Chapter 2: Cloudy with a Chance of Flying Waffles
A week had passed since hurricane Owen hit the coast. There was a good bit of damage in town and the people were working their hardest together to help clean up. As usual, the lighthouse and cottage were untouched, so Que spent her time helping with repairs around town. It was funny to think that it wasn't until the past year that she dared venture into town or speak to others there.
The three years prior, she spent most of the time at the lighthouse upkeeping it and doing some side business with online entrepreneurship. She only knew the kids from the park in passing until this year as well. They all went to the local schools and had average hobbies, no big deal. When Que decided it was a safe enough time to grow into the community a little, new challenges presented themselves.
Hacking in computer files and creating fake personas was the easy part. Keeping up the appearance of actually living with a family could be challenging.
Her story was not very inventive and anyone who might have taken a closer look would have definitely raised an eyebrow. She told everyone her parents were not much for going out, and they homeschooled her. When people came by, it was easy to pretend they were working on the beacon.
"It takes a lot to keep this old thing up and running you know." she'd say. Now most of the town was to busy to ask or did not bother to look any further, which was fine for Que. She'd been alone for a long time now and that was how it needed to stay, especially with her sudden power surges.
Her powers had a couple of flare ups that week, but nothing like the streak she'd sent rocketing into the sky or the tremors. The occasional sparks, gusty gales, and a bit heavier nearby surf were nothing too major, even if it was a nuisance. Yet, she knew another build up was coming.
Que and a few of the town youths, got together one afternoon to help repaint one of the local grocery stores that had lost a wall during the storm. The outside was to be a pale yellow with bold, blue lettering for the name, "Sam's Corner!"
Que was late and having a good bit of trouble with her energy regulation. That morning, she accidentally overpowered one of the light house generators and was caught in a constant breeze wherever she went.
She hoped painting would help take the edge off and calm her nerves.
She was right for a while. Her sudden gales settle down into a gentle breeze, and she hadn't had any sparks. It also didn't hurt that the majority of the paint brush handle was wooden.
Before long, the sun was beating down bright and fierce. The group was just finishing up the final touches to the navy word border when a black Mercedes Benz pulled up to the diner across the street. Out of the sedan came a young white haired woman and, with some assistance, a bald man in a wheelchair. Both were in business casual that of which might be seen in a school. They went into the dinner without a second glance from the group of motley teenagers covered in paint across the street. Only 5 minutes later, the group was finished and headed to the diner for an early dinner, courtesy of Sam himself.
The teens sat in the diner and were rather boisterous after their accomplishment. Que, Antonela, and three others sat at the countertop while Amy, Sean, and the rest of their fellow workers sat in booths adjacent to the kitchen. Only Que and a few others out of the dozen sat quietly, most of them from exhaustion. Que was contemplating how to fix the generator and failed to notice the slight breeze that had picked up in the diner. Outside, a breeze is quite normal. Inside, not so much. She didn't notice it until Sean unceremoniously hollered "Someone shut the back door! It's causing a draft."
He had just caught his napkins from flying off the table, and the kitchen staff ignored him. They were quite use to his antics. Que realized what was happening and attempted to smother the wind.
All the while at the other end of the diner, the middle aged, bald man and white haired woman sat talking quietly over coffee, waffles, and eggs. The bald man had taken notice of the slight breeze and comment by the boy. They seemed unperturbed by the rowdy bunch of youths and would have a front row seat to watch the next few events unfold.
Que was not being very successful at calming the winds, so she turned to Antonela, who was loudly reprimanding Sean in the neighboring booth.
"Hey Antonela, I'm feeling a little sunburned from today. I'm going to head out." Que said quietly. She attempted to slide inconspicuously out of her chair when Antonela turned quickly toward her.
"What?" she started to say but she knocked herself, Que, and a coffee cup onto the floor in the process. The coffee spilled and the glass mug shattered and slit a deep gash in Que's arm as they tumbled onto the floor.
As pain seared up Que's arm, the ground began to tremble and gale force winds erupted in the dinner. The lighting flicked and burst as electricity crackled above them. Drinks spilled, waffles flew, kids screamed and napkins sailed through the air. Sean was slapped in the face by an overturned plate of waffles. Cola spilled down another boy's shirt, and Amy was crying from being hit with some stray eggs and utensils. The dinner was in entire chaos.
The woman from across the diner jumped into action and ran over to the injured girl, trying to calm her. The woman wrapped the girl's jacket around the cut.
Still crouched on the ground, Que didn't know what to do. She could feel and somewhat hear the stranger near her, but she couldn't focus, couldn't think. Her veins pulsed with the energy around her. From the lights, the air, and even the people, the streams of energy assaulted her nervous system.
Then, suddenly there was a voice, but she couldn't identify the source.
"Its okay, calm your mind. Breath. Let Ororo help you. It will stop. Just calm your mind, and I can help you."
The voice was calm, gentle, and reassuring.
Que felt the tremors subside and the wind slow, but she was terrified. The diner was in shambles, and her companions faces were streaked with tears and filled with fear. Antonela lay motionless on the floor next to her. Was she okay?
What had Que done? She had ruined everything. Everyone would know. She pulled out of the women's grasp and raced out the door.