And, lo, I finally, finally had enough self-confidence to just relax. Good thing, too, because Logan needed more R&R than anyone with his healing ability should have any thoughts of. Further proof that his time in Vietnam had been, to borrow a phrase, fucked up beyond all recognition.
And not only had the past two years been FUBAR, Logan was suffering from an avalanche of disjointed, bloody-minded memories of his soldiering past. The resulting nightmares, despite my healing and super strength, made him wary of turning me into so much shredded material, so he took up residence on the pull-out couch. Over the next week, we fell into a routine where I would cuddle up with him on the couch until I inevitably feel asleep. Most of the them, I woke up tucked into my own bed, but a couple times he let me stay with him all night.
During the day, Scott and I worked while Logan did whatever Logan did. There was a glib levity about him in the daytime, mostly, I thought, for Scott’s sake. Around Scott, he was the same old hostile, sardonic Logan with his one-track mind and unveiled insults. Watching Logan and Scott interact was like an impromptu psych lesson on male bonding techniques. It was enlightening and entertaining at the same time. Actually, the way all three of us interacted with one another was more than slightly dysfunctional. But it worked for me.
I came home one evening with some takeout and found the guys playing cards. Billy Idol was on as background music. “Kicking it eighties-style again, there, Scott?” I observed, setting down the Chevy’s Tex-Mex bags and my purse on the bar, which separated the kitchen from the living room.
Skipping the pleasantries, Scott went directly for the food. “Did you remember my hot sauce?”
“Yes, I remembered your hot sauce.” I shook my head despairingly at Logan, who was still sitting at the table. “I forget one time – ”
“Twice,” Scott interrupted, scraping his dinner out of one of the Styrofoam boxes and onto a plate.
“It was not twice. It was only once.”
“It was twice.”
“Saying it louder isn’t going to make it any more right.”
“Taking that tone won’t make it any more wrong.”
“When’d you two get married?” Logan murmured, his eyes on the poker chips he was stacking.
Scott and I immediately stopped arguing. We laughed a little, as an afterthought.
“Sorry about that,” I replied. “We have a tendency to bicker, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Jealous?” Scott asked, sending him a triumphant smirk.
Purposely turning around so I couldn’t see Logan’s reaction, I slipped off my pumps and tossed them over by the door. “Okay boys, no more fighting. It’s been a long day. The big fundraiser dinner tomorrow is hell on everybody’s nerves.”
“What happened to you being a glorified secretary?” Logan asked, getting up.
Padding around into the kitchen, I yawningly complained, “Only when I’m not a glorified bulletproof vest.”
“I hate it when you sell your position so short,” Scott said, clearing a space for his dinner on our round kitchen table. “And if you don’t want to do the menial tasks then don’t. I’ve always said you should integrate yourself in more with the security staff.”
“I’m not packing the right kind of ‘heat’ to merit an invitation to that club,” I said, rolling my eyes. I took down two plates from the cupboards and sat them next to the remaining Styrofoam boxes. “Besides, it’s what McKenna wants. He’s the president. I can’t say no to the president.”
“Sure you can,” Logan disagreed, pulling out silverware from the drawer closest to the sink. “‘Mr. President,’ you say, ‘With all due respect, fuck off.’ That simple”
Amused, I shook my head. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll say. And then get fired and possibly jailed.”
“Would getting fired be a bad thing?” Logan held out a spoon.
Taking it, I scooped out his burritos onto one of the plates and my chicken fajitas on another. “Considering I effectively dropped out of college, I’m pretty sure this the best job I’m ever going to get. Outside of the X-Men.” I took our plates to the table. Logan got us a beer and a Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator, and then sat down beside me.
“Speaking of jobs and the X-Men,” Scott said between mouthfuls, “I spoke with Charles today. He’s making a lot of changes.”
“For the dinner? I hope it’s additional manpower. Er, peoplepower. Mutantpower? Whatever. Just, more is better, as far as security is concerned. Pretty much all the mutant sympathizers in politics are going to be there. That’s almost too good a target to pass up.”
“Charles knows that, believe me,” Scott replied. “All the X-Men – even the juniors and the reserves – will be there for the dinner. But, after that, the Professor’s going to Tokyo to exchange favors with Tokuzawa. Tokuzawa’s going to get his best guys working with Karma and Dragon on the files from the base we haven’t been able to decode yet, in exchange for the Professor getting Magneto and all his influence out of Japan. The Professor’s leaving Storm in charge of running the school, and me in charge of recruitment, for the school and the X-Men. So, I’m going back to Westchester, and Keller’s going to take over my lobbying. He’s been wanting to set up some Washington connections before he graduates, so this’ll be the perfect opportunity for him.”
“Oh, Scott, no. I can’t live with Keller. I’d kill him.”
“Well, you have a choice. You can either stay here with Keller, or you can let Colossus take over guarding the President and become a recruitment officer.”
“Recruitment officer?”
“I’m delegating my job. I find them, and then you and Logan go get them.”
“Logan.”
“That’s right. We have to have something for him to do, besides sitting around all day watching TV and eating all our food.”
Logan, in the middle of a long swig of beer, flipped Scott off.
“So, what, we’d live back at the school?”
“I guess so,” Scott shrugged.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied, poking a piece of chicken with my fork. Doubtless, I was going to take the recruitment officer job, because I wasn’t about to let Logan go anywhere without me. I just wished we could stay here. This was my territory.
The past week or so had been great. While I was gone, Logan had nothing to do but wait for me to return. I was a little afraid of slipping back – of Logan resuming his role as the big man, and me being, at best, his sidekick.
I knew he had an opinion on the matter, but he didn’t betray one.
After we ate, the three of us played a few hands of poker – Logan dominated – and then a few rounds of my favorite card game, Spite and Malice. As usual, Scott called it a night at precisely eleven o’clock and we turned on the news. Even though it made my brain hurt, we tended to watch a lot of FOX.
That night’s debate was about the registered mutant alert system being adopted in a lot of red states, particularly back home in Mississippi. As it stood, if there was a registered mutant in the vicinity – tracked through credit cards or whatever – you could elect to get a text message and, as the whiney, alarmist host Susan Somerholden said, “Make sure you’re clued into the potential danger at all times.” The guest, a mutant right’s activist named Paul Vincent – one of the Professor’s contacts, according to Scott – argued, “Registered sex offenders have more right to privacy.”
Scarily enough, Governor Sherman, who just had to be from Mississippi, wanted to up the ante by supporting a law that would require all mutants in the state to have a transmitting chip placed in their hands so that their activities can be monitored.
“Good, honest mutants – and I’ll admit, they are out there – have nothing to fear from this bill,” Susan lipped, liked she’d never been introduced to Orwellian philosophy.
Paul shook his head emphatically. “Good, honest mutants have a lot of fear already, with only the MRA to contend with. In a lot of places, in blood tests before getting marriage licenses, they check for the mutant gene the way they do for AIDS. And like AIDS, there’s talk of a law that requires mutants to tell inform their partners about their ‘Mutation-Positive’ status.”
“What’s wrong with honesty, Paul? Mutant children are a lot of responsibility. There have been so many reports – ”
“Yes, let’s talk about mutant children. Let’s talk about the fact that they’re being forced to out themselves in oftentimes hostile environments. In some states they have to bring their parents along to co-sign their registration. The MRA has been directly linked to a spiked increase in adolescent and juvenile runaways. Need I remind you that the terrorist attack in L.A. was perpetuated by runaways?”
“But, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you have been quoted as agreeing with the MRA in many ways.”
“The healthcare benefits, the support structures – Yes. Good things have come from the MRA. But. The true test of this Nation’s integrity is how it will be used.”
“You’re in favor of national control rather than local control.”
“Local control didn’t work during Jim Crow. The Supreme Court and Congressional interference was deemed necessary.”
“What if Democrats don’t keep the White House this election? Will you still be in favor of a National policy them?”
“If Governor Sherman is elected, I believe it will be the end of personal freedoms as we know them, for mutant and human alike.”
“That’s an awfully bold statement.”
“It is, Susan. It is. Fortunately, I really don’t foresee the election going that way. Yes, Jim Crow laws are blatant where they were blatant before, but I see that as an opportunity for reform. The Southern half of the United States really needs to take a good, hard look at themselves and ask, ‘What am I teaching my children here? Am I teaching them compassion? Or am I only teaching fear and hatred?’”
“They’re teaching self-preservation. Mutants aren’t another race – The have real supernatural powers that they can and do use against us. The polls have shown that the average American is a conservative at heart, especially when it comes to making sure their families are safe. For a lot of people, Governor Sherman represents that safety. You can’t deny the facts.”
“Susan – Susan, I’m not denying the facts. I’ll agree with you, average Americans are conservatives at heart because conservatism is safety. But you have to factor in their compassion. Compassion, Susan. America is the land of personal freedom. I don’t think any true American will sit idly by and allow such a travesty – ”
“People feel threatened – ”
“People felt that way a decade ago, when marriage between homosexuals was perceived as a threat to the family values they held so dear. They went to their rallies and supported gay marriage bans, but when extremists took it too far, when they stepped over the line and started using the law as a means of persecution, the average American said no. They put their foot down, did a complete one-eighty. That’s why, today, gay marriage is legal in all fifty states, and why I believe that average American is going to vote Democrat.”
I took the remote control from Scott and clicked the power. That was the America I wanted to live in and that was the America I believed in. I didn’t need to hear any more.