Gifted Youngster
Old Fiat
Currently Watching: 10,000 BC. This film was (unintentionally) hilarious!
Sadly, we're getting close to the end. (None of my stories seem to be able to go up to twenty chapters. My record number is fifteen.) I hope you all enjoy this while it lasts because it's going fast.
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Chapter 11: Let Me Help
"We're here," said Christi, putting her hand on Scott's as the train pulled into the station. "Come on."
She helped him off the train and onto the station. They attracted a good deal of attention—a tall, dark-skinned girl helping a skinny, awkward teenage boy in a blindfold jump from the train to the platform. An elderly woman behind them grumbled a little until Christi shot her glare.
They walked together through the station when she helped him over to the desk. At least, that what he thought she was going to do, but instead she stopped in the center of the station and grabbed him by the hand, gripping the extremity as tight as she could.
"You're on your own from here, Scott," she said with a sigh and shook his hand. "I hope we meet again someday."
"Thanks," he said, gripping her hand just as tightly. "I hope so too."
"I'll see you," she said and broke the connection, walking away into the crowds of people around him.
He wandered across the station until he reached a desk by the wall.
"Excuse me," he said, holding the edge of the desk as tightly as possible. "How can I get to California?"
The woman looked at him a few moments and wondered he was joking.
"Well, where do you want to go in California?" she asked, deciding to go along with the joke.
"I… I…" He struggled to remember his brother's address, but all he could remember was that it was in Orange County.
"Orange County," he said finally, figuring he could…. Well, he'd do something once he got there.
"Well, there isn't a train that goes there directly, but there is a direct train to Denver, Colorado."
"That'd be great," said Scott, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "How much?"
She told him the price and he fumbled through the cash pouch of his wallet. He couldn't tell which bills were which. He pulled out three crisp notes and held them up.
"Is this right, ma'am?" he asked, feeling horribly foolish.
"No, sir. If you'd like, you could give me your wallet and I could take out the correct amount."
"No!" he said, a little louder than he'd meant to. Holding up the same three bills, he asked in a softer voice, "Which ones are which?"
"This one's a twenty, that's a ten and that's a one."
"Right," he said, leaving the twenty on the counter and pulling out another couple of bills. "Is this right?"
"No, sir. If you'd let me see—"
"Please," he interrupted, stuffing the money back in his wallet. "I… I can do this, alright?"
He used to be able to do it. The woman at the desk began to grow exasperated.
"I could help if you'd like," said a different voice.
Scott spun around at the sound. It was an older voice, deeper—probably some impatient old man.
"No thank you, sir," he said, trying to compose himself. "I'm just fine." He reached back into the cash pocket.
"If you'd let me help you—"
"Sir, I don't need help!" he shouted. His voice echoed around the large train station, mixing with the sounds of others' around him. He turned back towards the counter. "How about this, ma'am?"
She didn't respond. Silence filled the cavernous room. It was somehow more deafening than the din that preceded it. It closed in around Scott as he looked around. He reached towards the woman behind the counter and touched her hand the rested on the desk. She didn't move. She didn't even appear to be breathing.
"Hello?" he called out, turning away from the counter and stepping forward.
"I'm right here, Scott."
It was that man again. Scott spun on his heel in the direction of the voice.
"How do you know my name?" he asked, his heart pounding wildly against his rib cage. "What happened to her?"
"She'll be fine," said the man, brushing off the accusing tone in Scott's voice. "My name is Professor Charles Xavier."
"Good for you—why do you know my name?"
The man spoke again, but it didn't echo around the train station. His voice entered his mind, speaking softly and clearly.
The same way I can do this.
Scott spun around, trying to find the source of the sound. How had the man gotten into his head? It wasn't possible. It didn't make sense. It couldn't have happened—but it had.
"How did you do that?" he demanded, shaking.
"I'm a mutant, same as you."
"A what?"
"A mutant," said Professor Xavier. "We are the next step in evolution—still humans but with powers, special abilities."
"Special abilities?"
"Like your ability to shot blots of pure energy out of your eyes," said the professor, a smile in his voice. "Or my ability to read minds and telepath to people. In fact, I know a girl who can control the weather."
Scott bit his lip and fiddled with the bills in his hand. So he was a mutant. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
"So what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"I'm here to help you, Scott," said the professor, taking one of his hands and making Scott jump. "I'm starting an institute for mutants, to give them a safe place to learn and practice their abilities. Your potential is incredible."
"I'm not interested in your institute," said Scott, turning back towards the counter. "Now if you'll please wake her up or whatever—"
"Where are you going to go, Scott? California?"
Scott set his jaw and turned back towards the professor.
"Don't read my mind. I need to go to California, alright? Just wake her up—"
"What if I told you I could help you see again?"
Scott froze, halfway in the motion of turning again towards the counter. He spun slowly on his heel. His heart beat hard, his hands shaking.
"Why?"
"I think I know how I can make you see again. It might take a bit, but I'm sure I could work it out." The professor paused, taking a deep breath. "Just let me try to help you, Scott, please."
His heart beat heavily in his chest. Picking up the twenty dollars from the desk behind him grabbed the professor's hand.
"Take me with you."
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Hooray! The professor arrived! I think I wrote him pretty well, though at the beginning he sounds kind of creepy. Oh well, I guess that's sort of the point.
Please review! Tell me what you think will happen next!
-OFsI