PART 8 (continued): as told by Massie
A familiar scent greeted us when we materialized. Lavender—the scent of my home. We were standing, the three of us, in my pristine, immaculate bedroom. So much I wanted to collapse onto my bed with the teddy bear that lay there presently, crying and crying and praying to god Dempsey and Derrick could triumph over the adversaries the founders had sent their way in the shape of a bearded man.
"Massie?" Landon touched my shoulder, tentatively. "Don't be freaked out. They're strong. They can beat him."
"Yeah," I whispered, then took a deep breath and straightened, glancing around. "I really hope my parents aren't home."
We wandered through the hallways of the second floor, checking rooms. The house was empty. I was relieved and dismayed at the same time. I hadn't seen my parents in three months, and a reassuring hug courtesy of my mother couldn't hurt, even though I would have to explain quite a lot. I wondered silently if Jose was here, or around here. Jose was my aunt, a truly evil woman who lived in the notorious Foster City with her husband; a politician who attained votes from bitter Foster City citizens only because his campaign promoted the abolishment of supers. When I had discovered my ability, I wasn't hesitant to share it with my parents. They weren't particularly happy, but they didn't reject me like many families did. Then Jose had come to stay, after her husband traveled to Europe to promote his anti-super campaigns. She detested me. She called me horrible names, and told me I wasn't supposed to exist. She struck me, once, when my parents weren't home. She truly loathed me, and I returned the resentment happily. Jose stayed right until my departure, about a year after the discovery. When I returned for thanksgiving and Christmas and summer, and the odd weekend, Jose was always there, staring at me from across the room with those cold, beady eyes.
"How's the freak school treating you, Macy?" (She purposefully mispronounced my name) she would ask indignantly, whenever we were alone together. She would concentrate on the hideous scarf she was currently knitting then glance up and add, "You should come to Foster City with me, see how people think of you there." Then she would laugh.
I was nearly seething at the recollections as we stepped into the kitchen. All was empty and quiet.
"Can we eat?" Landon asked softly. It was funny how a near death experience had suddenly smoothed the uneven grounds below us.
"Of course," I answered automatically.
Claire and Landon raided the cupboards while I stared out the window at the courtyard contemplatively. I was only a teleporter, but some additional sense told me we weren't alone.
"Guys, hurry," I said. I found my mother's car keys easily and stuffed them into my pocket. "Pack some food and I'll go find some clothes for us upstairs. We're not safe here."
It takes a really strong unpleasant aura to make someone say that about their own home. But I felt vulnerable here.
Just as I hurried down the stairs with a duffel bag stuffed with essentials, I heard a car pull into the driveway. My heart skipped a beat.
"Out the back door," I ordered urgently, pushing them along. We slipped out hurried along the side of the house.
"It wasn't all bad," I heard my mother said, and I felt a sting in my eyes. I so much wanted to run out to embrace her. But the second voice discouraged me completely.
"I tell you Mary-Anne, any theatre production that thinks nudity is alright cannot be deemed theatre." Aunt Jose. Bitter as usual, and hateful.
I peered out from behind the wall. My mother was helping Jose climb the steps. I wanted to laugh. Jose was older than I remembered. She was only in her late fifties, but she wasn't exactly in good shape.
"That's Jose, I bet," Landon whispered behind me.
I told Landon about Jose back when we were good friends, dating, whatever the proper title would be for our messy relationship.
"Yes," I whispered.
My mother and Jose had taken the convertible, and the car keys to the pick up truck, which my family seldom used, were sweaty in my palm.
The door closed.
We made a mad dash for the pick up truck.
Landon and Claire threw their bags into the back and followed quickly. I stepped into the driver's seat and willed myself to remember those few optional driving lessons I'd taken back at the school.
I jammed the key into the ignition and the truck roared to life. "Shut up!" I hissed at it uselessly. I jerked the car into reverse.
Then my mother appeared in the doorway, flanked by Jose. First, she seemed angry and afraid. When she registered who was driving, she became desperate and sad, and flung herself from the doorway towards the car.
Jose squinted at me, shaking her head slowly.
"Massie! Massie!" My mother shouted, cringing as she made her way across the gravel driveway in bare feet. "Massie, stop! Come home!"
I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted salt in my mouth. "Mom," I called out to her, as the window slid down. "I can't. Were in trouble. We'll return the car, don't worry."
"I don't care about the car!" She protested, and then she was crying too. "Come back, Massie! Please!"
Claire and Landon were silent behind me.
"Mom…" I said, and I knew I had to go. I pulled out of the driveway, just as she reached us. I pushed the car into drive, willing the tears to stop before I was temporarily blinded and unable to drive.
"Massie!" she said one last time, desperately when she realized that I wasn't staying.
I didn't want to look at her dejected form in the rear view mirror. And I certainly didn't want to catch Landon's or Claire's sympathetic eyes while doing so.
It was done. I'd successfully broken her heart—and stolen her car.
I couldn't have stayed though. There was too much at stake. And Jose was there. Dempsey and Derrick needed us. There wasn't time for tearful reunion, or explanations. If I succumbed to the comfort of my home I'd never be able to leave. And who knew if the founders would search my house before scouring the entire country?
"Massie," Landon said, very quietly. He sounded like a different person without the sarcastic, snide edge to his voice.
"Yes Landon?" I was having trouble suppressing the tears, but I managed an audible response.
"Thank you," he said.
I nodded. "Anytime," I whispered.
. . ….. . …. . .
REVIEW! I'm leaving my house for two whole months and will be living in the great Canadian wilderness, obviously without computer access, on Friday! So I only have a few days to wrap this up! Reviews are motivation!