After a long shower, in part to clean the blood and viscera out of my hair I missed with my power, I throw a on a t-shirt and pants, then go down stairs with a towel around my head.
As I walk into the kitchen my brush levitates out of my rucksack along with the Wards paperwork, only for them to stop in midair as I notice just how white dad's knuckles are as he's reading my notebook.
"Dad? Dad!?"
Dad looks up with a startled expression on his face, "Taylor, I didn't hear you come in."
Softly I say, "Dad, did I do something wrong?"
Dad lays my notebook out and points at a section written in the sparkly purple pen that Madison stole in February. "Taylor, why didn't you tell me?"
I wince as I realize that I must have picked out my latest bullying journal when dad took my last notebook. I want to rail at him for looking at something private, but I gave him the notebook. I want to say that I didn't mean for him to look at that end, or I've got so used to just flipping my notebooks upside down and starting from the back I didn't think of it. I want to apologize for, something. Instead, I say, "I tried."
Those two words hang in the air for a long time until dad suddenly stands up and grabs his coat, before walking out of the door.
Listlessly I turn around and climb the stairs to my room, the paperwork, brush, and books bobbing along behind me.
I'm not sure how long I sit staring sightlessly at the Wards paperwork as I try to deal with the wrenching feeling inside me. After a while I unwrap my hair and start to brush it out while it's still damp.
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On Monday I wake up with the sun streaming through my window and Spike's butt in my face. As I smile, my face crinkles with dried salt from where I cried myself to sleep. Propping myself up I can see the end of a sausage underneath Spikes paws which causes me to chuckle as I turn over to get out of bed. That's when I freeze as I spot a plate of dinner on my desk, with one sausage missing, but a dead mouse lying there instead. Next to the plate is my notebook and the silverware I'd have needed to eat.
Honestly, I'm not sure how to feel about this, as first dad just, leaves. And then he does this? With a sigh I grab my clothes for the day and head to the bathroom to wash.
Apparently, I woke up before dad for once, as I hear the downstairs toilet flush while I'm brushing my teeth. As I'm pulling my panties on, I get that feeling like I forgot to wipe, so I grab some toilet paper and rewipe. Only to pause as the red smear on the paper catches my attention. Of course, it's 'early' I've spent almost two weeks elsewhere.
With a sigh, I reach up to get a pad out of the medicine cabinet, and a quick application of my cleaning power is enough to save me needing to chuck these panties in the wash. With my morning thoroughly ruined I head back into my bedroom, with my backpack coming upstairs to join me.
Just before I close my door Dad calls out, "Taylor, watch where you're swinging your bags! You almost brained me on the stairs."
I ignore him and instead leave the door open long enough to send the plate to the top of the stairs, mouse included. As dad's footsteps retreat down the stairs, I fish out the timetable we were given at the beginning of the school year. Using that as a guide I empty my backpack and pull the books I need from the small bookshelf that sits over my desk. Almost as an afterthought, I add my English textbooks to the bag, just in case I can't do my programming work.
With my school stuff packed, I head downstairs to get started on breakfast and an attempt to read another page of the Wards material. I know dad likes his French Toast, but I decide to go with a simple bacon, eggs and buttered toast.
A few minutes after I've started, dad comes down in his work clothes and pauses in the doorway as I glance at the bacon and the spatula tosses it on it's own.
Without looking up, much, from the page I'm trying to read, I pour some boiling water into a mug I already put dad's coffee and sugar into. Then I send the mug over to him with the handle easily grabbable.
As if that was a signal, dad walks over to the fridge for his milk and says, "What are you reading?"
I growl, "I'm trying to read the Wards documents, but it's like someone wrote them just to be as obtuse as possible."
Dad chuckles, "It's fairly standard legalese. You're just not used to reading it yet."
"I will read it."
"I'm sure you will, maybe start off with the promotional material first before reading through the employment contract."
I turn to face dad, "Wait, employment contract?"
Dad nods before looking at the stove. I quickly turn back to start plating up the bacon and eggs before the eggs go rubbery.
While I'm doing that dad says, "I read it over while I was on hold with the electricity company. It's a fairly standard contract as far as it goes, though it's deliberately couched in terms of providing a safe place for young parahumans to learn to control their powers. When you've looked over as many employment contracts I have you can spot the hallmarks fairly quickly. Things like anything you make on company time or with company resources belongs to the company. That's a fairly standard anti-moonlighting clause, though I had to look it up as labor contracts don't tend to have that particular clause. There's a bit about bringing the PRT into disrepute, and penalties for not turning up. Um, there's also a 3-month cooling off period if you ever want to quit. That's before we get into some of the stuff that was added because they're children, such as granting the PRT legal guardianship over the ward."
I look up from my breakfast in alarm, "Wait, really? They're allowed to do that?"
Dad nods, "They almost have to because it's illegal to employ children in the USA. All of the talk about pay is couched in terms of allowances and collage funds, and they also have an option to take responsibility for your education or to pay the parents a stipend to ensure they can afford to send them to school."
I think for a moment as I chew a couple of mouthfuls of food. Then I slowly ask, "Dad. Who would be signing that contract?"
Dad taps the pile of paper, "I would as your parent, and by doing so I would be signing some of my rights away at the same time. That's before you see the various permissions slips that parents are encouraged to sign."
I shake my head, "But isn't that just asking for trouble later on?"
Dad sighs, "Your mother never had good things to say about the government either. But don't borrow trouble where it isn't already there. Are you ready to go?"
I have a quick look around and grab my stick and backpack, "I'm ready."
Dad sighs as he looks at the stick, "Taylor, leave the stick at home. It won't fit in the car anyway."
Reluctantly, I lean the stick in the corner with the other stick I found. As I do, I rather belatedly remember the box with sewing stuff and make a quick detour to my rucksack to grab that and the tea towel.
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I wasn't sure what to expect with Home Instruction, but being shown into a small office on the 2nd floor that's only just large enough for a desk, chair, and a filing cabinet wasn't it. The walls of the room used to be painted in a pale blue color, however time has caused the paint to crack and fall off in places leaving small piles of paint across the desk and the top of the ancient 24" monitor that's sat on top of an equally ancient desktop computer that has a physical power switch you need to flip. It looks like there used to be a telephone in here given the trailing cable on the desk, but where it's gone is a mystery.
From outside the small office, dad has an apologetic note in his voice as he says, "I'm sorry about the state of the office, but it's actually one of the few that still has a desk in it. It used to be the Union Liaison office, back when we could afford to hire more than two people full time. Now that's Lacey's job as well as being the treasurer."
I turn around to look at dad and Lacey, a short stocky woman with a plain face and someone who's obviously used to helping out around the building. I seem to remember that she's Kurt's wife, one of dad's friends. "What do you mean?"
Lacey smiles sadly, "They used to work with the other Dockworkers unions around the country. Mainly Boston, back when we had enough work coming in to justify calling in extra help when we knew a particularly large shipment was coming in or going out. After work started to dry up here, they often arranged for our members to take work in Boston, Portland, and New York. Course, most of the people who could move have now moved, and we're left looking after the fishermen and the odd freight train that comes in from Bangor."
Dad nods seriously, "The only reason we still have that is because of Medhall. They finished upgrading the freight line between Bangor and Portland late last year, so even if the state government ever clears the channel, we're not going to get the mining freight back. Really, the only hope this city has left is for the Ferry to be reopened to allow people to actually get around the city and start putting the old warehouses to good use."
I sigh and interrupt before dad can get going about the ferry again, "I thought I'd be sitting near you, like I used to."
Dad glances at Lacey before looking back at me, "You're older now, and if this is going to go on long term you can't be in the same office as Lacey and I. We often need to talk about confidential things, and while we can pop out of the office for a couple of days, it's not something that we can afford to do long term."
Something must have shown on my face, as Lacey adds, "It also means that if you decide you want to have the radio on, it won't bother us as we're on the other side of the meeting room. Anyway Danny, you need to get down to the Job Hall, I'll finish getting Taylor set up here."
As dad walks off, I turn back to the room with a frown, while behind me Lacey asks, "Do you want me to show you where the break room and kitchen are?"
I shake my head, "I think I remember. Do you know where I can find a dustpan and brush?"
"We should probably do that once your dad gets back, as it's in a cupboard downstairs, and it's going to be a little loud down there for the next hour or so."
I turn around and look at Lacey, "Why?"
Lacey pensively looks towards the stairs, "Not enough work, and your dad is the one that has to tell everyone that after the jobs that he has been able to find are gone. We sort of become the general union for people who don't qualify for LIUNA, but even with that there's not enough building work in Brockton Bay to satisfy our membership. Come on, let's get a cup of coffee and you can tell me why you're here rather than at school, and what's going on in your life."
As I follow Lacey out to the kitchen I say, "Um, somethings have come up that mean that school isn't exactly safe for me any more."
Lacey pauses to pat me on the shoulder, "Have they threatened to dump you again? That was terrible business, and I'm glad that it was a good person that found you."
I shrug, after all, how do you tell someone that you survived Lung and escaped, and now he's probably got gang members keeping half an eye out for you. Oh, and you're a cape that can't hide their powers yet, so you only need to screw up once and everyone at school will know, including the ABB members that go there. Instead, I nod and say, "Something like that, yes."
Lacey just looks at me oddly before shaking her head and emptying out the old filter for a drip coffee machine and setting up the machine for a new batch of coffee.
While the coffee's brewing, Lacey opens a cupboard under one of the counters, "This is where we keep all of the cleaning supplies for the kitchen. If you spill something please clean up after yourself as we do occasionally host people for contract negotiations, and the space is also open to Union members if they need to talk to Danny or I. The next cupboard over has plates, while the cupboards above the counter have mugs and glasses. If you put something in the fridge, make sure you label it, otherwise it will be treated as general use at some point as people occasionally bring in leftovers or bulk dishes to share with those who can't afford to eat..."
I nod, as it explains why dad sometimes cooks far more than we could eat, and then brings in the rest for 'lunch'. Once I've built my house, maybe I could buy some chickens and see how they do… My train of thought cuts off as Lacey stops talking. Slowly I turn my head to see where she's looking, only to spot my notebook and pen hovering in the air beside my head.
A moment later, Lacey breathes out heavily before saying, "Well, that explains a lot. I'll dig out the key to the door on your room, as I'd imagine you'll be valuing your privacy."
Mutely I nod and shrink down on myself. How could I out myself like this?
Lacey continues relentlessly, "I think we might have a spare working phone downstairs. Once Danny's done with stuff I'll head down there and grab the hoover and phone. That way we can call you if there's anyone in the common room, not that you should have a problem with any of the union guys, as you're Danny's girl. But money makes fools of all of us."
I can only stare at Lacey as she just accepts that I'm a cape. "But why?"
Lacey turns around and leans against the counter as the coffee machine starts to boil. "Taylor, you need to understand that you're not the first girl that's been caught in a bad situation and ended up a cape. We never know details, but you always hear about it in a tight nit community like this one. A friend of a friend's child gained powers."
I look down at my hands, "But what about all the statistics on how long capes survive?"
Lacey takes my hand, "Taylor, you're only a cape if you want to be. From rumors, it's a little worse in the north than it is in south, but we're also more crowded up here. Now, how did you get around the home-schooling restrictions, as Danny was absolutely frantic to get you away from the school back in January."
My mouth drops open, "But he never said anything."
Lacey sighs, "Forget I said anything then. I'd still like to know so I can pass it around."
"Lacey, what did you mean?"
Lacey looks at my eyes for a moment, "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
I shake my head, and she sighs, "Taylor, everyone is shaped by their family as they're growing up. Sometimes they develop boneheaded ideas that they won't let go and it affects their adult relationships. Now that's all I'm going to say on the matter."
I look mulishly at the wall for a couple of seconds until Lacey calmly turns around and begins pouring herself a cup of coffee. As she walks over to the fridge I say, "A Librarian helped me. They told me to look up Home Instruction, and where."
Lacey turns back with the milk, "Thank you, now do you take milk or cream?"
"Um, cream please."
Lacey nods and shakes the milk carton, "I'll pick up some cream when I restock the milk later." She chuckles as I make a face, "Don't worry, it will be before lunch."
I sigh, "I don't suppose there's any tea here?"
"Nope, no kettle either, so you'd need to use the microwave if you bring in your own tea."
I sign dramatically and pour myself a coffee and use half of the remaining milk.
Coffee in hand, I return to my little office and unplug the computer from the wall and turn the light off at the wall. Now sure that it should be safe from my power, I focus on my repairing power and all the little flakes of paint.
As it starts to work, and all the little flecks of paint seem to jump off of the desk and carpet back onto the wall, I smile. Then I watch curiously as the holes that weren't filled in, start to close over as the paint around them seems to run into the gaps. After a few seconds the entire room looks as though it was painted only a few months ago.
I then use my cleaning power on the entire room, and the faint yellow stains disappear from the walls and ceiling, and the desk lightens in color until I can see the wood grain.
With that done, I turn the light back on and take a seat in the now pristine leather chair. After plugging the computer in and switching it on, I pull out my World History textbook and start to go through last Friday's section again.
A short while later Lacey opens the door to my room and pauses for a moment. "Right, I suppose you didn't actually need this then. I'll tell your dad to grab a can of paint from the stores when he goes to city hall later."
I spin my chair around to look at Lacey, "City Hall?"
Lacey nods, "Despite his grouching about the local government, they're the largest source of work for our people. What with all the cape fights and potholes that need to be repaired. Every Monday he heads over there to try and get places on the work gangs before the Prison does. It helps that Castro used to be a union man himself before he went into local government. Anyway, let me know when you're ready to take a break, and I'll take the vacuum cleaner downstairs again."
I nod and smile, "Will do. Thanks for grabbing it for me."
As the door closes behind her, I turn back to my work with a smile.
