It did not fall. Instead there was a sound of scuffling and a crash. When she opened her eyes, she found Alex on his back in the corridor. Louis stood between them.
Alex roared and hurled himself at the smaller man. Louis did something blurrily fast with hands and feet, and Alex crashed onto his back again, even more noisily. Before Alex could rise a second time, Louis grabbed a handful of his shirtfront and tossed him ten feet down the corridor with a flick of his arm.
Louis sauntered to where Alex Wolfson lay, hoisted and tossed him down the corridor a second time, and a third. Every other engineer on the floor stood watching.
"That's so you won't think it was some kind of trick."
The older man lay supine, looking up at Louis in obvious fear.
"I want you to imagine an invisible shield, Alex. A shield that nothing can penetrate. The harder you ram into that shield, the harder it bounces you back. Imagine that shield wrapped around this lady, and imagine it getting very angry with you. If you want to keep all your teeth, you'd better not make that shield any angrier. Now get back to your desk before I kick you there."
Alex picked himself up slowly, his eyes riveted to Louis's face. Just before he turned away, his gaze flicked toward Celeste, and Louis spoke again.
"That shield will always be on the job, Alex. Get moving."
Wolfson fled.
* * *
"Are you okay?"
Celeste nodded. "Are you going to get in trouble over this?"
Louis grinned. "Management here shows me a certain deference. Let me know if he bothers you again."
"Is there anything you're not good at?"
The grin soured. "Writing begging letters. Changing the subject. Holding my tongue. Never mind that. What's Alex's problem?"
Celeste pressed her joined hands down in her lap and closed her eyes briefly.
"We went out a few times, just after I joined the company. At first he seemed like a good guy, even if he was a little old for me. He seemed flattered that I was willing to be seen with him. But mostly I was just lonely, and it didn't get better, and eventually I made the mistake of sleeping with him."
She paused to allow him to react, but he continued to listen without expression.
"It didn't work out, but he got needy, wouldn't leave me alone. I told him I didn't want to see him any more, and then it really got bad. Piles of E-mail. Phone calls at midnight. Stuff left on my stoop. I guess he saw me yesterday at...at the clinic."
The blood drained from Louis's face. He half-fell into her guest chair as he searched for words.
"You had an abortion?"
She nodded and forced back her tears. "He must have been there with the Operation Rescue people."
Louis shook his head. "Not Alex."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You don't need to hear about it. Was it his baby?"
She wanted to say anything else, but under the power of his gaze the truth forced its way out of her. "Yes."
Louis looked away. He murmured "I thought, maybe just this once," and then trailed off completely.
In that moment, Celeste saw her decision, the circumstances around it, and its consequences woven into a single tapestry of sorrow that wound about her like a burial shroud. She could not shake herself free.
"Would it have been better for me to bear a child, Louis? Would it have been better for me to abandon my career and become a single mother on welfare? Or perhaps I should have married a man I didn't even like, so the baby would have a father at the expense of his mother's happiness?"
Louis sat in silence for a long time, eyes on the floor.
"There were other options, Celeste. I might have offered you one."
Her mouth dropped open. All her anger and pain were shocked out of her.
"You're not serious."
He rose without speaking, grinned wanly at her and made to leave. She surged out of her chair and grabbed his hand.
"Louis, I've been kicking myself around the block for the way I spoke to you on our last date. I'm sorrier than I can say. If I ever meant anything in my life, I mean this now. I want you to know that it's not too late for us to try again."
A spasm blended from innumerable emotions crossed Louis Redmond's face. What it left behind was the purest desolation.
"Yes, it is."
He squeezed her hand one last time and departed.
====
Afterword:
The above tale is clipped from my novel Chosen One. I present it here for two reasons. The less important one is as a teaser for the novel itself. The more important one is to "stir the pot."
Among the controversies of our time that seemingly no one has dared to address is whether we have the right to disapprove of one another. That will strike some as a non-issue. After all, if we have freedom of expression, surely we have the freedom to disapprove of whatever we find offensive or distasteful. Others will react quite differently. He whose behavior is legal, they'll say, ought not to have to endure the contrary opinions of others. The law has already rendered its verdict; the rest is his business alone.
It's far from a settled matter regardless of what you might think. From the fury of the fusillades over such matters as abortion on demand, same-sex marriage, the right to keep and bear arms, racial preferences in education, business, and government, and so on, it seems to me that the issue deserves to be addressed independently of any specific issue. The urgency of the thing is made obvious by the impulse to punish others for their contrary opinions, which has never been more indulged in the history of these United States.
Frankly, I don't much care what anyone else thinks of my opinions. When I differ with someone else's opinions or disapprove of his conduct, I feel no inhibitions about saying so. Anyone who thinks to punish me for daring to depart from his preferences had better look to his own defenses. However, not everyone can take my attitude with total confidence. Indeed, in several high-profile cases in recent years, prominent persons have been savaged, usually financially, for expressing their opinions on some hot-button topic. Ask Mark Steyn, Ezra Levant, or Phil Robertson of Duck Dynasty fame what they've had to endure -- and those are folks who came out of their gauntlets victorious, bloodied but unbowed. Numerous others have been far less fortunate.
It should not be difficult for a mature adult, confident in his convictions, to endure the knowledge that others disagree with him or disapprove of his conduct. But the critical word in that sentence is should, isn't it?
Think about it.
About The Author:
Francis W. Porretto is an engineer, fictioneer, and commentator. He operates the Liberty’s Torch Website (https://bastionofliberty.blogspot.com), a hotbed of pro-freedom, pro-American, pro-Christian sentiment, where he and his Esteemed Co-Conspirators hold forth on every topic under the Sun.
You can email him at
[email protected]. Thank you for taking an interest in his fiction.
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