Saturday
I'd had a glass of orange juice as my breakfast—if I didn't at least show my face then Dad would get nosy—well, if he noticed. Now I was working on my homework—well, that's what I'd told Dad. I did have homework to do, but I wasn't looking at it. I couldn't get yesterday out of my head. I'd gone to school like usual but couldn't shake the pervading sense of wrongness. The teachers were wrong, the students were wrong, the building was wrong. The classes were, well, they were normal. Nothing unusual actually happened, except that deep sense of brokenness. It would've been one of the best days in a while, if it weren't for the conclusion.
I'd managed to notice all of Madison's petty little pranks before she pulled them on me and somehow had avoided them. Cute little Madison, so childish and and innocent. I knew different, but she was good at projecting her image. If I'd been new to the school I might even have believed it. Yesterday she'd seemed different, beneath her bubbly exterior I got the sense of someone deeply unhappy, acting the way she was out of habit and … obligation maybe? She clearly got no joy out of tormenting me—well, trying and failing to. I'd've expected her to be frustrated by that, angry even—but she wasn't. If I'd done that to Emma she would have escalated and escalated till I left the school in tears.
So for once I had a day without adding any new juice stains, or having to shake pencil shavings out of my hair, or pluck tacks from my shoes. That would have made it a good day—but then there was Sophia. She… she was always the physical one. Her obvious self assuredness and lithe track star body made her stand out in a crowd—but I didn't see any of that—what I saw was a hateful girl who never failed knock my things on the floor as she passed. A girl whose foot would somehow end up in front of mine as I descended the last few steps on the school's staircases. The girl who'd accidentally shoulder into me knocking me sprawling on the floor, laughing about how clumsy I was. But more than anything, the girl who'd taken my best friend from me.
Yesterday she'd punched me. Like, actually, with a fist. She'd been up to her usual games and after all these months I guess something had finally clicked and I was able to see them coming. Somehow I was able avoid her her, hopping over her feet, side stepping her in the hall, I guess she wasn't trying very hard, I'd never managed to avoid her even once in the past.
After lunch I had a study hall that I spent in the library. When she saw me in the library, I knew I was in trouble. Her face was a mask of frustration. She expressed her displeasure at my being too "slippery" and how people like me shouldn't try to avoid what we had coming to us. I don't know what I did to set her off at that point. Maybe I didn't cower enough? Maybe I cowered too much? Either way she punched me, straight on and fast. Despite being unexpected, I somehow I managed to twist a bit before it landed and instead of leaving me with a black eye, she hit me just above my ear, slamming my head back against the stacks. I crumpled to the floor and she did her usual thing about me being the lowest of the low or something. To be honest I wasn't really paying attention any more.
Sitting there on the floor after she left, my head throbbing, all I could think of was how wrong the library felt. How stupid is that? I'd just been assaulted. Like, in a way adults would actually see as assault. And I was fixated on this nebulous sense that everything is just a bit out of place. I did catch the librarian watching me. Fucking figures that she saw everything and did nothing. The fucking staff and fucking teachers at my school. Still, I was just thankful I didn't have to explain a black eye to my father. Some lumps under my hair? Yeah, he'd never notice that—
⁂
My thoughts were interrupted by the door bell and I realized it must be aunt Beth. Dad said she'd be here today but I never got around to asking when. I headed downstairs and saw Dad opening the door and… there she was. She looked hardly any different then I remembered her. Black hair and dark olive skin. And… a few inches shorter than me. I still remember looking up at her the last time I saw her. She was striking in that way that professional women in their forties often are. She exuded a calm confidence and put-togetherness. Dad welcomed her and they hugged and she came in and I was still standing there staring at her. She's the least wrong thing I've seen in days. I'm struck by how inured to the miasma of wrongness I've become. I didn't even know it was still there until saw her. She's not perfect. There's a small crease by her arm on her blouse that wasn't quite ironed out. A few hairs not under control. But—and that's when she spotted me.
"Taylor? There you are!" she said and rushed over and gathered me up in a hug.
It… I… I realized I didn't know the last time I was hugged and it's all too overwhelming and I felt tears rolling down my cheeks and… I held on tighter and managed to croak out. "It's—it's so good to see you aunt Beth." She broke off the embrace and I managed to smile at her. And… it almost felt genuine.
⁂
Once she'd stowed her things in our guest room we all sat down in the living room with some tea. I stared at my teacup hating its imperfection, cracks in the enamel and somehow it had a very faint stain from previous cups of tea and scuff marks on the bottom from stirring and… when I realized that Beth had been speaking for a while.
"… and that's when I moved to DC for a year. I've been setting up facilities in new cities, so once one is going me and my team are moving on."
"Um, what is it that you do aunt Beth?"
She smiled and said "Oh, right, you were probably a bit little to remember any of that weren't you Taylor? I work for a foundation, well, technically it's a public interest corporation. Have you heard of the Vanguard for Universal Solidarity?"
"Ah," it sounded familiar, "maybe? Don't they, like, provide support to Simurgh quarantine zones?" The Simurgh attacked rarely, but she was easily the most feared of her siblings. The lack of volunteers willing to work near the quarantine zones had been an ongoing humanitarian crisis, threatening those inside with something closer to execution than simply segregation.
She smiled, a little tightly I thought. "That is the thing we're probably best known for. We also provide support and services for the homeless, and goodness knows there are more and more of those every day. We also provide free clinics and free alternatives to public schools in places where those schools are failing their students. And well, all sorts of other things. What I do, is help get new services online. Most of the time that means opening locations in new cities."
There was a lull in conversation and oh god, was I supposed to say something? "Uhm, that must be hard? Moving all the time?"
She shook her head. "It was a bit lonely at first, but I have a good team that moves with me and they keep me company…" She continued talking about her work. Dad thankfully picked up my half of the conversation, leaving me to sit quietly.
I sipped my tea and as I watched I felt like I could see the spider web of cracks that was in the teacup forming in the air, almost in the conversation itself, a buzzing haze of brokenness. Words unsaid. I glance at Dad and it was almost as if there was a haze of purple and blue lines around his head. I mean, there wasn't of course. There was just him, looking worn, putting on his best face. But still, somehow he gave the impression one. I turned back to Beth peering more closely at the lines between her and Dad as she talked.
"… so most of our work lately has been trying to establish safe zones in cities," Beth continued.
"Why didn't you come to Mom's funeral?" I blurted out and then immediately slapped my hands over my mouth. Oh god why did I say that? Where did that come from? I…
Beth was silent for a moment, looking stricken. "I… Taylor, I'm so sorry, I wanted to, you don't know how much I wanted to, but, well, I was jail at the time."
Dad just shook his head and said "You always did put your causes before family, didn't you Beth? What was it this time? Handcuff yourself to a PRT gate?"
He looked… not better, but more genuine then he'd looked since he told me she was coming. Angry and hurt. Not mad but something unresolved. Like there was a hurt from a long time ago that he'd never quite gotten rid of.
"It… I guess I deserve that, but Danny, it wasn't like that. I was in Philadelphia at the time and they'd manufactured a witness. Claimed we were building bombs or some nonsense. They came in and arrested our entire office, held us for two weeks then dropped charges. I didn't even know Annette had died till I got out. And well… I should have come then. I'm sorry."
She took a deep breath and looked Dad square on. "I'm not sorry I took this position when I did Danny. It was the right thing to do. We've done so much good. But I'm sorry that I let things go quiet between all of us. I… I was the one leaving, it was on me to keep things going."
Dad looked… surprised and the way his face was set like maybe he was holding back tears?
She turned toward me and I looked at her mortified. I still didn't know where that question had come from…
"Taylor, I'd like to apologize to you too. I shouldn't have disappeared from your life. I…"
Agh, it was too awkward and quickly interrupted her. "It's ok aunt Beth, really, I'm just glad you're here now."
Sensing my desire to change the topic, Beth switched to the only thing worse. "So, how have you been Taylor? How's school?"
Fore the love of… I probably had a haunted expression on my face. I sure felt like I did. I so did not want to talk about this. "It's fine. I'm fine, uh, I've been reading a lot." Ugh, that was probably obvious. Please don't ask more, please, please, please.
"Oh, what have you been reading?" she asked.
Oh thank goodness. "Mostly I've been going through the biography's in Dad's old library… Bakunin, Kropotkin, Goldman." I smiled a little. "It's been really interesting reading about the turn of the last century, but a little depressing how many of the same problems we have today."
Beth grinned, "Ah, so the classics. I can recommend some modern takes on the same topics if you're interested. There's been some particularly interesting writing done around parahumans, given their difficulty in participating in the economy."
⁂
After a few hours of thankfully free of both school and weird vibes between Beth and my father, I was starting to get hungry.
"I think it's about dinner time… can we order out Dad? Can weeeee?"
Dad gave a little laugh. "Sure, I guess so, how about Chinese?"
"That sounds lovely," Beth said, "I can pick it up? I assume there's still no place that'll deliver here? Want to come along Taylor?"
"Ah… sure, I'd like that." Being with her would surely be less awkward then spending time alone with Dad. Today had been… nice? Much less uncomfortable than a few hours sitting across from him usually was.
Dad called in the order and I picked myself up and joined Beth by the door as we both slipped our shoes on. Beth and I walked out to her car. It was an older… something? I don't really know cars. Sedan of some kind. It was a bit dirty, and the tire nearest me looked just a little low on air. On the side I got the sense that it'd been dented something awful and then repaired, though I wasn't sure exactly what caught my eye. And I would swear the windshield had been replaced recently, it seemed fresher somehow then the other glass. Clearly this little car had been through a lot.
"Taylor?"
I blinked and blushed lightly. "Sorry." I made my way around to the passenger side and let myself in. She started the car and I blurted out, "You really need to change your oil." And she did, I could just tell.
She didn't say anything about my outburst for a moment, pulling out of our drive way and on to the road. As we pull away she said "So are cars a hobby for you to?"
"I… no, I don't know anything about them really…"
She was quiet for a few minutes as she navigated the little side streets near our house. Thankfully, so was I.
"We've been slowly adding parahuman services to our organization. Brockton Bay is looking to have our first full team."
I nodded slowly. "But… how does that work? I thought you couldn't pay parahumans to use their powers? Something about not taking jobs from unpowered people?"
"It's possible, but difficult. That's part of why these teams aren't legally affiliated with us, you understand. But we have plenty of resources other than money that are legal for us to provide. Anyone is welcome to our charity of course," she said, and grinned and winked at me. "And that's not to say that we can't slip a little under the table either."
We pulled up to a red light and she turned to me. "Taylor, I'd like you to join that team."
"I… what, but aunt Beth? I'm not a cape… I can't do anything like that…"
She grinned and glanced at me before she pulled through the green. "No? Are you going to tell me that you really could tell from the sound of the car starting that I was overdue for an oil change?"
I… no, I couldn't say that. Maybe… "Maybe… I guess?"
"It seems like some kind of thinker power? Improved insight maybe?" she asked.
I shook my head and looked around and it was suddenly so much clearer. It was like I'd been walking around without my glasses and now I'd put them on. The words came to me as I explained what I had been seeing. "I can see what's wrong with things. Like, I get kind of a sense of a colored haze around anything that's imperfect and that's uh, everything. Sometimes I get a sense of what's wrong with things too? Maybe if I concentrate on the hazes… and wow…" I looked around, taking in the luminous masses of tangled lines, spiderwebbing cracks that almost superimpose everything. "I guess I've been seeing these for a while now but uh, it didn't really make sense until just now."
Beth finished driving us to the Chinese restaurant. She went in and picked up our order while I stared around at the artifacts of my power. My power. I've not been this excited since… I honestly can't remember. I concentrate on a pidgin flying by with a red halo of cracks and get the sense that it has some sort of intestinal parasite. I look in at the person at the counter taking Beth's money, who has copper and black cracks floating over them and get the sense of debt? Gambling debt maybe? And depression?
She sits back down in the car handing me our order to hold on the drive back.
As she backed the car out of the spot she said "So Taylor, wanna join our team?"
And… I do but I don't. I always wanted to be a hero. Like Alexandria or Miss Militia. Even if the VUS is a good cause, joining a quasi-legal offshoot doesn't sound very inspiring.
She seemed to read my thoughts. "You know there are more ways to be heroic then to be a Hero." She said it such that I could feel the capital letter. "What were you thinking? Please tell me you aren't considering the Wards? You know that they're just tools of the PRT."
"I know, heroes like Alexandria just reinforce the hegemony of the kyriarchy." I repeated by rote.
Beth laughed. "That sounds like Annette." And it did. Mom drilled this stuff into me as soon as I started asking for Alexandria toys. "Well, how about I introduce you to our team next week and you can see what it's actually like?"
I smiled. "I'd like that."