Month 9 Day 11
Shore Leave Day 12
2104 Hours
Bugalu
Previously:
“Shorty, are all your
drinking contests this... eventful?” Bear asked.
“Oh, no,” she
answered. “Most men don’t join the contest just so they can say they didn’t win!”
For some reason, Smythe momentarily stopped playing his game
to glance at all the other men participating in the contest.
“Beth, he’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” Mac asked. “I feel a
little responsible.”
Abdulla cleared her throat. “It’s not your fault if a man
decides to drink more than he can handle.”
“I know that,” Mac agreed.
“Next drink!” Bugalu called. 8 glasses were raised, emptied
and lowered, more or less in unison.
Mac continued as if there hadn’t been any interruption. “It
isn’t the drinking I feel responsible for. He was doing that to - in a weird
way - impress Steph. It’s more that I think I - kind of - introduced them.”
“You don’t think Eli is any good for Stephanie?” Della asked.
Mac’s forehead puckered and she returned to her game, moved a
couple cards while she thought about Della’s question. “Fact is,” she decided,
“I’ve never really considered men being good for women. In general. So I’ve certainly
never entertained that question about a specific man and woman.”
“This sounds like it has something to do with the way your
father thinks,” MacGreg stated.
“Of course it does,” Bugalu replied. “Where else would she get
such an idea? Or in this case, dismissed an entire idea? Next drink!”
8 glasses were raised and lowered, fairly well in unison.
Conversation at the table died for a couple minutes. Mac and
Smythe seemed engrossed in their games. And then Winthrop decided to poke at
his ‘nemesis’. “I’m flattered, Smythe, that you consider me such competition
for the lovely Colleen’s attention that you feel you must be here to ‘keep an
eye on me’. But I don’t quite understand how you expect to do that when you are
so obviously enthralled with your game of cards.”
“Enthralled, am I?” Smythe answered without looking up.
“Colleen, you can put your Queen of Hearts on the King of Clubs and move the
King to the spot that opens up.”
“What?” In another second, she saw the obvious move that had
previously eluded her. “Oh. Thank you, Smit.”
“Don’t tell her that!” Capac murmured. “It’s against the
rules.”
Mac bristled. “No, it-”
“Not according to the Mahoney Rule,” Smythe told the younger
man.
“Next drink!” Bugalu called.
Tossing down his shot, Smythe continued his game and his
conversation. “Evans is already feeling the alcohol; I believe he spilled a
drop picking up that last drink. And you, Winthrop, are starting to delay your
drinking. You pick up your glass with everybody else, but you don’t drink it
until everybody else has emptied theirs.”
That’s
something I’ll need to keep an eye on.
Winthrop blushed and his eyes thinned. “I’m well within the
15 seconds allowed!”
Smythe - still ‘enthralled’ in his card game - shrugged. “That’s
why I didn’t mention it before. But you wanted to know how well I was paying
attention.”
“The man sees everything, I swear,” Della whispered to
herself.
After a moment, Capac muttered, “I’ve never heard of the
Mahoney Rules.”
“Well, the only Mahoney I’ve heard of is Paddy Mahoney. From
our history books.”
“That’s the guy,” Smythe stated.
“Oh! He discovered Gaelund!” Abdulla said. “As I remember, he
got lost, ran low on fuel, and spent months basically drifting, with barely
enough power for life support and a repeating call for help.”
“Which was heard by the P/tarq,” Mac added. “The inhabitants
of the planet out from Gaelund. Intelligent, but only beginning to colonize
their biggest moon, at that time. They didn’t understand his language, of
course, but somehow they deduced he was in trouble and sent out a homing
beacon. So he discovered P/Tar, boosted their space program, and discovered Gaelund.”
Smythe continued the story, his attention apparently on the
game he played. “During which, he spent a couple years playing solitaire to
keep himself sane. Hence the ‘Mahoney Rule’: If it looks like you should be able to do it, you can do it.”
Mac frowned at her game in disapproval. “Yeah, that sounds
like Gaelund reasoning.”
“Next drink,” Bugalu announced.
Conversation among the contestants and friends was intermittent
for about 15 minutes. Slamming his once-again-empty glass down on the table, Evans
glared at Mac. “ ‘Ou arn evin sh-shlurrin’!”
Mac looked up, leaned forward. “Evans, I’m not even buzzed yet.”
“Well, shace,” he swore, and pushed his shot glass away. “I’m
out. Call me a tashi, Bugshy, and yoush can keep the alcoholic fer yershelf!”
“My name is Bugalu,” he stated and sent Evan’s hotel info to
Capac.
“She callsh you
Bugshy alla time! Your redheaded little bitch.”
Bugalu leaned over the table and hissed, “Keep your drunken
mouth shut, or I’ll deck you myself and let you crawl to your hotel!”
“Sho mush fer ‘ou chesh bein’ friends, huh?” Evans sneered.
“Evans!” Smythe’s voice rumbled through the pub. “If you
don’t shut up, I’m inclined to let
him.”
Capac and another crewman from the Fireball pulled Evans to
his feet and urged him toward the door.
Bugalu looked down to find Mac’s cool fingers wrapped around
his balled fist. “Wow! For a second, I thought I was at home. Thanks, Matthew.”
He groaned. “If the choices are Bugsy or Matthew, stick with
Bugsy.”
She laughed and gave his arm a playful slap. She was always
careful not to bruise her friends. “And you
remember you said that!”
“Is Matthew your first name?” Moor asked. “I don’t think I’ve
ever heard it.”
“No,” Bugalu answered and started around the table to refill
glasses. “Matthew was my roommate at the Academy. Mac’s brother.”
“So that’s where you met,” Jones said.
“That’s right. Matt thought she needed another-“
“Bugs,” she interrupted, and glanced around the table.
He remembered where they were, why all these men were here,
and understood her gentle warning, her unspoken request. Blast, how do we get ourselves into these messes? Well, how can I turn
down a sister looking for help? “That she needed another person to remind
her to study. Boy, was he wrong. And it’s time to drink up.”
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