Chapter 2
'A' for Effort
I waited patiently outside the University Center while the cold wind howled around me. I didn't really know what to expect. I didn't even know what type of car they'd be arriving in. I just assumed they'd know me.How? Who knew? I'd gotten the distinct impression from Professor Xavier that he left very little to chance. Today, though, I'd made sure I was prepared for what I assumed would be an interrogation - as opposed to the "interview", as he'd described it.
Every time a car pulled into the turn-around, I jumped. I was a little excited. I'd told my parents about the interview and my mom seemed dubious, but she knew better than to try and stop me from doing something I wanted to do. She only asked that I investigate it properly and get lots of information. As I always did.
While I waited, I began to wonder about the true nature of the meeting. Was it possible that someone had tracked me down because I was a mutant? Again? It seemed unlikely - I mean, I'd had my powers for over four years. I just hadn't used them in a long time. You're just being paranoid, I told myself. I was a good student. Xavier's was probably just like any other prestigious school interested in a qualified candidate to pursue higher learning. That sounded plausible. But it didn't quite silence that little, nagging, voice inside me.
I looked down at myself one more time, just to be sure I looked all right. Tie was still straight, shirt un-wrinkled, pants still clean, I ran down my mental check list. Everything was good. I tucked my jacket around me tighter, trying to keep hypothermia from setting in. Although I was really too nervous to notice the cold that much. I felt like I had butterflies as big as ducks in my stomach.
What was there to be anxious about really, I wondered. I tried to suppress the doubts. I'm going to go out, have a nice dinner with these people, learn as much as I can about this school and then come home and go right back to studying and fraternizing - basically being a regular college student.
At 5:02 pm exactly, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb. The driver side door opened up and out stepped a tall, lean black woman. She was probably 21 or 22, and held her self with a regal grace that belied her age. Her hair was wrapped up in some type of intricate head-kerchief that looked both exotic and practical. She shut the door behind her and turned to look over the car. Her eyes came to rest upon me, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a glowing white smile. She began to walk unerringly towards me. *Gulp*
"You are Clayton?" she stated. She was just a little taller than me, with blue eyes.and apparently white hair. I spied a few tresses escaping the confinement of her tight headdress.
I hardly expected . . . I mean I knew from the accent . . . I somehow managed to keep from saying "Wow" as I greeted her. "Yes.You're Ororo?" I asked, unsure of myself.
Her smile brightened. "Yes." We shook hands - her grip was firm. "A pleasure to meet you," she said.
I relaxed a little. "Likewise, I'm sure," I replied.
"Are you ready to leave?" she asked.
"Uh - yes." I was once again off-balance. She nodded and lead me around to the driver's side of the car. I made an attempt at gallantry by opening her door for her, before climbing into the back seat. I got my first real look at the other two passengers in the car, whom I'd ignored upon Ororo's arrival. That wasn't the case once I sat down in the back seat.
The front seat passenger just exuded this presence. While he didn't directly look at me, I had the distinct impression that he was studying me very hard.
"Greetings Mr. Darkmoon. I am Charles Xavier. I'm quite pleased to have you with us today," he said, turning his head only slightly to acknowledge me.
"Yes, Sir. It's good to meet you too." The Professor was the very model of his title. Strong, imposing, bald.with very penetrating blue eyes, not like Ororo's cat-like gaze. I felt like he could stare right through me. And probably had.
"You've already had a chance to speak with Ororo Munroe," he continued. "This is one of my other students, Peter Rasputin," he said. I turned to Peter - whom I had only vaguely noticed when I got in the door.
"Hello," I said, extending a hand. "I'm Clayton," I said, using my formal name.
"Greetings, Comrade. A pleasure," he said, shaking my hand. His grip was preternaturally strong. Luckily - I don't think anything was broken. Peter looked like the bully type - big, strong, square jaw, kind of hulking. But his demeanor was just the opposite. I returned his pleasant, gentle smile with one of my own, before sitting back against the seat. I could see dinner was going to be quite a time.
* * * * *
We made it to the restaurant without incident. Poli's - in Pittsburgh. If you're ever in Pittsburgh, I'd recommend it. The service is good, the food is above average. The desserts are excellent. I'd made reservations to have a secluded booth for the four of us, per request of Professor Xavier. We had sat down at the table and it'd been quiet for a few moments. I was waiting for Xavier to take the lead in this little foray and used the time to study the menu.
The waiter came and left with our food orders, removing my temporary defense by taking the menus with him. I took a drink of water and waited expectantly.
"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," Professor Xavier said.
I smiled. "It isn't every day recruiters from centers of higher learning set-up interviews like you did," I replied. In fact, I'd never heard of such a thing. I quickly dismissed that thought and focused back on the conversation.
"And it's not every day that we encounter students with your academic prowess," he complimented me.
"Thank you," I said graciously.
"As I recall, you're a junior in Chemical Engineering," he said.
"That's correct."
"And you enjoy your studies?"
"Well enough to consider going on to get my Ph D," I said. It was kind of boasting, but it usually drew a response from people.
"That would be quite an accomplishment," Ororo said with no small amount of admiration. Professor Xavier nodded in agreement.
"Ororo informs you've already selected several schools to which you're interested in applying to," he said.
"Yes - we discussed it yesterday." My eyes flicked briefly to her then back at Xavier.
"Attending the School for Gifted Youngsters could afford you an excellent addition to your applications," Professor Xavier said.
I paused considering. "That would be something I would definitely take into consideration," I replied. I was going to say something else but the waiter arrived right then with the first course. The next few minutes our polite conversation was tabled in lieu of eating; we were all apparently quite hungry.
Eating gave me an opportunity, however brief, to review.Professor Xavier was definitely taking the lead in all this. Ororo had ventured a few comments but Peter.he seemed a little reserved, almost shy. I sensed that he wanted to get into the conversation - and I certainly wanted him to join. He looked younger than me - probably 17 or 18. Regardless of what the Professor said, he and Ororo were the ones that I would rely upon the most to get the inside track on what the school was really like.
* * * * *
Throughout the rest of dinner, Professor Xavier questioned me at length about my scholastic records and what I wanted to do after school. He detailed the types of programs that I could participate in, the facilities that would be at my disposal and the connections I could make. Like it or not, Xavier knew how to play hardball and he used whatever abilities he had to subtly prove that my place was at his school.
I had tried to draw Peter into the conversation, attempting to get he and Ororo to give me their opinions about the school. It was a direct and indirect tactic. My mother had taught me that how people said things was just as important as what they said. Ororo's answers had the ring of sincerity as did Peter's. I couldn't find fault in any of the information that they gave me.All in all, quite an impressive school. It sounded like it had been tailored to fit my every need.
"You're quite a remarkable individual," Professor Xavier said. We were enjoying dessert now, and I sipped a cappucino and savored a rich piece of chocolate cake. "Exactly the type of student that we can appreciate at the School."
"Thank you, Professor," I said. "You've got a lot to offer." Now here comes the first stage of rejection, I thought to myself. "However.I'm not quite clear on what it is about your school that really distinguishes it from say Stanford or M.I.T. or Cornell," I said. I was posturing really. Full scholarship to an accredited program was exactly what I wanted.I just got the impression that this wasn't exactly the school I really needed to attend. I don't know. It was more of a hunch. I hated to be negative when they'd gone to great lengths to research my background and come to Pittsburgh to meet with me.
The Professor favored me with a small knowing smile. "You're an intelligent young man, Mr. Darkmoon. Surely you understand that you are quite unique when compared to the average college student," he said. It was more of a challenge than flattery.
I frowned. "You mean because of my age," I bluffed. My heart started to pound a little faster.
He merely shook his head. "No, young man. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters focuses on providing an environment for youths such as yourself to develop and hone their special abilities," he said. My frown only deepened when he said that. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. He's on to me, I thought.
"I am sure I don't know what you're referring to. I'm no more intelligent or different than the average college kid," I pretended. "And I certainly don't have any special abilities." I tried to lie. It bothered me that I had to do it, especially since I'd only recently vowed not to be ashamed of my mutancy.
But then, is it really a lie.if I have to do it? If the people hearing it don't want to hear the truth? And the only thing that would appease them was 'the lie'? I shook my head - a debate for another time. I folded my hands in my lap and waited for them to make the next move. I tried to plaster on a face of bored disinterest, maintaining a calm exterior. But I couldn't quite stop tapping my left foot in anticipation.
Xavier and Ororo exchanged a glance. "You have heard of the X-Men, have you not?" she asked, taking over the conversation.
"Yes," I said, feeling my pulse quicken even more. Everyone had heard of the X-Men by now. Most people feared them. They didn't have the best reputation; destruction seemed to follow in their wake.
"The X-Men are mutants gifted with powers that set them apart from the rest of society," she said. "Mutants like yourself," she continued, giving me a knowing look. Our table was set off from the majority of the patrons, giving us relative privacy. That was for the best, considering what they'd do if they knew what was transpiring only a few feet away.
"I see," I said. So they knew. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. I wanted to jump up and down in frustration. I wanted to *zap* everyone in the restaurant. I wanted to leave. I certainly did not want to be caught. I exhaled slowly and banished all those crazy scenarios that sprang to mind.
"You're the X-Men," I accused them, making the quantum leap. Ororo nodded once and I observed Peter studying me speculatively. "I see," I said again. I really wanted 'to see' later on.by myself. Instead of here, eating dinner and discussing superheroing as casually as one would discuss the politics. This was a trap, I thought to myself. One big elaborate trap. And I fell right into it. Sheesh! I should have listened to my mother and stayed in my dorm room and studied.
"We did not come here to trap you, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said. I turned my scrutiny upon him. "We come only to offer you a place where you can explore the limits of your mutant nature with individuals like yourself. To protect you."
"Protection from what?" I asked sharply. I began to develop a vague suspicion about Professor Xavier's 'mutant nature'.
He leaned forward only slightly on the table. The gesture was not lost upon me - he had something of extreme importance to tell me. "There are people in the world motivated by fear. Fear of what they do not and can not understand. In their ignorance they will attempt to destroy what is beyond their comprehension. This is one reason I have gathered together the X-Men. To help train them in the use of their powers, so that they can defend themselves against a society that hates and despises them for simply being born."
"And another reason?" I asked.
"To foster and promote mutant and non-mutant relations, so that one day humanity may be healed of its bigotry," he said simply.
I arched one blond eyebrow at him. "You want to reshape the world, then?" I queried.
"To make it better," he said. "To make it safe for mutants and non- mutants. You of all people should recognize the importance of such an action. Was not a student recently beaten to death at the University of Pittsburgh? For being a mutant?"
"Suspected mutant," I replied, harsher than I intended. I was thrilled and dismayed at the same time. I'd only had contact with a handful of other mutants in my life and it hadn't been ideal. Part of me wanted to relax and trust these three strangers, revel in the fact that I was no longer alone in the world. There were others like me! But I didn't dare let my guard down. Not yet. I tried to keep all these thoughts inside - maintain a cool outlook. I would have had better luck trying to hold back the tide.
"You're agitated," Xavier stated evenly. The way he said it made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He spoke with such assurance, it bordered on arrogance.
"You're a telepath," I guessed, confident in my assessment of his abilities. His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. I'd been around another empath before and she'd always evoked the same 'hair-raising' reaction from me.
"Very astute of you, Mr. Darkmoon." Even under the circumstances, I glowed under the praise. I turned from him to the young African woman sitting to his left.
"What can you do?" I asked with no subtlety.
Ororo opened her mouth to reply. In fact I am sure she did say something. However, her voice was drowned out by several pairs of sonic booms. This was followed by several small "earthquakes" that rocked the restaurant, causing the diners to look up in alarm.
I looked up at the ceiling in puzzlement already reaching out with my scanning power. What kind of plane would be coming in that close? And an earthquake? In Pittsburgh . . . ? "By the Bright Lady," I swore softly as my powers locked in on something.
-End Part 1-
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.
'A' for Effort
I waited patiently outside the University Center while the cold wind howled around me. I didn't really know what to expect. I didn't even know what type of car they'd be arriving in. I just assumed they'd know me.How? Who knew? I'd gotten the distinct impression from Professor Xavier that he left very little to chance. Today, though, I'd made sure I was prepared for what I assumed would be an interrogation - as opposed to the "interview", as he'd described it.
Every time a car pulled into the turn-around, I jumped. I was a little excited. I'd told my parents about the interview and my mom seemed dubious, but she knew better than to try and stop me from doing something I wanted to do. She only asked that I investigate it properly and get lots of information. As I always did.
While I waited, I began to wonder about the true nature of the meeting. Was it possible that someone had tracked me down because I was a mutant? Again? It seemed unlikely - I mean, I'd had my powers for over four years. I just hadn't used them in a long time. You're just being paranoid, I told myself. I was a good student. Xavier's was probably just like any other prestigious school interested in a qualified candidate to pursue higher learning. That sounded plausible. But it didn't quite silence that little, nagging, voice inside me.
I looked down at myself one more time, just to be sure I looked all right. Tie was still straight, shirt un-wrinkled, pants still clean, I ran down my mental check list. Everything was good. I tucked my jacket around me tighter, trying to keep hypothermia from setting in. Although I was really too nervous to notice the cold that much. I felt like I had butterflies as big as ducks in my stomach.
What was there to be anxious about really, I wondered. I tried to suppress the doubts. I'm going to go out, have a nice dinner with these people, learn as much as I can about this school and then come home and go right back to studying and fraternizing - basically being a regular college student.
At 5:02 pm exactly, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb. The driver side door opened up and out stepped a tall, lean black woman. She was probably 21 or 22, and held her self with a regal grace that belied her age. Her hair was wrapped up in some type of intricate head-kerchief that looked both exotic and practical. She shut the door behind her and turned to look over the car. Her eyes came to rest upon me, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a glowing white smile. She began to walk unerringly towards me. *Gulp*
"You are Clayton?" she stated. She was just a little taller than me, with blue eyes.and apparently white hair. I spied a few tresses escaping the confinement of her tight headdress.
I hardly expected . . . I mean I knew from the accent . . . I somehow managed to keep from saying "Wow" as I greeted her. "Yes.You're Ororo?" I asked, unsure of myself.
Her smile brightened. "Yes." We shook hands - her grip was firm. "A pleasure to meet you," she said.
I relaxed a little. "Likewise, I'm sure," I replied.
"Are you ready to leave?" she asked.
"Uh - yes." I was once again off-balance. She nodded and lead me around to the driver's side of the car. I made an attempt at gallantry by opening her door for her, before climbing into the back seat. I got my first real look at the other two passengers in the car, whom I'd ignored upon Ororo's arrival. That wasn't the case once I sat down in the back seat.
The front seat passenger just exuded this presence. While he didn't directly look at me, I had the distinct impression that he was studying me very hard.
"Greetings Mr. Darkmoon. I am Charles Xavier. I'm quite pleased to have you with us today," he said, turning his head only slightly to acknowledge me.
"Yes, Sir. It's good to meet you too." The Professor was the very model of his title. Strong, imposing, bald.with very penetrating blue eyes, not like Ororo's cat-like gaze. I felt like he could stare right through me. And probably had.
"You've already had a chance to speak with Ororo Munroe," he continued. "This is one of my other students, Peter Rasputin," he said. I turned to Peter - whom I had only vaguely noticed when I got in the door.
"Hello," I said, extending a hand. "I'm Clayton," I said, using my formal name.
"Greetings, Comrade. A pleasure," he said, shaking my hand. His grip was preternaturally strong. Luckily - I don't think anything was broken. Peter looked like the bully type - big, strong, square jaw, kind of hulking. But his demeanor was just the opposite. I returned his pleasant, gentle smile with one of my own, before sitting back against the seat. I could see dinner was going to be quite a time.
* * * * *
We made it to the restaurant without incident. Poli's - in Pittsburgh. If you're ever in Pittsburgh, I'd recommend it. The service is good, the food is above average. The desserts are excellent. I'd made reservations to have a secluded booth for the four of us, per request of Professor Xavier. We had sat down at the table and it'd been quiet for a few moments. I was waiting for Xavier to take the lead in this little foray and used the time to study the menu.
The waiter came and left with our food orders, removing my temporary defense by taking the menus with him. I took a drink of water and waited expectantly.
"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us," Professor Xavier said.
I smiled. "It isn't every day recruiters from centers of higher learning set-up interviews like you did," I replied. In fact, I'd never heard of such a thing. I quickly dismissed that thought and focused back on the conversation.
"And it's not every day that we encounter students with your academic prowess," he complimented me.
"Thank you," I said graciously.
"As I recall, you're a junior in Chemical Engineering," he said.
"That's correct."
"And you enjoy your studies?"
"Well enough to consider going on to get my Ph D," I said. It was kind of boasting, but it usually drew a response from people.
"That would be quite an accomplishment," Ororo said with no small amount of admiration. Professor Xavier nodded in agreement.
"Ororo informs you've already selected several schools to which you're interested in applying to," he said.
"Yes - we discussed it yesterday." My eyes flicked briefly to her then back at Xavier.
"Attending the School for Gifted Youngsters could afford you an excellent addition to your applications," Professor Xavier said.
I paused considering. "That would be something I would definitely take into consideration," I replied. I was going to say something else but the waiter arrived right then with the first course. The next few minutes our polite conversation was tabled in lieu of eating; we were all apparently quite hungry.
Eating gave me an opportunity, however brief, to review.Professor Xavier was definitely taking the lead in all this. Ororo had ventured a few comments but Peter.he seemed a little reserved, almost shy. I sensed that he wanted to get into the conversation - and I certainly wanted him to join. He looked younger than me - probably 17 or 18. Regardless of what the Professor said, he and Ororo were the ones that I would rely upon the most to get the inside track on what the school was really like.
* * * * *
Throughout the rest of dinner, Professor Xavier questioned me at length about my scholastic records and what I wanted to do after school. He detailed the types of programs that I could participate in, the facilities that would be at my disposal and the connections I could make. Like it or not, Xavier knew how to play hardball and he used whatever abilities he had to subtly prove that my place was at his school.
I had tried to draw Peter into the conversation, attempting to get he and Ororo to give me their opinions about the school. It was a direct and indirect tactic. My mother had taught me that how people said things was just as important as what they said. Ororo's answers had the ring of sincerity as did Peter's. I couldn't find fault in any of the information that they gave me.All in all, quite an impressive school. It sounded like it had been tailored to fit my every need.
"You're quite a remarkable individual," Professor Xavier said. We were enjoying dessert now, and I sipped a cappucino and savored a rich piece of chocolate cake. "Exactly the type of student that we can appreciate at the School."
"Thank you, Professor," I said. "You've got a lot to offer." Now here comes the first stage of rejection, I thought to myself. "However.I'm not quite clear on what it is about your school that really distinguishes it from say Stanford or M.I.T. or Cornell," I said. I was posturing really. Full scholarship to an accredited program was exactly what I wanted.I just got the impression that this wasn't exactly the school I really needed to attend. I don't know. It was more of a hunch. I hated to be negative when they'd gone to great lengths to research my background and come to Pittsburgh to meet with me.
The Professor favored me with a small knowing smile. "You're an intelligent young man, Mr. Darkmoon. Surely you understand that you are quite unique when compared to the average college student," he said. It was more of a challenge than flattery.
I frowned. "You mean because of my age," I bluffed. My heart started to pound a little faster.
He merely shook his head. "No, young man. Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters focuses on providing an environment for youths such as yourself to develop and hone their special abilities," he said. My frown only deepened when he said that. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. He's on to me, I thought.
"I am sure I don't know what you're referring to. I'm no more intelligent or different than the average college kid," I pretended. "And I certainly don't have any special abilities." I tried to lie. It bothered me that I had to do it, especially since I'd only recently vowed not to be ashamed of my mutancy.
But then, is it really a lie.if I have to do it? If the people hearing it don't want to hear the truth? And the only thing that would appease them was 'the lie'? I shook my head - a debate for another time. I folded my hands in my lap and waited for them to make the next move. I tried to plaster on a face of bored disinterest, maintaining a calm exterior. But I couldn't quite stop tapping my left foot in anticipation.
Xavier and Ororo exchanged a glance. "You have heard of the X-Men, have you not?" she asked, taking over the conversation.
"Yes," I said, feeling my pulse quicken even more. Everyone had heard of the X-Men by now. Most people feared them. They didn't have the best reputation; destruction seemed to follow in their wake.
"The X-Men are mutants gifted with powers that set them apart from the rest of society," she said. "Mutants like yourself," she continued, giving me a knowing look. Our table was set off from the majority of the patrons, giving us relative privacy. That was for the best, considering what they'd do if they knew what was transpiring only a few feet away.
"I see," I said. So they knew. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. I wanted to jump up and down in frustration. I wanted to *zap* everyone in the restaurant. I wanted to leave. I certainly did not want to be caught. I exhaled slowly and banished all those crazy scenarios that sprang to mind.
"You're the X-Men," I accused them, making the quantum leap. Ororo nodded once and I observed Peter studying me speculatively. "I see," I said again. I really wanted 'to see' later on.by myself. Instead of here, eating dinner and discussing superheroing as casually as one would discuss the politics. This was a trap, I thought to myself. One big elaborate trap. And I fell right into it. Sheesh! I should have listened to my mother and stayed in my dorm room and studied.
"We did not come here to trap you, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said. I turned my scrutiny upon him. "We come only to offer you a place where you can explore the limits of your mutant nature with individuals like yourself. To protect you."
"Protection from what?" I asked sharply. I began to develop a vague suspicion about Professor Xavier's 'mutant nature'.
He leaned forward only slightly on the table. The gesture was not lost upon me - he had something of extreme importance to tell me. "There are people in the world motivated by fear. Fear of what they do not and can not understand. In their ignorance they will attempt to destroy what is beyond their comprehension. This is one reason I have gathered together the X-Men. To help train them in the use of their powers, so that they can defend themselves against a society that hates and despises them for simply being born."
"And another reason?" I asked.
"To foster and promote mutant and non-mutant relations, so that one day humanity may be healed of its bigotry," he said simply.
I arched one blond eyebrow at him. "You want to reshape the world, then?" I queried.
"To make it better," he said. "To make it safe for mutants and non- mutants. You of all people should recognize the importance of such an action. Was not a student recently beaten to death at the University of Pittsburgh? For being a mutant?"
"Suspected mutant," I replied, harsher than I intended. I was thrilled and dismayed at the same time. I'd only had contact with a handful of other mutants in my life and it hadn't been ideal. Part of me wanted to relax and trust these three strangers, revel in the fact that I was no longer alone in the world. There were others like me! But I didn't dare let my guard down. Not yet. I tried to keep all these thoughts inside - maintain a cool outlook. I would have had better luck trying to hold back the tide.
"You're agitated," Xavier stated evenly. The way he said it made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He spoke with such assurance, it bordered on arrogance.
"You're a telepath," I guessed, confident in my assessment of his abilities. His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. I'd been around another empath before and she'd always evoked the same 'hair-raising' reaction from me.
"Very astute of you, Mr. Darkmoon." Even under the circumstances, I glowed under the praise. I turned from him to the young African woman sitting to his left.
"What can you do?" I asked with no subtlety.
Ororo opened her mouth to reply. In fact I am sure she did say something. However, her voice was drowned out by several pairs of sonic booms. This was followed by several small "earthquakes" that rocked the restaurant, causing the diners to look up in alarm.
I looked up at the ceiling in puzzlement already reaching out with my scanning power. What kind of plane would be coming in that close? And an earthquake? In Pittsburgh . . . ? "By the Bright Lady," I swore softly as my powers locked in on something.
-End Part 1-
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.