Mercedes Jones

"Mercedes! Daddy says we need to go now!"

Mercedes looks longingly at the jewelry display in the store window. The gems sparkle in the light and all five-year old Mercedes wants right now is that necklace—the silver one studded with tiny purple jewels, with a heart hanging at the bottom. That's what she wants. That's all she ever wants.

Her bossy older sister stands ten feet away, stomping her foot as their parents wander away from them. "MUR-SAY-DEEZ!" she screams even louder. "We're leaving! Right now!"

Mercedes turns hesitantly away from the window, unable to take her eyes off the display even as her body turns towards his sister. "Okay," she calls placatingly. "Just a minute."

Right when Mercedes glances at her sister, though, the hanging necklace appears to twitch in her direction. Mercedes' eyes snap right back to the necklace—it's still moving, swinging back and forth as it an invisible wind has stirred it.

An invisible wind in a closed glass case. Impossible.

"MURRRR-SAYYYY—"

"That's enough, Amber," Mommy interrupts, and Mercedes glances back to see her entire family waiting for her. Shamefully, she scampers over to join them.

She only looks back once.

The necklace still sways in the invisible wind.

In fact, all the jewelry is swaying in unison.

Mercedes has trouble tying her shoes. She remembers to hang her jacket up on the hook unlike most of her other classmates; she can recite most of the ABC's from memory; she can finger paint and color within the lines just fine; and she always holds her bladder, unlike Matt, another black kid in her class, who has an accident maybe every other week. But Matt can tie his shoes, and she can't. And as of last week, whenever the teacher isn't looking, Matt has pointed and laughed at her when she fails to run the rabbit around the tree and into the right hole and ends up with a double knot that even their cheerful and super nice teacher, Mrs. Pillsbury can't untie.

Their whiteboard has little colored magnets with different shapes. Mrs. Pillsbury uses them as markers for getting-your-name-on-the-board: if you disobey the teacher, your name goes on the board with a magnet right next to it. Mercedes' name has never been on the board, because she's a good student. And because Mrs. Pillsbury is always nice to her. Mercedes thinks that she is Mrs. Pillsbury's favorite student.

Until today, when Mercedes points and laughs at Matt for wetting himself again. Matt bursts into tears, and Mrs. Pillsbury looks at Mercedes sternly.

"Making fun of Matt is not acceptable," Mrs. Pillsbury says as she places a purple square magnet next to Mercedes' name.

The class gasps, and Mercedes can feel her face filling with hot blood. No. No. This can't be happening. Mrs. Pillsbury can't do to her! Matt's the one laughing at her, not the other way around! And she's always been so perfect, so why is this happening now?

This is the worst day of her life. Mercedes buries her head in her arms and tries to hold back her tears.

When she looks back up, Mrs. Pillsbury is back at her desk. It's coloring time, and everybody else is busy keeping within the lines. Mercedes can't see anything more than the purple magnet next to her name. It's not fair. This isn't fair. It's Matt's fault. This is the worst day of her life. That purple magnet is the reason why she's so miserable. She just wants to pick it off the board and fling it to the floor. Or toss it out the window. But she can't, because her name and the magnet are at the top of the board, twice the height of Mercedes.

But if she could reach it… she'd erase her name and pick the magnet up and bean Mrs. Pillsbury in the head with it. That would satisfy her grudge.

A streak of purple, and then Mrs. Pillsbury yelps. "What… what…" Mrs. Pillsbury gasps, looking around frantically.

Mercedes' eyes bug out. The magnet next to her name… isn't there anymore. In fact, Mrs. Pillsbury is now holding that magnet in her hand.

Mercedes cries into her pillow. Mrs. Pillsbury called her parents, who came and picked her up. And after they talked to her for what seemed like forever, they grounded her and sent her up to her room without dessert.

Worst day of her life.

And it's all because of stupid Matt and stupid Mrs. Pillsbury.

And that stupid purple magnet that flew. The one that beaned Mrs. Pillsbury on the forehead and left a red, square-shaped mark.

The one that obeyed her command.

"Mommy, can I please have that necklace?"

Mommy barely glances over the glass case. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't bring my money today."

Mercedes tugs on her mother's fingers, her hands still not large enough to grasp an adult palm firmly. "Then why don't you just use that plastic card to get it for free?" she whines.

Mommy laughs. "Hon, I don't like to use that plastic card often. We only save it for special occasions. Like when we go out to dinner." She pats Mercedes on the head. "Or ice cream."

"But it's too cold for ice cream," Mercedes argues. She eyes the motionless necklace again, hanging there from two hooks to display its beautiful string of purple jewels. "Please Mommy, I really, really want it!"

"I'm sorry, Mercedes," Mommy sighs. "Not now."

"No! I want it now!"

"We can't afford it now," Mommy states, walking away from the display case. "Come along, Mercedes. Daddy and Amber are waiting for us."

Mercedes sits down in front of the case. "No! I want it right now!" she wails. If she doesn't get it now, she'll never get it. Her parents will keep putting it off, and then Amber will ask for something and they'll get it for her right away. It always happens that way.

Mommy tries to pull her up, but Mercedes sits her butt on the floor and refuses to move. "Nooooo! I want the necklace! Please, Mommy, I just want the necklace! Please please please—" With every please, Mercedes bounces on the floor, trying to drag her mother down.

"Mercedes, you are being a very bad girl," Mommy says sternly.

"No, I just want the purple necklace," Mercedes cries, bouncing one last time. "PLEASE."

The clink of jewelry. Mercedes' head shoots up and locks onto the display case. Inside, earrings and bracelets rock, as if somebody had taken the entire case and shaken it up.

But they're not swinging naturally. Some hang still, undisturbed, but others—like her favorite necklace—seem to be trying to fling themselves off their hooks at her. An anklet flips off its hook and hits the glass, where it stays there.

"What… what's going on?"

Mercedes glances up at her mother and freezes. Fear is plastered all over her mother's face. She holds her hoop earrings in each hand; when she releases one, instead of swinging freely under gravity, it is pulled straight down and tenses.

Something skitters behind the floor behind her. Mercedes turns around—little bits of scrap metal like paperclips and bobby pins and staples scuttle towards her from their hiding places under benches and in dusty corners.

"Mommy, what's happening?" Mercedes asks frantically from her position on the floor. But Mommy is backing away from her slowly, her hands still scooped around her hoop earrings.

The display case above her clinks again. More jewelry is being drawn off their hooks and hits the glass with dull thuds. Nearby pedestrians are starting to notice. A cell phone clatters to the floor and scoots towards her. Mercedes crawls towards her only known sanctuary: "Mommy!"

Mommy snaps out of her stupor. She hurriedly takes off her earrings and drops them to the floor, where they also begin to skate along the tiles towards Mercedes—but then her mother has her in full embrace, cooing softly as she rocks her daughter back and forth. "It's going to be okay, hon," Mommy whispers. Mercedes buries her head in her mother's shoulder and blocks out everything else: the tinkling of scrap metal drawn on invisible strings, the gasps of people, the clanging of jewelry in the store behind her throwing itself to the floor.

In her mother's arms, Mercedes is perfectly safe. By the time everything stops moving, she's fallen asleep.

Kurt Corcoran

It's been almost six months since Kurt first came to live at Elgen. Every morning, he wakes up and does some simple exercises while hooked up to the machines, then hops in the car with Will, who drives him to elementary school. Will said it was okay to lie about his age and say he's one year older, so to everybody in his first grade class, he's six. He's definitely smarter than anybody in his class, and they all admire him for it. Nobody bullies him, ever, because his escort stands in the back of the room to protect him at all times.

After school, Will takes him to the zoo, or the library, or the museum, or the aquarium, and teaches him stuff. Sometimes, Will even tells him to use his power to scare other people—not like screaming-in-fear scary, but more like nervous-paranoid scary. Kurt can do different levels of scary now, and it's all because Will taught him how to control his power.

Sometimes before dinner, like once a month, he talks to Mommy and gets to see videos of her singing and acting and dancing with other people, and she looks so happy. Even her hair is back to its bouncy brown curls, without any gray.

When night time comes around, Kurt gets lonely—even scared. It's then that Will, not Mommy, tucks him in and sits by his bed reading a book or working on a tablet computer until Kurt falls asleep.

Still, Kurt wants to play with other children. He doesn't miss Sugar or Azimio, but sometimes, when he gets in the car with Will to go to the flower gardens, Kurt looks wistfully out the window at the other children playing together.

So for his upcoming birthday, Kurt only has two wishes. Number one: for a pair of sensible heels, to go with his future wedding dress. And number two: for a sister. He's watched two girls in particular: Brittany and Heather. Heather seems to be younger than her sister Brittany, but she protects the older girl from hurting herself and patiently explains simple concepts. He's seen what they share: tight, unwavering love. They're part of a constant team, working together. Best friends don't always do that.

Will is completely serious when Kurt brings it up. "Of course, Kurt," Will answers. "We're looking for your sister even as we speak."

Kurt's mouth drops. "You mean I already have a sister?"

Will nods. "She's actually a fraternal twin; she was born at the same time you were. She was adopted by somebody else, though, and we don't know where they went."

Kurt takes a moment to process this. "So… I have a sister… but you don't know where she is?"

Will nods. "I'm sorry, Kurt. We're doing our best… but in the meantime, I would like you to meet a new friend."

Kurt's eyes light up. "Really? Who?"

A door opens, and an Elgen servant escorts a black girl to the table. Her hair is tied back in pigtails and nervousness radiates off her in waves that Kurt can feel across the room. Kurt looks into her eyes, then down at neck when something glints there.

"I really like your necklace," Kurt comments, giving her the same reassuring grin Will has mastered. It's beautiful: glittering silver with purple studs and a large, flat, crystal purple heart hanging from the center.

Another emotion wells up when he says that, and Kurt unconsciously reaches out to her. He reaches into her mind and does something he's never done before—he calms her down. He siphons the electricity from her mind, reducing the amount of firing synapses.

He can see it in her eyes; some twitching anxiety drains away, and she walks over to the other empty seat at the table.

"Mercedes, this is Kurt," Will introduces. "Kurt, Mercedes."

"Hi," the black girl says shyly, fingering the necklace.

Kurt grins back confidently. He can wait for his sister; Mercedes, on the other hand… "We're gonna be best friends."

Will Schuester

Will's Observations:

Mercedes:
- insecure and emotionally dependent. Responds well to kindness. Family history suggests neglect and slight favoritism of older sister.
- reserved and sensitive. Use gentle voice when speaking to her.
- power of material magnetism. Unable to consciously control intensity or appearance; tied to emotional stability.
- possible development of human magnetism? It's a stretch...
- strong emotional connection to music. Damn, she has a voice.
- strong emotional connection to necklace, a last memento from her mother. Good for emotional stability, but ties her to the outside world.

Kurt:
- used his power in initial interaction with Mercedes. Instead of amplification of fear, he inhibited. Further study of development.
- still emotionally connected to mother, though he considers Elgen as home.
- responded well to news of twin sister. Place tracker spiders on the internet for keywords "Berry", "Elgen", "Pasadena hospital", "birth records", etc.
- asked for a pair of "sensible" heels. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Another potential electrical child found in reports: boy who stabbed another child with nothing but his bare hands. Witnesses (who are all children) say the assailant's hand flashed white before he stabbed the victim. Doctors are stymied by the wound, which is thoroughly cauterized. Send lawyer to investigate.

Author's Rant

Guess who the third child is? (Surprise! Another child will make an appearance... I wanna get all the Gleeks together ASAP!)

Some references:
- About Mercedes' older sister's name: the actress' name, the one who portrays Mercedes, is Amber. (In the Glee universe, Mercedes doesn't have a sister.)
- If you read this story the very first day I posted, you may have been confused this chapter. I meant to rename Hatch as Will, which I forgot to do when I initially posted this story. It's been fixed. Will is Elgen's representative man. Note that. Sorry!
- Kurt's twin sister is...
- Which means that Kurt's mom is...

Elgen Academy's Gleeks are just beginning to gather together... Reviews appreciated much!

Words: 2600
Cameos:
~ Emma Pillsbury as Mercedes' first grade teacher. Her character on Glee seems more suited to dealing with children than with counseling crazy hormonal teenagers.
~ Matt, a speechless backup dancer from Glee's first season, appears as just another classmate. He had maybe three lines for the entire season, and the actor quit the show precisely because of the lack of storylines given him. Too bad he didn't stick it out - look what happened to Mike Chang.