Rebirth and Awakenings
Chapter 6
Scott soon discovered the Christmas season was taken seriously at the mansion. Mrs. Hanscomb began baking and decorating the first week of December. She enlisted the aid of Scott and Ororo whenever possible. Usually, she wound up working with Scott, more often than not. He was happy to put up decorations, hang out of windows to hang and adjust wreaths, and run up and down the stairs fetching boxes and greenery.
He was introduced to another Institute custom by Ororo and Warren one weekend.
"Come on, Scott," Ororo called. "We're going shopping! You have to come and pick a name."
Scott put down his book and wandered out of the library. "Huh?"
"Everyone picks a name from the hat," Ororo explained. "That's the person you buy a Christmas present for. And everyone gets twenty dollars to spend and they mustn't spend more than that. Here's your money, and here's the hat. Pick."
Scott took the envelope and reached into the hat, drawing out a small scrap of paper. He opened it. "Ororo" it said.
"Okay," he said. "Let's go."
* * *
They were originally only going to go to the local mall until Scott uttered the shocking words: "I've never been to New York City."
Warren almost drove the car off the road. "What do you mean, you've never been to New York City? Ever?"
"I came straight here, Warren -- you know that. It's not like I've ever left Westchester. Hell, I haven't even left the Salem area," Scott said defensively.
"Well," Warren said, smiling as he changed lanes. "You're in for a treat. Hold on to your seat, Slim. We've got a change in plans."
* * *
Warren drove straight to his family home in Manhattan. The sprawl of suburbs was unremarkable until the skyscrapers appeared in the distance. While Scott had spent years living in cities, none were as big or beautiful as New York. He felt his jaw drop in awe as he stared up towards the sky.
Warren drove along Central Park before turning down a side street and pulling in front of an old four story brownstone. A startled butler opened the door.
"Hey, Martel, how are you doing? You remember Ororo, and this is Scott Summers, another one of The Gifted. Any word from the parental units?"
"Good morning, Mr. Warren. Delighted to see you again, Miss Munroe. Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Summers. And yes, your parents left word that they will be staying in Bangkok until New Years."
"Well, would have been nice if they had told me, but that would have required calling me. Can't have that." Warren led the way to the back of the house.
Scott couldn't help but look around. It was like being in a museum. Old furniture and expensive artwork were all over the place. Warren caught his look of awe.
"Welcome to my world," he said with an airy wave of his hands. Then he grinned. "So, what do you want to do first?"
* * *
The rest of the day was spent sight seeing. They took a cruise around Manhattan, had lunch at Times Square, went to the Statue of Liberty, and toured Ellis Island. Mindful of their reason for being out, they also took in the shops on Fifth Avenue. Not that they could have bought anything for twenty dollars there, but it was fun, nevertheless.
It didn't take long for Warren to convince them to stay overnight. They called the Professor who gave his approval, so they wouldn't have to go back to the Institute until Sunday night. Which left their plans for Saturday night wide open.
Warren had pushed, begged, entreated, for them all to go to a club that night. He might have been able to persuade Scott, but Ororo was made of sterner stuff.
"No," she said firmly. "I'm not of age, and neither is Scott. We can go to dinner, if you wish, but not a club." She was in her ex-Goddess mode and couldn't be moved.
In the end, they stayed in and ordered pizza. They sat in the library of the Worthington house, eating pizza, drinking soda and watching tv. And laughing. Scott couldn't remember having this much fun in a long time.
* * *
The Professor was pleased to see them return in one piece, Sunday night. The trip, based on their reactions, had been successful. The shopping had been done, the "secret" Christmas gifts picked and, best of all, Warren, Scott and Ororo had bonded during the trip. Getting away from the Institute had done them a world of good and it was interesting to see how these three unique teenagers had jelled into a odd sort of team. A team -- that would be something for the Professor to think about.
* * *
Whatever thoughts Charles Xavier might have had for the future were put on hold. There was the Christmas concert at the high school -- Scott had a solo and they all went to the performance, Warren arrived from Yale to spend the holidays and there were even more preparations in the house and the kitchen. Mrs. Hanscomb was going out of town to visit her sister and she seemed determined to prepare enough food to last them the entire two weeks she would be gone.
A week before Christmas, Professor Xavier sat in the main hall, supervising the erection of the gigantic Christmas tree. It took the combined efforts of Scott, Warren, Hank, and Ororo to bring the tree in and set it up.
Mrs. Hanscomb stood in the hall with them, taking a break from her cooking marathon, and answered the door when the bell rang.
"Mrs. McCoy! How wonderful. I feel so much better about leaving, knowing that you were coming." Mrs. Hanscomb sounded downright enthused, Scott thought.
He turned to look at the figure at the door. Scott didn't know what he expected Hank's mother to look like, but he wasn't sure this was it. She was short, a little plump, probably in her late forties, and she certainly didn't stand still for a second. Edna McCoy was a motherly, loving, whirlwind.
Right now, she was all over everyone in the hall. "I'm happy to be here, Mrs. Hanscomb. It's good for Hank to be with his friends and it's a nice change for me. Hank, give your mother a kiss. Charles, you're looking well. Warren, you're looking more handsome every day. Ororo, my pet, I took your advice and my roses came back to life in no time. And you must be Scott," Mrs. McCoy continued warmly, stopping in front of Scott . "Honestly, Charles, don't you feed this boy? He's skin and bones."
"It's not for want of trying, Edna," the Professor commented drily.
"Well, look at that tree," Mrs. McCoy exclaimed. "I love decorating trees. This is going to be a wonderful Christmas, I can tell."
Her enthusiasm enveloped everyone, even Scott.
* * *
The next day, Mrs. Hanscomb left on her vacation and Edna McCoy took over the housekeeping for the group. The meals might be simpler under Mrs. McCoy's hand, but they were just as yummy as far as Scott was concerned.
The day before Christmas, the final food preparations began. Scott found himself with Hank helping Mrs. McCoy in the kitchen. He had never seen so much food in his life. There was the turkey, a ham, vegetables, potatoes, rolls, pies, candy, and something called sausage rolls that the Professor liked. There was enough food to feed the six of them for a week.
Christmas eve, they lit the tree and drank eggnog. Scott, Warren, Ororo, and Hank played board games while the Professor and Mrs. McCoy watched. She leaned closer to speak privately.
"You've done a good job with Scott, you know," she said. "I admit, from what Hank said of his background, I had my doubts."
"I confess, I had my concerns as well, Edna -- not all my students have been resounding successes," Professor Xavier admitted. "But, there is something about Scott. Have you noticed how he wins any game that requires strategy? He has good instincts and he's quite intelligent. And he has a remarkable sense of space and movement. He's much stronger than he looks, as well."
"What are you planning, Charles?" Mrs. McCoy was suddenly concerned. Hank and Jean were adults, but the others -- they were only children.
"I'm not sure," he confessed. "But the world won't be blind to the presence of mutants forever. We need to be able to act if necessary." Professor Xavier smiled ruefully. "That's as far as my plans have gotten."
"He's a child, Charles," Mrs. McCoy reminded him sharply.
"No, Edna, he's not. Scott hasn't been a child for a long time. But don't worry. I won't involve any of them until I decide what I want done. And that may take time."
But Edna McCoy was still disturbed.
* * *