The Misbegotten

Hours later, Flavia and Johan had picked up Martín at school and all three walked the remainder of the way home. After, they had eaten some of the leftovers of the huge brunch I had made earlier in the day, the doorbell rang.

My spry step-sister jumped to her feet to answer it. Her movement was quicker than usual. So, I knew she’d invited some of her friends over.

Not that this was an issue. I didn’t care. If I had, what was I about to say? Nothing. I was sitting on the large couch in the T.V. room with two sets of girls to either side of me.

We were watching some documentary about the marvels of Dams, of all things. I had Ramona’s legs draped across my lap, Katie’s head resting on my shoulder opposite Ramona. Leda was filing her nails beyond my girlfriend. Sandy, sitting next to my cousin, played with a lock of her hair, her eyes locked onto the huge LCD before us.

To a one, they relaxed, were themselves, at home and so was I. It felt normal, though the four of us had never sat together to watch TV. It felt like we’d been doing it for years.

I was more than content, being around so many beautiful women. Each of them was vastly different than the next, but each of them was stunning, arresting. In my mind’s eyes, they were a diamond, a sapphire, an emerald and a ruby lined up, side-by-side. They were a marvelous display. With such a wide array of personality and intellect, in truth, I could think of nothing else, but them. I sat there surrounded by female flesh, femininity. My mind wasn’t wondering. I was in the moment. I was there, present – young and alive – sure it was where I needed to be, the exact spot.

“Hey Eff,” said Flavia breaking me from my dreamy thoughts.

I glanced toward the sound of her voice, indicating I was listening with a jut of my chin.

“This is Jolene, one of my friends; she came over to hang out, ok?”

Though my step-sister was just a year younger than me, it had become a forgone conclusion for some years now when our parents were out of the house, I was in charge. I was responsible for everyone. This wasn’t a big deal, because all my younger siblings were good kids in a relative sense, which meant they were easy to look after.

Plus, I wasn’t about to be a dick either. Not with all the girls over. Not after what we had gone through earlier than morning. No way.

“Cool,” I said back to my sister, waved and dipped my head in the direction of the girl.

She waved back at the group of us. Her eyes darted over me and the sheer amount of girlish bodies resting about my person. I assumed it was mild surprise in her expression. After all it wasn’t every day one saw one dude in the middle of four teenage girls.

She was pretty, Jolene. She had dark brown hair cut just passed her ears, curled into a more timid version of a bob. She had dark, wide spaced eyes and sculpted eyebrows. This gave the impression she spent hours making them symmetrical. They were as close to perfect as perfection itself. She had prominent cheeks dominating her face every time she smiled. Her narrow nose ended in a cute button, but it was her thin lips - even all these years later – that resonate in my memory. They were the reddest I have ever seen, natural, blood-like.

She stood about the same height as Flavia – five-foot-two – had larger breasts with hips already ripening to maturity. She wore bright blue Capri pants, a white t-shirt with blue lettering stating something trendy. A pair of white flats covered her feet.

Johan walked into the T.V. room from the door opposite the one the two teen girls had entered. His eyes darted over to Jolene and immediately his entire demeanor changed. He went from his usual half-arrogant saunter, to some slack-shouldered geek in the matter of seconds.

What the fuck is this? I remember thinking as Jolene’s face lit up like fireworks. I swore I saw a sheepish smirk play along the lines of my brother’s mouth. I sent a pair of raised eyebrows in Flavia’s direction.

To which, she replied, by rolling her orbs in disgust as if she were beyond weary of the situation. “Come on, Jol, let’s go to my room,” she suggested with a beckoning gesture.

“I think Johan has a kissing friend,” whispered Katie in my ear.

I nodded, involuntary. I couldn’t get my head around my fourteen-year-old brother capturing the attention of a girl two years his senior. I should’ve known I wasn’t the only one who was good with the girls. It’s in the blood!

“Can Johan come too?” asked Jolene in a voice that didn’t sound quite her own. She seemed to catch herself and she swallowed with haste, clearing her throat. “I mean to hang out too, you know,” she added with a hand coming to rest between her neck and chest.

Must’ve been one hell of a make-out session, I thought.

By then, we could not look away from the scene unfolding before us. It was riveting.

Flavia’s threw up her arms in supplication, spun on a heel and walked out. “Well, come on you guys,” she called from the stairs.

Johan walked up to Jolene and whispered a soft “hello” that none of us can hear, but we could make it out by the way his lips moved.

Jolene just smiled as she turned, graceful, to follow my step-sister though her eyes never left Johan’s. Together they walked from the room, a numb silence in their wake.

“Oh shit, Eff, your brother’s got game too,” bubbled Ramona, at my side. She made the couch bounce as she giggled deep her throat, smiling so wide her entire face bunched up. Her eyes were mere slits, which I doubted she could see through.

“I swear I could see that girls toes curling in her shoes,” muttered Leda, out of the corner of her mouth. Again, she let her tiresome, sour veneer drop and laughed just as throatily as my girlfriend.

Sandy edged to the end of couch, “one-bunning it” as my mother was fond of saying. “I would say that was at least a second-base reaction right there.” She was smiling like the others.

“Could even be third…,” peppered Katie. Her eyes still gazed upon the landing where three others had vanished from sight.

That made Ramona laugh even harder. “Man-o-man, Johan got some titties!” she wheezed. She was chortling too much to do much else, which made all the girls explode with laughter.

I just sat there, unsure if I was happy for Johan or if I was sad that my little brother was growing up. I mean, he had always been at my heels, following me, asking questions, my constant companion. This was before my mother had married my step-father. By then, our house was full with people again. In less than a minute, he had gone from that little boy, that curious, happy little boy to something else, something more akin to me. Had he sucked on that girl’s tits? Had he felt her up, put his hand atop the mound of her pussy or cupped her ass? Was it possible that he would know what to do? Would he know the right time to do it?

I look back and I can see just how naive I was at times. When it came to those around me I grew dense, especially when it came to members of my family. Of course, he knew what to do and when to do it just as I had when I was his age. What the fuck was I thinking? I lost my virginity when I was twelve. True, she was older than me, and true, I hadn’t known what the fuck I was doing, but I had inklings. Even back then, when it took only seven or eight pumps into a girl before I blew my load, I had an idea. Unpracticed novice or not, why wouldn’t Johan know? Why was I so special? I wasn’t. Johan was my brother and that should’ve been enough to explain it.

“You ok, Effy?” asked Katie with a grin still plastered to her face.

I must’ve looked at her like an idiot, because her smile froze in place for a moment.

She read me and her levity returned - full force. “Ha-ha! Jeez, Effy, what did you think, that you’d be the only one to get a crack at some pussy?”

“I-I just hadn’t thought about… Johan,” I stammered, not sure what else to say.

“We all grow up, babe,” said Ramona like a Greek sage, still bouncing here and there with laughter. She wiped at her eyes, so her mascara wouldn’t run.

“Yeah, I know, but still. It was kinda weird to see in person, you know.”

“You think he might have a ‘power’ similar to Estefan’s?” asked Leda. The thought had just occurred to her and the notion scared her. That much was obvious.

“Naw,” replied Ramona at once, making us all gaze in her direction. She looked from one set of eyes to another. “He’s different.”

“Has he got sick yet?” asked Sandy, looking from me to Kati. Since we were family, we had been with him the most over the last few days.

“Not that I know of,” I answered with a shrug off my shoulders.

Katie shook her head in the negative, but stayed silent.

A thought occurred to me and I turned to Ramona. “Will he get sick though?”

She nodded, but there was little pause between the end of my question and the movement of her head.

She had known for some time, came the thought, which invoked a deeper version of the same line of thought. “How many of us will get sick do you think?”

She tilted her head to the side, studying something etched on the inside of her skull. A vague smile etched her lips for a moment or two. This was a thing she always did when someone had asked something serious of her and put her on the spot.

A heartbeat later, she was downtrodden. “Every one of us, in this house right now, who hasn’t been sick yet, will be within the next few days.”

My eyes bulged at that, because I hadn’t expected her answer to include such a wide swath of my family and friends. Jesus Christ every fucking one of us!?!

“We’re becoming Mutos, huh?” asked Leda, her tone quiet from the other side of Ramona.

“Yes,” was all Ramona said.

“Which means… sooner or later, someone’s gonna snitch on us. And then the NIA Special Division will come for us,” added Katie as a matter of fact, devoid of emotion. “There’s no telling what they’ll do, you know. Everyone that gets corralled by those bastards disappears permanently. I’ve never heard of them releasing someone once they’re incarcerated.”

“What’da’ya think they’ll do to us?” wondered Sandy aloud. It was more to herself than any of us, but it was open speculation all the same.

“Nothing good, Sandra,” began Leda. Her eyes were direct, hard about the edges. “What would you do if you were a member of an all-powerful government organization with a Muto teenager in your grasp?” Every one of us looked her way. “They’d do their worst, that’s what they’d do.”

God that sounds horrid!

“You believe it is that bad?” Sandy always had an over-optimistic outlook on life. She just didn’t tend to see the worst of things, even when it was staring her straight in the face.

“Come on, girl, after experimenting on you in every possible way, don’t you think they’d turn to more basic methods of torture?” Leda could be callous at times - thick headed and callous, on the verge of being mean. “They’d be raping you every hour on the hour until you couldn’t take it no more and died of exhaustion before anything else.” She paused to shake her head. “Fuck, Sandy, why do you have to be so childish sometimes.”

Sandy was staring at her in abject horror. Her mouth was working, but no sound came forth for a few seconds. “They’d do that?” she choked.

“Come on, Leda, why do you have to act that way?” I demanded more than a little annoyed at the girl. After everything she had done earlier up in the Loft, she should’ve known better. You’d think she’d have garnered a shred of humility, but it seemed unlikely.

“What, Effy? Look at her, she freakin’ hot. What lame ass turnkey wouldn’t want his way with her,” was her justification for being rude.

“You’re hot too, Leda. Who wouldn’t want a crack at your ass?” I countered, deliberating looking her up and down.

She squirmed upon the couch. “Yeah, I know…,” she responded with true timidity. Then, she glanced over at Ramona, her brow knitting. “Get you man under control, girl. He’s creeping me out with those eyes of his.”

“You deserve it, Leda. Besides, Effy, makes a good point. It’ll be bad for us all, if we’re caught. So maybe… instead of fighting, we should – I don’t know, stop all the bullshit and put our heads together. This Muto-shit isn’t going away. Sooner or later, something is going to happen and it’s not going to be good. In fact, I think it’s going to be bad – real, real bad…” She trailed off.

A profound, but charged silence followed her prophetic words. Every one of us felt a tingling sensation at the back of our necks. We felt the unease run up and down our spines, because we knew then and there, together – as one - Ramona had spoken the absolute truth.

[He is compelled to speak with an unaltered mind.]

My little prophet of a girlfriend, I need to convey to you just how grateful I am that you’ve been by my side all these years. I am so grateful you’ve saved us all from utter disaster time after time… I love you, Babes!

Anyhow, I regress… sorry.

[He sinks into what has gone before.]

So we shared a long, intense look of mutual understanding. We felt, for the first time, the weight of what was happening. It was unsettling, awkward upon our shoulders. This was no longer about me and Katie or Ramona, or anything like what we thought this summer would be. No, this was different. It was not the same at all.

Our group was getting bigger and would continue to do so. If we were going to keep everyone safe and out of the clutches of the NIA, we were going to have to start coordinating like a team. I mean it, especially against the likes of their Shock-troops. They're armed to the teeth and used lethal force without question. We had to be better, now that our future’s had all changed.

“You won’t let them take me, will you, Eff?”

I twisted to look at Sandy, right into the pool of those light-brown orbs, uncaring of who was watching. “No, Sandy, I will not.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” I replied, my voice deeper than I had intended, which almost made me apologize. I chanced a quick glance at Ramona, who was looking back at me in resignation, her eyes welling.

She leaned forward, taking her legs from my lap and whispered with husky accusation, “I told you!”

I shrugged a wordless, “what?”

She breathed in my ear, so close her tongue flicked my earlobe more than once. “You don’t even know it, Steve, but they are both falling for you. I can fucken read it in their minds!”

“What -?” I started to say when little Martín came running into the room - full tilt.

“Effy, Effy, Effy!”

“What, big guy, what’s the deal?” I asked, trying to get him to calm down. He came right up to me, little chest heaving. He was breathing in mighty gulps because he’d run from the floor above us. It took him a few minutes to get in a word edgewise.

“I-I-I went to Flavia’s room to get, umm… to get her to fix my parachute guy, because… well, he got all tangled, and I saw Johan kissing a GIRL!!! Yuck and gross, dude!”

I laughed out loud. The swings in our conversations couldn’t have been more dramatic, even if I’d planned them. The twists and turns so unexpected, all I could do was act out of instinct. The whole shit was fucking crazy.

Martín stared at me wide-eyed for a few moments. He tried with all his six-year-old intellect to understand why I was laughing. To him, what he was describing was so intrinsically disgusting. I should be barfing out my guts, not laughing like a hyena.

I reached over and mussed his straight, jet-black hair. For some reason, my mom had always cut in a bowl-like shape, except for his bangs, which were usually an inch shorter than the rest of his mop. He was a beautiful little boy. I’m not saying that because he was my half-brother. No, he was adorable. He had big, dimpled cheeks and pale skin, dark eyes to match his very dark hair. He was not skinny or over weight, but proportioned somewhere right in the middle. He was solid, but not thick, and he was the keenest little guy I have ever known.

When I look back through the many, many, many years – and I am not exaggerating, I have lived for a long, long time. Every time I’d gone to the doctor’s office, to watch him administer a sonogram, so he could tell me the sex of one of my many unborn children. Every time it was male, in secret, I have wished to see a face like Martín’s upon his birth. I never have though. I’m still looking for him, even in crowds or on the public Starliners. The nostalgic, old-school part of me still looks for him.

I miss you, Marty. I wish I could see you one more time…

On that day, when he had come up to me horrified over Johan’s descent into ultimate betrayal, I asked what Flavia was doing.

For a second, he seemed mad, outraged that I hadn’t taken him serious. His eyes narrowed, because it didn’t seem to bother me that Johan was putting his lips upon a female, that he was putting his tongue in her mouth. Then, he got it. The light bulb went on and he understood. His entire demeanor changed. He became more like a mad scientist than the cherubic six-year-old boy he had been at the time.

“She’s mad, Effy… watching TV, but I can tell she’s mad.”

I could see it, clear in my mind. Johan and Jolene frolicked upon Flavia’s bed, making out like crazy, while she’s forced to watch TV. She would hear everything as they jostled and annoyed her with each smacking, slurping sound. I chuckled again.

“Why don’t you go ask her to fix our toy and maybe that’ll stop Johan from kissing that ugly… nasty… creepy girl!” I supplied a big smile for him and reached out to tickle him.

He evaded me with ease, more than used to my tactics. He bounded a few step away, made to leave. He stopped of a sudden, a grin on his face, so wide it appeared about to split his skull in twain. “I don’t think she’s creepy, Effy! SHE’S CUTE!!!”

Before I could so much as move, he was gone.

“Oh my god, Estefan, is every single one of the males in your family a fucking chick magnet! He’s adorable!” gushed Sandy.

It’s in the blood, baby doll.

“They are all like that, girl,” concluded my girlfriend. “These boys are dangerous.”

“Yup,” added Katie, pinching my side in secret, which tickled like a bitch.

That was when my cell twitched alongside my thigh and I moved to read the incoming text. The specificity of the notification decried what sort of message it was.

“Hey Dick, gonna call the house in like 10. No cells today, landline only!”

It was Jacob. His message meant he had news. In fact, news serious enough that he didn’t want anyone else to hear, but me.

“Hey, guys,” I announced over the general din of the girls still immersed in conversation about us Ernando boys.

One at a time they stopped.

“Jacob’s got some cheese on what happened to Tirza’s sister.”

That got their attention and the room plunged into the silence of the dead.