Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Diane Reed, whose real life story inspired me to write this. The story takes place sometime after the Onslaught incident.
(starring Storm)
Chapter 1
By Corina "Mako" Borsuk
"Ah!" Storm sighed as she walked through the open air market. This was one of her favorite places to spend her off-hours from the X-Men. Although it was a little more crowded and a little noisier than she usually preferred, the sheer variety of sights, sounds and smells were wonderfully exciting. Each time she came, she found something new and enjoyable. This time, a wonderful young woman with a mile-wide smile had shown her some intricately hand-carved statues. The woman knew the origin and history behind each piece, and Ororo had delighted in hearing each of her stories. In the end, she had chosen a replica of the Sphinx carved from limestone, which had come directly from Egypt.
Storm was admiring the detail and craftsmanship as she strolled through the crowded isles. Most of the people parted to make way for the elegant and exotic woman, but one did not. So intent was she on the statue, that Ororo never even noticed the child until she bumped into her. She looked down to see that she had accidentally knocked the child down. Placing the statue in her bag, Ororo bent down to help the girl to her feet.
The child appeared to be about six, perhaps a bit younger. Her straight black hair was cut shoulder length to frame her small face. As with many children, her eyes held a wide-eyed look of wonder, but their deep black lacked the joy and innocence of one so young. With a quick glance, Ororo determined that the child was unharmed.
"I am very sorry young one. I did not mean to knock you down. I hope you can accept my apology," Ororo said as she smiled down at the young girl.
The girl just continued to look at the regal, white-haired woman without responding. When the girl did not answer, Ororo's first thought was that the child did not speak English. She appeared Japanese and so Ororo repeated her apology in Japanese, hoping her accent was passable. Again the child did not answer. She just continued to look at Ororo.
Perhaps she is deaf, Ororo thought. Kneeling down in front of the girl, Ororo began speaking in American Sign Language. Again nothing. Well, she certainly could not spend the time to try every language she knew, and she knew quite a few thanks to her many travels and more than one telepathic crash-course. As she contemplated what to do next, Ororo began to have a more serious concern. Where are the child's parents? If they were nearby, surely by now they would have approached her. The poor girl must be lost, Ororo decided. It was no wonder she was not talking. She must be terribly frightened.
"Are you lost child?" Again no response.
"Do you know where your parents are?" Nothing.
"Well, I certainly cannot leave you here by yourself. We will simply have to find your parents." As she said this, Ororo held out her hand to the girl. The child did not move, but her eyes grew wide with fear.
Not wanting to upset the child, she tried another approach. "I understand why you are afraid. I am sure your parents have told you not to talk to strangers. That is sound advice since there are many types of people in this world. Therefore, I will simply have to stop being a stranger. My name is Ororo, Ororo Monroe. Once, when I was a little girl about your age, I also was lost and alone. My parents were gone and there was no one to care for me.
"I had no choice but to search for a place to stay. Eventually, I found such a place, somewhere I would be safe and loved. But, I only found this place by putting my trust in others. Perhaps you can do the same and allow me to help you find where you belong." Again Ororo held out her hand. This time the child tentatively reached out and grabbed her outstretched hand. Ororo smiled and stood, leading the small girl behind her.
**********
Ororo had been searching for quite some time for a police officer or security guard without success. The girl was dutifully following her without complaint, but Ororo was concerned. It was getting late and she certainly could not abandon the child here. Unfortunately, there was no lost children's center to take the child to. Finally, she decided there was nothing to do but take the girl to the nearest police station.
Leaving the open-air market behind, Ororo and her small companion ventured onto the streets. Storm recalled seeing a police station as she had flown overhead. If her memory served correctly, it had not been far from the market. Of course, that had been flying distance. Now she began to wonder just how far it would be to walk. As she contemplated calling for a cab, a small voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Or . . . Oro . . ." At the sound, Ororo stopped and looked down at the girl. She could see her face contort as she desperately attempted to say the foreign name.
"Ororo," she provided. Again the child tried, but she simply could not say it. Seeing the girl's frustrations, Ororo smiled and said, "Perhaps Ororo is a bit difficult to pronounce. Why not call me Storm. That is what my friends call me."
"Storm?" The girl thought for a moment before adding, "I like that."
"Good. I am glad that is settled. Now perhaps you can tell me your name."
"Emily," she said matter-of-factly.
"Do you have a last name Emily?"
"No, just Emily."
Storm nodded, assuming the child was perhaps too young to know her last name. With Emily's hand still tightly in her own, Ororo began walking once again towards the police station.
"Storm, can you tell me more about when you were little like me?"
"Well, I suppose so." She was not sure if she should tell such a young child about some of the things she herself had done at that age. However, there was something about Emily that made her want to open up to the young girl. So, as they walked, Ororo told Emily about how her parents died. She told the girl how she had walked to Cairo, Egypt alone through the desert. She shared her experiences as a thief and pick-pocket, her entire life in Cairo. All of it, good and bad.
Sometimes Emily would stop the story to ask questions, but mostly she just listened, enthralled. Ororo found it all amazing. She had shared this story of her childhood with very few people. The Professor, Jean, Logan, Kitty, they all knew. Still, it was difficult for her to believe she had shared such personal thoughts and experiences with this child whom she barely knew. Even more astounding was how much Emily seemed to understand. Her questions had been intelligent and her face showed immense sympathy and understanding.
Caught up in telling her story, Ororo almost missed the police station, but she did not. Together the two walked into the precinct and approached the front desk. Ororo explained to the officer how she had found the child, lost at the market. The officer walked around the desk to the girl and knelt down in front of her.
"Well little girl, it seems you've lost your parents. Why don't you tell me where you last saw them and what they look like, and we'll do our best to find them. Okay, Emily?" But Emily didn't answer. She just stood there holding Ororo's hand.
"Now child, do not be afraid. This nice officer is going to help you find your parents, but first he needs your help." Still Emily would not talk.
This is not going well at all, Ororo thought. If Emily would not speak with the officers, how would they find her parents?
Ororo joined the officer in kneeling down next to Emily. Still holding the child's hand, Ororo smiled at her lovingly. "Emily, please you must tell the officer about your parents. Otherwise, he will not be able to locate them for you." But, Emily just shook her head violently and refused to speak. Sighing, Ororo turned to the officer and said, "I do not know why she will not speak to you, but please try to locate her parents." She glanced down at her watch before speaking again. "I am afraid that I must be going. Will the child be alright in your care?"
Before the officer could answer, Emily threw her arms around Ororo's waist and began to cry. "Don't go! Please don't leave me here."
As the child sobbed, Ororo could do nothing but hold her and try to reassure her. "Do not worry. Everything will be fine. I am sure the officer can reunite you with your family." Emily seemed unconvinced, and refused to let go of Storm.
"Please Storm, don't go. Stay with me. Please!"
How can I say no, the wind-rider thought. The child seemed so frightened and alone, she could not bear to leave her, at least not until her parents have been found. Having made up her mind, Ororo announced, "All right child, I will stay with you for the time being."
"Really?" Emily asked, unable to believe her ears.
"Yes, child, really."
**********
So far, Ororo had been unable to get Emily to answer any questions about her parents. She was quite willing to talk about herself. She told Ororo her favorite color was sky blue, her favorite animal was a rabbit, and her absolutely most favorite show was Sailor Moon. She shared with Ororo her love of reading and music and her hope to someday be an astronaut, or maybe a secretary, or a doctor, or a hundred other things. Like many children, she wanted to do and see everything the world had to offer. The one thing she didn't want to see or hear or share was anything about her family.
Although she enjoyed Emily's company, Ororo was beginning to feel she was a permanent attachment. The child would not leave her, even for an instant. She even had to take Emily with her to the phone when she called the mansion. And, it was a good thing she called. When Bishop answered the phone, he said that everyone had been worried when Ororo failed to return. She insisted she was fine, but that she might be home quite late. Bishop, suspicious as always, had wanted to know why, but Ororo told him she would explain when she got home.
Finally, a little after 10 o'clock that night one of the officers informed Ororo that Emily's guardian had been located. The woman had been searching for Emily all night, and was now on her way to the station to pick the child up. Ororo was quite relieved to hear this news, but saw no need to wake up Emily. The child had fallen asleep a few hours earlier and Storm felt she could let her sleep until her guardian arrived.
The woman arrived a short time later. She had short blond hair and thick glasses. However, what Ororo noticed first was the haggard and worried look on her face, and it wasn't difficult for her to guess why. When she saw Emily, the woman rushed over to the girl and began to speak, but Ororo put her fingers to her lips. Whispering she said, "Shhh. The child is sleeping. Perhaps it would be best if we did not wake her."
"Of course," the woman whispered. "I just want to thank you so much for finding Emily. I've been worried sick. I should never have taken her to the market. She just wasn't ready. And, then there was the whole problem with identifying her. I would have been here sooner," the woman babbled on, "but the police couldn't properly identify Emily. You must be a miracle worker."
"I do not understand Miss . . ."
"Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Sarah Johnson. I run the orphanage Emily lives at. I took her to the market because I thought . . . Well, I don't know what I thought, but I didn't know what else to try. How did you get her to talk?"
"You mean her reluctance to speak to strangers? Well, I simply introduced myself so we would no longer be strangers."
"You don't know? Well, how could you. You see, the reason it took so long for them to tell me where Emily was, was that they didn't think she was the girl I was looking for. When they heard Emily talking to you, they assumed she must have been someone else, even though she fit the description."
"I am afraid I still do not understand Miss Johnson."
"You see, Emily came to the orphanage a year ago and she hasn't spoken
to a single soul since she arrived. No one. You're the first person she's
ever talked to. You must be someone very special. You've accomplished a
miracle."
to be continued in Chapter 2
