Say Hello to Impossibility
I didn't go home that day. I don't believe I'll ever go home; or not for a very long, long time. I was afraid of what my mother would say, of what my sister would do. Good reason to, too. After the assumption that I was totally cured, it would either break my mother, or turn her against me. I still don't know which one would be worse.
That night, I slept under the awning at the train station. I couldn't fall asleep completely. I was afraid a policeman would come and kick me awake, or some homeless guy would try to steal my belongings, as meager as they were. I was hungry, I was cold. My stomach twisted with a hunger so terrible I couldn't walk. It was as if my body was eating itself from the inside out. My lips were chapped and cracked from the cold. I couldn't stop shivering.
The morning was humiliating and frightening. It didn't seem like I was very far from fear. There was blood on my clothes, and my mom probably sent the Marines out to search for me. I knew everyone stared from the corner of their eyes. They wanted to know how this boy became homeless, where were his parents. One woman had even gone to summon the security guard, but I was gone before he could come to pick me up. The following days were much the same. I learned not to be prejudice of food that was on the ground. Those few days without warmth, proper food and rest were some of the biggest lessons I could ever be taught in my short life. Simple things like fresh water or a sweater were luxury. Every moment was excruciating.
At one point, I had thought of turning myself into the cops, but then I thought of the mutant that had died in my arms. Would the police treat me any differently? Would my mother let me come back home; or would she let the government take me to some basement in a remote hospital and do experiments on me?
No, I couldn't risk any one of a million possibilities. There was only one place for me to go. I just hoped they would let me in when I came a-knocking.
Not exactly.
At the time I walked up the front steps of Professor Xavier's school, it was a torrential downpour. I was soaked through, and maybe that was good. I hadn't taken a shower since the day I never returned home. My mind had been so screwed I could hardly keep track of my feet.
But, I didn't have to wait long to see the reaction my arrival had created.
The door swung in before my knuckles could make contact with the wood. Professor Xavier was…sitting there at the door. This time, his eyes were not very welcoming. He glared up at me from his chair. I felt as if he really was seven feet tall. He was flanked by my other teachers when I attended Mutant High. It was kind of weird how I thought of the institution now, but, it was a welcoming feeling. Professor Xavier couldn't turn me away unless he wants a good dose of guilt and some bad ass hostility from the human community.
With surprising strength Professor Xavier reached over the threshold and swung me inside. I quickly tripped over my feet and tumbled to the floor. I looked up at the mutants and saw their faces, tensed. I felt as if I had walked into a trap rather than an oasis. For a brief moment I was wishing I hadn't come. But, just for a brief moment. Professor Xavier spoke.
"I'm guessing your powers made themselves apparent to---,"
"Professor, I'm sorry."
"It's not for you to apologize, Lance." Professor Xavier's face softened. His voice took up a resigned note, "It's I who should be apologizing. Stand up."
I rose from the floor like someone was pulling on my collar.
Professor Xavier, apologizing?
"Before we discuss anything, you should get out of those wet clothes, and get something warm in your stomach."
Professor Xavier turned to go but I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "Wait. Professor Xavier---,"
"No arguments. I am aware that you are suffering from exposure and exhaustion. You can relax now, Lance. No harm will come to you."
"But, will it come to others on my behalf."
Professor Xavier paused a moment before answering. When he did, his voice held resolve, "That is what the X-men are for."
That was the end of that. I followed a teacher to my old dorm room. No one new had come because I still had my old bed, facing the basketball court. I looked out of it now, wondering what kids are going to think of me tomorrow. The humiliation was unthinkable, so I turned my mind to other things.
When I found myself in Professor Xavier's office, I couldn't help but feel the same feeling I had when I was standing outside, about to knock. Mutant High felt more like home than ever. I was wearing sweats, a tee, and a matching hoodie. It was like I was ready to turn in and came down to wish Professor Xavier good night.
Professor Xavier was sitting behind his desk. Logan stood in one corner with Storm, and Cyclops behind Professor Xavier.
"Where's Professor Grey?" I asked. It was kind of funny. Her name suited the moment perfectly. Grey, dark, secretive.
"Professor Jean Grey is taking care of other matters. What we are about to discuss is what happened to you the day you met those two boys."
"They were beating---!"
"I understand, Lance. None of it was your fault. We don't know much of what happened that day, so why don't you start from the beginning."
"Can't you just read my mind, or something?"
"Yes. I could. But your mind is very delicate at the present and I am not the only one who needs to hear this."
"What do you mean 'delicate'?"
"Start talking, Featherbrains."
As you all might guess, that was Logan calling my Featherbrains. He had an irritating knack of calling people out of context. I was the only person who seemed to have a problem with it. I took a deep breath and let it out. Here goes nothing.
"I got out of school, a little late…
I usually get out at about---1:40…I didn't leave until 3 o'clock. Mr. Lemmon said I was cheating on his test, so I had to take it over again. I got out, took the long way home like I always do. No big deal, right…
Only, I saw these two kids beating up this other kid.
I just stood there. I didn't know what to do. I've never been in a fight before, I'm not used to talking to people I don't know either. So I just stood there. Didn't do anything. Then, I realized they were beating up a mutant. So, I say to myself, 'what the hell?' you know? 'None of my business.' But, what if it did become my business? You know, what if those kids thought I was a mutant, or what if I looked just like that one on the ground? I'd probably be that same kid in the gutter and I'd want someone to help me…
So, I helped him.
I didn't really know what to do, and I didn't know what would happen. You know, I-I just thought…I don't know. So, I slapped him. Heh heh. What damage would that do? You slap somebody, you get slapped back, only harder…I didn't know what would happen...
I, h-his face just seemed to fall away like water…I mean, the side of his face fell away from is face…and when he fell he fell on the side that I hit him…like he fell on purpose he fell on that side of his face or his head because he didn't have a face to the side of his head. And his head just---it just sort of caved in. and his friend saw me. There's no possible way his friend didn't see what he did. He didn't need to run 'cus all he would have to say is that I killed the mutant and I turned around and…his friend. He'd make me look like the bad guy. I had to get out of there. What happened if I got arrested and I never got to go home? People would start asking questions…asking about what happened to that kid's face. I never meant for any of it to happen, I was just trying to help. So I just ran. I didn't know where I was going at first. I've slept outside and on bus stops from home to here. You know how they say 'the best place to hide is out in the open'? I must have passed about a dozen police and they haven't arrested me. For food, I just ate anything that came to hand. I looked through the garbage after a cookout or something. I asked people for money or ripped off a hot dog stand. I was hungry and the best way to stay out of anyone's hands was to stay on the run.
I didn't make up my mind to come here until I reached Roxbury, Mass. I couldn't find a lot of food there and the only people who seemed to be off guard were the tourists. There aren't a lot of tourists in late November. That's like shopping for watermelons in January. I hitch hiked some of the way up here; the rest I walked. I didn't run into anybody though."
"Whom do you mean by 'anybody'?" asked Professor Xavier.
"U-uh…nobody."
"Did you meet a man by the name of Magneto?"
"NO. No, I mean."
Professor Xavier nodded his head and sat back into his chair, "You can turn in now, Lance."
"Good night, Professor."
"Professor, why didn't you read his mind?" asked Storm.
"He must be able to trust us. If anyone had approached him, he would have told us."
"Are you kidding?" said Logan exasperated, "he was sweating like someone lit his ass on fire."
"Logan---,"
"He's right, Professor," said Cyclops, "we can't wait for this kid to get comfortable. He could have some important info on what Magneto is doing of he was approached. At least would have a hint at what Magneto's looking for."
Professor Xavier steepled his fingers; he looked at each of the room's occupants. "I have a feeling that Magneto isn't the one who approached Lance Dapperville."
