First Mutant
By David D. Amaya
Chapter 7
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Apartment of Kordel Nichols, Wyoming Ave. Adams-Morgan, 2334 EST. Day 10
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"You know who this is, Dr. Xavier?"
"Yes, Agent Nichols," began the Professor. "In truth, young Mr. Parkman was the reason I called you earlier this evening, but I am rather surprised to speak with him at your home."
"Well, Doc," said Cyrus. "I just told Lariat, um, I mean Agent Nichols, a few days ago. He was trying to help me learn to control this mutant-stuff, so he snuck me out of the White House for a few hours so I can blow stuff up."
"I see," The professor replied. "What would you say is the extent of your control over your mutant gifts, Cyrus?"
"Well, when I concentrate I can make it happen and we're both still alive, for now."
"What would you say if I could assist you in that regard? I have a student who shares your unique ability. I could send Agent Nichols information to assist you in better controlling your gifts."
"That'll be great!"
A loud beeping noise interrupted their conversation.
"Dr. Xavier, I am sorry to interrupt, but I need to return Cyrus to the White House," Kordel explained. "I must get him home before anyone finds out that I took him off federally secured grounds. I shall attempt to find a way for you to speak with him at a more convenient time."
"Of course, Agent Nichols. Do what you must. Good night, Cyrus, It was a pleasure to speak with you."
"Same here, Doc, good night," Cyrus said as he disconnected the call.
"Come on, Lariat, we gotta boogie."
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Passageway under the White House, 2358 EST.
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In a sight, straight out of a Tom Clancy novel, or any number of movies about the Capital City, two figures race in fear through the corridors of water pipes, electrical conduits and natural gas lines that connect many of Washington's landmarks and government buildings.
But unlike the movies, or print, this pair doesn't run in fear of being shot for their knowledge of a governmental conspiracy.
They run with the fear of a 12-year-old up WAY past his bedtime.
"Here's the door, Cyrus," said Kordel.
"Good, I'm beat," said the President's son as he reached for the secret panel behind his bookcase.
"Shh," said Kordel. "Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"Cyrus? Are you in there? All right Agent Carr. Open that door."
"Damn, it's Ziegler!"
"Quick, Cyrus! duck under the bed!"
As the door opened, Cyrus crawled out from rumpled sheets and bedspreads on the floor. The President's son was sweating profusely and his chest was heaving like he was running.
"Cyrus, are you all right?" asked Agent Ziegler.
"Yea, I'm fine," he said between breaths. "I guess it was just a nightmare."
"Cyrus, why are you sweating?"
"I was dreaming that every senator on Capitol Hill was a rat and I was a piece of cheese. Then they all started to chase me like the pied piper."
"All right, Cyrus, try to get some sleep," Ziegler said as he shut the door.
"Okay, Lariat, Z-Man hit the skids."
"Good," Nichols said as opened the secret panel. "Try to get some sleep. Good night, Cyrus."
"Night, Lariat. Oh, by the way, thanks for tonight. Oz was right, it feels like a ton of bricks lifted off my neck. I'm glad I told you that I was a big bad mutant."
"I was glad to help, Cyrus. And I feel the same way, I am glad I told you that I am a wealthy miser. Good night 'Pauper.'"
"Night, 'Preppie.'"
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Sidwell lunch Hour, 1204 EST. Day 15
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"Forget the apple, Cyrus. Just grab a sandwich and let us depart," said Kordel. "We are dining al fresco again."
"What's the rush, Lariat?" Cyrus asked.
A cell phone in Agent Nichols pocket began to ring.
"Here, Cyrus," said Kordel taking his tray and handing the President's son the phone. "It is for you."
Cyrus took the cell phone and answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Cyrus, it's Jean."
"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Summers. How's things in New York?"
"Fine, I hope you are having a good day at school."
"Sure, it's okay, for school I mean. What did you want to talk about, Jean?"
"I was wondering if those techniques I have been sending Agent Nichols have been working for you?"
"Yea, they help a lot. I have better control over it in the past few days and I can even make it go away just like you said."
"I'm glad to hear it, Cyrus, We're all proud of your progress here at Xavier's."
"Thanks, Jean! Oh and can you thank that Reggie dude for the deck of cards, he was right about them being easier to throw, but could you ask him not to write notes in French, I had to ask Lariat to read 'em to me!"
"His name is Remy, he's Cajun."
"That's cool, but I'm taking Japanese here, but that's only 'cause I can speak it already! Are you going to come here for the hearings, Jean?"
"Yes, my husband and I will make the trip as part of Professor Xavier's staff."
"I hope to meet you in person when you get here. Maybe I can talk Nichols into sneaking out for a sit down. I'll bring the coffee. They serve Jamaican Blue Mountain here, it's pretty good stuff."
"'Sneaking out for a sit down?'" Jean repeated. "Cyrus, you do intend to go through with it don't you?"
"Aw man, not this again! Shoot, I'da know, Jean. Do you have any idea how hard it is, waiting 'til Monday for my folks to get back in town just so I can drop a bombshell on 'em? I mean it's not like I got polka-doted skin or turn into oatmeal at night. If I can keep three phone calls a day and a trip to the shooting range from 'em, I can hide this a little while longer. You know like until Andi gets married, has a couple kids."
"That's only if you are comfortable in hiding the truth to the ones you love, kiddo."
"Are you kiddin'!? The last person to tell the truth in DWEEB-vill was MLK and that was when 'back-in-the-day' was still 'Film at 11!'"
Jean chuckled at the young mutant's smart-alack retort. "We discussed this Cyrus. You know it's the right decision telling your parents. They'll understand. I know it in my heart."
"I guess you're right, Jean. Well, if the shock to my parents wears off quickly, and if I'm not grounded forever, maybe I can get you guys an access pass and talk to 'em about getting this under control."
"That'll be good, I look forward to meeting with you, Cyrus."
"Let me speak with her for a moment, Cyrus." Kordel asked.
"Sure thing. Jean, Lariat, would like a few words with you," he then handed him his phone as he took back his lunch.
"Mrs. Summers?"
"Yes, Agent Nichols?"
"I was hoping you could relay a message to Charles, for me. Please tell him I will be flying out to HPN-White Plains on Sunday night and will meet him Monday morning, to discuss arrangements for your trip to Washington."
"I'll give him the message, Agent Nichols. We'll be looking forward to meeting with you."
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Cyrus Parkman's room, The White House 1721 EST. Day 17
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"So, how long ya gonna be gone, Lariat?" asked Cyrus after watching the end of the Mariners game on ESPN.
"Just a few days, Cyrus. I will be in New York to coordinate security for Dr. Xavier when he comes to testify before the Senate Subcommittee. Agent Williams will take over for me until then."
"I still don't know, Lariat. I don't think I can do this."
"Yes you can, Cyrus. They will be back from Charlotte by the time you get home from school tomorrow. Your parents love you. They will understand."
"Jean's been feedin' me that same line. I wish I had a wingman here to help me break it to the folks, Lariat."
"I as well, but you will be all right, Cyrus."
"But I still don't know what I'm gonna say. Jean suggested I write it down and act it out in my head, but it's not making it easier. This migraine hadn't gone away since Tuesday. When they call I feel like I'm gonna hurl. You know this isn't just another thing that just pops up at the dinner table, Lariat! 'Hi First Mom, President Dad!" he tells imaginary parents. "Had a great time while you were gone, by the way I'm a mutant and I blow stuff up. Could you pass the peas?' Aw, man, I think I'm gonna hurl again! I'm still a bundle a nerves and they ain't even here!"
"Here, Cyrus, let me give you something that will help you shake the jitters."
Kordel loosened his tie and unfastened a necklace from around his neck and placed it on Cyrus, A platinum chain with a lasso pendant.
"Charlie gave this to me right after he took a bullet for me while on an assignment in Southern Texas. He said it brought good luck to everyone who ever wore it."
"Does it work?"
"Meeting you is more than enough proof of that. I have to take my leave, my taxi will pick me shortly. Have a good night, Cyrus."
"C-ya, Lariat."
End of Chapter seven
© David D. Amaya 2007