The Misbegotten

[He is unsure if he’s angry or just annoyed by the trickery he’s endured this day. The ambush, the failure, the loss and the deception have all taken a heavy toll on him. He needs respite. He needs to forgo this present for now. He will bask in what has gone before. Maybe, it will help.]

They didn’t dawdle. In fact, it was no more than twenty minutes later when Tirza, Sandy and Leda made their way back to “my” side of the Loft. They’d decided who was sleeping where. The TV went off and we arranged ourselves about my queen-sized bed.

Ramona and Katie flanked me, sitting to my left and right respectively. Leda and Sandy perched next to my cousin. Flavia and Tirza plopped on Ramona’s right. Johan and Jolene were opposite me, closing the circle we’d formed about the bed.

“So what’s the big secret, Eff?” asked Sandy, play-exasperation in her tone. Her sparkling eyes told a different story.

She could make the Grinch shit lollipops, she was so damned cheerful!

“Well, when you guys were gone, some of us were mulling over these Mutations,” I answered, speaking to the group at large. “Since it appears some of us are getting stronger, we were thinking we should try and use them. Maybe we could try to get a degree of control over them… whatever they may be.”

“Is that a good idea?” asked Tirza, worry in the corner of her orbs.

I knew she was afraid of me losing control and making her do something she didn’t want to do.

“I’m not talking about me, Tirza. I know how to use this thing that’s inside of me. I have for a couple of days already. The only problem I have controlling it is when I get distracted. The power - or whatever you wanna call it – seems to get away from me. And it’s obvious; it can affect a large number of people.” I tried to reassure her, but the look on her face didn’t change. “I think the rest of you should try,” I went on, trying a different tactic, “except you Sandy.”

She frowned.

“From what Ramona told me, is your power consists of some sort of nullifying quality.”

Her frown deepened.

“In other words, our Mutations don’t affect you when you don’t want them to. The only thing we could think you could try to do at this point is project it onto others. You should try using it at all times. Maybe, keep it on some sort of auto-pilot or something.”

“I can do that?” she asked flummoxed.

“Yes -,” I began.

“Well, if you want to know,” cut in my girlfriend, “you’re doing it right now.

“I am?” asked Sandy.

Ramona nodded. “Almost from the moment he mentioned an auto-pilot, you started doing just that.” She turned to grin at me. “That was pretty fast.”

“That was. Can you ‘see’ anything when you look at her?” I inquired.

She shook her head. “Not a thing.”

I smiled at Sandy. “You see, she can’t tell what’s inside you, because you’re just about a master at your ability already,” I explained. “Besides, you and I have other things to discuss.”

She perked up.

Tirza sighed.

I grinned. “We need to talk about escape routes, my dear,” I mouthed around leer. I knew what she and ex-girlfriend had been thinking. “Since you are the only one with a car, you’re gonna have to help me figure out the fastest way to my Uncle Roberto’s safe house. Once we’ve done that, we gotta come up with at least three or four alternate routes. If we're denied the quickest way, then we need some back-up plans.”

She pretended to deflate, but became more serious as she realized the import of what I said.

“What about me? Do you think I have to practice?” It was Leda, peering at me through her eyebrows, icy, direct.

“I think you have been doing just that for quite some time now, girl. You likely knew what to do within minutes of getting sick the other day,” I countered. I was well aware she was challenging me, daring me to succumb to her mental prowess once again.

She knew she had rendered me helpless within seconds earlier in the day. She knew she could’ve done whatever the hell she wanted with me. She could’ve made me fuck her silly, and I would’ve liked it. She knew this, and so did I. The issue was simple, the little bitch wanted me. But, she wanted me to want her just as much. She would fight her thoughts and feelings, tooth and nail, until I reciprocated.

Maybe I would, if Leda was as fiery in bed as she was in everyday life, then she’d fuck me raw! Hmmm, nice thought.

Leda didn’t reply. She didn’t make a sound. She turned away and that alone was confirmation enough. She’d been practicing alright!

“What is it she can do exactly?” asked my brother, pointing his chin in Leda’s direction.

I glanced over at Ramona.

“She can control thought,” retorted my girlfriend, “its’ flow, its’ depth – she can manipulate it all. She can cut you off from your own consciousness and turn you into a vessel of reaction. She did this with Estefan earlier today.”

I saw the mien of my brother and step-sister dim. They hadn’t known about the unexpected tryst between me and Leda, but Ramona went on. Their discomfiture overlooked.

“She can do more though, right, Leda?”

Leda smiled, fake-cute, her eyes were as dull as rod-iron steel. She had never liked revealing things about herself when she wasn’t ready to share. She hated it with a passion. She glowered at my girlfriend, who withstood the onslaught of her gaze unflinching.

It took a lot to unnerve Ramona Cervantes. And a grammar school friend she’d spent years around just wasn’t up to the task.

Leda caved. “Well shit, if you have to know, I think I can cause pain, but I’m not sure yet!” she said, but a tiny bit too loud.

You’re not being all that honest, are you, Leda? You know for certain you can cause pain.

“Uh huh,” was all the noise Ramona made.

“Do you think you could tell us more about what we can do?” Flavia was either ignoring the interplay between the others girls or didn’t care. “I mean, you said we’re all getting stronger, so I am assuming you can tell us about our Mutations in greater detail now, right?”

Ramona nodded in affirmation.

“Ok, tell me about mine.” My step-sister could be bossy when she wanted something to go her way.

Ramona squinted at her, and, for a moment, I thought my step-sister would annoy her, but I was wrong. “You are a little like Sandy, but not a complete bottomless pit of nothingness like she is. You are hard to read. Only on occasion, when the mask falls away, I see strength – a tower of it to be exact.”

“But what does it mean?” wondered my step-sister.

“I think you will be real strong before too long,” was the answer.

“You think Flavia will be strong? How strong do you mean exactly, like a body builder or a UFC fighter?” It was Johan’s turn to question, which surprised me. He usually preferred to stay quiet and observe.

“Stronger.” Ramona reached across the bed and beckoned for Flavia’s hand. “Let me see.”

Flavia complied.

Ramona shivered at her touch. Five seconds passed, then ten. Another brief shudder followed.

Then, as if transfixed: “You will have strength enough to bend bars, to life cars, maybe even stop a bus in mid-motion.” My girlfriend let her go.

Stunned silence ensued.

I stared at my step-sister as hard as I could, trying to divine what Ramona had seen, but couldn’t. Flavia had never been one to exude physicality, and, I mean, in any way. She wasn’t built that way. She abhorred working in the yard when yard-work was the chore of the day. She hated dirt and got grossed out by the tiniest prospect of getting sweaty. How in the frick was she going to become some She-Ra¹, Queen of the Motherfucken Mutants? It didn’t make any sense to me. I couldn’t see it. It was all wrong.

“What about me?” asked Jolene, her words startling every one of us.

“Give me your hand,” said Ramona, it was a firm request.

It took half the time as it had with Flavia when once again my girlfriend’s face went slack. Like before, her voice became eerie, disjointed. “A lot like Leda, but in a different way, she controls thought. You can create it. You can make reality of the untrue. You can create memory so vivid, so real. The recipient of such a manufactured thought would know it as one of his own and be certain of it. He could never question its’ validity, because to him it would seem irrevocably his past.”

“So…,” began Jolene in the subdued manner - her hallmark, “I can insert memory into people’s minds?”

My girlfriend released her hand and nodded.

“And me, Ramona, what Mutant power do I have?” asked my cousin, her brow creased in thought. “Last time you said something about fire and flames, but I took that to mean something about willpower. Was I incorrect to think that was what you meant?”

“There’s only one way to find out…,” retorted my girlfriend, reaching toward Katie with both hands.

Katie scooted forth to do what Ramona had asked.

It took no more than two seconds.

“Fire - all I see is fire, everywhere, within you.”

“Does that mean I control fire?”

It was a simple deduction, but it was one I hadn’t considered and it stunned me.

Fire, really? Like that little girl in that ancient Stephen King movie², for real?

If it were true, then Katie could be extremely dangerous. I saw my cousin change before me in my minds’ eye. Katie had the foul mouth and the uncouth disposition, but she had never been dangerous. The thought of someone like her, with a Mutant power of such magnitude, was more than a little scary. It was fucking frightening.

Crap on a twig, what if she got mad at someone and blasted them into a million pieces?!? How in hell could we stop her from doing it?

When I glanced back at my girlfriend she was nodding in assent. So, there it was, Katie was a Wielder of Fire. What we didn't know was whether it was righteous or demonic.

“What about me?” asked Johan into the quiet as he moved forward, his hand already outstretched before him.

Ramona took ahold of his wrist and within five seconds a smile spread across her face. She knew already. She was getting better at this the more she practiced.

I could tell.

We all could.

“You are a mental Mutant, Jo.” It was nickname only his closest acquaintances used.

He tilted his head to the side.

“Soon, not only will you be able to touch things with your mind. You will be able to read what occurs within others.”

She speaks so eloquent when her power takes over, I remember thinking as I watched them.

Johan’s gaze fell to the bedspread, his breathing evened out as his shoulders sagged at his sides. “Telekinesis and Telepathy, huh?” he asked the bed, and then looked over at Jolene. “Well, at least I will know when you tell the truth.” With an abruptness that made our brows rise; he laughed and edged his way back toward his girl. “You won’t be able to fake anything with me around.” His voice had dropped an octave or two.

Jolene seemed to wilt with a giggle and fell into his arms, a quick peck on the lips passing between them.

The dual connotations of what he’d said weren’t lost on any of us. We older kids exchanged knowing glances, raising our eyebrows in rapid succession.

Katie mouthed a silent “Wow” in my direction, which made me smirk.

Only Flavia frowned with worry. For some reason, she was still unsettled by the possibility of her best friend losing her virginity at the hand (or should I say, dick) of her step-brother. This was after I had told her of my conversation with Johan. I guess it was a deep-seeded sort of anxiety teens that age have difficulty dislodging.

I “Oh-well-’ed” the situation, because it wasn’t pressing, filing it away in my head and turned toward Sandy. “So, girl you wanna go and figure out how we are going to get to my uncles’ safehouse from here? We’ll let them try to learn more about their Mutations. After all, they need the practice. You and I don’t”

She smiled, eager now. “Sure!” Somewhat quick, she stood and stepped back from the group.

“Don’t bed him while we’re all still awake, Sandra. I’m not sure some of us here are up to seeing such a sight.” Leda said it through the side of her mouth, a pregnant wisecrack.

Tirza clicked her tongue as my step-sister unleashed her grimace upon me.

Johan sneered, derisive, but it was gone almost the moment it touched his face.

Sandy just smiled, unwilling to let the other teen get under her skin. “Oh, I’ll make sure to wait until only you’re awake, then I’ll jump his bones. That way only you will hear all the squishy sounds right next to your ear!”

There was an eye-blink of affronted silence, then a cacophony of laughter. It was so enthusiastic and persistent even Leda had to grin sheepishly at her friends’ witty riposte. It had been a good one.

Ramona had wiped tears from her eyes for almost five minutes.

I joined Sandy upon Katie’s bed not long after. We were both propped upon our elbows, our bodies stretched out behind us. The crowns of our heads were almost touching as we stared down at our cellphones. Our fingers swiped across the near unbreakable glass of the device faces every now and again.

“Ok, it installed,” she had been saying, telling me she had imputed latest version of Google Maps Mobile into her smart phone.

“Good, now open it and punch in the following: 5302 Monterey Road, Los Angeles, CA 90042.” I did the same as she. “Hit the view icon and select ‘satellite’.”

I watched her long fingers glide over the smartphone as she did as I asked. My eyes lingered on her fingernails. She had them painted red with tiny glittering stars inlaid within the enamel. They were silver and shiny.

Of the girls, I had always liked Sandy’s hands the most. They were large, but somehow delicate at the same time. Maybe long-boned was the best way to describe them. They weren’t thick or heavy in appearance, though one would’ve expected exactly that since they were almost as big as mine.

For as long as I’ve known Sandy she had worn her nails shorter than most girls. The edge of her nails never extended more than an eighth of an inch from the tip of her fingers. It was many years after the summer of 2018 when I had finally got around to asking why she wore them that way. I had mentioned that I thought all women liked their nails long.

She’d been scratching the lower portions of my back, letting the edges of those same nails trace down toward the bugle of my ass-cheeks. She explained: “I don’t like breaking my nails and longer nails tend to break, so I keep them shorter. That way, I’m not walking around with a mismatched set.”

I remember, I had chuckled and turned to admire her.

She had thanked me with a kiss – soft, tender, lingering.

Simple explanation, but not one I knew way back when I was only seventeen and on the cusp living life as a Mutant. Yet, I think that was the day the question first formed in my head. It had to be it, one night in ’18 when I gazed at her hands as she tapped in the address to my uncles’ safehouse.

It’s funny what memories stick with you and what ones don’t… fingers, hands and nails.

“Ok, it’s finished uploading,” she said still looking at her phone.

“Do you know where it is?” I asked as we put our cells down side by side, but flipped in opposite directions.

“Monterey Road,” she muttered in thought. “Is that the street that divides into three separate roads? You know the one where a pair of weird looking walls separates the middle street from the others? Aren’t there light fixtures from like the 1930’s still bolted into the walls as well?”

“That's the one,” I confirmed. “Do you know how to get there from here?”

She bobbed her head in affirmation.

“How many ways do you think you could come up with to get us there should the NIA block the fastest route?” I wanted to make sure she knew what she was talking about.

Her eyes came up to mine – light brown, trimmed in darker eye liner. From above, the varying shades of her hair - shadow, mahogany and bronze, copper, even chestnut - framed them.

She caught me in her gaze.

She looked away. “There are a shitload of ways to get there, Effy. You can come from Highland Park, which is the fastest. Or you can swing east through Mt. Washington and then hook around through Happy Valley. You take the freeway and cut way south and come up from El Sereno. Or you can take the other northern hook and come down from South Pasadena.” Her fingers were tracing across the digital map almost too fast for me to follow.

The girl knew her shit alright.

“Wow, Eff, if the shit came down on us hard, we could even break into the Regional Park. We could hop the fence on Griffin Avenue and hoof it through the hills all the way to Monterey Road.”

“Wait, what? We could do that for real?”

The two streets seemed miles apart, so I peered at my own map and checked the legend. Gauging the distance in both feet and meters, it astounded me to see they were only separated by 2,100 feet at the shortest. And maybe half again at the furthest! It was amazing. Though the terrain looked rugged from the Montecito Heights side, the trek itself wasn’t all that far. Even if we had to double back upon ourselves a few times, the whole journey wouldn’t be more than a mile.

To me, it felt like an excellent back-up plan, if ever there was one. Who would’ve thought a little hike through Ernest E. Debs Regional Park might be the trump-card in our back pockets.

“Damn, Sandy, I never knew those two parts of town were that close!” I exclaimed. I was too dumbfounded to breathe right.

“Me neither,” was all she had time to say when a slew of yowls and yelps came from the other side of the room.

Sandy and I spun into sitting positions, uncertain what to expect. I saw my cousin scamper from my bed to the bathroom, a slice of printer paper held before her. It was on fire, burning an angry yellow.

Looks like Katie’s Mutation was working just fine.

Now, all we had to do was make certain she didn’t burn down the god damned house in the process.

{ ¹She-Ra: a fictional character and the protagonist of the Filmation cartoon and series of toys produced by Mattel called She-Ra: Princess of Power. }

{ ²“Stephen King movie”: a veiled reference to the movie Firestarter, a 1984 science fictionthriller film based on the novel of the same name by Stephen King. }