Barry White died yesterday. That's too bad, because while I've only ever heard a couple songs by him.. ya know, that was one sexy voice. He will be sorely missed, I'm sure.
Striding down the darkened streets, Charles Emerson Winchester III actually found himself eager to get back to his quarters.
That wasn't entirely true, he realized. He'd rather sleep on the grass outside the mockingly titled "Officer's Club" than return to the company of the insipid Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt; save for the fact that he'd just barely escaped from the saloon alive.
Voices rung in his head and he gritted his teeth at the pounding headache he'd developed after the bottle of liquor had exploded and landed on his head.
His physical and mental condition bordered on blasphemy, at least it would be considered such in his hometown. But here, in the dark and hot night of Stellian, Georgia, he was alone in his miserable brooding.
Walking along, he felt no danger. The angry man in the bar, Ebenizer, had left to go to another saloon and surely had better things to do than follow around a battered and weary man in the dark. It was an ironic feeling; he was all alone in a strange town full of gun-toting maniacs, and yet he felt nothing but apathy. His near brush with death hadn't left him with any great enlightenment or insight; in fact, the only proof that there had been any conflict at all was a small cut on his forehead and the disgusting smell of liquor that surrounded him like a cloud.
The humiliation. He closed his eyes and felt a groan rise out of his throat. Were he not careful, that groan could easily transform into the shriek of a madman. But, above all, Winchester was a man of self-control, and he simply left it at a frustrated snort and continued walking along, rubbing his eyes.
It wasn't, however, a night for taking your eyes off the road, and before Charles could even acknowledge it, he felt himself collide with another pedestrian coming the opposite way. He opened his eyes in a flash and realized that the person had already passed him.
"Oh, pardon me." he said quietly.
The other party was silent for a moment, standing still behind him. Then, the party spoke.
"That... that voice!"
Charles frowned. That was no sort of apology. "Excuse me?" He asked, never turning to see the person behind him.
"That voice!! I KNOW that voice!!!" The tone was excited, clearly very intent on something.
It was then that Charles realized that he, too, knew the voice of the party he collided with.
He whirled around, thoughts of violence, anger and hatred racing through his mind. At the same time, a figure nearly a foot shorter than he was also whirling around to face him. As the figure twirled, billowing red and white skirts flew in an elegant arc and two neatly gloved hands flew up to the figure's chest, clutching one another.
Charles' eyes narrowed.
The other person's eyes widened.
"YOU!!" Charles roared.
"YOU!!!" The other person squealed.
It was clearly the woman from the bar, Charles reassured himself. Up close, she was even more oddly homely than from a distance. Her hair was, however, rather differently styled than it had previously been; now it was hanging down in her face clumsily, and unless Charles was mistaken, several blatantly obvious seams were present on the underside of the hair. So it was fake!!
"You... cowardly bitty! Do you have any idea what nearly became of me?!" He screamed.
The woman looked at him quizzically, her hands still clutched together. "What do you mean, sir?"
"You simply ran off, leaving that loathsome barbarian and I alone together! I was nearly killed while trying to escape from your inconsequential little spat!"
"Oh, you don't say." The woman said casually.
"'OH, I DON'T SAY'?! Is that all you have to say for yourself?!"
"No, not at all sir. That wasn't at all what I meant to say!" The woman nervously wrung her hands, looking at the ground.
"Young woman, I shall not be led astray by your womanhood. You left me to die and I shall not forget that!"
The girl looked up in surprise, and then suddenly a huge, giddy smile lit up her entire face. Before Charles knew what had happened, she launched herself at him and buried her face in his shirt, sobs racking her body.
"Oh, sir, it was so horrible!! That evil man Ebenizer had plans to dishonor me! I was so afraid, I don't know what came over me when I struck him that way! It was so frightening! I'm so sorry I ran the way I did, but he wouldn't hesitate to kill a lady! You distracted him, and I was going to get help! Honestly!!! He's run afoul of the law ever since we met, and I was always so afraid to leave him! But now, I think I'm finally rid of him! Oh, sir, I'm free, and it's all thanks to you!!!"
Charles tried to step away from the leach-like grasp of the young woman, but to no avail. She sobbed against him and he looked around to make sure no one was watching yet even still more public shaming.
"Shhh!! Be quiet, woman! Shut up! Someone will hear you!! Let go of me!"
The girl tipped her head back and wailed, and then resumed her muffled sobbing. Charles grabbed her arms and forcefully wrenched her back from himself. Bending down so that he was at eye level with the woman, he realized that she'd never been crying at all, and a large cheerful smile still filled her face.
"Get that ridiculous expression off of your face." Charles said bitterly, and she complied, replacing her grin with a raised eyebrow. Charles gave up and dropped her wrists, turning to leave.
"Sir, wait! You can't leave!"
He laughed heartily. "Can't I?"
"No! I mean... you can't leave me all alone! What if Ebenizer comes back for me?"
"Young woman, that is none of my concern!"
"Of course it is!! You defended my honor, and that means I'm in your debt. And surely Ebenizer wouldn't dare touch a big, strong man like you!"
"You'll not win me over with poorly-conceived strokes to my ego, I'm afraid. Good night."
"You'd leave a damsel in distress out in the cold, cruel night with raging alcoholics after her?!?" The girl screamed incredulously. Her voice was a grating sound that made Charles wince in pain.
"Show me a damsel in distress and perhaps we can talk."
"What?! It's me, you big dummy!!"
"You! You are no damsel, my dear. You are a withered raisin with a voice that could kill a horse."
"Well you don't have to be MEAN about it! Here all this time I thought you were brave and heroic!"
"PLEASE, young woman! Your conduct is absolutely deplorable!"
"Huh?!"
Striding down the darkened streets, Charles Emerson Winchester III actually found himself eager to get back to his quarters.
That wasn't entirely true, he realized. He'd rather sleep on the grass outside the mockingly titled "Officer's Club" than return to the company of the insipid Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt; save for the fact that he'd just barely escaped from the saloon alive.
Voices rung in his head and he gritted his teeth at the pounding headache he'd developed after the bottle of liquor had exploded and landed on his head.
His physical and mental condition bordered on blasphemy, at least it would be considered such in his hometown. But here, in the dark and hot night of Stellian, Georgia, he was alone in his miserable brooding.
Walking along, he felt no danger. The angry man in the bar, Ebenizer, had left to go to another saloon and surely had better things to do than follow around a battered and weary man in the dark. It was an ironic feeling; he was all alone in a strange town full of gun-toting maniacs, and yet he felt nothing but apathy. His near brush with death hadn't left him with any great enlightenment or insight; in fact, the only proof that there had been any conflict at all was a small cut on his forehead and the disgusting smell of liquor that surrounded him like a cloud.
The humiliation. He closed his eyes and felt a groan rise out of his throat. Were he not careful, that groan could easily transform into the shriek of a madman. But, above all, Winchester was a man of self-control, and he simply left it at a frustrated snort and continued walking along, rubbing his eyes.
It wasn't, however, a night for taking your eyes off the road, and before Charles could even acknowledge it, he felt himself collide with another pedestrian coming the opposite way. He opened his eyes in a flash and realized that the person had already passed him.
"Oh, pardon me." he said quietly.
The other party was silent for a moment, standing still behind him. Then, the party spoke.
"That... that voice!"
Charles frowned. That was no sort of apology. "Excuse me?" He asked, never turning to see the person behind him.
"That voice!! I KNOW that voice!!!" The tone was excited, clearly very intent on something.
It was then that Charles realized that he, too, knew the voice of the party he collided with.
He whirled around, thoughts of violence, anger and hatred racing through his mind. At the same time, a figure nearly a foot shorter than he was also whirling around to face him. As the figure twirled, billowing red and white skirts flew in an elegant arc and two neatly gloved hands flew up to the figure's chest, clutching one another.
Charles' eyes narrowed.
The other person's eyes widened.
"YOU!!" Charles roared.
"YOU!!!" The other person squealed.
It was clearly the woman from the bar, Charles reassured himself. Up close, she was even more oddly homely than from a distance. Her hair was, however, rather differently styled than it had previously been; now it was hanging down in her face clumsily, and unless Charles was mistaken, several blatantly obvious seams were present on the underside of the hair. So it was fake!!
"You... cowardly bitty! Do you have any idea what nearly became of me?!" He screamed.
The woman looked at him quizzically, her hands still clutched together. "What do you mean, sir?"
"You simply ran off, leaving that loathsome barbarian and I alone together! I was nearly killed while trying to escape from your inconsequential little spat!"
"Oh, you don't say." The woman said casually.
"'OH, I DON'T SAY'?! Is that all you have to say for yourself?!"
"No, not at all sir. That wasn't at all what I meant to say!" The woman nervously wrung her hands, looking at the ground.
"Young woman, I shall not be led astray by your womanhood. You left me to die and I shall not forget that!"
The girl looked up in surprise, and then suddenly a huge, giddy smile lit up her entire face. Before Charles knew what had happened, she launched herself at him and buried her face in his shirt, sobs racking her body.
"Oh, sir, it was so horrible!! That evil man Ebenizer had plans to dishonor me! I was so afraid, I don't know what came over me when I struck him that way! It was so frightening! I'm so sorry I ran the way I did, but he wouldn't hesitate to kill a lady! You distracted him, and I was going to get help! Honestly!!! He's run afoul of the law ever since we met, and I was always so afraid to leave him! But now, I think I'm finally rid of him! Oh, sir, I'm free, and it's all thanks to you!!!"
Charles tried to step away from the leach-like grasp of the young woman, but to no avail. She sobbed against him and he looked around to make sure no one was watching yet even still more public shaming.
"Shhh!! Be quiet, woman! Shut up! Someone will hear you!! Let go of me!"
The girl tipped her head back and wailed, and then resumed her muffled sobbing. Charles grabbed her arms and forcefully wrenched her back from himself. Bending down so that he was at eye level with the woman, he realized that she'd never been crying at all, and a large cheerful smile still filled her face.
"Get that ridiculous expression off of your face." Charles said bitterly, and she complied, replacing her grin with a raised eyebrow. Charles gave up and dropped her wrists, turning to leave.
"Sir, wait! You can't leave!"
He laughed heartily. "Can't I?"
"No! I mean... you can't leave me all alone! What if Ebenizer comes back for me?"
"Young woman, that is none of my concern!"
"Of course it is!! You defended my honor, and that means I'm in your debt. And surely Ebenizer wouldn't dare touch a big, strong man like you!"
"You'll not win me over with poorly-conceived strokes to my ego, I'm afraid. Good night."
"You'd leave a damsel in distress out in the cold, cruel night with raging alcoholics after her?!?" The girl screamed incredulously. Her voice was a grating sound that made Charles wince in pain.
"Show me a damsel in distress and perhaps we can talk."
"What?! It's me, you big dummy!!"
"You! You are no damsel, my dear. You are a withered raisin with a voice that could kill a horse."
"Well you don't have to be MEAN about it! Here all this time I thought you were brave and heroic!"
"PLEASE, young woman! Your conduct is absolutely deplorable!"
"Huh?!"
no subject
Date: 2003-07-05 02:41 pm (UTC)I really like the line "You are a withered raisin with a voice that could kill a horse." Hee, that's a keeper!
Re:
Date: 2003-07-05 02:58 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-07-05 07:09 pm (UTC)And groovy, thanks for the link!
GAAAAASSSSSPPPP
Date: 2003-07-05 08:01 pm (UTC)Oh and nice story so far 8^)