July 27, 1968

Anything that didn't really belong somewhere got boxed up. That was a tradition in his family, if you can't find a place for it, put it in a box. Nothing was spared. This included furniture, books, clothes, and just about anything that they couldn't sell or get rid of. It all went into the attic. Boxes had been piled up there haphazardly for years, perhaps before Klaus had even been born. It served as the ultimate storage facility for the Mai-Hargreeves.

More recently it had been serving as his room. Very recently actually. He'd only had it for about twenty three days, as getting his own room had been a seventh birthday present. It had also been a reward for getting good grades. Before then he'd been living in the living room. Living in the living room. Puns were wonderful.

Klaus knew that deep down he didn't deserve the room. His great-grandmother had said that it was a reward for hard work and he had earned the privilege. She'd also said something about how he'd proved that he was responsible enough for a room. She'd cited his age, as had his mother.

So he really didn't deserve the room. Well, maybe he did for his birthday, but not for his grades. The only reason why he'd gotten an A in reading was because he'd cheated on the tests…and the worksheets…and the assignments. Just for reading though…and writing…and science…and history…and playground safety.

So maybe he'd cheated quite a bit. He couldn't help it really. Klaus could see the future to some extent and he'd started focusing it lately to get him the answers on tests. It was quite a useful power if he did say so. It would probably be wrong if he just went and ignored it. Sometimes though, it did give him the creeps.

He sat under his covers with a flashlight. It was coming up on Midnight, and for some reason he doubted that his mother and great-grandmother would like him staying up that late. Summer vacation didn't really count for anything in this house. Yet, what he was doing was important, even if they didn't like it. However, doing it and facing the consequences seemed better then asking and getting told no to him.

Very carefully Klaus laid one tarot card down on his bed sheet after another. Getting answers on tests was all good and fine, but he was sort of curious if he could push it a bit more. Accurately correct the weather and stuff. Klaus was basically just trying to basically push his boundaries. Testing this power was difficult and he was trying to see if the traditional methods helped.

So, here he was, playing with fire. When he'd laid all the cards down he got that it was going to rain the next day. Not just rain, but monsoon-esque rain, Noah's Ark-esque rain. The weatherman had predicted clear skies. It looked like he'd need some more practice with the cards. Sighing he scooped them up and put them back into a neat little deck.

Then he pulled out two books from under his pillow. One was Dr. Marland's Book of Child Psychology. He didn't understand most of the words in it, but it was interesting. Klaus was trying to understand exactly why Binh had been, and was still being, such a jerk to him over the past few years. Perhaps this would give him some ideas so he wouldn't have to levitate anything.

The next book was The Art of Defense. Once more he couldn't understand all of the words, but the pictures and diagrams were pretty interesting. Klaus was sort of tempted to return it and just stick to levitating things, because it looked complicated. He wasn't very physically fit. He ran a lot, and he was fairly decent at sports. So he wondered why he was so scrawny. Hoa would say something about him being a little too much like his father. Then Xuan and she would stifle laughter.

Although Dr. Marland's Book of Child Psychology and The Art of Defense were both library books, Klaus had torn out a few interesting pages that he wanted to keep. Currently he was stashing them under his mattress so his no one would ask. Don't ask, don't tell. Books were for the education of the public though, so he doubted if anyone would mind. Not if they didn't find out anyway.

Why did he bother with them? Sometimes, on nights like these, he would start to wonder just that. Why didn't he stick to the things that he could do and no one else could? The answer was a little weird really. It wasn't truly something that he could explain. He was only seven after all.

However, he knew one thing, as young as he was. He didn't really like being so different. Sure, it was fun to see the people run from what he could do. It was fun to get good grades and not have to work for them. Yet, he had the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that that wasn't normal. Klaus had the feeling that his mother and great-grandmother had probably raised him a bit better then that.

Klaus was also well-aware that he was too well-aware for a seven year old. That thought, coupled with his powers, scared him. It scared him to the point that he didn't want to talk about it. For him it wasn't the Boogey monster that scared him in dark nights. It was the fact that he wasn't normal. His powers were scaring him.

For example, seeing into the future. He didn't like seeing into his own personal future or that of others. He'd tried that once as an experiment. As a result he had had nightmares for weeks. Klaus had vowed not to do that again. That was why he was looking at the weather now.

As for levitating things, there weren't many downsides to that. Not that he could see. From what Xuan had said though, levitating things at people wouldn't work all his life. He felt like asking her to prove it, but figured that his mom probably had her reasons for saying that. Not to mention that it was just plain out weird as well.

Then there was his favorite, the ghosts. Klaus loved the fact that he could see his mother. He loved that she could talk to him, walk him to school, and basically be his mother. His great-grandmother was glad too. She seemed to love the fact that her beloved granddaughter could be with them. It was the thing that he loved most about any of his powers, having her there.

However, there was a downside. Some ghosts were angry. Some liked the idea of picking on a seven year old child who could hear them. They followed him around. His mother shooed most of them away. Yet, she couldn't always be there to get them away. He'd have to learn to deal with that by himself.

With those thoughts in his mind, he couldn't bring himself to look at the books anymore. All he wanted to do now was curl up and go to sleep. He shoved the books and card underneath his pillow and slid up from under his blankets. Just as he was about to turn off the light and lay down, something caught his eye.

One of the boxes near his bed had the words written;

"Fragile discombobulators."

It was in English. Klaus had been taught to read and write the language by his mother. Yet, she hadn't written this. Her handwriting was a good deal neater. So was his great-grandmother's. He'd seen a chimp that had been some sort of guardian to his father for awhile's handwriting too, and this wasn't his. So that left only one possible suspect.

He was looking at his father's handwriting. In the past Klaus had seen only a handful of things of his father's. There were a few pictures that he'd seen in the past, as well as some small personal items. Other then that, nothing. His father's handwriting was strange and alien to him.

Yet, his father had probably gone through the same problems too, right? That was where his mother said that he got them from. He'd heard that his grandfather on his father's side was a jerk. So, he probably hadn't been able to get any help from him. There wasn't any real grandmother on that side of his family either, from what he'd heard. So how had his namesake gotten through it all?

The thought plagued him as he laid down. Klaus didn't turn off the flashlight. This way he could see the handwriting until he felt asleep. It was sort of comforting to know that someone else had survived it all. He'd ask him about it one day. He didn't even bother to turn off the flashlight when he drifted off. That way it was still on when he woke up in the morning to the heavy pelting of rain.