I'm sorry, Honey."

Patty nodded, and she and Scott went to sit down as Teresa Zimmerman walked slowly into the room. 

The woman looked pale and weak.  She held in her hand a fistful of wadded up tissues.  Numbly, she walked over to a chair, which was in the corner and collapsed in it, crying.  

Paul was next to her within seconds, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, "What is it, Teresa?"

The woman looked up with tears in her eyes, "The doctor said that he believes Stephanie doesn't want to wake up.  He said that he thinks she has lost her will to live."

Gilda looked over at Jake, who sighed deeply.  Few words were spoken, each person sat with his or her own thoughts.  Patty continued to hold onto Scott's hand, and finally after some time passed, Paul's voice could be heard.

Paul was still sitting next to Teresa and he looked deeply into her eyes, "Teresa, please, allow me to see her.  We talked on Thursday at the competition, maybe I can help."

Teresa shook her head, "No, I don't think anyone can help her."

"Mrs. Zimmerman, please, let my dad at least try to talk to her,"  Scott pleaded. "I mean it wouldn't hurt."  He knew what he father was going to try to do, and though he didn't always agree with Paul's willingness to expose them, Scott know that this was one time that he was grateful that his father had made this choice.

"But, I'm her mother.  I should be closer to her than anyone else, I should be able to get through to her."  Teresa mumbled as the tears began to stream down her cheeks once again.

Scott looked at Patty, "We have to get my dad in that room," he muttered to her.

"Why?"  Patty whispered.

"I can't explain, but I think my dad can help her,"  Scott answered, "Please, you gotta trust me.  My dad has a way with words that most people don't."

"I don't understand, Scott,"  Patty said in hushed tones, "but, I'll do as you have suggested."  Scott nodded as he watched her stand up and walked towards the distraught woman.  "Mrs. Zimmerman, please, at least let one of us in to see her.  No one can go through life with only his or her mother, they need other people too.  I mean, I love my mom very much, but I can't see only having her support anymore than she can expect all her strength to come from me."  Patty's defenses broke down, and she began to sob uncontrollably. 

Mandy looked on, as her daughter spoke.  Her hand reached up and she wiped a stray tear from her eyes.  When her eyes met those of her husband, he smiled at her encouragingly.  It was easy to tell, both of them were enormously proud of their daughter.

Scott started to walk over to Patty, but before he reached Teresa, her tearstained gaze looked up and she was looking at Patty as she cried.  He stopped and watched. The others in the room held their breath as Teresa Zimmerman's eyes met Patty's. Upon seeing the girl's tearstained face, she sighed deeply and she looked around the room.

Teresa's words were barely above a whisper, but her words emerged and she pointed to Paul, "I don't believe you can do anything to help her any better than I can, but I'll tell the doctor and you can go into her room.  But no one else."

Patty looked at Teresa, "Thank you." 

Paul walked over towards Patty and his hand came to rest on her shoulder.  She looked up, the tears were still streaming down her face, but as she met his gaze, she realized that of all the people in the room, she believed that Paul had the ability to reach Stephanie, though she couldn't really explain why.

o O o

Twenty minutes later, Paul had obtained permission from the doctor to enter Stephanie's room.  He was about to leave the waiting room when his son came over to him.  "Dad, what are you going to do?"  Scott asked urgently, keeping his voice low.

Paul shrugged his shoulders, "I don't really know.  I thought maybe I could use the sphere and try to communicate with her. Stephanie seemed to want to talk to me the other day, and I figured that I would see if she had the ability to project thoughts when she's asleep."

"Do you think it'll work?"  Scott asked.

Paul shook his head, "I'm not sure.  The doctor had spoken the truth, the only way I can do anything is to convince her that life is worth living, and try to encourage her to come back to us."  Paul sighed deeply, "I don't even know if using the sphere will work, but I have to try."

"You're going to try, no one can ask for more,"  Scott smiled at his father.  He wasn't sure what Paul could do either, but he had a lot of faith in him. "Hey Dad, tell Stephanie  that Patty and I are thinking about her."

Paul nodded and once again the doctor entered the room.  He motioned to Paul, and once he stood up, the doctor led him from the room.  Paul followed the doctor down the corridor and to the elevator.  Once upstairs, he was wordlessly led to Stephanie's room.  As he walked slowly into the room, the doctor closed the door behind him, and he approached the bed.  A shiver surged through him as he remembered how he could have died in a hospital similar to this one if his son hadn't been insistent on him trusting a human doctor to help him. 

He looked over and saw the still figure of a girl lying on a hospital bed.  His gaze fell on the instruments, which were set-up alongside the bed.  He shuddered when he saw the IV in her arm.  He remembered when he and Scott had been captured and how the government doctors would give him shots, and take blood from him.  Trying to forget, he diverted his attention to the heart monitor, which he could hear beeping as it, monitored her heart rate.  Finally, his gaze fell back on her. Although she was unhappy two days before, she was now only a mere shadow of the girl he had met.  Her face was ghostly white and her eyes were closed.  He sat down in the chair, which was placed by the bed. 

He knew that he only had 10 minutes with her, and he quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his sphere.  Maybe through this he could actually talk to her rather than just sense the emotions he felt when he touched her. 

Paul sighed deeply, he knew that by doing this, he would most likely be exposing himself to her, but he also realized that if he did not, then this girl would most likely die before she had even began to experience what good there was in life, and what it had to offer.

Sighing deeply, he placed the sphere in her hand, and began to concentrate on it.  Once the room was bathed in blue light, he began projecting thoughts to her.  Stephanie, can you hear me?

Yes, came the projection back to him.  Who are you?

It's Paul, I'm using an object from my home to talk to you, don't be afraid. 

Your home?  her projection came back sensing that she was afraid.

Paul projected his home to her in very much the same way he had done with Julie Radin.  He repeated telling her that she shouldn't be afraid of him because he was there to help her.

Stephanie remained still in the bed, but Paul received another message from her and he smiled weakly.  Is this a dream?

Maybe, he answered, but then he asked her a question of his own. Do you want to come back to us?

No, was the one word answer.

Tell me why, maybe I can help.  Paul continued projecting his thoughts.  He was so immersed in his conversation with her that he didn't notice the door had opened and closed.

Teresa Zimmerman had entered the room and when she saw the blue light emitting from her daughter's hand, she gasped and backed up against the closed door. "Oh my God!"

Paul looked up quickly.  Upon seeing Teresa standing against the closed door, a frightened look on her face, he sent one final projection before the blue light disappeared.  Stephanie, Your mother is here.  He stood up and removed the sphere from Stephanie's hand, and looked up at the woman standing by the door.

"Don't be afraid, Teresa, I'm only trying to talk to your daughter." Paul said gently as the woman pushed against the door, and attempted to get out of the room.  He pointed to the door, it clicked twice, and locked them in the room.  He stood up and took a couple of steps towards her. 

"Who are you?"  She asked, the fear in her voice causing him to stop.

"A friend, Teresa,"  Paul answered still holding the sphere in his hand.

She shook her hand still backed up against the door, "Please leave my daughter alone.  She's just a child."  She sank to her knees and looked up at him, horror in her eyes as she saw him still standing next to Stephanie's bed.

"Teresa, I have no intention of harming either you or her." Paul extended his hand towards her.  "Come over here and sit down," he instructed, standing up and moving to the opposite side of the bed. 

Slowly, she stood up, approached the bed, sat down, and grabbed Stephanie's hand.

 Paul reached across the bed for her hand.  He was still holding the sphere in his other hand,  and once held her hand in his, he placed it in the palm of her hand.  "Look me in the eyes."  He said softly as he cupped his hand under hers.

She slowly glanced up as he instructed and her eyes met his.  Seconds passed, as he concentrated on the sphere in her hand. Upon seeing the blue light emitting from her hand, she started to pull her hand away, but he held it still with his own.  After a few moments, she relaxed and when the light disappeared, she could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?  Are you still afraid?"  Paul asked.

Teresa shook her head, "No, I'm just so terribly confused."

"Why,"  Paul answered.

"Brad Fischer said that I was the reason Stephanie tried to do this to herself.  Do you think that's true?"  Teresa asked.  "I don't know if he said that in defense of Patty or if he said it because it might be true."

"I don't really know, that's why I tried using this to communicate with Stephanie.  I thought that if I was able to talk to her, she would tell me why she did this," he held the sphere in his hand.  "But, I have to hurry, there's not much time left. The doctor will be back soon." 

Teresa nodded, "Then, you're really able to communicate telepathically?"

Paul nodded, "Yes."

"Who are you? I mean what are you?"  Teresa asked, her eyes wide. "I know from what I've seen you do, you're not from here, I mean, you're from up there somewhere, aren't you?"

Paul nodded slowly once again.  "I'm a friend," he repeated.

"And you want to help Stephanie?"  Teresa's voice cracked.

"Yes," he affirmed.

"Why?"  she couldn't help but ask.

"Because where I come from, all life is special and has merit.  I have accepted that if something is within my power to fix, then I have to do so."  Paul said softly.

"So you really wouldn't hurt anyone, even though you have the power to?"  she asked.

"No,"  Paul replied, "I couldn't."  He said nothing more, instead, he gently laid the sphere back in Stephanie's hand, cupped his hand under hers, and concentrated until the room was once more bathed in light.  He immediately began projecting to the girl.  Your mother is here, and she wants to do what she can to make you happy.  Tell me what you want her to do.

I want to be friends with Patty Fischer without her telling me I can't, was the projection that came back to Paul and he repeated the words to Teresa.

Teresa nodded numbly, not daring to say a word. She knew that if she did, that she would probably break down and cry.

What else do you want her to know?  Do you want to quit skating?

I don't know.  I don't like being her marionette.  If I skate, it would have to be because I want to, not because I have to be her molded ice princess.  I used to like skating, and it was when Patty and I could practice together.  If I continue, it would be only if Patty and I could train together.  The projection came back so quickly that after some seconds, Paul relayed the words to Teresa before Stephanie's projections continued.

I have spent my entire life doing everyone else's bidding, and now I just want to be myself.  I did this because I lost hope of ever having real friends. I have always envied Patty because she skates, but she also gets to do normal things that other teenagers do.  I'm afraid to go on living because I think that my life will continue to be encompassed in something I don't feel gratification for.  Right now, I am more afraid of my mother than anyone else and that shouldn't be the case. The projections stopped. 

Do you want me to tell your mother that?  Paul projected.

Yes, was all that came to him.

Paul repeated Stephanie's projection for Teresa exactly as it had been told to him.    Teresa nodded numbly.  She was still somewhat fearful of the unbelievable events she had witnessed. The feelings that were going through her finally became verbal as she looked over at Paul who was still concentrating on the sphere. Finally, her soft voice could be heard above the sound of the sphere.  "How can you do this to me?" 

"I have done nothing to you.  These are the words from your daughter.  It is now up to you to talk to her.  There is a choice here, you can either continue ignoring her wishes, and risk losing her, or you can listen to what she has said here.  You may not believe that Stephanie has said these things, and that's your option, but I can do nothing more."  Paul disconnected from the sphere and the light disappeared.  He reached over and took the object out of Stephanie's hand.  "I have explained everything to you about myself, and I ask that you please keep it to yourself. Being here has put my life and the life of my son in danger.  My first priority is to protect him from those who wish to do us harm."

"Scott's really your son?"  Teresa asked.

Paul nodded.  "Yes, but like all children, he's half like his mother.  We're trying to find her now, and that is one of the things keeps us going from place to place.  The other thing is a man from the government knows I am here, and has been after us since I returned about a year ago." 

"I won't tell anyone about what you did here." Teresa said, her voice barely above a whisper.  "No one would believe me anyway.  I don't and I saw it."

"Thank you," he paused looking down at Stephanie as she slept. "I think you should talk to your daughter, now.  She can hear us and will be able to understand you."  Paul stood up and walked over towards the door of the room.  He opened the door as though the locks hadn't existed.

She nodded and looked down at the still figure lying in the bed and rather than question Paul as he left the room, she reached over and took the hand of her daughter and held it tightly.   Taking a deep breath, she began to speak her voice soft at first, but as each moment passed, it grew in emotion and intensity.  "I'm sorry, Stephy, I didn't know that I had hurt you.  I thought all along that you wanted to skate, but I guess it was more what I wanted for you than what you wanted." Teresa's tears began to stream down her face as she looked down at her daughter.   "When I was a girl, I wanted to be a skater more than anything, but my mother, your grandmother, was against it.  She sabotaged that, and everything else I cared about.  When I was about your age, I was sent off to boarding school, and my mother burnt all of my skating  posters, and souvenirs.  I swore that I would never do anything like that to any of my children, but maybe I did when I pressured you about skating.  I guess it was something I had wished for myself."

Teresa Zimmerman's past came out slowly at first, but as she spoke, the emotions continued to come out as she described her mother, a harsh woman who died before Stephanie had been born. Then she spoke about her father, a man who would disappear for days at a time, and when he finally did come home, he'd usually be drunk.  This state resulted in him yelling at her for the simplest of things, whether it was being one number off on her math homework or forgetting to flush the toilet.  "I guess what I learned from my mother was how to control the people close to me and from my father, how to yell at the people I love.  I guess I'm no better than my parents were, but I had always dreamed of being where you were Thursday."

She grabbed a tissue from her pocket.  "I guess I have been an embarrassment to you, but my intentions weren't done  to hurt you.  I'm sorry that they did, and if you want to quit, then I won't stop you.   Just please come back to us.  You have friends here who care about you.  The Fischers are here, and Jake and Gilda, the Guthries, and this Paul is here with his son.  All these people care about you.  I'm the witch, but you're the ray of sunshine.  I realize now that what I have learned from you far surpasses what you could have learned from me.  You have more grace in you than I could ever hope for in me.  I don't mean with the skating either.  I have always remembered how you are always so kind to people, and so givin