Day had started nice enough. She had gotten up little before eight. Brushed her teeth and put on her new dress. Her mother had combed and braided her hair. She had had cereal for breakfast. Sun had been shining outside. Perfect morning. First day of the last summer she would spend as a child. Next summer she would be already a big girl, enjoying her first, official summer holiday. Of course it would mean that she would spend next autumn, winter and fall away from home, in New York. In a school for other kids like her. Professor Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters. A month ago in a routine check-up doctor had taken a drop of her blood, just a routine test that was performed for every six year old, to determine whether they would be spending rest of their childhood with ordinary children. When results of that test had come her mother had cried. They had had long and meaningful conversations with her father, talking with hushed tones. Then one day her mother had taken her to have some ice cream, and when she had been licking happily her strawberry cone, she had used the M-word for the first time.
It had taken her a week to fully understand what it meant. One day she would gain power, almost like those brave heroes and heroines in comics. But before that she would only be a little girl, whose status as a mutant would be clear for everybody, tattooed to her left cheek with a series of blue numbers.
And it was starting to get her painfully clear what exactly other people around her were thinking about mutants.
She had gotten her mother’s permission to go outside to play after she had eaten. From earlier experience she knew that the park just few blocks away from her home would most likely be deserted at this time of day. She had skipped to there, already excited about the chance to get all swings, slides and carousels for herself. Usually other kids chased her off. Their parents didn’t want them to mingle with a mutant.
She had stopped dead on her tracks when park came to her view. It had been packed to the brim with other kids and their parents. Strange-looking creatures were towering over them, weaving through the crowd and kneeling down to chat with children. It had taken her a while to realize that they were cartoon characters. People masked as cartoon characters.
She had squashed her initial fear. There were so many children that she doubted if they would even notice her. She had walked in to their midst. Just another kid amongst other kids, wearing pretty blue dress and blue sandals, red ribbon in her hair.
Now she was very scared little girl in a torn, blue dress. She had lost her one sandal, and red ribbon lay somewhere on the ground, far below her.
As soon as people had noticed her they had turned against her. Adults turning their backs while their kids attacked her ruthlessly, chasing her until she had no other choice but to find a tall enough tree and climb to safety.
She had been sitting there for what felt like eternity, clutching the thick trunk with her both hands and hiding her burning, tear-stained face against the rough bark. She was tired. She was hungry. She wanted to go home. And she started to get a distinctive feeling that she wasn’t alone.
“Coast is clear, kid.” She dared a quick peek. A man stood there down below, leaning against the tree, smoking a cigar. Dark hair, wide shoulders. Worn, brown leatherjacket.
“Did you hear? I think you can come down now,” he said, turning to look at her. Dark eyes peered from under somewhat bushy eyebrows. Shadow of a beard covered his chin, and sides of his face were lined with funny-looking sideburns. For a moment he looked kind of scary, but then he smiled a little. Just a small smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes a bit.
“Come on. Climb down from there. I’ll take you home.”
“I can’t.” She was absolutely too tired and scared to even try to climb down. Man huffed and put away his cigar, extending his arms towards her.
“Hop down. I’ll catch you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Come on. You’re folks must be worried by now…”
Mention about her parents made her forget safety and warnings about trusting to strangers. She let go of the trunk and dived down from the branch, her eyes closed. For a moment she felt like she was flying. Fleeting thought of what would happen if the man couldn’t catch her flickered through her mind, but it was already late. Strong hands curled around her, and for a moment she was surrounded by the scent of cigars and the leather. Coarse hair on his cheek brushed against her face and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. He tightened his hold around her, then suddenly lowered her to the ground and let her go.
“Go home, kid. You don’t want to worry your parents.”
When she got back home, out of breath and still rattled from her ordeal, her parents were worried. Very worried. Worried enough to ground her for the rest of the week.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Finished for now.