5.
Taylor fiddled with the picture held in her hands. She'd worked on it for a long time, trying to perfect the image of her family in space. In the drawing, she was the one piloting the Mirage, with her mom and dad watching her. The background she'd colored black – the stars were done with white glitter. There was a big blue splat of paint in the middle, indicating a planet.
It was parents' day in kindergarten today, and her nemesis, David, was currently showing off his PRT-officer father. Taylor wasn't paying much attention, really – while his father sounded and looked interesting, she wouldn't give David the satisfaction of her interest. Besides, she had a more interesting parent.
Said parent was sitting on the beanbags in the back of the room with other mothers and fathers, discussing their children, the weather, and the current gang situation in the city. Taylor herself was sitting in the front with Ellie and Ellie's new friend, Emma. She didn't know Emma very well, her having just moved to Taylor's kindergarten group, but she seemed nice.
"Very interesting stuff!" said the teacher to David's father, who returned the compliment with a smile and a lazy salute. "A round of applause for both men!"
A round of applause followed, David puffing up at a mention of him being a man. Taylor scoffed. He was a baby at most, in her opinion. When the two passed Taylor, they glared at each other, eyes narrowed.
"Poop-head," he whispered.
"Dumb-butt," she replied back.
Taylor turned her head away from the boy, arms crossed in annoyance. It seemed like he just couldn't leave her alone. Her friend soon poked her shoulder, a concerned frown on her face.
"Don't worry 'bout 'im," said Ellie, pulling her in a one-armed squeeze. "He's stupid."
"And mean!" Emma piped up. They shared a comforting group hug.
The teacher searched the room with her gaze, looking at the gaggle of children. "Who'd like to go next? Would you like to introduce your mom to us, Taylor?" she asked, eying Taylor's small group.
"Okay!" answered the little girl, jumping up to her feet and running to the back of the room. She pulled Annette away from her discussion, and the two walked to the front of the classroom hand in hand. Taylor felt a bit nervous, but her mother reassuring presence helped her be calm.
She looked at her, who smiled at her, head slightly tilted. The teacher looked at her kindly, her hand moving in a 'go ahead' gesture. Taylor cleared her throat, like she'd seen adults do, and lifted the picture she'd drawn for everyone to see.
"This is a picture of me, mom, and dad in space. We're inside Mirage, our spaceship," started Taylor, showing the drawing around. She could feel a bit of bemusement from her audience and slight exasperation from the teacher. "Usually mom pilots, 'cause Dad and me can't, but I'm gonna learn one day, and-"
"While I do like your stories, Taylor," interrupted the teacher with a kind tone. "Maybe you should tell us about Annette, not outer space."
"I was gonna get to it," mumbled Taylor, blushing. David and his friends were snickering. Her mom put her arm on her shoulder, and smiled down at her. I can do the rest, if you wish, she heard in her mind. Taylor shook her head. She could do the start – she wasn't going to just let her mom do all the work.
"My mom is the best mom ever," she started. "She's cool and smart, and knows lots of languages. She's never scared and always knows what to do. She's can fly a spaceship, fix anythin' – she's the best!"
Taylor glanced at her mother, beaming at her. "When I grow up, I'll be just like her!"
Annette took a step forward, taking hold of Taylor's hand. "If you younglings want to know, I work as a repairs mechanic nowadays – when I'm not flying my spaceship, of course," she said, a twinkle in her eye. "It's nice work to do. If you'd like to ask anything of me, please, go ahead."
"Do you really go to space?" someone asked. "Isn't she lying?"
"I think," started Annette, looking at the audience. "That you would do well to realize that improbable events are not impossible. What others think of as lies, others think of it as truth. Dismiss nothing, and you may find some impossibilities yourself."
The boy who had asked the question fidgeted. "Err… was that a yes or no?"
Annette sighed. "No, my daughter isn't lying."
The classroom erupted in questions.
Twenty minutes or so later Annette sat down, joining the other parents once more. They smiled at her and one joked about visiting the moon of Terra. Nobody seemed to have taken her stories of the galaxies very seriously, and from what Annette felt they had been mostly amused.
Terran people had beings with immense power in their hands, capable of bending the Force to their will, and for some reason the concept of space travel and other sentients was nearly unbelievable for them. It was absurd – when she'd arrived on this forsaken planet, she'd taken every precaution, every security. She'd lived in secrecy, using the barest amount of the Force, hiding from the authorities, and avoided contact with - well, everything.
Now? She'd just told multiple sentients that she regularly visited other systems and was from another planet, and nobody batted an eye. From she could gather, most thought that Annette merely indulged her little owl's 'fantasies'. A couple thought of her a bit dim, but most felt amused.
She wasn't complaining. The Empire couldn't reach this planet, or didn't consider it worthy to do so, but that didn't mean that she'd want to flaunt her presence in this system. She was, after all, hiding.
Annette didn't want to stay hidden for all her years, though. One day, maybe when little Taylor has grown older, she'd go back to her home galaxy. She was a Jedi – a protector of peace, the helper of the needy, and she would not stand and watch the Sith ravage the homes of many. While the Jedi as an Order did not exist anymore, she did, and Annette was sure that she was not the only one. There had been many more talented Knights and Masters who could've survived.
But she'd have to wait. Taylor, while an unplanned child, was still wanted, and Annette would give her child all the guidance she could. It was duty as a Force wielder to another, as a teacher to a student, and as a- a mother to her child.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Hebert?" said the kindergarten teacher, interrupting her line of thought. "Could we have a word in private?"
"Of course," she answered, getting slightly annoyed. No doubt this was about Taylor's 'wild imagination'.
The two went outside the classroom, Annette nodding at her fellow parents, who were now blathering on about taxes. While she considered herself a person with good resilience, she couldn't be anything but glad to leave the inane discussion.
Danny took care of the taxes, and she was fine with that.
"So," said the teacher, closing the door and pulling out two chairs for them to sit on. "You must know what I want talk about."
"Taylor, I presume," answered Annette, sitting down on the offered stool.
"Yeah," started the teacher. "I want to start off saying that there is nothing wrong with playing along in children's games or actions. I do that with my kids all the time."
The teacher shifted uncomfortably. "But Taylor… Taylor has been talking about these spaceships and aliens for all the years she has been here. Usually kids have a certain game or thing they do, but not for that long."
"Mm." A noncommittal answer, an invitation to continue.
"And there are certain realities everyone has to learn at some point," said the teacher before rushing to continue. "Not now, of course! She's still five, yes, but – don't you think this has gone on a bit too long? I don't really think you should encourage her imaginations so openly. It can't be good for her, developmentally."
Annette was silent for a moment. "Have you ever considered that she was telling the truth?"
The teacher let out a short laugh. "Yes, I have. But there have never been such things as extraterrestrial beings, and besides, your family is too human to be alien. If anything, you could be some sort of parahuman and little Taylor is rationalizing this with her space stories." A moment later she continued a bit more hesitantly: "You- you aren't some villain, are you?"
"Of course not," replied Annette, rolling her eyes.
"Of course," said the teacher, wiping her brow with a slightly forced smile. "So I have to ask – could you talk to Taylor about what is true, and what is not? It would be good for all of us, child or adult."
Annette sighed. "I'll do that."
"Good. Great!" Taylor's teacher answered, rising up. Annette rose with her, going to the classroom door, slightly opening it. "It's good for your child to understand that her mother doesn't own a spaceship."
"You misunderstand. She's spoken only the truth." said Annette. The teacher raised an eyebrow. She in turn raised her arm, and let the Force flow through her. "You find nothing odd about Taylor's infatuation with space."
Her target blinked twice, before repeating her words. "I find nothing odd about her infatuation with space."
A smile crept on Annette's face. "Good that we could agree on that. Should we go back in and enjoy the other performances?"
The teacher shook her head, obviously very confused. "Uh, yeah. We should- yes. Let's go back."
The door opened and closed, and Annette was just in time to see a son-father pair enter the front of the classroom, the son holding up a firefighter's helmet. Taylor noticed her coming in and beamed, waving at her. Annette smiled back. She'd have to have a talk of secrecy with her little owl, unfortunately.
-o-