(Brief notes: Here is the second story based on the thread I created on the IMDB under the film "X-Men: The Last Stand" entitled "Create you own mutant." Remember, positive reviews feed my strength! I will not create the third chapter of Recruits, then come back to this one. Enjoy!)
DISCLAIMER: Clavita Cruz is the property of the user Glocktwentyseven, and Delusion is the property of the user Goodness Gracious.
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7:30 am
Twelve year-old Clavita Cruz had been in a deep sleep when the shrill ringing of her alarm clock once again alerted her to the beginning of another productive day.
Fighting to extricate herself from the bed sheets and soft warm blankets that had somehow tangled and ensnared her at some point during the night, Clavita groggily shut off her alarm and gave a great yawn, bits of sleep still clouding her mind. With a tired chuckle, she wondered why she even bothered with an alarm clock; the sounds of cars, people, and honking horns coming form the streets below could do the job just as easily. But then, the street noise could not be properly timed, and since Clavita had happened to find her neighbor throwing out his old, broken alarm clock one day... Waste not, want not, she reasoned.
She was briefly tempted to burrow back under the covers for a bit longer. It wasn't that she was unenthusiastic about a new day. She was just opponent to sacrificing the warmth of her bed for the chilly morning air of her apartment. That, and the prospect of her delicate feet treading on the cold wooden floor. From the comfort of her bed, Clavita let her eyes wander around her bedroom.. Its title was barely deserved; there was only just enough room for a bed, dresser and desk. The amount of free space was ridiculously low, but then again, that made it all the more easier to vacuum once a week.
Well, idle hands were the devil's busywork, as they say. In a flash, Clavita threw off the covers and tiptoed very quickly across her bedroom, her ill-fitting pajamas swishing audibly. Fighting against the stinging cold that always permeated her apartment's floor at the current time of the year, she only let her feet relax upon reaching the relative comfort of her bathroom rug, set atop the worn and cracked tile floor. Shutting the door with an ear-aching squeak, Clavita twisted the knob of her shower. After a few rattles and squeaks, a torrent of heated water gushed down from the slightly rusted and dented showerhead, filling the room with blessed steam.
She let the steam envelop her for a moment, reveling in the fact that (for the moment) the cold of space was outwitted. It made her feel, even for just fifteen minutes, that she could conquer the elements themselves.
**********
7:45 am
Wrapped in a towel and pitter-pattering awkwardly in her slippers, Clavita thoroughly scrutinized her meager wardrobe to decide on the day's outfit. Frowning thoughtfully, she carefully moved one hanger containing an article of clothing from one side to the other, pondering its usefulness.
She sighed. The simple task of getting dressed often took nearly twenty minutes. Clavita still could not figure out why. She certainly did not have much to choose from. She took out an old T-shirt and promptly moved it to a lower drawer, deciding that the weather would no longer agree with it. Despite only being early October, the climate felt like something more akin to mid-November. She examined a collection of turtlenecks she'd received from the Salvation Army that were, despite their age and outdated style, cute on her. She held up a pair of second-hand jeans that she had purchased for practically nothing at a clothing store's "Going Out Of Business Sale." Although she had managed to sew up the hole in one of the thigh areas, and even embroidered a floral pattern that she was proud of, she had worn them a few times per week for as long as she could remember. Although repetition was beneficial in some ways, she wanted to wear something different today.
She took out a lovely wool sweater that fit her perfectly. Clavita smiled at the memory of how she came into possession of it. It had been almost a year ago, she had spent the day in adjoining Essex County researching some historic sites both for pleasure and education when she happened across a garage sale. She'd fished out the sweater from a box marked "$5.00 Each." The house's owner walked by her at precisely that time, asking the innocent-looking girl if she needed help. Ordinarily, Clavita only purchased cheaper clothes in order to more adequately remain in her budget, but she just loved the sweater too much. Her prodigious mind quickly overcame such an obstacle. She smiled sweetly at the middle-aged man and feigned broken English, asking the price despite it being clearly labeled in front of her. Since her accent was most convincing, and the charmingly naive man had assumed she was a poor young immigrant girl without many possessions, he happily sold it to her for a measly fifty cents.
It was that memory that convinced her to choose the sweater as her article of choice for the day. Besides, she mused, the sandy color of it complimented her eyes and skin tone. After hastily choosing some corduroy pants she'd picked up at the Goodwill, she made a mental note to check if her sewing kit's supplies had dwindled.
**********
8:10 am
Clavita flicked on the light of her kitchenette and paused momentarily. She had long since concluded that this was her least favorite component of her apartment. Though the kitchen was not in need of any repair and was kept vigorously clean, every morning when she turned on the light and watched the flickering florescent bulb bathe the counters, sink and stove in an eerie white glow, her heart was filled with a fleeting sense of longing. Perhaps it was because the sight of the outdated gas stove reminded her of the many nights she would happily help her mother prepare dinner while maintaining a spirited conversation with her full of laughter.
Or how the counters jogged Clavita's memory of the visits she and her parents had made to see her maternal grandmother in San Cristóbal. Rosa would sit her then seven year-old granddaughter on the counter of her tiny little house that, despite being occupied by only one person, radiated warmth and love. She adored the child immensely, teaching her all the old songs and stories that had been handed down through the generations of their family while she sat on the counter with great excitement and awe..
The sink was similar to the one Clavita had often seen in her apartment growing up. Many were the nights she'd sneak out of bed to get a glass of water, only to find her mother washing something, humming to herself. Clavita had smiled when she observed the way her father would walk up behind her mother, wrap both arms around her torso, and draw her close, whispering sweet words into her ear. Her mother would turn, and with her hands still wet and soapy, she wrapped her arms around her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. Clavita beamed with untold happiness, seeing two adults interact with such love and devotion for each other.
But now there was never any laughter or cheer echoing from the stove. It was only used about once or twice a day. Her grandmother had since passed on, and the many stories and songs she had been taught were alarmingly beginning to fade. Whenever she'd ventured out of her bed in the middle of the night for a drink, she was met with only a cold, dark, empty room with no one else in sight. To her, the tiny kitchenette symbolized two things: a past she desperately wished for, and a future she thought she could never have.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Clavita poured some oats into a bowl, and set a pot of water on the stove to boil.
***********
8:45 am
After quickly washing her bowl and spoon, brushing her teeth, applying a quick coat of mascara and fixing her hair, Clavita was finally out the door. Well, almost out the door. She halted briefly to collect her trademark black bag. Once outside, she locked her apartment door with a quick turn of her key, and trotted down the nine flights of stairs. She decided against using the elevator. From what she'd heard from the other tenants on her floor, the building superintendent still had yet to fix it. The story of a single mother with her two children being trapped in the elevator for twelve straight hours still spread through the building like wildfire, and Clavita reasonably decided not to tempt fate.
Stepping out of her apartment into the chilly morning air, Clavita walked surefooted down the city street. She noticed Owen, a handyman from another building, methodically patching a crack in the pavement. Upon hearing Clavita's dainty footsteps, the man turned and smiled cordially.
"Morning, sweetheart," he said as if addressing one of his own children.
"Morning, Owen," she responded, nodding her head and slowing her pace somewhat.
"How's your Auntie?"
"Oh, she's great," Clavita answered convincingly, flashing an angelic smile. "She really loves Autumn. Too bad she has to work most of the time..."
"Well," Owen mused, scraping his trowel carefully. "She's keepin' a roof over your head, and that's the most important thing."
"Oh, absolutely," Clavita bowed slightly. "Well, I have to get going. I don't want to be late. I have a study session."
"Sure, sure," Owen answered, waving her off. "Don't let me keep you."
With that, Clavita briskly walked away and out of sight. Owen peacefully continued his repair work for another minute before raising his head and furrowing his brow. "A study session before school?" he asked himself in confusion. He shrugged and continued his work. "Poor girl. Takes everything so seriously..."
**********
9:10 am
Squinting mildly in the rising sun, Clavita entered the pristine and beautiful Boston Common for another day of "work." Stepping around a sleeping homeless man and making sure to avoid an angry-looking goose by the pond, she purged her mind of emotions. Now it was all business. Eventually she reached a small group of square, metal tables, each with two wrought iron chairs. Sighing, she plopped herself down in one and waited. It wouldn't be long now...
Concentrating her vision, Clavita could just make out the outline of the Massachusetts State House, just across Beacon Street to the north. As a result, this area of the park was often frequented by white-collar types. Businessmen, attorneys, city council members... she'd even seen the governor once. Whether they were in the park to rest their nerves in between court dates, or simply to converse with their colleagues in a more friendly atmosphere, Clavita appreciated their arrival. Of course, she appreciated their money a little bit more.
Smiling like a cat that had just attained the cream, Clavita took from out of her black bag a folding chess board and all thirty-two pieces, half of which were dark red, the other half white.
**********
9:20 am
As if on cue, the massive shape of Dr. Terrence McNamara came into focus. He was a large man with thick glasses and a bushy, walrus-like moustache. He was dressed smartly in an expensive gray suit and carried a leather briefcase that looked well-made. He smiled and raised a hand upon noticing the petite, Latino girl who waited expectantly.
"You, again?" the man asked with a good-natured chuckle.
"Oh," Clavita asked with exaggerated innocence. "Was I here before?"
"Come on, now," Dr. McNamara remarked as he set his case down on the stone walkway. "This has become one of your little hobbies, hasn't it?"
"You could say that," Clavita commented, smiling brightly. "So, meeting today?"
"Yes, indeed." Dr. McNamara sat down in the chair; its iron flexing somewhat. "I have to meet with a new client later, and my boss wants to get together for drinks at some point."
"Ooooh," Clavita commented. "That must be exciting."
"Exciting, nerve-racking, whichever," he chuckled again. "But games of chess always seem to clear my head."
The girl grinned. "Glad I can help," she said, examining the chess pieces. "Your move..."
**********
9:22 am
"Checkmate," Clavita stated proudly, moving her rook into place while her opponent watched dumbfounded.
"...How...?"
"It's a gift," Clavita replied, already setting up the pieces for the next game. Dr. McNamara just shook his head and stood up.
"I must be getting old... I just can't win against you."
"Think of these as lessons, sir,"
The huge man sighed and reached a hand into his pocket. He withdrew a twenty dollar bill and handed it over to the girl, who eyed it hungrily.
"Thank you," she chirped, stuffing the bill into her pocket. "Another time, maybe?"
Dr. McNamara looked at the girl smiling wishfully and couldn't resist smiling himself. "My pleasure, Miss Cruz." He nodded his head and lumbered off. Clavita waved after him, then instantly turned her attention to other potential challengers in her vicinity.
**********
9:40 am
Clavita observed the two students who had wandered into the area. A boy and a girl, they were clearly of college age, and the boy was sporting a jacket with the trademark colors of the University of Massachusetts. The chess hustler waited patiently, carefully analyzing these newcomers, deciding the best way to entice one of them into playing.
The couple was walking along the park, seemingly having a conversation with each other. That in itself was not unusual. It was the disposition of the male which intrigued Clavita. His jacket had been unzipped, and he was only wearing a light T-shirt underneath. Clearly his body was overheating. He occasionally wiped his hands on his jeans, a definite indication of excessive perspiration. His breathing was labored, and he seemed to be trying to avoid looking in the girl's direction. The girl was sporting a small smile and did not seem to mind walking closely to her male counterpart.
In a matter of seconds, Clavita understood. These two college students were friends, probably talking about classes or something. But the boy was interested in being more than friends. He wanted this friend to become his girlfriend. That was the only explanation for his uneasiness, their relatively close proximity, and the fact that the girl was oblivious.
Thinking swiftly, Clavita decided that he was anxious to try and get her to think about him in the same way. Clavita had to "morph" her personality to accommodate his desire, so as to more easily attract him as a customer.
Well, she had been the "innocent sweet girl" for Dr. McNamara, but this boy needed something else... yes... she needed to provide this boy with an opportunity for his friend to see him in a new light.
Less than two seconds later, Clavita had planned a routine. "Hey, mister!" she shouted at the duo. "Want to challenge me?"
The boy turned quickly; probably anxious to focus his mind on something else. The girl turned as well, albeit more out of curiosity.
"...Are you talking to me?" he asked. Clavita put on a rictus grin and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!" she said. "It'll be fun! I love to play this game. Don't you think it's the greatest? I've been playing for, like, years!"
The female student grinned and turned to the boy. "She is so cute!" she whispered. Unfortunately, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear caused him to suddenly become flustered.
"I charge twenty dollars a game," Clavita said mock-businesslike. "But that's only if you lose. See, I never lose!"
The female student put a hand over her mouth and laughed softly. She nudged her friend in the ribs and nodded.
"Are you serious, Delia?" he asked.
"Come on, look at her," the female responded in a whisper, though Clavita could still hear her fairly well. "She's all alone in the park. She probably has no friends. She must come from a poor family or something, and so she has to do this. Go on... she'll really appreciate it."
"Well..." he said, looking toward the chess board.
**********
9:55 am
Unbeknownst to her opponent, Clavita had intentionally let this game drag on a bit, rather than dispatch the boy in her usual two to seven minutes. It was all part of her plan. In order for her to remain in business, she had to keep her vast intellect a secret most of the time. She had to make everything look convincing. During the past fifteen minutes, the child had willingly forced her face to change from a look of confidence to uneasiness and now, worry and fear. She completed the illusion by breathing heavily and trembling her hand. Her opponent just watched the board closely, while his female counterpart looked at Clavita worryingly. Finally, the young girl plastered a look of excitement on her face and moved her remaining bishop into place, trapping the White King.
"Checkmate!" she declared, breathing a sigh of relief.
The boy laughed and stood. "Hey, I was lucky. You're a talented player." He fished out two ten dollar bills and handed them over to the very appreciative child.
"Ready to go, Delia?" he asked nervously.
"Yeah, let's go," his friend said. When the boy was a good ten feet away, Delia quickly bent down toward Clavita.
"Hey, did he let you win?"
Fighting the urge not to laugh, Clavita just nodded dishonestly.
"Yeah," she said, smiling and looking at the ground. "He's really sweet."
Delia nodded, looking at her friend. "Yeah...," she remarked, enlightened. "He is..."
Delia ran off to rejoin her friend, walking a little closer to him this time.
No sooner had they left, Clavita quickly reset the board, and tried to excavate her original personality.
Oh well, she mused as she spied a well-dressed, middle-aged woman taking photographs of trees. All in a day's work. "Excuse me, Ma'am. Do you like chess?"
**********
2:30 pm
Her stomach rumbling and her hands greasy and grimy from the constant touching of less-than-crisp dollar bills, Clavita counted up the day's profits. The total came to four-hundred and twenty dollars all in all. She had not expected to have so many challengers on a weekday. Then again, some of her "customers" were recurring, such as Dr. McNamara. It was amazing, she periodically reflected, how many people would pay hard-earned money to try and massage their ego by attempting to defeat a twelve year-old girl in a game of chess.
Folding up her money and stuffing it tightly in her pocket, Clavita packed up her chess set and made her way out of the park. She was absolutely ravenous, and didn't think she could accomplish too much more today unless she acquired some nourishment quickly.
**********
2:40 pm
"¡Hola, mi estimado!" the older woman greeted Clavita upon hearing her open the glass door to the restaurant with a ring of bells. "¡Sí, venga adentro! ¡Salga del tiempo frío!" the woman ordered cheerfully, smiling with every one of her pearly white teeth.
Clavita let the door swing shut, wondering if she should feel offended or not. Just because she was of Hispanic descent didn't necessarily mean that she automatically spoke Spanish. She had been born and raised in the USA, after all. Not all Americans knew every hint of their ancestry. Of course, she was unable to take much offense, considering that she did indeed speak fluent Spanish, thanks to her parents and casual study of the language. But still...
"¿Sí, es frío, hoy, no es?" Clavita replied as politely as she could, her blood sugar diminishing by the second.
"¿Qué usted desea, mi estimado?" the woman asked, intrigued by her newest customer.
The girl studied the large menu hungrily. She felt hungry enough to eat one of everything, but knew that her mind was playing a trick on her. She did not like to leave leftovers too often.
"Ah..." she began, while the woman behind the counter waited with that unfaltering smile. "¿Puedo tener algunos Arroz con Gandules, con tres taquitos, por favor?"
"¡Sí, por supuesto!" the woman happily replied, writing down the order on a scrap of paper.
"... Y una Pimiento relleno, por favor."
**********
3:00 pm
Polishing off the remnants of her lunch, Clavita tossed the empty Styrofoam container into a nearby trash can and marched up the steps of the gigantic Boston Public Library. Opening the door, she was met with the familiar sounds (or lack thereof) and sights of what she had since declared her favorite place to be. Navigating her way through the labyrinth of bookshelves, she located a book she had begun last week: The Breaking of the American Social Compact, written by the late Richard Cloward. Sitting herself down in an aged wooden chair, Clavita took out a notebook and pen from her bag, and flipped through the pages scribed with countless notes and questions until finding a blank one. She took a deep breath to clear her mind of chess games and Puerto Rican restaurants, and began to read.
**********
7:45 pm
Her own bag slung over her shoulder and now lugging a paper bag full of groceries she'd bought from a local market, Clavita trudged her way back home. She made sure to walk down streets she knew to be frequented by police officers. It gave her a sense of reassurance and safety. The bag she held contained mostly fruits and vegetables, eggs, milk, bread, and some Swiss cheese. Turning the corner, she noticed two small children walking with their parents toward the family's car. The kids looked content to be in the company of their loved ones.
Clavita promptly looked away, her stomach muscles tightening.
**********
8:55 pm
Collecting her mail on the way up, she made it back to her apartment room. After a quick dinner of scrambled eggs and sauteed carrots, she sat down on her sofa to pay some bills. Each of the letters (addressed to a "Ms. Anna Vasquez") was either a utilities bill, gas bill, or simply a note from the superintendent personally thanking her for being one of the more quiet residents, and that he appreciated her as a tenant. Clavita shook her head sadly. The kindly old superintendent may have some difficulty casually socializing with a woman who did not exist.
**********
10:00 pm
Changing into her baggy pajamas once again, Clavita curled up in her soft, warm bed and turned off her small night table light. She stared at the ceiling for a while, the blackness of the night overwhelming her vision. Her mind, still throbbing with activity over the latest chapters of the book she'd read earlier, slowly wandered off to other thoughts.
She drifted back to when her mother would sit in a chair next to her bed when she was sick, softly stroking her back until she fell asleep... When her father used to take her out to explore the city on weekends and point out every historic site; partly out of devotion, but mostly because Clavita was always hungry for knowledge in any form.... She thought back to every wonderful moment from her idyllic childhood, and wondered.
She wondered why things had changed the way they had. She wondered if she was on the right path. She wondered what the future had in store for her.
She was wondering until she finally nodded off; a single tear streaming from her closed eye.