Lucky Me
Chapter 016
"Tell me about your family."
Again, I just stared at him as if he grew hair. I thought that was what he said before, but I wasn't too certain. Now I knew. The man was crazy.
"Why?" I asked, finding it hard to sit still. With the wings, I more or less either had to lean forward while straddling a chair or prop up against something.
"During and after the conflict a few days ago, you seemed to be heavily occupied with thoughts about your father. I would like to help you sort through any feelings and conflicts you might be experiencing," Professor Xavier clarified, but it still didn't hold enough sympathy I thought it should. Maybe it was just the way this guy was. Who knew?
Another thought was: why should you care?
I guessed I didn't think quietly as I thought I did, because the Professor looked up at me and sighed.
"I can understand that the past few months have been difficult for you. Coming to terms with being a mutant is never an easy thing to do."
Sort of like dying, you only had to do it once.
"You're wrong," I kept forgetting to be quiet while thinking. Maybe I should have started shouting while I thought, maybe then I wouldn't have people taking part in my internal conversations. With me and my brain fighting all the time I didn't need another team on the field. "Being a mutant isn't something you simply have to endure once. It is something you will be reminded of every time you wake up and everywhere you go."
This man would never make it on a suicide hotline; the people would end up doing the opposite of what he wanted them to do (Unless he pulled that 'I'm-in-charge-do-as-I-say' voice on them) because quite frankly, at being sympathetic, this man sucked.
"I thought you wanted to talk about my family, not me," I pondered out loud just to keep from creeping out if I thought it and he answered again.
Professor observed me with one eyebrow arched, which I might add looked funny on a bald guy. Like his hairy eyebrows were trying to run to the top of his skull to cover it up or something.
"What is it you want to know?"
"Tell me about your mother."
I sighed.
"My mom's name is Heather Lynn Carthy-D'mon. She's going on thirty-seven."
"That's a start." Then the man smiled. "What does she do?"
"She's a hairstylist. She owns her own salon and everything, called 'E-clips'." If we were going to play twenty questions, this was going to take a very long time.
"I see." Professor then touched his scalp, "So I would never visit her."
I let out a tiny, itty bit laugh. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad. Even though he shoved me into the male dorm and all. "Guess not."
"How does she feel about mutants?"
Right to final death! I didn't have to think about it. Who would? She kicked me out and threatened to call the cops on me the day I came home with the X-Men.
"You were there," I replied flatly.
"Yes, I remember her reluctance to accept the changes you were going through," as was I, let's not forget that! "but I was curious as to why she was so fearful of mutants. Do you remember any reason why she'd feel so strongly against them to the point of rejecting her own daughter?"
Wow, this day had started off okay and was quickly going downhill. There's nothing like someone reminding you that your mother didn't want anything to do with you. Thank you, Professor Xavier; I was going to go drown myself in a lake now.
"Ask her." But, oh yeah! She's not talking to me! Duh!
"What about your father?" Smooth, real smooth change of topic, Professor.
"He's dead," I stated matter-of-factly.
"How did he die?"
"Shot."
"Was he a police officer?"
"My dad was a carpenter." I gave him a heartbeat to ask if he was shot with a nail gun, but he didn't. I don't like talking about my dad, but did this man get it by now? Nope. He continued to pester and question about my dad. I was pretty tight lipped about the details of my father, and the reason I got so into mutants after he died. It wasn't until I was finally let out of the office and the 20 questions game that I shivered. My Dad died because of mutants.
Because he didn't like them either.
Because he was part of some faction known as the F.o.H. or Friends of Humanity, pretty corny title, huh?
She had cookies!
Real, authentic, and gooey-to-the-touch cookies! They were within my grasp, so close yet so far away! I just walked downstairs (which, if I was a cartoon character I would have floated in via the smell) when I saw those heavenly delicacies strutting by on a plate in the hands of Mrs. Jean. She must have caught my thoughts (or heard my eyes pop out of their sockets, whatever it was) because she turned momentarily to show me just what a huge plate of cookies it was, and then disappeared into the den.
"Ker-bear!" Annoying nickname #2, invented by D-M. At least it was better than Bobby's 'Grace' remarks.
"Hello," I answered, hopefully in a voice that let her know I was not appreciative of my nickname.
"You must have sniffed them out!" She continued in her ever so happy way. D-M reminded me of Lila off of Hey, Arnold! (yes, I'm a closet cartoon watcher) the way nothing effects her.
"Yeah, it's pretty hard not to."
I followed the smell of the cookies, halfway listening to the girl as she carried on about something or another. "Smells so good."
"Personally, Ah think they put on too much aftershave, but whoever has the cologne on smells pretty darn good."
Huh? When'd cookies shave and put on smells? They smelt good enough already. In fact, I tried to follow them into the room, only to find the flippin' door was locked! I heard something from the other side of the door before something talked into my head.
/I would let you have some, but since you seem to prefer Gambit's cooking over mine.../
Ahh! The woman was evil! I didn't know if she caught my little dark cloud of a reply, but I heard a woman laugh. I felt like kicking down the door and throwing a fit like a spoiled two-year-old. I would have, really, I would've! (Okay, maybe not.) I said before that I don't mind getting bossed around as long as I can stand the person and at some point in time I can pitch a fit that would make a French poodle jealous.
At some point D-M disappeared and someone else came, I only knew this after they said something.
"Trying to make another explosive entrance are you, Grace?"
I let out an 'eep' as my wings sucker punched him.
I kid you not.
They shot back from my surprise, and knocked that joker man!
"Oh man!" I guess D-M wasn't as gone as I thought. I turned around to see Bobby-Jerk sprawled across the floor with his head propped against the staircase. I decided to be surprised and sorry later, as for the moment, I just burst out laughing as the man grumbled and rose to his feet. He tripped on his own feet but caught his balance quickly enough.
"What'd I do to you?" Bobby-Jerk asked, rubbing the back of his head. Of course Daisy, the eternal good-girl, was helping him balance.
"Want I should make a list?" I sassed, snickering as he rolled his eyes. I didn't get a cookie, but at least I got something sweet—revenge. As small and pathetic as it seemed, it was worth it.
Banging my head against the sink lip hurt, but it didn't stop me from doing it.
I wonder if I stuck my head in the dishwater would I drown first or would choke on my own lunch? I despised doing dishes. Never had I ever had to do so many plates, forks, cups, and everything else in one day than now. It was a chore at home, but man, at my family knew how to use a cup more than once for the same drink!
And as an added bit of sadistic humor, Mrs. Jean made sure I was standing around doing dishes when she rinsed off the plate where my beloved, much missed sugary sweetness once sat then left it on the counter to be cleaned. I know everyone has a little nasty streak in them, but come on! This was just plain cruel! First deprived of cookies, being called 'too fat' to have them, and now his wife was out to get me! It's like there were two sets of people walking around here! One was good, nice, and kind to everything (bridging on Snow Whiteness) and the other was the evil twin who was usually locked up and only let out on holidays.
Except Bobby-Jerk, he's a jerk through and through. No two ways about it. And as for D-M, I have finally decided that she was not real, but a battery operated marshmallow.
All I needed now was a big fire to prove my theory.
I needed a life.
And something told me I wouldn't find it in the murky dishwater, but what else could I do? Laundry? Riiiiight.
After the huge uproar about Mr. Logan wearing Sam's pink bunny boxers, and Bobby-Jerk's Hawaiian print shirts all being bleached into tie dye wannabes, oh, and I should not forget to mention that Mr. Summers found out rather painfully that spandex can indeed shrink. (It helps if you wash it about four times in hot water with lots of soup and softener). As punishment for my reckless revenge (Professor's words, not mine) my allowance was suspended.
I didn't even know I got an allowance that could be suspended.
On top of that cheerful note, I was also forced to do the dishes, and Bobby-Jerk (who was still grounded, sheesh, it seemed like it took a lot to get these people upset, but when you do they can be some real meanies) got the laundry duty. And as a 'let's not have this happen again' type thing, I was allowed out of the house once a weekend—to go grocery shopping.
To go grocery shopping with Bobby-Jerk. With lists.
I started to bang my head against the sink lip again.
"Whatcha doin'?"
Oh yeah, just perfect. The only person to be weird enough to walk in here would have to be Sam.
"Wishing for the end."
"Uh-huh," there was a pause in my head banging, "When you get finished with that, Professor wants to see everyone in his study at three."
Oh, peachy perfect.
I continued to bang my head.
By the time I finished the dishes, went to plop down on the mat I used in D-M's room it was three. So, I was dragged down the steps to where all the newbies were being introduced. It felt like the first day of summer camp, you know when all the counselors were nice, and the owner was actually able to be found outside their air conditioned office. Since I rarely saw the whole household together (and without wearing spandex) I decided to attempt to name them all.
There were some mystery boys in the middle, and of course there was Mr. I'm-going-to-weigh-you-at-the-end-of-the-month-Summers, along with his vengeful vixen, Mrs. Jean. Professor was busy looking all important, Miss Munroe was smiling at one of the boys while Miss Rogue glared at Mr. Remy. Dr. Hank was yawning, as Bobby-Jerk punched him in the shoulder playfully. Sam was shaking one of the other boy's hands; D-M was drooling over every one of them. Mr. Maggot had apparently found Monet tolerable, or vice versa, Jubilee was talking Mr. Logan's ears off. Mr. Warren was on a cell phone, and then there was this big black guy.
I didn't remember seeing him around before, I mean, it's not exactly as if he would be easy to hide. He was huge (tall, not fat).
"Ker-re," Daisy-Mae shouted, waving me down.
This girl did not know how to be discrete for the life of her! I guessed she didn't think I moved fast enough because she grabbed my arm to haul me to the mystery guys. "You've got to meet these guys! They're great!"
Like I had a choice.
"This is Adrian Corbo," she introduced yanked me to a rather quiet looking guy. I guessed he was around our age, if not younger. "He's from Canada, isn't that cool?"
"Hi," was all he said, and then found his feet interesting.
Lugged over to the next person, "And this is Chris Bradley." This guy looked like he could kill anyone at any given moment. He was ticked. "He was here before."
"Humph," Was his salutation, as I was pulled to the next person I stuck my tongue out at the guy and muttered 'jerk' under my breath.
"And this is Adam Burman."
This guy looked like a grunge lover. Messy hair, in style sun glasses, loose-fitting pants, and a baggy t-shirt with a band's name scrawled on it. "He's like a genius."
"I wouldn't go that far," Adam's smile ruined his confession. Dr. Hank (bless him!) showed up at that time, but before he got two words out, Adam was all over him. "Oh wow! Dr. McCoy, it's a real honor to meet you sir!" Burman started to gush all over the furry doctor, and you could almost feel Dr. Hank's ego grow.
As soon as D-M left me, I was going to flee. I didn't care where as long as it wasn't in such a big crowd. But before I could escape to the kitchen, or anywhere else, I felt a huge hand on my shoulder.
"You're the other new girl," came a deep voice.
I swallowed. Did every one practice the art of fear in this household? If they didn't watch it, I'd literally jump out of my skin again! I turned and smiled impishly at this huge, hulking mountain of a man with his hand on my shoulder. "Y-yes, sir."
"Kerry D'mon?'
"Y-yes sir." My goosebumps wouldn't even come to the surface; they had goosebumps of their own to worry about!
"I thought so," Was all he said, turned around, and walked away.
I later found out (through the social butterfly, D-M) that the man's name was Lucas Bishop and he was from the future.
My reply, whatever!
People from the future, what next, clones from another dimension?
Get real!
