A Chance Encounter & Another Chance Encounter

A Chance Encounter

Month 15 Day 18

19:57 Hours

Bugalu

Bugalu jumped up from their shared table and pounced on the pool table as soon as it opened up. "Come on, Mac, let's play some pool," he invited.

She got up and walked over, selected a pool cue. "The designers should have installed more pool tables," she commented. "It's almost impossible to get any time on one."

"They'd have to remove some of the electronic games," he returned. "And believe it or not, some of those actually sharpen certain skills."

"Yeah, yeah, so you've told me."

"Don't suppose you'd care to share the table?" MacGregor asked as he approached.

Smythe stood back, looking at Mac uncertainly. "Drake, we can find something else to do."

"If we have to," MacGregor returned to his companion. "I haven't played pool since the Verasis Flu was rampaging through the ship. I'm not sure I remember how."

Bugalu turned to his 'sister'. "Mac?"

He saw her swallow. "Okay," she agreed quietly. "We can share."

It was decided to divide into teams according to rank, and when MacGregor broke the formation, he managed to sink the 11 ball, so Bugalu and Mac were left with the solid colors. Mac made a raspberry sound. "Sure, it's obvious how much you don't remember the game," she told her friend.

"Pure luck," he returned. "I never manage to sink a ball when I break." He studied the table to see what possibilities remained for him.

Mac walked to their table for a moment and returned with their drinks, put them down on a closer table. Smythe watched her closely as she finished half a glass of tea. "I thought–" he began, and stopped.

MacGregor took his second shot, but the 15 ball didn't go in. "You thought what?"

"Nothing." Smythe looked uncomfortable.

Mac went to a drink dispenser and came back with a fresh glass of brown liquid. Bugalu turned to the pool table and took his shot, but the 7 ball bounced against the back of the pocket and rolled into the middle of the table. Blast! I wish Mac had sent them away. I don't know what's going on between her and Smythe, and I find it hard to concentrate with my mind wrapped up in their problems.

Smythe took his turn, and got the 10 ball in, but didn't quite have his bank shot right for the 12. Mac had a simple shot to get the 3 ball in a side pocket, but somehow missed the 5 entirely on her next shot and nearly scratched the 8 ball.

While Bugs went to the table to get himself a drink, he noticed Smythe plant himself right next to Mac and whisper something only she would be able to hear. She gave him a startled glance and asked, "Who told you that?"

Smythe continued to whisper. Mac's mouth tightened, and she reached over to the table to get her glass. "Not that it's any of your business what I drink, but it's tea!" And she poured the rest of the glass all over her would-be suitor, then tossed her cue stick to the pool table and walked out of the rec room.

"What was that about?" Bugs wondered.

Smythe wiped his face with his sleeve. "Never mind. I was wrong."

"If you're going to argue with her, I wish you'd do it somewhere else," MacGregor told him, and returned to studying the table.

Smythe walked over to Bugalu and handed him his pool cue. "I too often say the wrong thing to her," he stated.

"Congratulations," Bugs told him softly, and Smythe gave him a confused look. "She cares what you think of her."

"Well, I think I'm done for the night." He turned and left the rec room.

MacGregor took his shot but didn't drop a ball in a pocket. "What was that about?" he asked Bugalu.

The helmsman shrugged. "Not a clue." They continued their game.

  

Another Chance Encounter

Month 15 Day 25

20:33 Hours

Smythe

It was already dark when Smitty entered the arboretum. He turned on his flashlight to its lowest setting and directed it to the path about a foot ahead of him. He knew where he was headed, and didn't want to disturb any indiscrete lovers he might pass on his way.

Two minutes later, he stopped, listened for sounds of anybody coming along the path, then doused his light and ducked under the drooping branches to approach the trunk of the weeping willow. He sat down with his back against the trunk and sighed.

"You aren't alone here," someone whispered.

"What? Who's there?" It wasn't quite a whisper when it came out, and someone shushed him. Whether they were under his tree or further afield, he couldn't tell.

"Smit?"

His breath caught in his throat. "Colleen?" He flipped his flashlight on and shone it on her face, to be sure.

"Ouch! Turn that off!" she hissed, and then, "Did you come here alone?"

"Yes," he muttered, the light held tight against his chest until he got it turned off. He vividly remembered her face as shown by that light, and there had been tracks down her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Are you expecting someone to join you?"

"No. I come here from time to time to think."

"In the dark?"

"It reminds me of a weeping willow I knew, when I was a child."

"Same here," she answered. "Not a weeping willow, but a Gaelund tree with many of the same characteristics."

Oh, she's been thinking of home. I've probably interrupted a bout of homesickness. "My tree died while I was at the Academy."

"That's sad."

"What about your tree? Is it still alive?"

"It was when I went home for my brother's funeral." He heard murmurings and cloth against the tree bark as she adjusted her seat.

"You must miss your home."

"Not really. The gravity is about all I miss anymore."

Then why is she crying? "But your family. Surely you'd like to see them again."

"I have no desire to ever go back." It was a cold pronouncement, despite being whispered.

"But you came here, to a place that reminds you of home."

"I came here to think, not reminisce. I know what waits for me if I go back, and it's not happy."

"You can't be sure of that. If you went home to make amends–"

"I have nothing to make amends for!" she declared.

"Quiet," someone requested from the darkness from beyond the tree, reminding Smitty to keep his voice low.

"Then don't you think you should give your family the chance to apologize for... whatever they've done?"

"You don't understand."

"Possibly not. But your parents won't live forever. It's always best to forgive and forget. Not let bad feelings fester between you."

"Please, I didn't ask for advice! But if you must know, if I were to return home, I'd be disowned! What I've been through is nothing compared to that!"

Now she's being melodramatic. Things can't be as bad as that. She hasn't been home to do anything to make them mad. "I'm just saying–"

"You're talking nonsense!" she shot back. "They'd never forgive me!"

"It can't be that bad."

"It's the worst thing—" She stopped abruptly, and he felt movement in the air around him. He reached out for her shoulder, found a standing leg instead. "Let go of me!" She moved away from his hand. "I'm sorry to have intruded on your solitude," she bit out, and shadows bounced among other shadows as she made her way through the tree's branches.

Smitty assumed she found her way to the path and thus to a door out of the arboretum. She was obviously too angry to want him to follow her, so he didn't. He spent the next hour or so wondering what he'd said that set her off.