by Chris Hechtl
Shane ran into the delegation of church members the next morning. “Gentlemen, I hear you have a problem?” he asked, glad Bryan had warned him of this.
Their spokesman was a Reverend Paul, an imposing man with silvering hair and a long face and hands. He had a classic black outfit on, with a white collar. Not quite church regulation, it looked like it had been made up of a dark but not quite black suit, but it did mark him as the head of a church. The others were dressed in business suits. Two he was surprised to see were not Christians, one was he guessed an orthodox Jew from the look of the beard and hair, the other was wearing a Kafka and robes of a Muslim. Thoughts of a rabbi, priest, and an imam sputtered in the back of his brain briefly.
Reverend Paul glanced at his fellows and then went immediately on the attack. He listened to their litany of complaints, at first amused, but also annoyed. They were angry that they aren't included in the council, and that they had substandard issue and substandard accommodations. Also they demand a place of worship.
When the complaints started to wind down he decided to intervene. He really didn't have all day to listen to this. “Really?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Personally I think Sunday really should be a day of rest. Sleeping in and watching football. You did just fine for Christmas.” He felt a pang over that. He wondered now if that was what made them feel empowered. Was this the price they were going to have to pay for it? Hell, Jen's smile was worth it, but damn if he was going to put up with crap for the rest of the year.
One of the fathers smiled weakly at the joke but the others scowled even fiercer. They glanced at their traitorous compatriot, making him sober fast.
Reverend Paul grimaced. “As it may, we have a duty to our flocks to attend to their spiritual needs. That is woefully under done. I cannot attend to that and do my...” he wrinkled his nose. “Chores as well.”
“I seem to recall the monks and priests of yesteryear had no trouble doing it in their time. Pity that's what puts food on the table right now,” Shane said coolly. He wasn't a religious person, never had been. Sure he'd bow his head with the rest of the congregation during prayer, but he was a practical person. After the prayer you still needed to get off your ass and do the job. Jen was the one who insisted on dragging him out of bed so they could get busy dressing up and going to church on Sundays. He'd rarely won that argument. Well, there were methods, he thought with a slight smile, but they rarely worked two times in a row.
“I say, do pay attention.”
“Sorry, wool gathering. Long day,” he said faking a yawn. “Now, about the issue, can't help there, you get what everyone else gets. Same goes for the housing.” He made a show of shrugging helplessly.
“And the church?” the father asked, jaw tightening.
“Church huh? Did you take that up with the domestic department? Assigning space is their area after all.”
“They say, they don't have the space,” Reverend Paul said with a sniff. “There is a perfectly good space in here that could be used.”
“Where did you have in mind?”
“Well, I had thought about something close by the food court, but well, we had to think about the numbers so Sears...”
“Nope, no, nuh uh, don't go there. Busy. The mall itself is out. Space here is at a premium as you know and all of it is used.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “I think the apartments and hotels are booked solid as well. You'd have to check with Bob and Jayne for other space. If nothing else is available we'll have to get creative, at least temporarily. We can probably set you up with a tent somewhere I think,” Shane said with a shrug.
“A tent!” one of the reverends said, eyes wide in dismay. “In this weather?”
“I can't help it father, we do what we can with what we have available. A tent is the best I can think of. If we've got one. Big if. It would be of course temporary until better accommodations can be reached. Have you talked to Jayne about this?”
“That is another thing. To have someone of her... Questionable...” the priest's mouth turned grim and his hands curled around the book he had tucked under one arm. Shane was amused to see the bible there. Bryan was right about that too.
Shane's eyes flashed dangerously and his arms fell to their sides. “Have a care,” he growled. “The lady in question is a personal friend of mine,” he growled, lip curling. One hand went to his side arm instinctively. He'd heard a little scuttlebutt about verbal attacks on Jayne, but most people clammed up when they heard he was near.
“Um, ah that is to say...” the father gulped, eyes darting to his friends.
“You were?” Shane asked, eyebrow rose coolly. He was starting to get an inkling about why these people weren't getting what they thought they deserved. Jayne had her ways of getting a point across, even if it was a tit for tat sort of thing. Unfortunately it was probably making the situation worse and not diffusing it.
“I don't care about people's politics, their religion, or who they sleep with as long as its not a kid. What I expect is for them to get along and do the job. You can say what you want, but if you piss me off enough, or piss her off enough, you'll earn a one way ticket out of here. You catch my drift gentlemen?” he asked, putting steel in his gaze and tone. He took the time to meet each of their gazes. Their eyes turned flinty before falling.
“We need to be working together, not fighting each other,” one father said. Reverend Paul nodded. The Imam nodded as well.
“Exactly. We need to focus our efforts on the true enemy. Not on each other. Mankind as a whole. Stop pointing fingers and raising hell and start giving comfort and rallying people to live on as you said you were trying to do. Don't bring them down or shame them for thinking or living the way they do.”
“In other words no more fire and brimstone preaching?” the youngest reverend said, giving his older compatriots a look of warning.
Shane raised a hand. “What you say is up to you, we still have free speech. But if you cause enough hate and discontent I'll drop kick your ass out of here so fast your head will spin. You and anyone else. Anyone who wants to go with you can. I don't need or want any religious civil wars. I've got enough battles to fight. I want to make that crystal clear now.”
“You have,” Reverend Paul said, looking bitter.
“I'll speak with Jayne later. I suggest you find a way to atone for past mistakes. Let the past lay as it is and work together for a better future for all,” he said making sure they knew he was looking at them all. “I'm very glad that you are working together, bringing the faiths together. Very good start. Now its time to build off that gentlemen.”
“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” the youngest quoted softly. The others looked at him. He seemed to straighten his shoulders. Shane nodded.
“Exactly. Each to his or her own and no one else. What they do and how they live their lives is between them and god.”
The men reluctantly nodded and moved off. One turned back. “Go with god.”
“You too,” Shane said raising a hand in farewell as he turned away. “Yeah, right,” he muttered quietly and walked on.
...*...*...*...*...
He caught up to Jen and Jayne in the Food court later in the day. They'd had to call it a day when the weather shifted and the storm clouds had rolled in. He had storm clouds of a different sort on his mind as he sought out the ladies.
Jen smiled at him as he approached, but her real smile was on Jayne who was coming over with a tray with steaming mugs on it. She hesitated when she saw him.
“You want some?” she asked, setting the tray down and handing each woman a cup. He looked and snorted. Hot chocolate. Each had a candy cane sticking out of it.
“Don't ask how old the candy canes are.”
“Eat them up, its just sugar,” Shane said. “And no, I'll let the chocoholic’s anonymous group have their fix of the week.”
“Month,” Jen corrects with a smile as Jayne covertly dropped a chocolate into her cup and then her own.
She laughed as their lips locked. “Sweet. I like it,” he said as she pushed him away and dimpled.
“Later bub,” she growled.
“Ah, more important things on your mind. Wouldn't be the first time I've been upstaged by chocolate.”
“Or the last,” Jayne said playing with her own cup but not looking up. He looked over to her.
“I heard you had an interesting talk a few hours ago,” she said.
“Oh?” Jen asked, taking a sip and then setting her cup down. “What about?” she asked, looking from Jen to her husband.
“She knows,” Shane said, nodding his chin to Jayne who was quietly stirring her cup with the candy cane.
“Well I don't, so why don't you clue us in,” Jen said, sounding exasperated.
“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. Let's just say people have their own ways of stirring up trouble,” he said, turning an accusing eye on Jayne who hunched her shoulders. She knew that Jen was religious, knew it from back before Jen had been forced to face her own mortality, but it hadn't sunken in until now that it might be an issue.
“Oh?” Jen said coolly, pushing her cup away after a moment and knitting her fingers together. “Why don't you just come out and say it. I know we don't have all day,” she said.
He gave her a look and then slowly nodded, turning back to Jayne and then the group. Tamara looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, apparently there has been some contention among the more religious of our little community. The religious leaders aren't happy about how things are being run.”
“Really?” Tamara asked.
“Yes,” he said with a nod. He looked around the group. He wasn't happy about talking about this in public, but he was in for it now.
“They want a seat on the council?” Jen asked.
“Tamara's seat actually. And yours. And Jayne's. One of the things brooded about is that there are too many women on the council.” He'd read that in the forums earlier in the morning.
Tamara opened her mouth and then closed it fast. Her eyes flashed. “Really!” she said indignantly. She'd thought about stepping aside gracefully for someone else, she felt out of her element in the councils but realized she was a stabilizing element for Bob. She could also act as his eyes and ears when he was too busy, but she resented being shoved to one side.
“Really, really. They resent that they have no say on how things are being run, that they have to work for a living like the rest of us, and how they should be given the respect they deserve.”
“I...” Tamara looked at Jen who was looking equally torn. On the one hand she had been brought up to respect the teachings of the church and its members. On the other, times had changed.
“I know a few of the more... let's say conservative members resent women on the council. I hadn't anticipated this,” Sheila said. She looked uncomfortable. She'd taken sociology and other courses; she knew how fragile civilization was now. They were melding part of modern civilization with medieval forts and some attitudes. Come to think of it she shouldn't be all too surprised that religion would creep back into it now should she? The problem was what to do about it?
“Oh it gets better,” Shane said nodding to her. “Apparently there is a war going on between them and Jayne here. One I'm just finding out about.”
“Oh?”
Sheila looked thoughtful and then looked at Jayne. “So that explains why you've been busy whenever they come a calling and why they can't have space!” she said suddenly, looking at Jayne.
Jayne didn't say anything, just hunched her shoulders a little and wrung her hands on her linen napkin. Her knuckles were white, a clear indication of her distress. “Exactly. We all fight our battles in our own way. They at the pulpit, fighting for people's attention and making them think certain thought patterns. But Jayne has her own way of being... obstructionist.” Shane nodded his head to Jayne.
“Tit for tat,” Jayne said quietly. She grimaced and then looked up defiantly, sucking on her candy cane and not looking at all as innocent as she'd like to think she was projecting.
“What's the problem?” Jen asked looking from Jayne to her husband.
“Apparently some of the bible thumpers are pointing fingers at those who, quote, live in sin,” Sheila answered, looking at the others. She felt her heart sink a little. Was this going to happen because she followed her heart? Were they going to break up? “Those who aren't married, or those who um...” She shot a guilty look at Jayne.
“Who have alternative life styles,” Shane picked up diplomatically.
“Something like that.”
“None of their god damn business,” Jayne growled quietly.
“Nicely put,” Jen said sitting back. “At least they aren't arguing that people shouldn't practice birth control and those who are living in sin should repent and have babies.”
“Give them time, it'll come to them,” Jayne said bitterly.
Shane shrugged. “Not yet at least. They apparently started blaming our troubles with the aliens on this. On people falling into sin and others turning a blind eye to it. That started this morning,” Shane said. He knew Jen knew where he was going with this. It was a classic thing with mob Psychology. Find something the people fear, then point to someone you don't like and blame them for it. The old bait and switch routine. Hitler had played it for all it was worth during his tenure with the Nazi party.
“Oh?” Tamara asked and then winced at the crackle outside. “Storm coming.”
“Probably,” Shane agreed with a nod. “I heard about it on the ride this morning,” he said. He shot Jayne a look. “Apparently they have been denied a right to assemble or a place to do it in so they have had a lot of impromptu sermons in halls and other places.”
“Closets,” Sheila said.
“Whatever,” Shane said shaking his head and shooting her a look. She shrugged.
“So, I told them they can apply for a tent and attend to their flock's spiritual needs outside.”
“Oh lovely,” Jen sighed.
“Its meeting them half way,” he said defensively. Her eyes flashed. He snorted. “They wanted Sears.” She opened her mouth and closed it.
“Well that's not on,” she said after a moment. “But we should find them a place.”
“Care to give up the lab?” he asked. She shook her head. “That was their second choice. How about the day care?” he asked turning to Tamara who shook her head indignantly. “Okay, that's out, that leaves...”
“We get the picture dear,” Jen said, resting a restraining hand on his arm. “There isn't a place in the mall.”
“Right. Nor the rest of the complex, though we might work something out down the road. So, a tent is it. Or a restaurant. I don't know, don't really care at this point.”
“Nor do I,” Jayne said with a grimace.
“I've put them on notice, they keep with the rabble rousing and they will be out on their ear. Collective ear. But they do need a tent.”
“A nice, grimy, patched up, leaky tent,” Sheila muttered darkly. “If they want better they or their congregation can improve it.”
“Which they and their people will use. Of all denominations. But only when time is available.”
“Translation?”
“Off duty. No hurrying off to worship during working hours,” he explained. “And taking their time getting back to work,” he growled.
“Oh, gotcha.”
“Right,” he said with a nod. “No space heaters either, we can't afford the energy or the heat signature. We can't give ourselves away.”
“Right,” Jayne said with a nod.
“So, if they come to you again, lay down the rules and then find a nice out of the way place to put the thing up. Then sit back and ignore the griping that follows.”
“Its giving in,” she said.
“Its picki
ng your battles and knowing not to piss off the public,” he said quietly, waving to the court. She looked around and then grimaced, realizing she was backed into a very public venue. Now she had to back down but save face.
“They'll clean up their acts, or at least do their bitching outside. To a very narrow and narrow minded audience,” he said. “If they change and we have space somewhere else, in a building, then we'll consider a proposal.”
“Why do we have to do it? Tear each other apart like this? Hasn't the world fallen apart enough?” Sheila asked.
“It’s human nature to find someone to blame,” Jen said slowly.
“They can find someone else. I didn't cause this! The aliens did!” Sheila said pointing to the ceiling.
“But they can't prosecute them.”
“They can get off their asses, find a weapon and do it my way,” Shane said dryly.
“Somehow I think they'll pass on that honey,” Jen said patting his arm. He nodded. “But we do need to straighten this out,” she said turning her attention to Jayne. Reluctantly Jayne nodded. She sighed a little.
“Not everyone has a problem with the way you do business Jayne,” Tamara said, resting a hand on the woman's shoulder.
“No, just my gender and how I choose to live my life,” Jayne said bitterly. Her hand caught Sheila's and gripped it. Sheila looked grateful.
“Their problem. Not yours. If they are close minded bigots, then that's their loss. Me, I'm glad to have met you. You opened up my eyes and made me realize at the end of the day all that matters is what we can do for each other. Not to each other. You've proven to me that packaging matters little, its what inside that counts in the end. You've got a good heart, a big heart. Don't let them cut you down, chain it up. I for one won’t. I'm a better man for that.”
“At the end of the day the only thing that matters is how we can help each other,” Jen said with a smile, holding Jayne's hand and Shane's.
“At the end of the day,” Shane said quietly, one finger stroking his wife's hand. He said it just loud enough for the others to hear. “How true is that. In the trenches you don't care what your friends look like or who they are as long as they are with you.”