Season Three, Episode Twelve: B

Forever, in a Day

By Ldynwaitin

Chapter One

The Name Game

Peter Bishop impatiently waited at the car for Walter Bishop. He watched him saying goodbye to the agents and sheriff's men and anyone else that was there. They were asked to investigate an unusual case near Green mountain forest in Vermont. They were called about the case at five in the morning!

Because of the long drive Peter didn't want a bumpy ride in Walter's old station wagon, so he rented a sedan. The unusual case was a body found in the river. The man appeared to be in his nineties, yet the local Sheriff swore that he was thirty-two.

Peter pounded on the roof of the car. "Walter, let's go!" he shouted. On the drive there he heard on the radio reports of violent weather headed their way. He didn't want to take any chances. He was anxious to get back to Boston as soon as possible.

The sheriff walked up to Peter. He was still in disbelief at what he saw. "I tell you, Mr. Bishop…"

"My father is Mr. Bishop. You can call me, Peter," he told the Sheriff, with a warm smile.

Sheriff Boardson nodded his head. "Peter, I went to school with the man. We both had the same tattoos."

When they examined the body, Peter noted that he had a tattoo on his left hand of a coiled cobra. It was identical to the one the Sheriff had on his hand.

Boardson sadly looked at the body as it was loaded into an ambulance. "Glen Caputo was a good friend of mine, what the hell happened to him?"

The Sheriff looked at Olivia, then Peter. "He had needle marks on his arms. I know Glen, he never used drugs, he hated them. And those puncture wounds on his legs, what could have caused that?"

"That's our job, Sheriff," Peter told him. "I promise, we'll do all that we can to give you an answer."

"I pray that you do, Peter," Sheriff Boardson whispered. "Agent Dunham, can you keep an eye out for his brother, Thomas? He's missing too, he has the same tattoo." He smiled, as he recalled a fond memory. A celebration of life, Glen said. He loved snakes, especially cobras. They all agreed to tattoo Glen's favorite snake on their hands. A decision they immediately regretted the next day. "We had a little too much to drink that night," Boardson softly admitted.

"I'll inform the bureau, Sheriff," Olivia assured him. "If we hear anything, I'll let you know."

"Peter," Walter said, as he opened the door to the car. "What are you waiting for? We need to get back to my lab and examine the body."

Peter shook his head, "Just for you, Walter. I'm waiting just for you." He looked at Olivia. "We'll call you if we find anything."

"I'll make sure the body is sent to your lab." She briskly walked away.

She was abrupt with him lately. The aloofness in her voice had grown stronger. He was beginning to run out of ideas on what more he had to do to let her know how sorry he was he had mistaken FauxOlivia for her.

He didn't know why, but after she dropped off Simon Phillips, she seemed more distant to him. He still found it hard to believe that he could read minds. He wondered if Phillips told her something that he read from his mind? He shook his head, lately he had been wondering about a lot of things, but not getting any answers.

Getting into the car, Peter buckled in. He looked at Walter. "It's a three-hour drive. If you need to stop off anywhere, let me know."

"I'll let you know, Peter." He pulled out a paper map.

"I don't need the map, Walter. I know how to get back to Boston."

Walter brought his window down and looked down the road. "I noticed a back road we can use that will be more scenic and relaxing than driving the highways."

He put the map down on his lap and sadly looked at Peter. "The coldness between you and Olivia is positively freezing. Perhaps I should invite her to breakfast?"

"Walter, what's happening between us is our business. We'll figure it out."

Peter hoped they could figure it out, he wished they could figure it out. But figuring out anything required two people. And right now, he was flying solo.

Walter touched Peter's arm. "You also have so many other things on your plate right now. Finding out that I brought you here from an alternate universe as a boy, then your real father wanting to use you to destroy this world. I'm, I'm also very afraid of what that machine did to you." He whispered, "I was never so frightened then when I saw you kill that shapeshifter. I just know it has something to do with your connection to that infernal machine."

Peter saw fear in Walter's eyes. A fear and concern that only a father could feel for his son. He may not be his real father, but Walter was the only father he knew for over twenty years of his life. That was something he could never dismiss. He gave him a reassuring smile, and patted Walter's hand. "I'm okay, Walter."

Peter looked back, the sky was blue, no dark clouds. He saw no sign of any coming storm. "We could both use a 'scenic route'." Starting the car, he said, "Tell me which road to take."

Half an hour later they were driving down a two-lane paved road. They were surrounded on both sides by a forest of ancient Oak and Ash trees.

Walter pointed at a tree. "Look, Peter. A Poecile atricapillus, beautiful."

Peter frowned, "And that is?"

"A black-capped chickadee, of course."

"Yes, Walter. Silly of me not to know that." He was pleased to see Walter was so happy. There were very few cars on the road. With the window down the fresh air of the forest invigorated Walter, and he was hesitant to admit, him too. He was glad Walter suggested they take the back roads back to Boston.

Walter looked down at the map. He put a mark on the map of where he saw the bird. "I like paper maps. It's a glimpse to what lies ahead." He tapped the map. "The next town is twenty miles ahead."

Looking up, Walter suddenly became overly excited. "Peter look, look at the sign. Can we stop there, please? I love good old-fashioned maple candy."

The sign on the road read:

Fimmer's General Store.

Maple Sugar Candy our Specialty.

Walter looked so happy, Peter just couldn't say no. "Okay, Walter, but don't blame me for any dyspepsia you may get from eating all that sugar."

"I promise, I won't, Peter." Five minutes later they saw a sign at the side of the road with Fimmer's in bold letters. Making a right, Peter drove up a dirt road. Nestled behind ancient Maple trees was Fimmer's.

Peter pulled the car onto the parking lot. They heard their tires crushing gravel as they stopped in front of a grocery store. Maple Candy was hand painted on a hanging sign. It hung in front of the store. To the stores left was a small diner. A large white propane tank stood on the right side of the grocery store.

Walter practically flew out of the car. "I haven't had a good piece of maple candy in years."

Getting out of the sedan, Peter scanned the area. If the sign wasn't on the road, he would have missed the place. It was surrounded by thick forest growth. Closing the door to the car, he saw Walter rushing into the store. The place could have been seen on any postcard. The faded blue paint on the walls was cracked and peeling. Its red roof lost its brightness years ago.

Peter spotted some clouds headed their way. Fortunately, they were not the threatening kind, at least for now.

He slowly walked up two steps onto a small wooden porch. Opening a screen door, he heard a bell ring. As he walked into the store, if felt as if he stepped back in time.

Several large wooden barrels sat on the left side of the store. Peeking inside a barrel Peter found it was filled with flour, the next held dried beans. He slowly walked around the narrow aisles. Wooden shelves on the right were packed with canned goods. A layer of dust covered each can. Peter guessed not many people came to the store.

In the back of the store Walter was talking to a man behind a counter. The man wore an old grey fedora hat on his head. He was the skinniest man Peter ever saw. The thing that stood out to him the most was his eyes. They were bright yellow. He never saw eyes that color before. Walter was pointing to packaged boxes on a shelf behind the man. Peter stepped next to Walter.

The man grinned at him. Peter felt uneasy by the man's smile. It looked forced. The man tipped his hat and nodded his head at him. "Where are you headed, young man?"

Peter thought it was odd that he called him a young man. He appeared to be in his forties. "Home," he curtly replied.

"They have maple leaf candy," Walter said. The smell of the candy intoxicated him.

Peter plunged his hand inside his pocket. "How much for a pound?"

Walter looked up at his son as he stood by his side. He was so proud of him. Even after finding out what he had done, he still looked after him.

"A pound?" the man said. "That'll be twenty dollars…uh, didn't catch your name, mister."

"That's because I never threw it." With a quick smile, he said, "Mister will do."

Peter handed the fedora man a twenty. He saw the hint of a scowl on the man's face. It was gone as quick as it appeared.

A small bell rung, signifying a sale as the store clerk opened an old-fashioned cash register. Putting the money inside, he slammed it shut. He placed the candy in a paper bag and set it on the counter. Peter took a receipt for the candy and plunged it in his pocket.

"It's near lunch time," the clerk said. "If you're hungry, our diner is the best in Litchfield County. I just bagged a deer. We have venison steaks with some fiddlehead soup on the menu today."

"That sounds wonderful. I am a bit hungry, Peter." Walter looked to him for approval.

"Peter, so that's your name," the clerk said. A half grin parted his lips as he pointed at Peter. "Greek in origin, Petros, it mean's stone."

"That's right," Peter said.

The clerk proudly smiled. "Name origins are a hobby of mine."

"Oh?" Walter gushed. "Do you know what my name means? It's Walter."

The man leaned on the counter. "That's easy. It's of German origin, it means powerful army."

"Yes," Walter said, with a chuckle. "It does."

Peter grabbed the bag of candy. "Walter, let's go."

"Peter, I'm hungry," Walter whined. "When we get back to the lab, I'll be working for hours. I need something to eat." He just realized that he was positively famished.

Peter nodded his head, "Okay, Walter. Then we go home."

"Thank you, Peter." He smiled at the man. "It was nice to meet you, Mr.?"

"Enoch, Enoch Fimmer," the man said."

"Enoch, Hebrew," Peter said. "It means, dedicated." Grinning he said, "Also a hobby."

Enoch's forced grin returned. "That's me, dedicated to my family. Listen, when you go to the diner, be sure to tell Caleb I sent you there. He'll have a surprise for you."

"Thank you," Walter said.

Leaving the store, Peter headed to the car. Walter walked towards the diner. "Walter," Peter shouted. "Come on, we're going home. I don't want to get caught in that storm that's coming."

Walter looked up. "My ears always tell me if there is a barometric drop in the atmosphere." He tapped his ear and shook his head, "No popping. We have plenty of time. Besides, I'm positively starving. I really have a taste for some venison."

Peter knew when it came to food, Walter was single minded. Talking him out of going to the diner was not an option. Putting the candy in the car, he reluctantly followed him.

A bell rang on the door as they walked into the diner. On the left was four booths that sat next to large bay windows. To the right was a long counter. Stools covered with cracked vinyl stood in front of the counter. Walter rushed down the aisle and sat down in one of the booths. Peter sat opposite of him. He looked outside the window. It really was a very peaceful spot.

This was just what they needed. Some alone time. During the meal Peter decided he would talk to Walter about his feelings on what happened to him when he was a child. He stared at his reflection in the window. His fingers absently stroked his chin, as he went over in his mind what he was going to tell Walter. Seeing the reflection of someone approaching them in the window, he heard a man say, "Welcome to Fimmer's diner, what can I do for you?"

Turning his head, Peter saw a young man that had to be a relative of Enoch. He was very thin and had the same haunting yellow eyes. The difference was a full head of thick black hair. Peter began to feel uncomfortable as the man seemed to be fascinated with him.

"Can we have some menu's?" Peter asked him.

"Yes sir, I'll go get them. My name is Caleb." He brightly smiled. Peter noted that there seemed to be a sadness in his eyes.

"Caleb," Walter said. "Enoch told us to tell you he sent us here."

"Really?" Caleb said. "Then you're in luck. You'll both be getting a free slice of maple pie."

Walter rubbed his hands together, "Excellent."

"I'll just go get those menus, Peter. I'll be right back." Caleb quickly went through double doors next to the counter.

As he left, Peter's inner alarms went off. "Walter, we should leave." He stood up and pulled Walter out of the booth. "We should leave, now."

Walter's eyes were knit in confusion. "Why do we have to leave, Peter?"

Peter began pushing him to the door. "Because, Walter. I never told him my name."

~~~Embryo Apple, bottom right dot~~~