From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: Sun, 15 Aug 1999 07:24:53 -0500 Subject: The Project FanFic Challenge 99 presents: "Pickle" by Erin Source: direct xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx WRITTEN FOR THE PROJECT'S FANFIC CHALLENGE 99 www.geocities.com/Area51/Atlantis/4944/ To contain the following: A) "It's a business like any other." B) Either 1013 or 1121, in some form C) Queequeg D) An anonymous phonecall E) Mulder's fish F) A song by Alanis Morrisette G) The Internet H) The fact that nearly 1500 people died in the Titanic disaster due to human error I) A scientific, rational explanation J) Mango-Kiwi Tropical swirl juice drink xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Disclaimer - I intend no infringement yada yada PICKLE - Erin's fic Scully woke up coughing and glanced at the clock. "It's only **11:21**? This night will never end!" She sniffled and popped a tylenol in her mouth, just wanting to get to sleep. But she had been waking up every twenty minutes since she collapsed into bed around 8:00 at night. She hated being sick. The telephone rang just as she was falling asleep again. She hoped it was an **anonoymous phonecall**, some rude telemarketer or a wrong number, but somehow she knew it was Mulder. And he was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. "Dammit!" she mumbled, "Hello?" "Scully," Mulder's voice said, "Did I wake you up?" "I'd have to be asleep, Mulder." "Scully, I just got this case - " "Mulder, it's Friday night, I'm sick, and you're telling me about a case? This is usually the part where I hang up - " "Wait! Just hold on....this will be right up your alley! Apparantly a man in Texas has been curing people who've come to him with sicknesses and - " "Mulder, that happens all the time, it's called the doctor's office.....and I need to go to sleep." "But this is different. He's not a doctor, he hasn't even passed high school. He's a kindergartener." "What!?!" "Yes. His name is Wilby Shelton. And everyone he touches has been cured almost instantly." "So, are you telling me to cancel my doctor's appointment and pay a visit to a five year old fingerpainter?" "You know me too well." Scully sighed. "Is this an X-file?" "Of course, unless you're going just to meet Wilby Howser, M.D." Scully hung up the phone, relaxed onto her uncomfortably hot bed and stared at the ceiling. Then she dragged out her suitcase. Bryan, Texas Scully slammed the car door and stretched her arms in the sun. "Ah! Personal space!" she sighed happily. Mulder followed suit and then they walked together to a white tent next to a big white house. A sign with crudely written letters read: Religious healing - 25 cents A few letters were backwards and misshapen, obviously the handiwork of a five year old. Mulder looked around and sighed. "Well, let's pay your little magician a visit," Scully said. They pushed aside the curtain to find a five year old in a blue cape with gold stars counting his quarters. "Hi," said Scully. The boy looked up. "You didn't pay to come in here," he said bluntly. "Oh, we have to pay just to see you?" Scully asked astonished, "I thought you only had to pay for the healing!" "**It's a business like any other**. A five year old's got to make his share, you know." They were impressed with the boy's businesslike manner. "If you'll just take a seat, I'll be with you in a moment," he said and motioned to a few chairs that looked like they came out of his kitchen. Mulder looked at Scully. Scully looked at Mulder. This was obviously a business-savvy little kindergartener they were dealing with. "For a religious healer he sure has low rates," Mulder said. The boy walked up. "Ok, how can I help you?" he said seriously in a child's voice. Scully found herself humming, **"Ironic" by Alanis Morsiette.** This child sounded like a car salesman! "You sure have low rates," Scully said sweetly, "why only 25 cents if you're healing people?" "Me? I'm humble. I just want enough to get a candy bar at the end of the week. My mommy doesn't want me to eat too much sugar so I have to get it myself." "Oh, a rebel are we?" Mulder asked. "Shh, don't tell her!" the child begged. "Wilby," Scully asked, "How did you start your....business?" "I was just playing magician. That's all. That's all I'm doing now. I'm a magician." "A magician? But a magician who does religious healings, right?" "I don't really heal anything.....I just pretend to. And then everyone acts like they're so healthy. But I know they're just playing along." "Can you heal my friend here?" Mulder asked, motioning toward Scully. "Did you pay your quarter?" the child asked suspiciously. "Of course!" Scully jumped in, "I'm even paying you a tip!" she said handing him a dollar bill. The child's eyes glowed as he took the dollar and marveled at its green paper. "Hey, thanks, lady!" he said as he turned to his money box. Once he turned around, Wilby smiled and stuck the dollar amidst others like it under the change slots. He thought, "I bet she thinks she's the only person who's done that." Wilby turned around again with his innocent look. Mulder thought, "I bet he thinks he fooled us....." Wilby looked thoughtfully at the woman standing before him. He put his hand on Scully's forehead and said, "I heal you in the name of God." Scully sat still. Then she sniffed. Her nasal passages were clear. Her throat didn't ache. Her eyes widened in amazement, but she stopped herself before Mulder noticed anything. "Well, thanks, Wilby, I feel much better now," Scully said. "My work here is done," Wilby said, "Go in peace." Scully smiled, patted Wilby on the shoulder and exited the tent. "Well?" Mulder asked. Scully continued walking as Mulder trailed her to the car. "Did it work? I mean, are you healed?" "I feel....better...." "So it did work? Wow! Scully what do you think this could mean? Maybe.....he has some religious gift.....hell, what if he's some angel...feigning innocence....pretending ignorance to his powers. Haven't you seen thing like that? Don't you believe in things like that?" "Mulder, I don't want to hear any of your crazy theories. Even if this child was a religious healer I'm sure there's a **scientific, rational explanation.** I haven't thought of it yet but....Mulder, there's nothing more here than a five year old playing businessman and a bunch of neighbors playing along to humor him. And somewhere along the line a tabloid columnist picked up on the joke and tried to make it something more!" "But what if that's what they want you to think?" "Who, Mulder?" "God...his angels.....it's not unlikely. Everyone believes in a religion, and a lot of them believe in angels. Hasn't God sent prophets before? Maybe this child is another "Messenger of God," and maybe this is something you just have to have faith in. According to Catholicism, God's son came as a peasant, not a king or a president. Maybe this time he came as a boy pretending to be an innocent magician." "Mulder, that's preposterous. There's nothing here! Let's go home." "You won't even look a little more into it?" "I'm not investigating a five year old's play habits." "Why, it won't look good on your record?" "It won't look good anywhere!" Scully yelled impatiently. She suddenly felt guilty. Why couldn't she tell him? Why couldn't she just admit that her entire cold had dissipated by the time Wilby Sheldon had took his hand from her forehead? Because if she admitted that something had happened it would open too many doors to her, too many possibilities for her handle? If the idea was too inconceivable to face would she pretend forever that her rational scientific explanation would come? How long could she hide behind her facts? The truth was out there, but she wasn't ready for it. She sighed. "Can we go?" she moaned exhausted. "Sure....**my fish** are probably getting hungry anyway......I forgot to feed them." "You forgot to feed your fish? Very responsible...." "Hey, who's dog got eaten by an alligator? Huh?" **"Queequeg!"** Scully squeaked as the memory came. As they left, little Wilby peeked his head out of his immaculate tent. His bright eyes glowed heavenly and his body was surrounded in a soft white glow. From inside his tent he flapped his wings a few times to stretch them. "Ah...personal space," he said happily, then made them disappear, for another customer was coming. "Wilby" folded his hands together and sat at his desk, a toybox, and waited for the next person he would bless. He set his box of quarters to wait off to the side until he brought them to the local church. "How can I help you?" he asked glowing with childish glee. Washington D.C. Scully checked her e-mail on the **internet** at home. Nothing. But work, of course. Then a letter caught her eye. It was from someone who claimed to be from Bryan, Texas. When she opened it, it read: "Nice doing business with ya'" She looked at the letter with squinted eyes, wondering. "Nah, must be Mulder....." she said and closed the message. She took a sip of her **Mango-Kiwi tropical swirl juice drink**. When Mulder said he'd take her for a drink, she didn't expect to get Hawaii in a blender. "It is pretty good, though," she thought. She started thinking about "Wilby." It seemed, from her Catholic education, that God sent his prophets and angels when the world was in terrible turmoil. The fact that she would allegedly come upon one wasn't by chance was it? And that one would even perform a miracle, if that's what it was, on her is quite an honor. Or was it a sign that she needed to fix something in her life. Or that mankind should as a whole? Were these even her thoughts or God's ideas put in her brain? Scully was perplexed. "Hmmm...the errors of humanity:...abortion....death penalty? Of course there's always things like **the Titanic, where people (1500 to be exact) died strictly from human error**.....or maybe it wasn't the error but the fact they made a movie about it.....speaking of movies, "The Exorcist" is on at 8:00...." And Scully's mind wandered to "The Exorcist" and then to her bed where she fell asleep easily by 11:30 and slept all night..... THE END!!!