During the course of the next few hours, Scott gleaned many valuable
insights about the young boy Anthony.
The boy liked peanut butter. He liked to play basketball although he was impossibly short for the game. And he could make a stone skip four or five times across the top of a gentle lake.
He also learned about Anthony's morning. He learned that Anthony's power was something akin to temporal displacement and that he didn't so much break the window as he made it really, really old.
"Everything just kind of.brakes up. And the pieces kind-a turn different colors. And sometimes as I walk though the colors, it gets real late. And sometimes it gets earlier." He looked uncomfortable "But I know it's bad. The colors aren't even REAL unless I walk in to them. They're just THERE."
And Scott told him how amazing that power was and that it was not bad. Not at all. And he lifted him high in to the air so he could put the ball through the basket, again and again.
But things were not this quiet in town. In town people talked. People whispered. And people made plans based on fear.
Xavier on the other hand was making phone calls. When he finally finished he was disturbed.
"I think the boy was abandoned." The Professor told Jean. "No one knows anything. I've made anonymous restitution for the window. I'm hoping his will all blow over." But something inside gnawed at him. Had this sort of thing ever really blown over? Since the discovery of mutant-kind? Had it ever?
"I think." Jean was looking absently out the window. "If Scott wanted." She stopped again, watching Cyclops heft Anthony up to the hoop. She held her breath as the ball teetered and threatened to fall out rather than go in. Gently she nudged it in and watched the surprise register on Anthony's young face. It made her smile.
"I would like to keep him here at the mansion too." The professor was smiling with a majestic understanding. "Of course I'm more of the Uncle type."
And Jean had to smile as she waved a dismissive hand. She and Scott would have to talk later. She glanced again out the window and was sure of it.
"Wolvie?" Jubilee approached slowly.
"What is it Darlin'?" He was hunkered over his bike with a ratchet set, apparently unable to find the proper size.
"The boy. The one from down at the gate." She was worried.
"Yeah?" He had a feeling that this might be important.
"Did you save him?"
"Save him?" He looked at her sideways. "No, he was quick. Made it in to the gate all on his own."
"So no one had to say, stop the crowd from beating him to death?" She ventured a 'guess' and looked back just as sideways.
"No. Not that it wasn't a concern. That crowd was pretty scared. People do a lot of things when they're scared. Stupid things mostly." His eyes narrowed "Why?"
She hardened her face and visibly stiffened. "No reason." She obviously lied, and she spun on her heel and walked off.
"When the times right, you know where to find me." He almost growled it he said it so low.
Jubilee stopped in her tracks and cast one tear-filled eye back in his direction. He stood there looking dead at her, absently wiping the engine grease from his hands.
"Thanks." She whispered in a broken voice.
"And be careful if you go skating in to town." He added as she disappeared around the corner.
"That kid's gonna be the end of me. Or get me talking to myself." Wolverine said out loud to no one in particular as he went back to looking for a three-sixteenths.
Jubilee slipped in to the security room. She found the correct moment on the tape and began to watch. Sure enough, Wolverine was right. Anthony made it through the gate a good six or eight feet in front of the mob.
"Then.How?" Jubilee asked herself.
But it was too late. The sun was setting, and the word had been given. The violence was about to begin.
The boy liked peanut butter. He liked to play basketball although he was impossibly short for the game. And he could make a stone skip four or five times across the top of a gentle lake.
He also learned about Anthony's morning. He learned that Anthony's power was something akin to temporal displacement and that he didn't so much break the window as he made it really, really old.
"Everything just kind of.brakes up. And the pieces kind-a turn different colors. And sometimes as I walk though the colors, it gets real late. And sometimes it gets earlier." He looked uncomfortable "But I know it's bad. The colors aren't even REAL unless I walk in to them. They're just THERE."
And Scott told him how amazing that power was and that it was not bad. Not at all. And he lifted him high in to the air so he could put the ball through the basket, again and again.
But things were not this quiet in town. In town people talked. People whispered. And people made plans based on fear.
Xavier on the other hand was making phone calls. When he finally finished he was disturbed.
"I think the boy was abandoned." The Professor told Jean. "No one knows anything. I've made anonymous restitution for the window. I'm hoping his will all blow over." But something inside gnawed at him. Had this sort of thing ever really blown over? Since the discovery of mutant-kind? Had it ever?
"I think." Jean was looking absently out the window. "If Scott wanted." She stopped again, watching Cyclops heft Anthony up to the hoop. She held her breath as the ball teetered and threatened to fall out rather than go in. Gently she nudged it in and watched the surprise register on Anthony's young face. It made her smile.
"I would like to keep him here at the mansion too." The professor was smiling with a majestic understanding. "Of course I'm more of the Uncle type."
And Jean had to smile as she waved a dismissive hand. She and Scott would have to talk later. She glanced again out the window and was sure of it.
"Wolvie?" Jubilee approached slowly.
"What is it Darlin'?" He was hunkered over his bike with a ratchet set, apparently unable to find the proper size.
"The boy. The one from down at the gate." She was worried.
"Yeah?" He had a feeling that this might be important.
"Did you save him?"
"Save him?" He looked at her sideways. "No, he was quick. Made it in to the gate all on his own."
"So no one had to say, stop the crowd from beating him to death?" She ventured a 'guess' and looked back just as sideways.
"No. Not that it wasn't a concern. That crowd was pretty scared. People do a lot of things when they're scared. Stupid things mostly." His eyes narrowed "Why?"
She hardened her face and visibly stiffened. "No reason." She obviously lied, and she spun on her heel and walked off.
"When the times right, you know where to find me." He almost growled it he said it so low.
Jubilee stopped in her tracks and cast one tear-filled eye back in his direction. He stood there looking dead at her, absently wiping the engine grease from his hands.
"Thanks." She whispered in a broken voice.
"And be careful if you go skating in to town." He added as she disappeared around the corner.
"That kid's gonna be the end of me. Or get me talking to myself." Wolverine said out loud to no one in particular as he went back to looking for a three-sixteenths.
Jubilee slipped in to the security room. She found the correct moment on the tape and began to watch. Sure enough, Wolverine was right. Anthony made it through the gate a good six or eight feet in front of the mob.
"Then.How?" Jubilee asked herself.
But it was too late. The sun was setting, and the word had been given. The violence was about to begin.