Max Trask slipped the off-white phone from its cradle and held it to his ear by the very top. He stared at a man who looked as hard as the glass he sat behind. Red veins swirled to his eyes which looked dim, even compared to his bland skin. White hairs assaulted his dark brown eyebrows and below his pointed nose only a thin black line of a mouth remained. The man sighed but pulled the phone to his own ear. He said nothing.
"What's up pop?" Max asked.
"What are you doing here Max?" His father asked.
Max rolled his eyes. "Ah, don't be stupid, you know why I'm here." He propped up the little Happy Birthday card up against the window with his left hand and gave him a lop-sided grin.
His father's face did not change, but a sharp breath rushed out of his nose and he rubbed his forehead. "Well, these stupid people seem to think I committed some crime against humanity when I was actually helping it against these freaks," he huffed. "Mutants. They're the ones who keep me away from my son, it's all their fault."
The room grew cold and Max shivered. He felt something sink and die inside of him. The fact that his father despised mutants never crossed his mind. He shook his head at his own stupidity. "Dad…mutants didn't put you here, you tried to kill them and almost killed thousands of people in the process. It's your own fault." He tried to say the words lightly but the came out harsh and hot. Max felt personally wounded.
His father's eyes darkened and his brows came together in a V shape. "So my own son's defending them. My own son's a mutant-lover, huh? That makes you a sick as they are-"
"Dad they're not sick!" The thread of patience unraveled as he spoke. "What they have is a gift, I know…some have the power to heal people just by touching them, Dad…think of how great that is?"
"And what about the one's who can walk through walls, or control people's minds? What about them?" His father shouted.
Max groaned. "Dad. Okay what about the wrong person with a gun in his hand?"
"Different-"
"No, It's not a different situation!" The thread snapped. "Dad…I can't even talk to you. No matter what I say it won't change the fact that you're the most stubborn man in the whole world." The chair screamed as Max hung up the phone, stood and pushed it away. He threw the card down on the table and turned to go. But he stopped, turned, and yelled into the phone; "By the way Dad, I'm one of them- I'm a freak too. Happy Birthday!" He put the phone back in its cradle and walked to the door. As he exited he pointed his finger to the exit sign. Blue waves of electric current shot from it and the light died. The door slammed shut behind him.