From: dhearne@VMSVAX.SIMMONS.EDU -------- Title: Women Trouble Author: David Hearne Classification: S Rating: PG Summary: The next-to-last conversation Pendrell ever had. Features Reverend Louis Mulder. ----------------------------------------------------------------- "You don't drink. I respect that." "Hm?" "I said, you stay away from booze. That's a good idea." Louis Mulder looked at the man next to him in the bar. He was in his late-twenties, dressed like an urban professional currently on his leisure time. Judging by his slurred diction and loose movements, the man did not have the character trait he admired in Louis. Louis shrugged and picked up his glass of milk off the bar. "Actually, I've had a lot of experience with other intoxicants." The man looked at Louis' long hair and dirty dress suit. "Are you a hippie?" he asked. "No. I'm a Baptist preacher." The man nodded. Louis sipped at his milk. "Tell me...do you guys have to take an oath of celibacy?" Louis coughed. He had to use a napkin to clean up the milk dribbling from his mouth. The man blushed. "Sorry. Sorry. Shouldn't have said that. Sorry." "No, it's all right. You just...surprised me. Um, the answer is... no. Of course, we're expected to resist various temptations of the flesh." "I see." The man took a sip of his beer. "So, uh..." "Yes?" "Well...I mean, how do you do it?" Louis looked at the man. "Okay, okay. Too personal. Sorry, again." Louis smiled. "It's all right. It's a perfectly honest question." "Oh. So, what do you do when you want it real bad? Pray? Take a cold bath? Put on a hair shirt?" "To tell you the truth...I never had that problem." There was a deep circle of quiet between the two men that the other conversations in the bar flowed around. It was broken by the drunk man saying, "Get out of here..." "I'm serious." "Get out of here. Get out of D.C." "I'm being perfectly honest." "Look...you're saying there's no woman that made you crazy thinking about her?" "Nope." The man raised an eyebrow. "Any man?" "Nope." The man took an appraising look of Louis, then shook his head. "Well, I'll be..." "However..." "Ha! I knew it!" "There is one woman." "Exactly." "She's called The Open Road." "What now?" "My erogenous zone is located in my feet. The process of motion sets me into ecstasy. I'm in love with that time of suspension when you're in neither Point A or Point B. I swoon over the sense of possibility as I decide whether to go north, south, east or west. When in orgasm, I shout only one word...'Go!'" The man considered that speech for awhile, then said, "But you have to stop sometime..." The man saw Louis' incredibly blue eyes turn warm and kind. Louis put a hand on his shoulder. "Exactly," the preacher said. "You have to resist the temptations of motion, to push away the seduction of being nowhere. As a Christian, I have to be in touch with other people. I can't do that if I'm just a blur to them. That's why in every place I stop in, I look hard and good to see if this is the location that will cure me of my addiction to travel. I want to know if this is the place that will give me a higher purpose than a simple wanderer." Pendrell nodded. "Well, I hope you find that place." "I think I have." "You mean...Washington, D.C.?" "No. It's an insignificant town in Mississippi. No map acknowledges its existence. I'm the preacher in this town and my congregation is made up of uneducated hillbillies. I'm madly in love with it. I think it's where I truly belong." "So, why aren't you there now?" Sadness took over Louis' face. "I guess I'm not particularly faithful. Of course...you see, I'm not entirely certain if all that traveling I did was the result of my own will. The last time I was in D.C..." The sadness became even deeper. He took a sip of milk before continuing. "I touched on a pain that's as deep as any pit. I poured salt on the wounds of two special people. I couldn't change what I did to them. All I could do was damage control." "Why are you here now?" "To see if...I don't know...I keep thinking there's something I could do for them. Of course, they don't even want to see me anymore. I'm not ever sure I can face them." Louis sighed, then waved his hand dismissively. "Well, you have your problems," he said. "Huh. Yeah. I also got problems with a woman. And not a metaphorical one." "Is that why you asked me about oaths of celibacy?" "Loving her IS an oath of celibacy." "Ah. I take it she doesn't return your feelings." "She's...she's, you know, friendly. She's nice to me. And she's always turning to me when she's got something weird she needs figuring out. And, boy, let me tell you, she's into WEIRD things." "But, it's a 'I-prefer-you-as-a-friend' situation?" "That and something else." "I see. Another man." "Sort of." "What do you mean?" "They are and they aren't." "I don't get it." The man slapped his hand on the bar. "Neither do I! That's what drives me nuts! There's this guy she works with, right? Very closely. And they've been through hell together. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain and some working genitalia that they should...you know...consummate! But, no, they keep playing Mr. and Mrs. Platonic Professional!" "Are you sure they are? Just platonic, I mean?" "Oh, I'm sure. So, here I am and there he is. He can have what I want, but he stays away from it. Sometimes, I just want to string him up by his unimaginative tie. What is his problem? I mean, you should see this woman. A real red-headed knockout..." Louis blinked. "Red-headed?" "Like the final hours of daylight, man." "Tell me...where do you work?" "The FBI. I'm one of Big Brother's drones." "What's your name, by the way?" "Pendrell." Louis stared at him. Pendrell saw the look and said, "Yeah, I have a first name. Just everybody calls me by the last. She does. Of course, she calls the other guy by his last name, too." "I...see." "What's your name?" "Louis." "Louis what?" "Louis...Faulkner." "Nice to meet you, Reverend Faulkner." Pendrell took a gulp of beer. He didn't see the aggravated look Louis threw skywards. "You know," Pendrell said. "if they were to finally succumb to the inevitable, I would spread rose petals around their bed. Seriously. I would. They would make a great couple. They ARE a great couple, but they don't know it. Or they know it and they...arrrgggh..." Pendrell's head drooped towards the bar. "You really should stop beating yourself up like this," Louis said carefully. "As far as I know, the population of attractive single women in Washington, D.C. is not limited strictly to one." Pendrell was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "It's more than looks. It's the way she holds herself. It's the way she faces the world, despite all the garbage it's rained on her. She just takes it on with no apologies." He paused for a moment. "That's what she's like most of the time. Then there are moments when she's as fragile as glass. Those are the moments when I want to reach out and protect her. Especially of late. Something's really bothering her..." "Yeah," Louis said in almost a whisper. "I would risk my life to save her." Louis suddenly looked afraid. "Maybe we shouldn't be talking." "It's okay. I like you. I like telling somebody..." "No. The last person I talked to in this bar...he died." Pendrell studied Louis' concerned expression, then said, "Why should that bother you? You didn't kill him, did you?" "Not directly." Pendrell looked at Louis some more. Then he shrugged, then turned back to his beer. Louis asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what happened?" "I don't think you're going to tell me." "No. But aren't you curious?" "I've heard stranger things." Louis looked away. Pendrell didn't see the preacher suddenly turn back around, hiding his face from someone who just entered the bar. Louis made a quick decision. "I need to get going," he said. "Huh? Oh, sure. You must be sick of hearing me whine." "No. Actually, I'm deeply sympathetic." Then Louis leaned over and Pendrell heard this whispered--- "Whatever role you play in this woman's life, I'm sure it will be an important one." Pendrell turned to ask Louis what he meant, but the preacher had already slipped away, disappearing behind the other customers. Pendrell shrugged. Then he remembered something. The woman he mentioned---it was her birthday and he hadn't gotten her anything. Some lover he made. What could he do to make it up to her?