Chapter 4
Elena Parnova had him bundled up in a large quilt with heavy wool socks on his feet, and he'd had to talk her out of a scarf to go around his neck. He sipped a strong brew of mint tea with a grimace on his face, as his sweet Matusa fussed over him lovingly. She adjusted his pillows and just sat and played with his hair or rubbed his back. He didn't feel that horrible, but the attention was nice; it was a good distraction.
He handed the steaming mug back to Matusa; he couldn't drink anymore,it was too bitter. She placed the mug on the night stand and pressed her wrinkled hands against his cheeks then his forehead, "You have a fever, but it is not bad. If you stay in bed and rest, you will be fine soon. This Darkholme, she could not take care of you?"
Pietro shook his head, "She's got other things to take care of."
"A sick child should be at the top of her list of things to take care of," Matusa Elena shook her head. "You lie down and try to take a little nap. I'm going to make you something to eat."
"Mamaliga?" he eased himself down on the bed letting his head rest on a fluffy pillow. He could taste the hot cornmeal porridge his Mama used to make in the mornings and left on the small stove all day next to other meals she would prepare. His little tummy had been so sensitive to spices and heavy sauces in which the usual foods were cooked; the porridge was the only thing his Mama knew wouldn't hurt him.
Matusa Elena smiled warmly. "Alright then, iubito. You sleep; I'll cook. I'm going to leave the door open, so you can call for me if you need me."
"Thank you," he murmured softly and pulled the quilt up to his chin. The small woman lingered in the doorway for a moment before she left.
Lance hadn't asked any questions as Pietro had given him directions to Matusa Elena's house. The drive had put him 30 minutes out of his way, but he didn't seem to mind at all. Pietro sat on the passenger side of the jeep feeling chilled, moderately ill, and perplexed. It wasn't like Lance to be so agreeable. He hadn't really raised his voice or shook the ground more than once.
It was strange to sit in the jeep spilling his inner thoughts to someone besides his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He didn't know if it made him feel better. Having someone else besides himself know how weak he was, was not comforting, but it did make him feel a little closer to Lance. The guy liked to pretend he was their father at times. Pietro already had a father, but he sucked...so Lance filling in from time to time was ok, he guessed.
Wanda-Wanda-Wanda-Wanda.... his mind kept ranting at him; flashes of her at various stages in their young lives in Transia and when they'd first come to America ran through his mind. She had long hair then; long hair that curled at its ends and he used to tie knots in it to make her angry. Tata would spank him, if he could catch him, for making her cry.
When they weren't teasing each other, they were usually the best of friends. They stuck together; none of the other children in the caravan, but their cousins, wanted to play with them. Their parents had said that Pietro and Wanda came from a strange place and weren't the Maximoffs natural children. They didn't like their pale skin or Pietro's silver hair. These unnatural children would bring bibaxt, bad luck, to them.
Maybe they were right. Pietro shuddered as images of flames entered his mind.
He felt Wanda's tiny, sweaty palm in his. Fear and a strong need to get away fueled his body, and suddenly, everything was moving so slowly. He was grateful for it was giving him a chance to get both himself and his sister away. Mama and Tata were lost; he'd seen them struck down. Mama had screamed for them to run, and through the fire they'd tried to run, but then the dogs had come.
He could see those dogs; they were frozen with their mouths open in vicious soundless snarls. Pietro glanced back at Wanda to see that she too seemed to be motionless; her eyes were wide and tears stood still against her dirty cheeks. What was happening, and did he care? The chaos had stopped, and they could get away. Wanda was not unyielding in his grip and he could pull her along without much hassle. She wasn't that much bigger than he was.
He ran for a long time, and slowly, slowly the world began to move at its regular pace...and his heart began to pound faster and harder as its pace fell into step with that of the real world. Pietro collapsed, bringing Wanda down on top of him. The little girl shrieked, "Where are we? What happened? Pietro? Pietro!"
He shifted in the large soft bed, rolling onto one side and curling into a ball. The minor aches in his muscles and limbs were increasing, and the pains in his head and throat were becoming worse. He shivered and regretted not accepting the scarf Matusa Elena had tried to strangle him with.
"Vrajitoare! Vrajitoare!" Wanda shrank away from the man pointing at her and looking nervously at his broken vending cart that the girl had obviously played some part in destroying. She'd tried to take one of his apples, and when he'd yelled at her, his cart had broken in half, apples rolling everywhere. Her white-haired brother watched fearfully, and the small twins wrapped their arms around each other as the villagers came down upon them. There was no where to run this time.
"Kill the witch..." was the chant the mob was singing, as they closed in.
Pietro and Wanda held each other tighter, pressing their faces onto each other's shoulders. They didn't want to see their killers. Hot tears wet the left shoulder of Pietro's tattered shirt. They didn't want to be with their Mama and Tata yet. Their sobs grew louder as they felt the heat of fire coming toward them... someone had lit a torch; they were going to be burned alive.
There were gasps and yelps of surprise, then fear. The heat was removed, and the feeling of being crowded was gone. Pietro dared to raise his face from Wanda's shoulder to see that the crowd was moving back; their own carts had come to attack them and chase them out of the way. A strange man in a red cape hovered in the air before them. He landed on the ground and knelt holding out his hands to them. Pietro stared and shook Wanda to get her to look too. Her teary blue eyes first observed the stunned mob, then she found the man in red. He had blue eyes just like theirs...and he smiled. "Come," he said to them in Sinte and without another second's hesitation, they had. They had let him gather them up in his strong arms and he took them away.
What was Wanda doing now? Could she be resting too, or maybe she was working with that old woman... Would she be ready to talk to him when he got home, or would she try to hurt him again? He didn't want to think about Wanda hurting him, as she would have if Lance and Freddy hadn't of been protecting him. Wanda had tried to hurt him.
"Please Father, please; I'm sorry..." Pietro cried, trying to wrench his small arm free of his Father's strong grip. The large man held his arm at an angle above his head, nearly lifting him from the ground. He could feel the delicate bone threatening to snap.
"Show me you're sorry! Work harder!"
He was thrown to the floor. His Father wanted him to run again, to make the speed come, but he didn't know how. He didn't know how to make it come voluntarily; it came and it went. He didn't dare say he was tired again; that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. He tried to concentrate on running, on moving fast, but his head spun. He was tired and he was hungry.
"I see no change in anything," Father was furious as he watched the machines the needles stuck under Pietro's tender skin the long wires were attached to. "Heart and breathing rate still normal; blood pressure is elevated."
"He's tired, Father! Leave him alone!" Wanda stood in front of the machines glaring at their Father. The technology began to sizzle and smoke emitting small sparks of electricity at Wanda's displeasure with the situation.
"Wanda control yourself!"
"Take those things off of him! He's hungry and he's sleepy!"
"Wanda..." the warning growl.
"You're mean!"
"If you do not calm down this instant, I will see to it that Pietro eats nothing for the rest of the day!"
No! He was so hungry. He hadn't had anything to eat at all. Father had him working from the time he'd shaken him awake during the previous night.
"No! You can't!"
"Stop it now," Father commanded, and the sizzling and sparks stopped. "You will learn restraint. There will be no more outbursts like this or your brother will pay for them. Now go back upstairs; I will bring Pietro up to join you when I am finished with him!"
Wanda fled, but not before looking at him in apology. She would never do anything that could endanger his well being again.
Cool fingers on his forehead roused him from his feverish slumber. He smelled the familiar odor of cornmeal porridge and allowed his eyes to flutter open. Matusa Elena's brows were drawn together in deep concern, "Your fever is rising, iubito. How are you feeling?"
He answered her question with a coughing fit that made him sit up and lean over his knees. It hurt too much to stay lying down. Her gentle hands rubbed and patted his back until he regained control of his breathing functions. "Lousy," he breathed as soon as he could choke out words.
"You sound lousy," Matusa Elena chuckled. "I will have to get you some cough syrup." She ruffled his hair then lifted a bowl from the small table beside the bed, "I've made your porridge, copil; I want you to eat all of it. Then I will give you medicine for your fever. You stay here tonight, yes?"
Pietro accepted the warm bowl and the large silver spoon. He stirred the thick contents a bit before meeting Matusa Elena's inquiring gaze. "I... I don't know. My friend will be back to get me later, and Ms. Darkholme's really weird about us not being home. She might need us for something."
"Nonsense, you are a sick boy. That woman has no need of you."
His adopted Matusa did not know Mystique.
He took in a spoonful of porridge, relishing its slightly sweet taste; he could almost see his Mama smiling at him. He swallowed, fighting a grimace of pain. His Mama would feed him if he was sick; she'd sit him in her lap and rock him back and forth.
He was too big for that now... but did he ever want it. He stuffed himself with porridge until the bowl was empty, trying to relive every memory of his mother the familiar food could bring. The porridge was washed down by more hot tea, then he swallowed two tablets of Advil and was tucked back into bed. "When that boy comes, I will tell him you will stay here until you are feeling better, ok?"
Pietro didn't try to argue with her. He would leave when Lance arrived, and she couldn't stop him, but until then it was nice to be cared for.
Todd sat sullenly in the backseat of the jeep; he was not anxious to go home. He'd given Mystique the note he'd been sent home with from school, and she'd hit the roof. She screamed at him and called him every detrimental name she could conjure. Todd thought he was used to people calling him names, and that he'd toughened his skin against it... but some insults still managed to leave marks. He didn't like being called stupid, or retarded. He didn't like being told he was practically worthless.
He'd gone to school with a cloud over his head. He handed in the carefully done and checked over homework with none of the pride he'd felt when he'd first finished it. He just wanted the day to be over with so he could climb into bed with a comic and a flashlight and pull the covers over his head to escape.
Fred had been very nice to him, walking with him to school after discovering they'd been ditched by Lance and Pietro, slipping him an extra dollar at lunch so he could purchase something sweet and pretty much lacking in nutritional value, and fending the usual bullies off of him between class periods. Lance had made himself scarce and didn't even show up to lunch, and Pietro was no where to be seen.
Both Fred and Todd were surprised to see Lance still in the parking lot waiting for the both of them. "Figured you were gonna ditch us again. That was really low this morning. We wanted to get away from Mystique too, and I bet you went and got something to eat!"
Lance rolled his eyes with a slight grin, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I was humoring Pi; he wasn't doing too good this morning. If it's any consolation to you, we didn't get breakfast, just gas."
Fred's annoyance dissipated, and he looked mildly concerned, "Poor guy."
"Yeah," Lance sighed. He glanced in the backseat at Todd, "What's wrong with you, Frogger?"
"Nothin'," Todd muttered. He didn't want to talk about it; he wanted to forget it. "Can we just go? I wanna go home."
"What happened?" Lance frowned. "Did someone pick on you? Do I need to kick someone's ass?"
Todd slumped lower in the seat and played with the zipper of his jacket. Lance would leave him alone after a while. He knew when it was best to let things go with Todd. He would seek Lance out and talk to him when he was ready. He wasn't one to let things fester.
Fred elbowed Lance, gave him a meaningful look, and mouthed something that made both of Lance's eyebrow's go up as if saying, "Oh."
"Hey Todd... how about we stop by McDonald's or somewhere, my treat?"
Well Todd may have been in a rotten mood, but he wasn't about to turn down free food not burned by Fred...but he couldn't sound too enthusiastic about it or Lance wouldn't spring for a chocolate shake to wash down his Big Mac and large fries. "Whatever, yo. Can we go home after?"
"Uh...we gotta pick up Pietro first, then we can go home."
"Pick up Pietro?" Fred asked. "Wouldn't he have just gotten to work by now? Why did he go if he wanted you to pick him up right when he got there?"
"He didn't go to work today," Lance started the car and put in drive.
"Why not; he loves that place?"
"He isn't feeling well; he finally admitted to it this morning. He had me drop him off at this old lady's house. It's someone he knows from the bookstore. She seemed really nice; she hugged him and all and pulled him inside. He didn't say anything about wanting me to come get him...but you know..." Lance shrugged.
They pulled out into the traffic in front of the high school and hit the main road.
"He talk any about Wanda?"
"Yeah, yeah, he did. The kid's really messed up about it. I know she's got some kind of weird psycho power that can take mine any day, but I swear if she tries to hurt him again, I'll find a way to take her down."
"That bad?"
"Worse," Lance shook his head. "I've never seen him like that. He was a nervous wreck, and then he's sick on top of it. Mystique sure has great timing."
"Always did," Fred said dryly. "Hey! You're passing up Mickey D's!" He grabbed the steering wheel and the jeep swerved across four lanes of traffic into the parking lot of McDonald's. Furious car horns honked, brakes shrieked, tires squealed, and Lance and Todd screamed. "Alright Pretty Boy, since you're buying, I want 4 Big Macs, 4 large fries, 2 strawberry shakes, 2 apples pies, and a McFish sandwich...oh and a 6 piece chicken nugget."
Todd gripped the back of Lance's seat, waiting for his stomach to rejoin him after it'd been left behind in the turning lane they had been in. "Uh..." he stammered, "if you have any money left after all that, can you get me a number 4?"
Lance was gripping the steering wheel and breathing heavily, "I think you just took 10 years off my life, Freddy! You're lucky if I get you a McSalad!"
Todd wanted to chuckle at the look on Freddy's face, but Todd had to wonder: would it really hurt the Blob to eat a healthy meal? Slowly Lance rolled through the drive-thru stopping at the large menu board, "Todd, what do you want? Get whatever, and whatever I have left over I'll get you something with Freddy."
"And what about you, yo? You told us you didn't get breakfast with Pi, and I bet you didn't eat lunch, and you didn't eat dinner last night. Fred doesn't need to eat as much as you do. You're gonna be able to wear Speedy's clothes in a week."
"I'll never be that bony," Lance muttered with a smirk. "Look Todd, I'll eat something at home. This is for you, buddy. Get what you want."
Every time he screwed up, Lance was willing to buy him gifts; why? He felt good for a while; no one ever cared about him enough to want to buy him things to make him feel better. But then later he would think about the expense to Lance, all the ice cream, the movies, the happy meals, and he could never give the older boy anything in return. He didn't have a job, because Lance wouldn't let him get one, so he couldn't buy Lance anything nice. He could steal from Pietro for money, but Pietro would hang him by his toes when he found out. The guy was obsessive compulsive and could tell just by looking when something was missing from his room.
Todd just couldn't feel right for being treated like a prince when he'd done something stupid...again. All he had to do was homework. When he actually sat down and concentrated on the stuff, it wasn't that hard. When he listened to his teacher, things actually made sense. He wasn't dumb– just lazy, and his laziness brought his friends grief. He really shouldn't accept any more treats from Lance. He needed to stop being a baby and insist he be allowed to get a job to pay his friends back.
"Todd? Your order?" They were at the speaker now, and Lance was looking at him.
"Uh...." Ah hell, he was hungry. He could be righteous starting tomorrow; right then, he still felt lousy and a chocolate shake would do wonders for his morale. "A number 4 with a small chocolate shake," Todd leaned out on his side to talk into the speaker.
"Freddy?" Lance asked.
"No, why don't you get something man? We still got left overs in the fridge. Todd's right; you ain't been eating enough."
So, Lance ordered a salad, Todd got his number 4, and Fred got a happy meal with what was left over. They drove listening to the country-western radio Fred chose with Todd mocking the singers' twangs. "Yo, after we get Pi, do we gotta go home?"
"I thought you wanted to go right home, Todd?"
"Nah..." Todd shook his head, and spread out across the backseat breathing in the fresh cold air blowing in on him. "This is better than blankets and comic books any day. Hey, how 'bout we don't go back... at all? I mean, nobody's happy there. Let Mystique and Pietro's psycho sister have the house; it's going to crap anyway. We can...get an apartment, or something cool like that! Lets get out of this town; make real lives for ourselves!"
Lance laughed, "And how much do you think all of that's gonna cost, Todd?"
"I dunno," Todd stared up at the frosty blue sky and shielded his eyes from the bright sun whose rays didn't quite cut through the frigidity of the atmosphere. "If we go to Alaska, we could live out in the woods, build a cabin...wouldn't cost us anything."
"Alaska? Todd, we'd freeze to death. You know how cold you and Pietro get. What fun would it be listening to you two complain all day?"
"Alright then... Australia. Find something wrong with that? It's nice and warm, and they got kangaroos!"
"Hmm... can't argue with that. Sounds great. You buy the tickets, and we'll be at the airport."
"We'll steal the X-Jet. That way we can pack some stuff up too without having to pay all those storage fees and junk like that. You know how to fly it; don't you Lance?"
"Oh no, I'm not riding in that flying death trap again!"
"Aw come on! One bad experience and you're ready to write it off for good? How else we gonna get to Aussie-Land? Come on, don't spoil our master plan Lance!"
"Yeah, Lance, I wanna meet Crocodile Dundee."
"Not you too, Fred!"
"Two against one Lance," Todd cheered sitting up and ruffling Lance's hair. He gazed around at their new surroundings rather than the sky that time. "Hey– just where does this lady live? Are we even in Bayville anymore?"
The neighborhood they drove through was populated by mostly two story Victorian style houses shadowed by tall trees decked with layers and layers of brightly colored Autumn leaves. Occasionally, they would see a few kids out playing on the sidewalk. The kids would stop their games to stare at the weird entourage as they drove passed. "I feel like I'm in a movie, yo. Pietro knows someone here?"
"Yup," Lance pulled into a short driveway beside an older house two story house with white wood. "You guys stay here; I'll go get him."
"Yeah.." Todd leaned into the front seat and shared a look with Freddy, "The two of us would probably scare the shit out of anyone who would live here."
They watched Lance go to the door, jumping as a stripped cat ran through his legs. They snickered, and waited while he knocked. A petite elderly woman with light brown skin and long dark hair pulled back in a thick braid answered the door. She and Lance talked for a few moments, then Lance disappeared inside.
"Bet she offered him milk and cookies, yo," Todd whispered to Fred who looked envious. He munched on the Ronald McDonald shaped cookies from his happy meal glumly.
"He better bring some out to us, if she did."
"I wonder what it's like in their yo... Wonder if it's full of old furniture and smells like gingerbread? You know, like grandma's houses that you see on TV. I bet she knits sweaters and stuff."
"Yeah..." Fred sighed. He looked as hungry to look inside as Todd did. There was something about watching old sitcoms or family movies that almost made them both feel mushy and sad. Those programs reminded them of how like other people they weren't, how they'd been cheated in life. The only other home Todd knew besides the crumbling Brotherhood Boarding House was the roach infested apartment he'd lived in with his alcoholic, bipolar mother. He'd never known a father, just plenty of dead beat boyfriends who liked to beat the hell out of him when playing daddy, and grandmothers...hah! As far as he knew his grandmother had disowned his mother after she'd stolen over 500 dollars from her trailer. Todd didn't even know what she looked like and was certain the woman probably didn't even know he existed.
About 15 minutes went by and there was still no Lance. Todd was starting to get very cold, and Fred had moved to the backseat to put an arm around him. He felt a little better against Freddy's padding. "What's taking so long?"
Fred frowned, "I don't know... you think something's going on?"
"What could go on in a house like that? She's probably making Lance stay for dinner or something. He could have come back out and invited us in, yo. A nice- looking lady like that probably wouldn't mind us much."
"Nah, I bet she wouldn't. Wanna get out and go knock?"
"If they don't come out in about 5 more minutes, yeah, yo. Lets get our own cookies, man."
"Wonder if she's got whole milk or that 2% crap."
"You crazy? Grandma's keep whole milk! They like fat and lard; none of that new school health junk ever lives in their pantries or fridges. You'd never see Sofia on the Golden Girls drinking skim milk."
"You watch Golden Girls?"
"Shut up," Todd blushed. He looked back toward the porch, and sighed in relief when he saw Lance coming out with Pietro. The woman wasn't very happy from her facial expression. She kissed Pietro on the forehead, making him lean down a bit so she could reach it, before letting them off the porch. Lance wrapped an arm around Pietro and led him to the jeep.
"Hey guys, sorry we took so long. Fred, you gonna sit back in back with Todd? I thought you liked the leg room up front?" Lance opened the driver's side door, but stared in the back at Fred and Todd.
"Todd was cold," Fred said simply. He gazed at Pietro, "Where do you wanna sit, Speedy? I don't mind moving to make room for ya; you don't look too good."
Fred wasn't lying; Todd didn't think he'd ever seen his fast-moving friend look worse. The large bags beneath his eyes were dark as bruises, and his forehead was peppered with perspiration. His hair hung limp and damp into his pale haggard face.
"Doesn't matter," Pietro murmured, he climbed into the empty front passenger seat and curled up against the chair.
"Buckle your seatbelt," Lance patted his shoulder and didn't back out of the driveway until he did.
They drove back through the neighborhood, and Todd resumed his conversation about their relocation project. "Hey Pi, we're gonna move to Australia so we don't gotta go back to the Boarding House. You game?"
"Australia?" Pietro gazed into the backseat, "Why there? They have snakes bigger than Fred that eat things bigger than Fred."
"Geez... there's no pleasing everyone is there? Ok, ok...complain about Tahiti!"
"Hmm... it actually might not be too crowded around this time of year."
"Haha! We've got a place; everyone agree on Tahiti?"
"Do they got McDonald's?" Fred asked.
"I don't know," Todd shrugged. "But who needs McDonald's there? We'll have lovely women in bikini's and stuff to do our cooking! Hey Rocky, Speedy, that lady have cookies and pie and stuff in there? What took so long, yo?"
"Um, no, at least if she did, she didn't offer me any. She have cookies and stuff in there, Pi?"
"Probably, she likes to cook."
"Speedy's uh...what did you call her?"
"Matusa...it means Aunt; she's from Romania."
"Really? Damn, what are the odds? So you and her talk Romanian and stuff together? Does she make weird food?" Todd crawled over Freddy to lean in closer to Pietro.
"If I ask her to."
"She wanted him to stay there for the night. You know, it might not be a bad idea...but I don't know how Mystique would take to that. I would hate to bring Ms. Parnova into a dispute with Mystique." Lance paused for a moment, then said in a softer voice, "She really likes you a lot Pietro. She'd probably let you live with her."
"She wants me to. She's been asking for a while; a lot of the old ladies from the shop tell me how they wouldn't mind me staying with them. They don't think Mystique's a good guardian."
"What's keeping you with us then? I mean, I know why you can't just go now...Mystique's back...but before, when she was gone...?"
"I can't leave you guys, and then there's... what if he...."
"Your Dad's long gone, Pietro. We haven't seen or heard from him since Asteroid M," Fred touched the slight boy's shoulder over the seat. "None of us would have minded at all."
Todd made no sound. He would have minded. Not only would he feel betrayed and abandoned if Pietro left to live with one of his "shop ladies," but he would feel jealous.
"Nah..." Pietro settled back against his seat shutting his eyes, "I belong with you guys. We're a club, remember?"
"Oh yeah..." Fred chuckled, and Todd sighed in relief. He pushed himself through the gap that separated the front and back of the car and rested the top half of his body an the armrest.
"You'd never leave us, huh? None of us would ever leave. We're a family right?"
Fred shifted in the backseat, Lance stared straight ahead guiltily, and Pietro kept his eyes closed. "Right?" Why was no one jumping in? He felt a queasy sensation in his stomach.
"Right, Todd," Lance said, his brown eyes locked onto Todd's golden ones. "We're a family, and we stick together."
"Even in Tahiti?"
"Todd, you are such a retard," Pietro breathed.
"Even in Tahiti, Todd. Unless some fine Native ladies come and take me hostage."
"We'll make special allowances for that," Todd assured Lance; he grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks man," he whispered.
"No problem, bro."
"So um...guys, where are we going? Back to the Boarding House, we stealing an X-Jet, or what?" Fred asked loudly.
"Well... we need to do some brainstorming to come up with a good enough plan to steal the X-Jet, and it's getting kind of cold for us to stay out in the jeep and figure one out. I also gotta be at work in an hour. I think we'd better get back to the Boarding House. We'll storm some more when I get home, ok?"
"Sure Lance."
The jeep went silent as they traveled the familiar path back home, all of them wondering just what would be in store for them when they finally got there.
Author's Note: So....how was it? You like, you no like? Tell me! Tell me! Well, I hope you liked it. I have the next chapter ready; if you want it, let me know by REVIEWING ;). Take care!